Chapter Thirteen:

At the age of 48, Gil Grissom never thought he would find enjoyment in addressing someone as his girlfriend. Hell, he didn't even think he would have someone to introduce as such. The waitress in this run-down diner in the middle of nowhere at 3am didn't need to know she was his girlfriend, but it just slipped out. After a grizzly case in a cabin in the middle of the desert, with no real evidence to collect or document, they send the body back to the morgue with David and stop off for a quick bite to eat before the long slog that will be trying to solve this case. Sara slides into the booth pulling her coat closing around her body, she always hated the desert cold. Grissom follows taking the space opposite, pulling her out a menu, keeping one for himself he begins to scan the page for something to eat. A waitress comes over to take a drinks order, just as Sara's cell phone chimes from somewhere inside her coat. Pulling the offending item from her pocket, she flips it open to see a message from Greg, regarding their case from the night before.

'What can I get you to drink?'

'Coffee for me and a green tea for my girlfriend please.' Sara's head snaps up, and looks between him and the waitress, who at 3am in the morning probably wouldn't have cared if he called her the Queen of England, she looked beat, like sleep was a distance memory. The nightshift, Sara relates. Not paying much attention to his slip up or Sara for that matter, Grissom returns his attention back to the menu. Quickly firing off a reply to Greg, she picks up her menu, pretending to read its offerings. After a few moments Grissom clears his throat. 'Did you see the pastry case on the way in? I might just have one of them, what are you thinking?'

'Yeah, I might grab a cinnamon swirl.' She flattens the menu and smiles at him. The moment broken by two cups slamming down in front of them, Grissom his coffee, black comes with a small jug of milk and selection of sugars, and Sara her green tea with a slice of lemon.

'Ready to order?' Grissom gestures to Sara first.

'Cinnamon swirl please, oh and a cherry yoghurt.' The waitress jots down her request and turns to Grissom.

'Custard crown please.' The waitress whips the menus from underneath their hands and walks away quickly.

Sara looks at him over her cup, blowing the steam away, smirking to herself behind the rim of the white porcelain. The waitress returns in record time with their food. Pulling a spoon from her apron pocket, she drops it on the table and turns away before they have chance to thank her.

'You know, technically, we are at work. You just broke rule number one.' She sips her tea and lowers it down, just enough so he can see her smile.

'You know, technically. I don't care.' He takes a bite from his pastry, settling it down on the plate and grabbing a napkin to clean his fingers off.

'Good to know.' She places her cup down and picks her yoghurt up, pulling back the lid carefully she picks up the spoon, turning it over in front of her inspecting it to within an inch of its life. Grissom sensing her discomfort at the fact it was nestled in the waitress's apron which may never have seen a washing machine, picks his spoon up from the side of his coffee cup, licking it clean he hands it over to her. She grimaces and she takes it from him. 'And that's any better because?'

'Saliva has its benefits. Plus you kiss me, a lot! What's a bit of spit between.' He looks at her over his glasses. 'Lovers...' Saliva being her one and only vice in her job role, he knows that. She takes the spoon and drops it into her yoghurt pot, stirring the contents, lifting it out with a hearty amount of cherry yoghurt heaped she brings it to her mouth and eats it. He smiles, twitching his head to the side slightly before picking up his pastry and taking another bite. Sara finishes her yoghurt, licks the spoon clean and drops it back into his coffee cup. Looking up from his make out session with his pastry he finishes chewing the last bite. 'Now that wasn't very nice, was it?' Sara leans forward, wiping some custard from the side of his mouth with her finger.

'It's just spit babe.' She licks her finger and picks up her cinnamon swirl, taking a bite keeping eye contact with him, leaning back in her seat raising an eyebrow in a sultry manner.

'We need to go.' He wipes his mouth with a napkin, crumples it up and drops it on his plate. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he drops more than enough to cover their bill. Downing the rest of his drink, he practically pulls Sara from the booth, cinnamon swirl in hand to the Denali.

'Griss… What's the matter? Why do we need to lea…' Her sentence is cut off by him pinning her to the side of the Denali, nestled at the darkest point in the parking lot. His mouth crushing down on hers, tongue pushing past her lips for entry. He can taste the lemon from her tea, the cinnamon on her lips. She nearly drops her cinnamon swirl but manages to keep a decent grip whilst she kisses him back. Her other hand snaking around his side to slide under his windbreaker and under his vest, gripping his hip. She moans into his mouth as he slides a leg in-between hers pushing her further into the cold metal of the car. He drops his mouth to her neck, pushing her collar down with his chin. 'Gil… Griss… We shouldn't be doing this here.'

'I don't care.' He gruffs into her neck, his hands either side of her head, pressing down on the glass. She pushes her hand up his chest and knocks him back a step or two.

'You aren't the Grissom I thought I knew.' She wipes at her mouth with her hand, her cinnamon swirl now crushed in her other. He furrows his eyebrows, worried he has just crossed a line, that he took advantage of her in the moment, that she didn't want this. 'Oh no. I mean in a good way.' She pulls her collar back up and brings her cinnamon swirl back round to her mouth. Pursing her lips, she pauses before taking a bite. 'Let's get going lover.' She brushes past him to the passenger side of the Denali. Attempting to regain her composer she gives her head a quick shake before pulling the door open and climbing inside. He remains rooted to the spot for a moment, looking around the deserted car park he pushes his glasses back up his nose and moves for the driver's side. Turning the car on, they pull out of the carpark his hand instinctively reaching for hers to hold on the console between them. She looks down at their hands and back up to his face.

'Mention those rules one more time Sara, I dare you.' He smirks into the darkness, then turns to look at her, mouth hanging open. She brings his hand up to her mouth and kisses his knuckles.

'Wasn't going to dream of it.' She brings his hand back down with hers into her lap and they drive back to the lab in silence.