She sat there, trying to focus on the evidence in front of her down the microscope. She was still staring at the fibre trying to work out why it wasn't quite clear. She finally registered that Grissom had been the last person to use it and had therefore altered the focus for it. Stifling a yawn she started altering it so that she could also see through it. Now on auto-pilot for a few moments her mind wandered to the rest of the day so far.

She hadn't expected the information to arrive that by the time she woke up, but hadn't been able to stop herself glancing at the back of her door when she woke up, and checking under the mat to make sure it hadn't fallen underneath it. She had then been distracted all morning thinking about, asking herself the same pointless questions, and not getting any further with her answers each time. 'Can I do this? Why do I want to do this? Can I do it financially? Can I do it physically? Can I do emotionally? What would everyone think? What would Grissom think?'

After getting the microscope back into focus she started making notes about the fibre in front of her with one hand, while occasionally altering the magnification with the other. Noting the trace on it, and extracting samples, some for Greg and some for Hodges. She was focused on her work, partly because she always gave her whole attention to the job and partly because it stopped her asking herself pointless questions. She was so focused on her work however that she didn't notice Grissom stood in the doorway watching her.

'God, she's so beautiful, and she doesn't even know how beautiful she is.' Grissom mentally shook himself, he shouldn't be thinking things like that, but he didn't move from his position, leaning against the doorframe, watching her while she didn't know, like he always did. Whenever she was processing a scene, whenever she was talking with the others in the break room, or times like now. He only watched her when he knew she wouldn't see him. He knew that she liked him, but he still didn't know why. He though himself geeky, awkward, lacking in social skills, unable to display the affection he felt for everyone, he also hated his bandy legs and the stomach which was slowly growing as he aged, still not too large but enough for him to notice it and add it to the list of why he was so shocked that she liked him.

Whereas her, she had no idea how beautiful she was, she thought that her height made her gangly, that her hair was always greasy and unexciting, that her eyes were boring as they were only brown, that she had no breasts and that her legs were too long making her look out of proportion. He thought she was beautiful, that her height only made her more beautiful as it showed off how slender she was, that her hair was glorious and a perfect compliment to the colour of her skin, that her eyes were beautiful brown orbs as deep as the sea, which he could become lost in for hours. He didn't care that she thought she had no breasts, her figure still seemed perfect to him, and that her long legs were something to long for rather than regret, that they made her seem perfectly proportioned.

He didn't realise either that she saw things in him which we would never have spotted. She thought that his brown hair slowly turning grey, was beautiful, that the curls in it were gorgeous, the kind of curls that she could spend all day wrapping her finger around and that the grey in his hair made him look distinguished and only added to his attractiveness. She loved the fact that he was geek, that he was so similar to her in that respect, that his awkwardness was adorable, that his unwillingness to display affection in public while annoying was just a sign of shyness, which she was sure would disappear when in private, that his legs were fine, and that the stomach which he was trying harder to cover up was virtually non-existent, but mostly the way that he could seem to read her mind, he knew that she was thinking, and how he could be trusted with anything. She just didn't understand why he couldn't see it in himself.

And neither of them knew, or could understand, how the other could be interested in them, and that they were unaware that almost everyone of the opposite sex would watch them if they walked pass, and that half of them would sigh at the fact that they didn't have a chance with them.

Grissom was still stood watching her, drinking in every detail, memorising them, watching how her hair appeared different shades in the different shades of light filtering into the room. Wondering if there was anyway in which she could be his. He knew that he had had many chances to go out with her, many chances to kiss her even outside of work. But he had been reluctant at first and then by the time he had worked himself up to taking the next opportunity, she had asked, and he had had to decline due to the impending operation on his ear. He wanted to explain but was reluctant to. It had only been about a month since then and he had tried to broach the subject a few times but each time she had either altered the topic, had simply not replied, or told him it was OK that she understood before turning away and quickly changing th subject with a sad look in her eyes.

He considered another go, but even without seeing her face, he knew she was tired, the way that her feet were angled downwards not straight ahead as they rested on the stool and the subtle change in her posture mainly in her back. He no longer even found it odd that he could tell her mood from so small a features. He decided that he wouldn't push it while she was tired, he didn't want to upset her.

Finally her head raised up from the microscope, glanced at her notes and then she stood up and started turning towards the doorway.

Grissom inwardly sighed that he could not watch her for any longer headed into the room as though he had only just arrived. Asking if she had found anything.

"A few things" she admitted "but I need to get these to Greg and Hodges to know what I have found and how big it is in the case."

"OK."

Both stood there not knowing what to say to break the silence. After a few minutes Sara muttered something about getting the samples to Greg and Hodges and hurried out of the door. Grissom turned around and watched her leave over his shoulder, sighing that he still had not had the courage to do anything. Mentally beating himself up about his lack of action he wandered in the direction of the break room, where coffee sounded good before going to go process the clothes from the vic.