Title: Hank and the 'H' word

Author: Lisa (ljkwriting4life)

Rating: M. 13+. Minor adult themes.

Pairing: Grissom/Sara

Summary: Grissom has made a big decision. He's getting what he's always wanted. (Stand-alone, season 6/7)


Sara heard the gentle thud of one of her glass tumblers against the table near the bed. She felt the bed dip beside her as Grissom put a hand on the mattress for balance. He was trying so hard not to wake her and she smiled about that; a soft tug on her lips that he might have seen if he was watching, but her eyes remained closed as he sat down and got comfortable. He propped his two pillows behind his back and remained seated with his legs stretched out under the sheet, and he sighed happily. He sounded content. Content with himself, with where he was, with the day ahead. Sara sighed happily too when she rolled into him and he put a hand on her back. The way he put his fingers lightly against her shirt and pressed his palm down onto the skin below was as deliberate and gentle as the way he had set the glass on the coaster; he thought she might still be asleep. Sara wrapped an arm over his hips and buried her face in against his side, telling him she wasn't.

"Sorry to wake you," he said, his voice soft, low and gravelly. "I couldn't sleep."

"That's usually my problem," she told him, but she had been sleeping much better, even on the days they spent apart. She knew she wasn't dreaming as he rubbed her back. "What time is it?"

"I'm not going to tell you," he said, jesting. "You'll think it's time to get up."

"That is definitely not what I'll think," Sara said, feeling bold. She lifted the hem of his shirt and pressed her lips and tongue to the soft skin of his waist. She grinned against him as he sucked his stomach in and emitted a deep, 'Oh'. "In fact," Sara said. "I like waking up to find you in my bed."

"The novelty hasn't worn off yet?" Grissom asked.

Sara couldn't tell if he was being serious, they were both still vulnerable and a little scared, but they had been doing this for a decent amount of time now. There was nothing novel about it.

"No, Gil," she assured him softly. She wasn't sure how to tell him that she wanted nothing more than to wake up next to him every day for the rest of her life, short of saying 'I love you', of course, which she hadn't said and she knew she should. She wanted to.

"I'm glad," Grissom said. He combed his fingers through the ends of her long, brown hair as Sara pushed herself up and rested her head against his chest. They wrapped their arms around each other and sat quietly. Their legs tangled beneath the sheet and Sara blinked the sleep from her eyes and allowed herself to wake up slowly. Their previous shift had been long and stressful, they had both collapsed into bed to sleep just as soon as they showered and dressed, closed the curtains and turned on the air conditioning. Outside it was hot and sunny, like always. Sara missed cool overcast mornings with gentle rain. She wondered if she would ever get to sit in bed with Grissom and listen to the rain. It just didn't rain like that in Vegas. It poured, it flooded, or there was nothing.

She sighed and battled with the thought that maybe that was just like her relationship with Grissom too. Were they still just playing in the floodwaters? What next?

"Honey," Grissom said, with a note of announcement. "I'm thinking of getting a dog."

Sara hesitated as her tired brain flip-flopped from pouring rain to puppies. Sometimes Grissom said things that were so out of the blue it was as though he had been carrying on a conversation with her in his head and had forgotten to say any of it out loud until the very last moment, and she wanted to make sure that this time she had heard him correctly.

She sat up and looked at him curiously. His blue-grey eyes were bright with excitement and life, and there was a hopeful little smile on his face as he waited for her to respond. Eternal youth, she thought. She loved that look. She saw it at work, sometimes.

"Did you say…you're thinking of getting a dog?" Sara asked. She raised her brow as a smile played on her parted lips. "What brought this on?"

Grissom clasped his hands in his lap and stared thoughtfully toward the foot of the bed.

"I have a few days off now, it's a good time. I've been thinking about it for a while," he said.

That did not surprise Sara at all.

"Mm," she hummed kindly. She rested a hand on his nearest thigh and waited for him to look at her. When he did she offered him an encouraging smile.

"I like dogs," he simply said. He frowned thoughtfully. "After dad died, mom let me get a dog. I was ten, I had to promise to look after him. In truth, I begged her for months, laid out my case, made my promises. I already had other pets. Mom tolerated the bugs but really isn't a dog person." He chuckled at a memory and tipped his head to one side. "I taught him to recognise sign language for commands though, so she could sign for him to sit and stay, he came to his name and the sound of a training clicker, for her. In the end, I think she came around. He died right before I went to college. It felt like an omen, I never got another dog, I never thought…that I could."

Sara frowned thoughtfully.

"Because of work?" she asked.

"I was so busy, studying and travelling," Grissom acknowledged softly. "Terrible hours."

"What's changed?" Sara asked curiously. They still worked terrible hours, and he still studied and flew off to conferences.

"I think I realised," Grissom began slowly. He looked into her eyes with a wistful expression. "That it's just one more thing I've been denying myself. I could find a regular sitter, don't you think?"

"Sure," Sara said. She smiled and allowed a glimmer of hopefulness to reach her eyes. She squeezed his thigh. "Gil, if this is something you've wanted for a long time, I think you should do it."

"Mm, you would say that," he quipped. His eyes were teasing her and the corner of his mouth twitched as he smirked playfully at her. Sara tried to look offended, but she laughed and shrugged as innocently as she could manage. Grissom softened as he put his hand to her cheek and jaw and brushed his thumb over her skin. "Darlin'," he added quietly. Sara pressed her lips together in a subtle kiss that crossed the air between them. "Would you mind?" he asked.

Sara raised her eyebrows. Grissom's hand fell from her face. He clutched her shoulder briefly before lightly tracing her arm and holding her hand on the sheet they had slept together beneath.

"Why would I mind?" she asked. "I like animals." She smiled. "And I know you like dogs."

"I thought it might change some things," Grissom said. "More time at my place."

"Ah," Sara said. She grinned brightly at him and shrugged. She didn't care about that the way he clearly thought she might. Grissom had the insufferable ability to forget that she had once dropped everything about her former life to come to Vegas to help him – her apartment, her job, old colleagues – and if given the chance she would do it all over again. Spending more time at his apartment between shifts instead of her own seemed trivial in comparison. Didn't he know that?

No, he didn't, and maybe that was partly her fault. They were edging closer to a conversation about moving in together, and Sara thought that was what Grissom eventually wanted. The novelty of shuffling between apartments between shifts had certainly worn off. Half of Sara's things always seemed to be somewhere else, and Grissom grappled with the same logistical battle. Maybe this was his way of telling her that, without asking her before she could say she loved him.

It was strange. Sara had always assumed she would be the one who would find saying the words and initiating those types of conversations with Grissom so easy. She was wrong. Grissom did know how she felt, she showed him her love, he never pressed her, but maybe he wasn't so sure.

"Will you come with me?" Grissom asked. "To the shelter."

"When?" Sara asked.

"Today," he said.

Sara laughed and then pursed her lips in his direction. Of course, he had already made up his mind, but he was also excited, purely excited and so sure, and her heart melted as she watched him.

"You don't want to go alone?" she asked. "If I'm there I'll bias the decision."

"I want your bias in my life, your intuition is faultless," Grissom said. The sudden compliment was full of confidence and sincerity, and the way he looked into her eyes was unwavering.

Sara knew she loved him as tears stung her eyes. She managed a smile as she held them in.

"Better than mine," he admitted shyly. "And…it's my dog, I don't want you to feel burdened by it, but I want to make sure you're comfortable too. I'd like you to be there."

Sara placed a hand on his chest as he raised his eyebrows hopefully and watched her gather herself to speak.

"Thank you," she said. She nodded and leant in to touch her lips to his. She tried to tell him how she felt in the brief kiss, and Grissom's arms wrapped around her and he soon pulled her into a hug. "I've never had a pet," she admitted against his shoulder, as excitement began to tickle inside her stomach. "Can I help look after it?"

"Of course," Grissom said. They sat back and looked into each other's eyes, and Grissom held her hand.

"At the trailer park," Sara explained. "One of my foster homes, some of the other residents had dogs, and there were some strays that hung around for food. I would sit outside to do my homework and they would come up to me for a pat, and some love I guess."

"I bet they could sense you needed that too," Grissom said after a long pause.

"Mm," Sara hummed. She focused on the way his hand was stroking back and forth over the top of her own hand so she didn't cry. She was proud of herself for looking into Grissom's eyes and sharing her past with him over so many months now; stories about her different foster homes, the parents and social workers, court, visitation with her mom, the other children, the schools, how she got out of the system. She had told him the lot, and only these small, incidental stories were left.

Grissom talked about his past more too, his dad, his childhood, things that happened to him as a boy and in college. Sara had noticed he was more open with the rest of the team as well, and they would tell each other when Grissom revealed something unexpectedly personal on the job because it was so surprising to them, but Sara understood where that was coming from with him.

"You're all right?" Grissom asked. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see into her, to read her.

Sara smiled a little and nodded. His intuition wasn't so bad, she told herself. That was just something he said.

"I'm in love with you," she whispered before she chickened out. Her eyes flicked anxiously to his and bore into him. After all, maybe that could just be something she said aloud, too. She had felt it for long enough, she had tried to deny it for almost as long as he had. "You know that," she added.

Grissom said nothing as he looked into her eyes, and that was fair, she had made him wait. He did know it. Nothing changed about the way he held her hand. He gave her time to breathe.

"It gets easier," he said after a moment. "I promise."

Sara glanced at him seriously and nodded. She trusted him, and she knew what it had taken for him to tell her that he loved her, first, before she said a word. She knew she wasn't alone in feeling slightly unhinged by it all, even at the same time as they both felt so connected, and happy.

She let a smile play on her lips as she thought about the day ahead, the day with Grissom. The sun was shining, after all.

"Are we really going to get a dog today?" she asked.

"I hope so," Grissom said. He grinned.


Sara had thought about volunteering in an animal shelter for a while when she was younger, but looking back, she knew if she had she would have cried too many tears, and back then she hadn't been ready to cry at all, over anything. Now it was hard not to look into the eyes of the dogs in kennels that they passed without feeling her eyes sting. Old dogs, sick dogs, abandoned dogs, neglected dogs; some huddled in the backs of their temporary homes while others came right up to the gates to see them, all in varying stages of recovery. Every gate had a sign attached that provided the dog's name, age if it was known, and a fun fact. Benny loves fetch, Gizmo is a bundle of energy, Princess will never leave you. Sara sighed as she looked at each one with a deep sense of longing.

Grissom's hand was on the small of her back as they followed the shelter volunteer to a room where they could bring in a dog to meet with them. Grissom's criteria had been relatively broad. He wanted an older dog, medium-to-large sized, preferably one with some training, and toilet trained because he didn't have a yard and would need to take the dog in and out of his apartment. He needed a dog without separation anxiety or one who was used to being handled by a few different people because of the hours they worked and the fact the dog would need to be walked or looked after by a third party on occasion. He had also said he wanted a dog that was calm, because their work could be stressful, and he didn't want a dog that fed off their anxiety, or vice versa.

Sara had listened to that last bit and she knew he was talking about her. Grissom did get stressed, but outwardly he often appeared calm. Sara was the outwardly expressive one, the one who had nightmares in the middle of the day and who never slept and who stared off into space and cried in the shower after stressful cases she couldn't let go of. She loved that Grissom was thinking about her, imagining her in this dog's world too, he wanted the dog to be good for her. Sara wasn't upset that he cared enough to factor it into his decision, but she wished that things were different.

"This one doesn't have a name?" she asked when she saw a brown and white dog sitting at a gate with a blank sign overhead. A boxer, maybe. Two round, brown eyes stared straight into her, and Sara stopped walking and stared at the animal.

"That's Hank," the volunteer said. "He's new." The young man flipped through the pages on his clipboard. "Yep, he was with the vet this morning and I think he'll probably be moved on soon."

"Moved on?" Sara asked. Her brow shot up into her forehead as her stomach rolled over.

"Just to a different part of the shelter," the volunteer said, sensing her concern for the dog's future. "He's too big for this pen, I don't know why he's here. This section is…mostly smaller dogs."

Sara nodded, reassured, and she crouched down in front of the dog so they were eye-to-eye.

"What's his story?" Grissom asked. "He doesn't look neglected."

"We wasn't, he's a surrender. His owner died and the daughter brought him to us. She couldn't look after him. He's eight. I uh, I can track down the vet's report, if you're keen."

"I think we might be," Grissom replied, so quietly Sara almost did not hear him. She had touched the backs of her fingers to the gate and let Hank smell her and touch her with his nose. He seemed timid and sad, but he was not afraid of her, and he didn't bark or cry or make a sound.

Sara knew the staff had been planning to bring a different dog to the meeting room for them, a dog they felt would be a good match, but part of her heart thought she wanted this one.

It wasn't her choice, though, because it wasn't going to be her dog, so she backed away and stood. She offered Grissom an apologetic smile when she saw his eyebrows raised in expectation.

"You really shouldn't have brought me to a shelter," she said, teasing him with her eyes. "He's older than I thought you wanted." She bit her bottom lip as Grissom crouched in her place by the gate. He and Hank observed one another, and Sara grinned when she saw the dog's expression light up. She had no idea what the look in Grissom's eyes might have been in that moment, or what might have silently transpired between them to effect such a change, but Grissom glanced over his shoulder to look up at Sara and the volunteer. With Grissom's back turned, Hank edged closer still to the gate and sat and waited, like a dog who knew he had been a very good boy for this strange man.

"I'd like to meet this one too," Grissom said. They kept walking, and when Sara looked over her shoulder at the dog they were leaving in his cage she noticed Grissom turn his head to do the same. They caught one another's eyes and smiled softly, and Grissom took her hand.


"Are you going to tell them?" Sara asked that afternoon, as she appeared from the bathroom holding her toothbrush in her mouth. Grissom smiled at her. He might have had the next two nights off but Sara had to work, and he would miss her, but now he had a distraction. On the way home from the shelter with Hank they had stopped to buy a collar and lead, bowls, a rope toy and a cuddly toy, and a large cushion dog bed for the floor. The woman who surrendered him had given the shelter information about the type of food he had eaten all his life, so Grissom had bought some of that as well, and some treats. He had spent a lot of money but it was all worth it. Hank was wandering around the apartment, sniffing, patiently acquainting himself with his new home.

"No," Grissom said.

Sara accepted that answer and returned to the bathroom to spit out her toothpaste. She'd had a shower and was dressed in long pants and a t-shirt, and her naturally curly hair was dry and pulled back in a ponytail. She did not have a straightener at Grissom's house, and the steamy shower had re-energised her curls even if she had tried to keep them away from the warm water.

"Maybe we'll both get a lot better at leaving on time," Sara mused when she again returned from the bathroom. "I wonder if anyone will notice."

"They haven't so far," Grissom said.

"True," she said. She collapsed onto the couch beside him with a heavy but content sigh, and Hank trotted over to her. Sara smiled. She lazily reached out her hand and scratched around Hank's jaw, she let him lick her fingers and forearm, and she rubbed around his neck and the back of his ear.

"I think he likes you," Grissom said.

The decision had been a no-brainer. They had met two dogs at the shelter, and Hank had been brought in second. The first dog had been a collie-cross and was too high-energy for them. Sara even flinched as the dog whipped past her in his excitement. Grissom didn't even think Sara was aware that she had done it, but he noticed her nerves, and then Hank had trotted in, easy-going as could be. He had looked around the room for a while, then he came to Grissom, then Sara. He just sat and let them pat him. Sara had deliberately hung back to give Grissom a chance, but Grissom wasn't offended that the dog particularly liked his girlfriend; if he was a dog he would love Sara too.

Still, Hank had walked up to Grissom first, on his own, as Grissom had knelt on the ground. Hank ate a few treats, he let Grissom pat him and wagged his tail. He was calm and quiet. It turned out the deceased owner had been an older man, Hank had lived in a condo, it had always been just the two of them until the adult daughter had been forced to take him in, but she had cats and noisy children and it just hadn't worked out. Hank needed a quiet life. Grissom knew all about that need.

It's going to work out now, Grissom promised Hank in silence as he too patted the dog.

Grissom knew Hank might only have a few years left, but they were going to be good years. He and Sara would give Hank a good second home, they had clearly already started. Hank looked blissed out. Sara caught Grissom's eye as she scratched behind Hank's ear, and Grissom brushed his hand against hers as they showered affection on the dog. He watched her grin. That big, beautiful smile that made his stomach melt and flip-flop and twist into knots. That feeling never went away.

"But who wouldn't, right?" he asked, continuing his thought from earlier.

"You know," Sara said thoughtfully after a moment. Her cheeks flushed. "Since we…started this, together-"

Grissom nodded in understanding.

"-It's been hard some nights for me to go to work, harder when you've got the night off."

"Mm," Grissom hummed.

"I've never wanted to leave less," she said with a chuckle. "What are you two going to do?"

"The crossword," Grissom said easily. "Maybe some training. An evening walk. A nap. Lots of fun things." He paused and looked into her eyes. "We'll be here when you get home, Sara."

Grissom watched something flicker in her eyes that was hard to read. Was it love or pain? Maybe no one had ever said that to her before. It was new for him too but it felt natural, and right.

"I know," she assured him. "I know that." She smiled, and even though her smile was a little bit forced, Grissom leant in and kissed her. He let go of Hank and took Sara's face in his hands and kissed her with all the love he felt, and all the gratitude he had, because she was his home too, and she was the one who had waited for him to be comfortable in the relationship first, and she had given him a thousand chances to get to this point. Grissom didn't want to ruin it.

Sara kissed him passionately. Grissom could feel her emotions just beneath the surface of her touch, emotions that she was still coming to terms with herself, and that was all right. When they pulled away Grissom pressed his forehead to hers and kept them close. She caught her breath.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too," she mumbled. Her eyes flicked up into his as they parted slightly and smiled at each other. "Now I guess we have two secrets," she added, as she glanced briefly at Hank and then back at Grissom. Hank was sitting in front of them, staring at them. "I might love Hank," she admitted flippantly to Grissom. She arched a playful brow in his direction. "Is that okay?"

"Just don't dress him up like a medic on your nights off and we'll be fine," Grissom said. His eyes teased her, and Sara laughed. Grissom knew about her old relationship with Hank the paramedic, it had ended years ago now and he had used her, and it was nothing compared to what they had…and they couldn't change the dog's name. "You better go," Grissom said when he realised the time. He stood as Sara stood and he walked her to the door. Hank followed, and Sara gathered her keys and coat on the way. Grissom put a hand on Sara's back as they paused at the closed front door, Sara's hand on the handle. Grissom stepped in and kissed her again, he could not help himself.

She loved him.

Of course, he knew that. Sara had told him how she felt in a hundred other ways since they first met. It was confirmed for him again as she simply said, "Oh, Gil", as their lips parted. She didn't have to say anything else, and he hoped that she hadn't felt pressured to do so. He didn't think that was the case, he thought she was just ready. She leant her head back against the door and smiled.

"Today was a very good day," she confirmed. "Sleep tight."

"Be safe," he whispered. He let her out. They had to be more careful about the open door now that Hank was there, and Grissom closed it quickly once she left. He locked it and sighed. It was never easy for him to take nights off, it was hard not to feel responsible for his team when he knew they were out there working while he rested, but Grissom also knew that he had to get better about managing his time as supervisor too. Sara was doing well. She was keeping up with some counselling and taking her rostered nights off and leaving shifts on time. The dark circles that had taken up residence under her eyes for so long had disappeared and she had more enthusiasm for the job, and Grissom was proud of her. He wanted to take better care of himself too. He was looking forward to walking Hank every day and having another warm body in the apartment when he was there alone.

"Hey boy," Grissom said as Hank followed him back into the living room. "You're going to be good company for both of us, hey? I'll look after you too."

Before Hank could attempt to answer – though he looked extremely happy about his new assignment – Grissom's cell phone rang on the side table and he grabbed it. Sara Sidle. His heart leapt in his chest, just like it always had when he saw her name appear on his phone, on paperwork, on the jobs board in the lab, on anything. The variables didn't matter. Her name? Same reaction.

"Did you forget something?" he asked into the phone. "Hank and I are having a great time."

"No," Sara said, laughing. It was also clear she was in her car, driving. "I'm very happy for you and Hank, but I did think of something we are going to need very soon."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I'm covered in hair, Gil."

"Ah," Grissom said as he grinned and looked at Hank, who was panting happily. "Hank?"

"The one and only. I assume you are too?"

Grissom glanced at the brown and white dog hair on the thighs of his dark pants.

"I see where you're going with this."

"I can cover with a story about my neighbour's dog tonight, but it won't take a genius to work it out if we're not careful," Sara said more seriously. "Dog hair on me, dog hair on you. Nick loves dogs, he loves them, he will be all over it if there's any hint either one of us has a dog."

Grissom chuckled, because that was very true, and he hadn't thought about Hank giving them away. Neither of them wanted the rest of the team to know that a relationship had evolved. If it came out, then they would have to work on different shifts, and selfishly, Grissom did not want to work apart from her. Sara had made it clear she didn't want to work for anyone other than him too, and she was nervous about the gossip and how it would change her friendship with the guys, and Catherine. Grissom was nervous about that too, so they agreed to keep it private. He was only 'Gil' at home, with her. So far it was working. So far it was everything Grissom had imagined and more.

"Tomorrow I'll stop by my apartment to get a few more things and I'll get some lint rollers on the way home," Sara said into the phone. "We'll stash them by the door and in the cars."

"Good idea," Grissom said, smiling at the way the 'H' word rolled off her tongue. Home, singular. She still had her apartment, but home was with him. "Hank and I will see you in the morning."

"You will," she promised before she hung up.

Grissom tossed a nearby toy for Hank and watched him hurry after it and bring it back. Hank dropped the toy and then wandered over to his new dog bed by the wall. Grissom hoped he would feel safe resting there. The shelter had also given them a free crate and Sara had helped Grissom set it up nearby as well. They had covered it in old towels to make the inside dark and had lined it with a folded-up old blanket until they could get a square bed that fit inside. Hank hadn't gone into it yet, they didn't know if he would, but that was okay. He curled up on his dog bed and stared at Grissom.

"Hank," Grissom said happily. He signed for Hank to come to him and Hank lifted his head. After a moment, and as Grissom patted the couch cushion Sara had vacated, Hank hurried over and climbed up onto the couch. He lay down for a pat, and Grissom reached for his crossword puzzle too. "Good boy," he said.


Three nights later, Grissom kept checking his cell phone for any calls he might have missed.

"You're nervous," Sara said when she cornered him in his office. She pursed her lips smugly and folded her arms over her chest.

"A little bit," he admitted after putting the phone down and meeting her eyes. "Aren't you?"

He knew she was. Sara had given him a list of questions to ask the dog sitting business the previous day that had left Grissom in no doubt of how nervous she was, not only about a stranger looking after Hank but someone having access to Grissom's home. She let him see that uncertainty and protectiveness in her eyes again. She was standing with her back to the door so no one could see her expression, and her body shielded Grissom from the lab. She arched a slender eyebrow and shrugged, suggesting she couldn't help her worry. Grissom nodded. He tried to remind them both that most people in the world were good, and worthy of trust. He and Hank would be just fine, and it was only temporary, an early arrangement until they figured out what their new routine would be.

They shared a silent conversation for a moment as Grissom considered how the evening might be going. The sitter would have stopped by to make sure Hank had water and an evening walk. The neighbour had his number to report any barking. It was past two in the morning, so hopefully Hank was in his bed, asleep. Grissom and Sara had distracted themselves with work for hours but the lab was enduring its usual mid-morning lull as the graveyard shift took its toll on people's bodies and more people took their break. Grissom tried not to think about how much this felt like a parent worrying about a child who was being left with a sitter for the first time, because he and Sara were past that.

Not that they had clearly talked about it, Grissom suddenly realised, and Sara was still in her mid-thirties so to be fair if she wanted to try it could be a discussion, but she didn't, or he never brought it up, so…they didn't? Christ.

"Are you all right?" Sara asked. "Do you have a migraine?"

Grissom realised he was squinting and his brow was furrowed. His neck was at an odd angle.

He snapped back to attention and corrected his posture as he shook his head.

"No, I'm fine, sorry." It was a conversation for another time, and maybe time would render it unnecessary. They weren't there yet.

Sara's expression softened as she smiled, as though she understood.

"Don't apologise," she said in a warm, soothing tone that made him want to curl up in bed with her. "It's fine. I um-" She gestured as though she should go, and Grissom nodded.

"There you both are!" Greg exclaimed from nearby as he catapulted himself around the doorframe in a rush. "Wait until you see what I've found. Layout room, I-" He paused. Sara had turned to smile at him and Grissom had just raised his eyebrows to listen to Greg, but Greg had spotted something on Sara's shoulder under the blue light of the lab and had picked it off her black shirt. He chuckled. "A-ha, what's this, a mystery man?" he asked as he looked at her. "You go, girl."

Grissom frowned as Sara glared at Greg, whose eyes went wide as he glanced at Grissom. Grissom assumed that Greg had found one of Hank's hairs on Sara but his reaction made no sense. Did Greg really think it was a man's hair? Greg looked from Grissom to Sara and smiled sweetly.

"I think this belongs to you," he said as he handed the trace evidence to Sara, instead of just flicking it away. Sara accepted it but she was still glaring.

Grissom could not even see what she was holding from so far away, but she had something.

"I'll give you a moment," Greg then added, backing away. "But, the layout room-"

"We'll be there, Greg," Sara promised.

He nodded and briefly waved before he turned on his heels and walked away.

Grissom hesitated. Sara walked to his desk where his lamp radiated a warm yellow light.

"Hank?" he asked softly after looking around to make sure they were truly alone.

"No," Sara said. She brushed her palms together to get rid of the evidence and turned to face him with a playful smile. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes were dancing. "You. Silver, curly, both yours. Greg's got a great eye; they must have really been sparkling in the light."

Grissom froze and his eyes went wide.

"Me?" he asked. Surely it was more likely that Catherine might one day pluck one of Sara's hairs off his collar, which thankfully had never happened. He didn't have the foggiest idea how-

Oh wait, he thought.

His eyes glazed as he recalled running his own hand through his hair before they left for work that night, and before he had helped Sara with her bag that went over her shoulder. Then there was the reason he had been running his hand through his hair in the first place; to calm down after she kissed him in the kitchen, with her her mouth on his lips and over his ear and her hands in his hair as he kissed down her neck and held her body. Then he had helped her with her bag.

Okay, maybe he knew how it happened.

"It's okay," Sara whispered. She shrugged. "Don't worry, incidental transfer. Glaring works."

"Right," Grissom said in a disbelieving voice as the memory faded and he frowned with concern. "What do you mean it works? Has this happened before? Does he know?"

"No, I don't think so, not exactly," she said. Her smile was confident. She and Greg had become close friends. "Of course, if you're worried, I could just tell them all I'm seeing Hank."

Grissom laughed and shook his head as Sara flashed him a grin and started to back out of the office. She knew their colleagues would assume she was talking about Hank the paramedic.

Maybe he should change the dog's name after all, Grissom reasoned, but Sara was only teasing. She knew exactly where his mind had just gone too, straight back to their kitchen.

"See you, and lovely Hank, at home. I can't wait," Sara said with a sincere look in her eyes before she left. Grissom gave her a head-start so she could deal with Greg, if indeed she needed to deal with Greg and his assumptions. He leant against his desk and closed his eyes. He was tired. He had never been more satisfied and comfortable with himself, but emotionally he was also stretched, and despite what people might assume, the pressure had far more to do with the stress of work than with Sara. Hank would be a good companion, a distraction, something to ground him and to help him switch off from work when he walked through his front door each morning after shift. Grissom took a breath and thought of his dog, and Sara's beautiful brown eyes, and he felt calm again. It was all right to want Sara, and a dog, and a home outside of the lab. For now, he had it all.