A/N: Spike is showing an obscene amount of episodes today and tomorrow, and of course, all the ones I want to write for. So if you're watching the repeats along with me, I will more than likely fall a little behind.

Spoilers for episode 7x22, Leapin' Lizards.

I was so concentrated, bent forward over the desk, nose just inches from the ceiling of the miniature, that I didn't hear her coming. I didn't even know she was there, until her arms slid around me from behind, a piece of paper in her hand.

"Why didn't you send this?" she murmured into my ear.

I looked up at her in surprise. She had found the second of my letters never sent.

"This one I would have liked to receive," she said.

I sighed and put down the final wall siding I was about to glue into my miniature office.

"I didn't send it because I'm a coward, honey," I said, raising my hands. "My name is Gil Grissom, and I am a coward."

She took a seat on the edge of my desk.

"You are not," she said, poking my shoulder. "This was beautiful. You should have sent it."

I wrinkled my brow.

"It wasn't too cheesy?"

"Shakespeare is never too cheesy for me," she replied.

"And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare," I began. "As any she belied with false compare."*

Sara's gaze flickered downward, and she looked back up at me with that teasing smirk on her face.

"Are you trying to get yourself laid?"

He chuckled.

"This is probably the one time I will ever say this, but no, I'm not."

Sara slid off the desk just slightly, so she was right in front of me. She leaned forward a little, giving me an unobstructed view down her tank top that I tried so hard not to stare at.

"So… you're not coming to bed?"

I held my breath at her closeness.

"Give me a minute, honey," I said. "I'm almost done with this."

She nodded, but I could sense the disappointment she was feeling. She didn't understand why I wanted to build this miniature. She didn't realize that acting like and working like the killer might have been the only way I had left to get to him.

When I finally did finish, all of the walls glued in, and some of the other odds and ends in place, she was back in bed, wrapped in her robe and staring at a Godzilla remake on the TV.

"Another lizard movie?" I asked, slipping into bed next to her.

She nodded.

"There's a marathon."

We watched it for several moments before she reached for the remote and unexpectedly turned it off. She turned toward me.

"Why do you find it so difficult to talk to me?" she asked.

I searched her features for a clue of what she was feeling. I couldn't tell.

"I don't know," I admitted. "One of life's mysteries, I guess."

She crossed her arms in front her chest.

"Seriously," she pressed. "Why?"

I thought for a moment, studying her face and contemplating all the things I felt for her. I knew they were true, I felt them every day, reminded myself of them every day, but often had trouble voicing them to the one person who deserved to hear them.

"Because how I feel for you is something I have never felt before," I said eventually. "And I still… struggle… with what to do with that."

"You could try telling the truth."

"Ah, 'the pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives'**," I said. "And with you, my dear, I must face both. Truth and beauty."

Despite herself, Sara's lips tugged into a grin.

"I don't ask for much," she said, settling into the covers a little so that she was closer to me. "I just want you to be honest with me. No matter the situation."

"I will," I promised. "Or at least, I'll try."

"That's all I ask," Sara grinned, kissing me several times. "Now. I have an important question for you, so think of this as your first test of honesty. Are you ready?"

I couldn't tell if she was teasing or serious, so I took a deep breath, kissed her, and nodded.

"I'm ready."

"Do you believe," she said slowly. "That there's lizard life on other planets?"

She said it so seriously, I wanted to laugh right away. But I kept my poker face as long as I could, looking into her eyes directly like I was thinking deeply on her important, serious question.

"I think as long as there's no irrefutable proof that there isn't, we must only assume there is."

We continued staring at each other, as serious as could be, until both of us broke face at the same time and burst out laughing. I pulled her close and planted sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss on her shoulders and neck, making her giggle more. I climbed atop her and poked her sides as I kissed, making her squirm beneath me. When I pulled back to look at her, she was red in the face from all the laughter, gazing up at me. I reached out to push her hair back.

"God, you are beautiful like this."

She winked at me.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

She grabbed the collar of my t-shirt and pulled me down until we were nose-to-nose.

"See?" she breathed. "Honesty is always the best policy."

*Shakespeare's Sonnet 130

**Quote by Albert Einstein