"Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but I have a suggestion." Sara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, watching Grissom shave himself in his shaving mirror.

His eyes flitted from his reflection to her lanky figure. Oh, how he loved her legs. "Really? Hmm, I don't know...," he teased.

"You know you're doing all this stuff for me?" She saw him nod. "We-ell, one thing I'd like you to do for me is open up emotionally."

He grinned slightly, razor poised in his hand. "Oh?"

She found it hard to look at him. "Yeah. I thought that maybe tonight, or another night if you've already got something planned for tonight, that we could just sit in with pizza and beer and talk. 'Cause I have some things I'd like to ask you."

"If that's something you wanna do, then that's fine. If you wanna do that tonight, that's also okay with me." His concentration appeared to be focused on removing stray hairs from his beard.

For a moment, Sara couldn't believe it - Gil Grissom, the enigmatic Gil Grissom, was actually telling her that he would be perfectly willing to open up to her. "Uh, okay. I wasn't quite expecting that," she confessed. "I didn't think you'd bow so easily."

He finished tidying his facial hair, and washed the extraneous bits of white foam from his face. He patted his cheeks dry with a towel, and came to stand next to Sara. "There's got to be some parity, here," he informed her. "I can't keep expecting you to make sacrifices. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to give way, and I'd rather it would be sooner." He turned to face her, and put his arms around her waist, holding her close to him.

She could smell the soap he'd used to shave, and for some reason, it comforted her greatly. "This is why I've waited so long," she murmured, slightly wistful. Grissom cocked an eyebrow and she expounded. "I always thought you had a romantic streak in you, but that you just needed a chance to display it." She ran her fingers over his chest.

He grinned yet again. "Me? Romantic?"

"Yeah. Let's face it, any scientist that recites Shakespeare and eats a book of quotations for breakfast each day isn't completely cold. By all means, you should just be a ... scientist. But you have this artistic streak, and I love it. You're very ... artful."

He bent his head towards her and kissed her lightly. "I'm glad you like it. So many women seem to find my assorted quirks infuriating. Body farms, chocolate crickets, entomology text books, poetry - plus, my work gets in the way a lot. They don't appreciate that," he added, his smile holding a hint of sadness.

"I understand," Sara reassured him, stroking his cheek. She pulled away, and finished buttoning her shirt.

Gil pouted. "You know, you'd look so much better without the shirt," he sighed.

Sara shot him a grin. "Where do you wanna meet tonight?"

His mouth contorted. "Give me an hour after shift, I'll need to get showered and changed. I'll have the pizza ordered for when you come over, but I haven't got any beer in, so would you mind picking up a six-pack, and I'll give you the money when you get there."

"Sure, sounds good." Secretly, she was glad he wanted her at his - given the nature of the discussion they would be having, she didn't want him to just ball up and run away - he wouldn't be able to do that in his own

home.

"Is Mediterranean vegetable okay for you?"

"A veggie pizza?"

"Are you no longer vegetarian?"

Sara shook her head quickly. "No, I am, but you? Will it be enough for a ravenous meat-eater such as yourself?" He nodded. "I just never figured you'd do that for me," she admitted. "I'd have thought you'd at least order another pizza, with meat maybe."

He pulled her to him again and caressed her cheek. "Well, I'm not," he told her. "I'm making an effort to change, honey."

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. "I never wanted you to change," she whispered. "I just want you to ...".

"Change?" He smiled sympathetically. "I know there's aspects of my personality that piss you off, and obviously there must be an issue with me not talking enough, otherwise you wouldn't have requested an opportunity to ask me questions." He took a breath, and Sara opened her eyes in time to see his tongue slide out and lick his lips. "There's a great many things about myself, about my personality ...".

"Honey, save it for tonight." She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "I'm gonna head off for work, okay? So I'll see you about an hour after shift." She kissed him one last time, and headed off out of his townhouse.

The knock on his door came just as he was warming the pizza in the oven. He quickly ran a towel through his hair, which hadn't dried fully from his shower, and sauntered over to the door, opening it.

Oh, God. Sara's heart leapt into her mouth. He's wearing jeans again, and he's hair's not fully dry. Oh dear God, I might just jump you right here and now. She smiled brightly and handed him the six-pack he asked her to get. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he smiled, accepting the beer. "How much do I owe you?" He ushered her in and took her coat from her, hanging it up.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand.

"I thought we might sit at the table and eat, more comfortable, less awkward than the couch," he said, walking back into the kitchen and taking the pizza from the oven. "Take a seat," he called out to her. He brought out two plates, then went back and retrieved the pizza and beer. He doled out a slice for her, and snapped a can from the plastic wrapping, pouring it into a glass for her.

"Wow, I'm not used to having people pouring my beers for me," she joked, silently thanking him with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I have a lot to make up for," he murmured quietly. "So, what do you wanna ask me?" He picked up his pizza sice and bit into it, savouring the courgette and pepper.

"I was always interested in your childhood," she told him, taking a sip of her beer to avoid looking at him.

He swallowed, and followed suit with his drink. "It was ... quiet. My parents were divorced when I was eight, and he died a year later. My mom had started going deaf just before they got divorced - I think it was one of the reasons he left. So, with no-one else left to look after her, I kind of assumed that role."

Instead of trying to appease him with, she simply nodded. "Yeah, it kinda sucks, doesn't it."

He looked up. "What?"

"Having to assume a position of responsibility when you're young, simply 'cause the adults around you are too immature to do anything for themselves." She smiled gently, and took another bite from her pizza.

"Yeah. That's why I'm not good with people. I had to grow up real quick, so I didn't have much of a chance to develop relationships with other people. As a result, I also found it hard to open up to people, because I was afraid that the moment I became vulnerable, they'd abandon me. Like my father did."

His words inspired a mass of images collecting in her mind. Gil, as a curly-haired, blue-eyed, skinny little boy, looking after his mother, learning sign language, and crying himself to sleep at night because he had no-one to talk to or confide in. She reached over and touched his hand. "I know what it's like," she comforted him.

He looked up at her gratefully and stroked her thumb. "You had a hard time?" he asked, rather stupidly.

"Yeah. More than you know," she added.

"What else happened to you? If you wanna go into it," he added, not wanting to push her.

She took a deep breath, comforted deeply by his hand caressing hers. "Normal stuff. It was textbook domestic abuse, I guess. He drank, he had a temper, he took it out on the people around him."

"Including you?" He didn't dare to think of the answer he would get.

She looked up at him briefly, then stared back down at her half-eaten pizza, which tasted remarkably nice. "Yeah," she said in a small voice.

"How?" It came out as a croak.

"Guess."

He frowned. "I'm not much up for playing games, honey. How?" he insisted.

"All the ways in which abuse can be carried out," she said, throat tight. "I don't wanna ...".

"It's okay. Um, next question," he blurted, squeezing her hand and then letting go and finished his slice of pizza.

"What do you like most about yourself?"

Grissom smiled. "I don't know. What do you like most about me?"

"Everything. Even your infuriating little things that irritate me - it's all a part of what makes you you."

Sara finshed her beer, struggling for a question that she didn't want to ask.

He raised his eyebrows. "You can ask."

"Seeing as you know what I wanna ask, answer the question without me asking it."

"There's a few things you want to ask me. But here goes," he added, upon seeing her expression. "Like I said, I'm closed off and impersonal because I don't want to get hurt. I'm afraid that if I let people in, they'll abandon me."

"Why do you find it so easy to speak to me now?" Sara aksed, reaching for another pizza slice at the same time as Grissom. Their hands touched, and he smiled coyly, withdrawing so she could take a slice before him.

"I made a conscious decision that I would open up to you. You've been through so much, and you've been open with me, more open than I would have ever asked you to be, considering that you were obviously going through a shit time. And you've waited for me. You've stayed here when you could have left, and you've put up with me being a bastard, so that kinda convinced me that you're not the sort of person who's gonna walk out on me. That, and the fact that you've been through so much yourself. I think you'd find it hard to walk out, considering what you had to experience as a kid." By this time, he had stocked up on another slice and poured himself another beer. "You want another one?"

She shook her head slowly, quite overwhelmed by what he had said. "Uh, no thanks, I gotta drive."

Gil's face fell. "Oh, I thought you might want to stay."

In contrast, her face brightened considerably. "If that's okay with you, I wouldn't wanna impose myself on you," she said, smiling.

He smiled back, casting his eyes down shyly. "Having you here is never an imposition," he stated.

"Well, I think I have all the answers I need."

"Isn't there anything else you'd like to know?"

"Like what? After some time, I heard you'd had ear surgery, and I figured I'd mybe come on a bit strong, so there's not much else to say."

"You don't wanna know what really happened with Lady Heather? Or how I felt about you seeing Hank?" He avoided her eyes when he spoke.

Sara swallowed, with some difficulty. "Not really, no." She changed her mind. "Actually, yes."

"I know a lot of people think I slept with her. And I did. It's not something I'm particularly proud, and a lot of how I reacted was because I couldn't cope with how jealous I felt at seeing you date Hank. I realised pretty soon after sleeping with her, that I made a mistake. So that's why I gave you that solo at the high school. I was angry, and jealous, and felt impotent."

"What was she like?" Sara asked in a small voice.

Grissom frowned and rested his chin on steepled fingers. "She was ... good. But it was clinical. And she was too dominant for my liking. I ... I didn't feel any chemistry between us. I did it because I was lonely and angry." He reached out for her hand again. "I was impotent, emotionally-speaking. But I don't ever want you to think that I stopped thinking about you, or that I stopped caring or fantasising about you." His cheeks turned deep red as his words flowed.

Sara gave an interested smile. "Really."

"Uh huh. That surprise you?"

"I don't know," she conceded. "I fantasised about us, too," she admitted. "And I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. I think you're a person who'd easily get carried away with the romance, the idea of a sexual encounter. But in real-life, you probably have some ideas that wouldn't sit too happily with female partners."

Oh, she had him down. She had his number. "What makes you say that?"

"You're an idealist, a romantic, remember?"

"So, your fantasies. What did you do?"

She smiled coyly. "Whatever you wanted me to do. I had a couple of tricks up my sleeve, but I mostly thought of what you'd do to me."

He blushed yet again. "Well, I'm sure you'll be privy to what I can do in three or four days' time," he smirked. He checked the pizza box and saw they had somehow managed to finish the whole pizza, although he had been oblivious to eating more than two slices. "Um, you wanna go watch tv for a bit?"

Sara shook her head, smiling sleepily and looking drowsy. "I'm kinda tired," she yawned.

He leaned over and kissed her - this kiss was quite unlike the others they had shared - it was full of promise and desire. "You go get ready, I'll clean up in here," he said, his breath, holding hints of tomato and garlic, passing across her lips.

"Gil?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for being open, for being forthcoming and willing to share these things with me. It ...".

"It means a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Just go and get ready, honey, I'll be with you in a few minutes."