"You know, we've got two days left," Grissom commented absently as they lay in bed. Sara had been waiting up for him with breakfast when he got in from work, and he was looking forward to returning the gesture tomorrow morning, on her day at work, when he would be off. They had both eaten, and then trudged sleepily to bed, holding each other for comfort.

Sara stirred against his side. "And then it's the big day?" she questioned rhetorically.

"Nervous at all?" he asked, doing his best to sound nonchalant. He felt her smile against him.

"A bit. You?" She moved further against him, and nudged him when he didn't reply.

"Uh ... yeah." It was hard for him to admit that a sexual encounter, making love to Sara, was an intimidating thing to him. He was so concerned about being able to perform for her, to be able to satisfy her, that he was in danger of scaring himself into impotency. To take his mind off their impending union, he thought hard. "May I ask you a question?"

There was something in his voice that unsettled her. "You just did, but go ahead."

He turned to face her, so that he was leaning on his side, propping his head up in his hand. His right hand draped over her left hip, and although it was dark, he could feel her eyes on him. "What was your time in the system like?" His voice was shaky and uncertain, and he doubted the sagacity of his asking her.

"You mean when I was in foster care?" That took the wind out of her a bit. She hadn't been expecting that. Of course, she knew that he would eventually want to know the full, sordid details of her past, but she had tried to put her stay in foster care behind her.

"Yeah," he croaked. "Um, if you don't wanna talk about it, I understand," he added quickly, hoping that she didn't feel as though he was pushing her too hard.

"No, it's okay," she answered slowly. "I'd like you to know." She took a deep breath, and the comforting hand that squeezed her hip gave her the strength to go on. "I was handled by social workers immediately after my father died," she said. "I was taken to a temporary foster home for a week, and then I was transferred to another home until the trial. After my mom was charged, my grandparents took me to live with them. Six years later, I went off to college, and I haven't been home home since. I know I worked in San Francisco, but I never once went back to where I lived. I didn't even go and see my grandparents."

"Maternal or paternal?"

"Paternal. I think they resented the side they saw in me that was my mother." She smiled sadly, although he he probably wouldn't be able to see her. She heaved a sigh and continued. "They were never horrible to me, but I can tell that they were kind of begrudged that I was there, they didn't really want me there, and they never complained to anyone that I never got in touch with them."

"What about your brother?"

"He was gone. He ran away a few months before my father died, and I haven't seen him since."

Gil almost felt his heart crack in his chest. It was painful for him to listen to, to know that effectively all throughout her life, Sara had had no-one. "Do you still keep in contact with your mom?"

"Occassionally. Birthday cards, Christmas cards. She moved to Oregon after she was released, and she went to live with her sister, so we don't see each other all that much. To be honest, I don't know if I care." She snorted. "That's scary, isn't it?"

"Why?"

"I don't want anything to do with my family. I wanna cut them off and pretend like all this has never happened."

Grissom pursed his lips and took a breath. "That's not necessarily scary. It's ... it's understandable. I'm not sure that if I went through what you went through, I'd feel much different. You've obviously been deeply affected by what has happened in you life, and it's only natural that you want to distance yourself from those things that hurt you."

"As well as that may be, it doesn't explain why I stayed in Vegas."

"Ah."

"Ah, what?"

"I was wondering when we'd get down to this."

She ignored the comment, knowing that he probably didn't mean it in a snide way. "I won't pull any punches, Gil," she told him. "You have hurt me. Deeply, whether you wanted to or not. But I've forgiven you for that, because I know that sometimes you didn't mean it, and that I loved you for who you are, and that I ... that sometimes I wasn't very fair to you. I ... I don't know, Gil," she sighed. "You've hurt me, but I stayed here because I always thought that one day you'd see it. One day, you'd get that kick up your ass that you needed."

Grissom moved closer to her, pressing their bodies together. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you, but, as you know, sometimes my jealousy got the better of me, although that's not something I want to readily admit to, y'know? And it's hard for me to admit to that, because I don't want to acknowledge the fact that I've hurt someone whom I care about immensely. It's not something I'm very proud of."

She touched his face, and felt a slight wetness on his cheek, but didn't comment on it. "I know," she answered. "But I think it's something we should put behind us."

"I agree," he replied, his voice almost breaking. "But I'm having such a good time with you, all I can think about is 'If only I hadn't been such a dickhead, we'd be so much fruther along than we are now.' I'm either sadistic, or masochistic," he self-flagellated.

"You're cautious," she corrected him. "You didn't do it purposely. You did it because you were afraid, and fear is a very strong emotion."

"I've overcome that," he told her sincerely. He dipped his head, and kised her slowly and tenderly. "I love you," he whispered. "And I'd do anything for you. Anything," he stressed.

Sara smiled against his mouth. "Why do you think I'm with you?" she teased.

"You'll find out the day after tomorrow," he growled, entirely seriously.

Sara felt a hot rush of liquid arousal between her legs, and rubbed herself against him provocatively. "I'm sure I will," came her hoarse voice.

Gil rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "I'm positive you will."