A/N: Thank you to everyone who continues to read our story! And those of you who review, know how much we appreciate hearing from you!

Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2

Chapter 23

The letter, with its bright blue globe embossed within the letterhead, had been on the table for a week. A dozen times, Gil Grissom had picked it up; he was fairly certain, Sara had not touched it since the day it arrived.

He knew she'd read it; he had watched as she lowered her eyes, bit her bottom lip, and kept her index finger and thumb on the letter's creases. And she had given the impression of being excited but as the days passed, he felt her enthusiasm fade.

Deciding it was time for a decision—for him to make a decision—he had prepared breakfast.

Potatoes, eggs, milk and a handful of herbs were baking in the oven, walnut muffins waited in the warming pan, and, using a cookbook, he had mixed raspberries, figs, and goat cheese together for something cold. As he placed dishes on the table, he realized he was using his mother's china plates.

He didn't know Sara had put them in the cabinet.

A few minutes later, he heard the front door open and then Sara's voice.

"I'm home and what do I smell?"

With a basket of muffins in one hand and the pan of potatoes and eggs in the other, Grissom stepped from the kitchen. "You're home and on time! Breakfast is ready."

As they ate, sitting across from one another, Sara talked about her night's work. Tucking into another huge scoop of eggs and potatoes, she said, "This is good—delicious." After two bites, she placed her fork on her plate and reached to the end of the table where Grissom had stacked a bundle of mail, including the letter.

Bringing the letter between them, she said, "Have you accepted?" Her dark eyes met Grissom's.

She held steady as he realized he couldn't read her thoughts. Casting his eyes downward, he shook his head. "We haven't talked about it."

Sara fluttered the letter as she held it toward him. "Gil, you need to call. Tell them you'll be there! How many get an opportunity like this?"

Circling the Pacific Ocean on a research ship was best described as an opportunity of a life time.

"It would be for three months." He shook his head. "I—I—I'm not sure."

A soft laugh. "Take it. I know you want to do it. I'll stay busy—we'll talk, face time. Maybe I can fly out and meet you." She lifted the letter so it was between their faces. "This stuff is saving the world, you know."

At her words, Grissom raised his eyes to hers and smiled before chuckling. Sara would bring in saving the world.

Her smile was sincere; her words truthful. She had known her husband for too long—years before they had married, she had watched.

And Sara Sidle had always known this moment would come. From the first time they had shared a bed, from the first time she'd woken with him by her side. She had wished for his child, hoped they would have more time. She had no doubt that Gil Grissom loved her and, in what people referred to as her 'heart', she knew he would return. Love, she thought, would bring him home. Yet, if love was enough—she thought of all the times she'd seen love lead to horrible events. She hoped he would return.

The night before he left, Sara did not go into work. She had been quiet about her husband's plans; she'd tell them soon.

Before the sun set, they had walked, strolled through the shaded streets of their neighborhood. Some of the streets made broad curves while a few ran in straight lines.

"Did you know the straight streets were like a compass?" Sara said.

Softly, Grissom laughed. "I never knew that—how did you?"

"Greg told me. Originally, our neighborhood was designed to have a round-about where the four-way stop is but the developer changed it so the corner lots would be larger."

"True north and south?"

Sara nodded, adding, "And east and west."

The sun gave long shadows across lawns and a few blooming plants scented the air as they walked. In darkness they returned to their house holding hands, steps slowing as they came to the front door.

"You'll be safe."

Spoken as a statement, Sara's up note made it a question. Grissom held the door for her to enter before answering.

He said, "I'll be safe—I want you to promise me…"

She kissed him, breaking off what he was going to say. "I'll be here," she whispered.

"I'd feel better about all of this if you were going with me." After this, he crushed his mouth against hers, broke away, saying, "I'll miss you every day." Another kiss, this one deep and intimate, as his arms held her in a warm embrace. His mouth moved to the softness of her cheek.

"My dear Sara," he whispered. "Its—words have always been difficult for me when it comes to you."

He covered her mouth again continuing to kiss her and managed to close the door with his foot.

From the place near the front of the house, the two performed a nimble and smooth waltz through the living room to their bedroom. It would not win a dance contest, but both knew where they were heading.

Gently, Grissom eased his wife to the wide bed and with quick fingers, he removed her shirt and pushed her jeans to her ankles. She managed to kick them off. His mouth wandered to her breast, catching the delicate nipple between his lips, and closing his mouth over it.

Sara gasped and arched, grabbing his shirt and tugging it open, neither surprised when buttons went flying across the bed before the shirt followed. Her hands slipped into his hair as he nibbled at her breast, using his teeth and tongue with tormenting gentleness. One hand flattened against her belly; his index finger circled her naval. His fingers slid lower.

In a few minutes, intimate sounds of gasps, love words, and gentle laughter filled the air around them. Soothing strokes, gentle caresses, kisses that became more aggressive, ignited an urgency between them. A tantalizing fingertip brushed across her feminine folds, stroked, circling delicately, until Sara pushed her body up at the same moment she took his very erect penis and placed it where she wanted it.

When Grissom made a surprised groan, she whispered, "It wasn't doing anything for me waving between your legs."

In moments, he settled into a sweet rhythm until soft groans and gentle shudders brought her to a breath-taking orgasm. He did not hold back and seconds later, his own climax slammed through his body.

They stayed awake most of the night, discussing, searching and looking at places listed on his itinerary, following the planned route of the ship. Places neither had ever heard of before—Attu Station, the Sea of Okhotsk, several areas in Japan that had been hit by the earthquake and tsunami in 2011, and then Tokyo—possibly a place to meet, they decided.

Before he was ready, before they could bring their conversation back to meaningful words, before he could express all of his thoughts to the woman he loved dearly, it was time to leave for his flight. They did not speak of days and nights to come when thousands of miles would separate them.

As she drove to the airport, Sara asked mundane questions. "Do you have enough socks?" "Call when you arrive?" and his answers were just as routine.

When the airplane lifted off, Grissom looked out the window, looking down at the broad street running parallel to the runway. There, on the verge, he could see a car stopped; a Prius. And there he saw Sara standing in front of the car, her hand over her eyes as she watched the plane climb into the cloudless sky.

A/N: Again, thanks for reading. We appreciate hearing from you! More coming soon-what do you think of our take on how the bug loving Grissom ended up on a boat?