Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

Author's Note: My rather spontaneous first story. A 'How They Got Together' because honestly it's the biggest GSR mystery,you just can't not write about it.

The red numbers flickered and changed. Sara turned and stared up at the ceiling. Exactly six hours ago, the man who had held her battered and bruised heart captive for the last five years kissed her.

It was bound to happen, really. At some point during the few weeks after Nick's rescue their downward plunging relationship had hit the breaks, grown a pair of wings and flown straight to cloud nine. Expressionless stares had turned to flirty grins, faint "hmms" and "check it out with Greg's had turned into actual replies. To some extent it was kind of bizarre, almost dreamlike.

She turned again and stuck her head under her pillow, if this was a dream; she had no intention of waking up.

After a few minutes Sara had reached the conclusion that her mind's eye was a stubborn brat who enjoyed playing slideshows of Him. In one quick motion she pulled back her covers and jumped out of bed. Pulling on a pair of socks she trudged to the kitchen.

The short walk gave Sara enough time to realize there was absolutely nothing for her to do. Going to work was not an option what with the risk of Him being there. Cleaning was useless for her apartment was spotless; the result of doors which never opened for visitors and of course, the countless days she spent awake trying not to think about what would have happened if Hodges never made that call.

Her weary feet lead her to the couch, perhaps TV would help her wind down. Distorted shadows moved across the walls as Sara flicked through the channels. The weather, football, that crappy Adam Sandler movie. Her finger stropped clicking when she reached the Discovery channel; they were having a special on the Madagascar Hissing cockroach.

He must be watching this.

She quickly turned the television off and slammed the remote down next to her. Maybe TV was not the best idea after all.

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It took ten more minutes of Him related thought for Sara to find herself walking down the street to the nearest Starbucks.

It was a pleasant day; she waved to the neighbor boy with the Dalmatian. Maybe she could get a dog or even a cat. No she would probably kill it; the closest thing she had ever had to pet were the ducks in the park.

Her pager vibrated; "all hands on deck" stared her in the face. Today was not turning out to be a good day.

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Hours of swabbing, printing and clicking later Sara collapsed on the couch in the break room, forensics magazine in one hand, coffee in the other. She had been lucky, Catherine had filled her in on the case and He had accompanied the only surviving victim to the hospital so her shift had been "umm this is awkward" free so far.

She was half way through an article discussing the pros and cons of the latest printing technique, when she heard Him.

It took Sara a millisecond to figure out where he was: the trace lab, judging from the tone of his voice and the sound of Hodges's inane jokes. If she left in the next ten seconds she could avoid meeting him in the hall. She gave her coffee a mournful look: a girl on the run could not risk leaving a trail of coffee behind her.

She stalked out of the room forensics magazine in hand.

'Hey Sara!'

Damn that boy!

'Sara you forgot your coffee!' Greg yelled.

Sara stopped turning her head to see if He had heard them. He had.

'Yeah uhh Greg you can have it I've got to go'

She heard some muttered reply of something about perfectly good coffee in return. She turned her head again, He was coming this way. He muttered "excuse me"s and she lengthened her strides.

Once she turned the corner she broke into a sprint, skidding to stop in the locker room and closed the door. There was no way He could figure out which room she went into, not when she was moving that fast.

She slid down the wall and threw her magazine to the floor in frustration. Was there no way she could avoid him?

When her pager vibrated she threw across the room. It was only after it started letting out ear piercing beeps did she get up and retrieve it.

A 911 from Him. There was no way in hell that she could ignore that.

She gave herself a couple of minutes to compose herself before opening the door. The hall was relatively empty; feeling more confident she straightened her back and walked out.

The two minutes it took to reach his office were the shortest of her life. Taking a deep breath she rapped twice on the hard oak. Hearing no response she knocked again, but harder.

Nick's voice came from behind her. 'If you're looking for Grissom, he just left a minute ago with Brass; they found their suspect lying drunk in some alley.'

'Thanks Nicky' she replied.

She heaved a sigh of relief; another crisis averted.

'Sara?'

She turned. 'Yeah Nick?'

'Are you alright?'

'I'm fine'

'Well darling you know you can always talk to me.'

'I know, thank you Nicky.'

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Three cups of coffee and a sugar high later, Sara had come to a conclusion: this not go on. Her decision might have been caffeine induced but she was pretty sure she would reached some how the other. She, Sara Sidle was going to stand up to Gi- Him.

Now the question was: what the hell would she say to him?

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It was five hours after the end of shift and Sara had taken refuge in the locker room. She had wrapped up her case and now she and he were the only ones from nightshift, though technically she had clocked out an hour ago.

Turns out her grand plan was mostly caffeine influenced, well the "grand" part of it at least. Rather than cornering in his office and giving him a piece of her mind as she had planned, she decided that perhaps a more subdued conversation in the locker room would be more successful.

After much pacing and thinking of what she was going to say, Sara sat down on the bench. Resting her elbows on her knees, she massaged her temples with her fingers and closed her eyes.

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'Sara?'

Sara jolted awake, nearly falling off the bench in the process.

'What are you still doing here? The log said you clocked out two hours ago.'

Damn it! It was Him.

'I … um actually I was…'.Everything she had planned to say had disappeared; she could feel "Blabber-mouth Sara" taking over. Double damn it!

She took a deep breath and stood; she might as well throw all down on the table.

'I want… I want to talk about this,' she said, gesturing between them 'us.'

'Okay' he said, sitting down on the bench.

This was odd. She sat down too, wiping her hands on her jeans more out of nervousness than necessity.

'I can't do this again.'

'Honey, what is this?

'That! Calling me honey and holding my hand and pushing me away. Like I'm a yo-yo that you can just throw around. It's like an emotional roller coaster, one-step forward two steps back. I can't handle the looks or the honeys because I can't help thinking about when you're going to pull back and leave me dangling. Not to mention the kiss, I just can't-

'Sara!', he grab her flailing hands. His were warm and his soft fingers intertwined themselves with hers, 'Will let me take you out on a date?'

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Sara shuffled closer to the warm body beside her, turning her head to look at the clock on her dresser.

Six hours ago Gil Grissom asked her out on a date and she said yes.

Finished

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