a/n: sorry this took forever. i've been busy, as per usual. i had a swimming course to do...buti passed all my strokes...go me! lol. so now i have more time on my hands i can write some more...kay well i better post this cuz i have stuff to do. oh, and the sequel to cwcm is up to take a peek if ya have time. thank you muchly!
"You're getting toast crumbs in my sheets!"

Sara couldn't help but snort, holding her hand to cover her mouth, a piece of toast in her fingers. She turned to as Grissom looked at her with a mock-angry face but a smile in his eyes.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Gil Grissom said that to me," She said dryly, pretending to be romantic. Grissom --who was leaning against the pillows --smiled. Sara was just in front of him, between his legs and leaning against his chest, eating toast and wearing only a three-sizes-too-big forensics shirt and some girl boxers. He leaned over her shoulder and took a bite of her mid-air toast.

"Hey! I was still eating that…" She said, turning once again to look at him.

"I was hungry…" He pouted, running his hands up her thin waist. She popped the rest of the toast in her mouth and leaned farther back into him.

"Grissom?" She said after a moment. His chin came to rest upon her shoulder as his forearms encircled her.

"Promise me you won't regret this."

He placed a small kiss on her neck and smiled.

"Never."


Grissom walked down the hall, intently reading a piece of paper. That was the beauty of being a supervisor; you got away with 'I'm busy', or you could at least pretend you were busy and no one would bother you. Really, its an art. So Grissom found that if he pretended to read a piece of paper, he was less likely to be bothered.

This trick, consequentially, was also useful for being alone with your thoughts without interruption. And this particular night, his thoughts were being occupied by a certain gap-toothed brunette. There was only one thing that he could say about what had happened between them;

Wow.

This time though, he realized that maybe his little trick was a bit of a hazard as he saw the huge metal door swinging towards him at an extremely high speed. His thoughts quickly progressed from 'wow' to 'ow' as the door connected with his face. He staggered around the door as it made its regression back to the morgue. And, blinded by pain and shock, he stumbled into the person who had opened the door in the first place.

"Oh my God, Grissom! Are you okay?" came the familiar female voice as arms grabbed his to help him from falling over. Sara watched Grissom, his hands covering the bridge of his nose, stumbling around blindly. At the sound of her voice, he stopped moving and his blue eyes opened to stare at her.

"Ughh," he moaned, sounding very nasal, "I'm fine…I think. I can't feel it yet..."

Sara stood on her tip-toes and lifted his hands from his nose. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, looking at the angry red bump that was in the process of forming.

"Ohhh wait. Now I can feel it. Ughh!" Grissom said, grunting in pain.

"We need to get you some ice, come on…" She said, letting go of one hand and pulling on the other to get him to follow.

"Honey, I'm fine, it's just a little bump--"

Doc Robbins took that particular moment to hobble out of the doors of the morgue to find Sara and Grissom...He was calling her 'honey' and she was holding his hands. Al's eyebrow threatened to quirk...coincidence? Heat of the moment?

Maybe so...

"It is okay?" Doc Robbins asked. Grissom's eyes shot to the older man and he let go of Sara's hand, nodding weakly.

"It's swelling a little, but--"

"Not you! My door!"

"Al," Grissom said in a warning tone. The coroner smiled and hobbled over to look at the injury.

"Hm, you're lucky…you could have broken it, but you took some of the major shock across your forehead…you're going to have a bit of a bump, I'm afraid. That, and a bruise to contend with George Foreman," He said, poking and prodding at the other man's nose, ignoring as Grissom winced beneath his fingers.

"Great. Just great."


"Great…Just great…" Grissom muttered pleasurably as Sara's fingers dug into his broad shoulders. He sat on Sara's couch, an ice pack on his nose and forehead, having just finished the shift.

"You'll have to stick around for a bit. Doc said no sleeping for a while," Sara said in his ear.

"Mm…It hurts. And I'm going to look like I got mugged."

"You should have thought of that before you went four rounds with the morgue door," Sara laughed.

"Well maybe it wouldn't have happened if you didn't put the hinges though a workout…"

"You're right…I'm sorry. Can I make it up to you?" She said, letting go of his shoulders. He leaned back into the couch as Sara came to squat in front of him.

"You already have," He said. She smiled and then caught a whiff of something. Then she remembered why she'd come out of the morgue so fast in the first place.

Oh shit. The only thing bad about being a CSI and dating at once...

"'Scuse me, I need a shower…I'm reeking of decomp…"

She stood up, a little embarrassed. Grissom took the ice off of his face and attempted to wink at her, wincing in pain as he did so.

"Ouch…I love it when you talk dirty."

He pulled on her arm and she followed, and he successfully captured her in a kiss. She tried to be gentle around his nose, smiling at the one thing she had forgotten.

The good thing about dating a fellow CSI...they don't mind you smelling of decomp!

She smiled and pulled away.

"Don't you fall asleep on me," She warned, walking backwards in the direction of her bathroom. He gave her a wave and she disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower go on as he replaced the ice pack. He found he was quite unable to sit there when he knew that she was only a few yard away...

He gave her five minutes.

Then, setting the ice pack in the sink and grabbing a few fresh lemons from the fridge, he followed in hot pursit...

Very hot.


a/n: well. thanks to my lovely friend sparklin-strawberries, i rewrote this chapter and it turned out much better. lol.