It had been a long and frustrating shift. On their current case they had lots of evidence, too much in fact and none of it was leading them anywhere. Grissom had forced himself and Sara to leave after their first double, claiming that they weren't getting anywhere and sleep would do them good. She had reluctantly agreed, making it all the way to her car before she cursed and met up with him again, finally finding him at his own car.

"I can't go home Grissom." She told him.

He blinked at her sudden appearance beside his Denali. He hadn't seen her come up at all, a sad testament to how tired he really was. "You need your sleep Sara, we both do. Then we can look at the evidence with fresh eyes." he replied.

"That's not what I meant. My apartment is being fumigated. I meant to ask Nick if I could stay at his place at the beginning of the shift," she quickly looked down at her watch, "Two days ago. But I forgot. Now he's left and I can't get a hold of him." Grissom watched her irritation grow with every sentence she spoke. At least he knew in this case that it wasn't directed at him, but more at herself for forgetting to do something so vital.

He sighed, "You can stay with me Sara. Climb aboard." He really didn't know whether to be excited or terrified the words that came so easily out of his mouth. He longed to get closer to Sara even though he knew he shouldn't. What better opportunity than having her as a house guest? But that also meant that she would be crowding his personal space for at least 48 hours. He wasn't entirely sure he could handle that. He pulled out of his parking space after she had climbed in, reasoning to himself that if she really became a problem that he could come into work early and keep up with the paper mountain on his desk.

"Stop at my car for a second, Grissom." She pointed, and he pulled to a stop. He quickly popped the trunk of his Denali when he realized what she was doing. Sara quickly tossed a small bag into the back and placed her kit beside Grissom's. Quickly hiding her smile as the thought of his and her kits flew into her mind.

She slid back into the passenger seat, "All set." Grissom nodded and pulled out of the parking lot towards home.

Sara smiled at the gallant way that Grissom carried her bag, quelling her laughter when he asked her to hold it so he could find his keys. In the end it was her that carried it over the threshold, she doubted he even realized that his macho gesture had been for not.

He stepped inside behind her, immediately dropping his own bag and sitting down on the couch. She smiled at him, he looked tired, adorably so. Like a little boy that had convinced his parents to let him stay up late only to fall asleep a few minutes after his standard bed time.

She left him in a light doze in the living room while she investigated the kitchen. Unlike hers it was well stocked, fruits, vegetables, eggs, bread, cheese. She saw the beginnings of a great omelette and quickly set to work, quietly trying to find a skillet without waking Grissom.

A few minutes later she had succeeded and had all the ingredients laid out on the counter. For Grissom a western omelette, with ham, onion, cheese and green peppers and for herself a cheese omelette with onion, green peppers and mushrooms. She quickly scrambled the eggs and set them to cook, adding her ingredients to them, making sure to use ample cheese.

The toast she had put in earlier popped, surprisingly loudly and she was certain she had woken up Grissom for sure but he hadn't moved a muscle since she started cooking. She smiled to herself, he was probably used to the overly exuberant toaster.

Sara then moved on to buttering and cutting of the toast, putting a slice on each of their plates, along with a couple strawberries for him and kiwi slices for her. Finally the omelettes were done, and the part she hated most. She could never seem to fold them properly and get them to hold long enough to make the transfer to the plate. She didn't care how many cook books said to use cheese like glue, it just didn't work for her. She sighed; picking up the spatula, Grissom could probably make omelettes with ease and flip pancakes like nobody's business. She smiled at the thought that maybe he could teach her one day.

Setting herself to her task, Sara took a deep breath and started with her own omelette. She nearly made it, except the unexpected collision with the side of the skillet caused the omelette to land on her plate in several large pieces. She consoled herself as she moved on to Grissom's that at least she had got all the pieces on her plate. She stared at the second omelette for a minute, willing it to cooperate. She folded it neatly, pressing it down before transferring it to Grissom's plate. She couldn't believe her eyes, she had done it. The perfect omelette! She grinned, and it was Grissom's omelette too. Somehow that made her inordinately proud.

She grabbed forks and placed hers in the middle of her plate, as if she had started breaking up the omelette to eat it. The evidence was there, Grissom didn't need to know that she had floundered on her own omelette. She set both plates down on the coffee table in front of Grissom as well as a glass of orange juice for each of them.

"Grissom?" she called softly, "Grissom?" she increased a little in volume when she realized she wasn't getting a response from him. He didn't move at all, perhaps in a much deeper sleep than Sara had originally thought. She debated on whether to wake him or not, he needed his sleep. But unlike you Sara Sidle, Grissom will have no trouble getting back to sleep after breakfast. She nodded to herself, moving around to the couch and Grissom. She couldn't stop herself from running her hand through his curls, delighted when he softly moaned her name but didn't awaken. She got bolder, cupping his cheek in her palm and caressing it with her thumb. "Grissom." He blinked at her soft tone, eyes re-adjusting until he saw her face clearly above him. "I made breakfast." She told him before quickly slipping away to the other side of the table.

He looked down at the table, noticing the perfect omelette sitting on a plate, just waiting for him. "This looks wonderful Sara, thank you." She smiled in response before digging into her own omelette. Something about making him breakfast stirred something in her, it felt right, unbelievable right.

They ate in companionable silence, each working through their own breakfast. Grissom finished his omelette and toast first, moving onto his strawberries, "I'm impressed, half the time I can never get the omelette to fold over properly and the rest of the time it slides off the spatula before it ever makes it to a plate."

Sara laughed at the comment; they really were a match made in heaven. "Funny you should mention that Grissom, my omelette suffered a similar fate to the one's you make. And here I was worried that you would mock my culinary skills. "She responded, a smile on her face.

"On the contrary Sara, this is the best omelette I've had in years. You know Catherine was over here a few months ago and I made omelettes for breakfast. She watched me destroy mine before taking the spatula from me and finishing hers perfectly. And that was after 3 screw drivers. "They chuckled at the image together.

"Maybe it's a mom thing." Sara offered. "Once you reproduce you gain all the knowledge of the culinary universe, like how to complete omelettes, flip pancakes and what really grows underneath your fridge."

He grinned, "Some mysteries are not meant to be solved."