A/N: Okay so I was a little nervous about this chapter. First time I've written any seriously fluff in a long time so I hope it worked out alright. Just don't hate me for what happens after it, I promise what you want is coming very, very soon. Thank you to mingsmommy for the great beta as usual and to cropper for telling me I don't suck. Enjoy and please leave me your thoughts :)

Chapter 24

" . . . I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent for ever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it." ***

With a slight sigh, Grissom stopped and placed the book on the blanket with a light frown. This passage, as he finished reading it, felt so oddly familiar and he found himself deep in thought.

"Hey…"

The familiar, tender voice broke him from his trance and as her hand found its way to his cheek, his head turned to see Sara seated on the blanket by his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked, delicately brushing her thumb over his flesh. No doubt there was a little concern in her question. "You seemed to drift off a little there."

"Yes," he began, "I'm fine, sorry. I can just get lost in my reading sometimes."

"I noticed," she snorted lightly.

And there they sat for a lengthy moment, just looking at each other until, eventually, Sara cleared her throat and removed her hand from his face.

"Have you, um," she stuttered, "had enough to eat?" She looked to the food laid out on the blanket; it had been a feast and still plenty remained.

An extensive smile appeared on his face. "I have had ample, thank you. Rana always seems to go a little over board. I am presuming she still thinks I'm a growing boy."

"And you're not?" Sara chortled.

The look he gave her was priceless and she grinned. "This is nice," she admitted. "It isn't very often I get to do something like this. Well, at least something this peaceful and for this long."

"No?"

"Oh, no." She picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled on it. "If we ever have a picnic, it's usually a very formal affair and I'm bored after the first ten minutes. Either that or my father is trying to line me up with a suitor. We've been here for what, maybe three hours?" She looked up to the sky to see the sun was beginning to descend. "Three hours and no dinner dates forced upon me."

Chuckling, Grissom topped off their wine glasses with the second bottle of red wine Rana had thoughtfully placed in their basket. "So, you haven't found your prefect man yet then?" He handed her the glass.

"I wouldn't say that." Pouting her lips she took the glass, her words causing Grissom to almost drop his.

It was obvious she was smiling when she sipped from the vessel and the rancher took a heavy gulp of wine, in one, swift motion.

"Why do you look so worried all of a sudden?" Sara asked, fighting her amusement at his obvious, unnecessary unease.

"I…um…I'm not…I…"

She laughed and picked up the book with a slight hiccup. "Why don't you read some more?" She asked the question moving a little closer, possibly slightly tipsy. They were shoulder to shoulder now. "I like it when you read to me."

Nodding quickly, he took the book. As he began reading, he felt Sara's head come to rest on his shoulder and struggled to keep his eyes focused on the words before him.

Now, he was having an inner battle with himself. He tried to read; he really, really did but she was so close. The scent of her was delightful, but it was when her light breath tickled his skin that he felt himself becoming undone and placed the book on his lap.

Tilting his head, he noted her eyes were closed. They were provokingly intimate now, their noses almost touching and their lips mere inches apart. She was so beautiful. Then, as her eyes fluttered open, he was lost. Whether it was the alcohol or just the fact that they were almost touching, he was totally adrift within her soft brown eyes.

His inner self was saying "no" but as her lips parted just a tiny fraction, causing her breath to hit his face, he could no longer hold back his burning urge. Dipping his head forward the small space that separated them, he softly passed his lips over hers. It wasn't really a kiss, more of a brush of skin over skin but he had to be sure this was what she wanted.

As his forehead fell onto hers and she smiled, his question was answered and that's all he needed. Devoid of further hesitation he parted his lips, softly smothering them over hers, delicately, but with enough intensity to earn a gasp of delight from the young lady in his grasp. She closed her eyes, her fingers gripping tightly onto his arm as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

When she smiled against him, he slipped his tongue over her bottom lip but suddenly, she tensed and tried to pull back. The sensation was obviously one she had never experienced before, but as he lightly brushed his fingers over her neck in reassurance, she relaxed into him and allowed his exploration.

Slowly but with a purpose, his tongue now found its way into her mouth and she moaned deeply. A feeling of major intensity was stirring within Grissom, a feeling which had not passed through his body for a long, long time. She tasted wonderful, like strawberries and deep red wine. It was a flavor he would not easily forget and found himself consumed.

But, as a gunshot boomed through the air, the couple's lips parted with a startled swiftness.

Licking her lips Sara smiled bashfully. "Father must be practicing his shooting," she presumed. "He does that now and again."

Grissom wasn't smiling. In fact, the gunshot was like a heavy slap of reality hitting him forcefully in the face and he stared at her with a blank and slightly fearful expression. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't kiss Sara; he had no right to do that.

Seeing the severe look on his face, her smile faded. "Grissom?" she began, unsure. "Are you alright?"

His mouth opened but nothing fell from his lips. Standing hastily he looked down at her and she stared at him with her own uncertain glance now. "We…" He fought for the right thing to say, "…we should go. It's getting late and I have to meet Jim." He swallowed hard and bent down, starting to pack up the picnic, avoiding her eyes at all costs and ignoring the pain from his strapped torso. "I should get you home," he finished as he continued to place items in the basket.

At a snails pace Sara stood, stepping off the blanket but never taking her eyes from him. "Did," she hesitated now, "did I do something wrong?"

Sighing, he ignored the question and pulled the blanket from the ground.

"Grissom?" Her voice shook. "Please look at me."

Reluctantly, he did as requested. "It isn't you Sara," he admitted. "It's just…I…I shouldn't have…we should go, please…"

Dejectedly looking to the ground, she simply nodded and he felt his heart tighten. There was nothing he could do though as he fought with his inner guilt. He simply should not have kissed her, no matter how much he wanted too. The two of them together was simply impossible.

With hurried hands, he packed everything up as Sara looked off into the surrounding trees.

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The walk back to the house seemed hurried and uncomfortable. The couple didn't say another word to each other until they reached the steps to the main door.

Sara leaned forward and took the basket from him. "I'll give this back to Rana," she all but whispered, still failing to look at him. "I'm glad to see you are…recovering." With that she turned and walked into the house without a single look back.

A frustrated huff echoed from Grissom's lips as she disappeared inside. He desired her so much and simply hated himself for turning her away, but deep down he knew it was the best thing to do, especially for her. With his shoulders slumping heavily, he turned on his heels and walked away.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Spinning back around, Grissom came face to face with Ecklie as he stepped out from the shadows. He frowned deeply.

"What do you want, Conrad?"

"You playing with Sara, too, huh?" the younger man insinuated. "Going to ruin her life, as well?"

Shaking his head, Grissom turned away.

"Don't, you dare walk away from me!" Ecklie snapped.

Stopping, the rancher faced his accuser, stepping right up to him.

"This has nothing to do with you, Conrad," Grissom just about spat in his face.

"Oh, you think?" He retaliated. "After what you did, you just think I'm going to sit idly by and let you destroy another life like you did before? Do you?"

"You are never going to let it go are you?" The older man sighed, stepping back.

"You are right about that," Ecklie growled, clenching his fists. "I saw you with Sara. I can see the way you are leading her on. Do you have no sense of respect for who she is and who you are?"

Grissom held up a finger, fighting his urge to become aggressive. "I'm warning you, Conrad, just back off. You have no idea what sense of anything I posses or how I feel."

With his nostrils flaring the younger man squared right up to his superior. "I know exactly what you are and if you weren't already battered," he looked Grissom up and down, "I'd…I'd…"

"You would what, Conrad?" The rancher took a light step back. He wasn't afraid of his subordinate but wanted to avoid losing his temper.

"I would smack you right in the mouth for starters. We still have much to settle." He pushed a firm finger into Grissom's chest. "I will not be happy until I get my pound of flesh, never forget that."

Feebly nodding, Grissom took several more steps backwards. "Then, I await the time when you feel you should take it," he sighed. "Until then, stay out of my business and matters that do not concern you." He didn't allow Ecklie a response and turned away but the younger man called after him.

"Our time will come, Grissom!"

With a shake of his head Grissom quickened his stride and rushed back to his lodgings.

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Stomping into the kitchen, Sara found Rana peeling potatoes for dinner.

"Good evening, Miss Sara," the older woman supplied with a healthy smile.

Placing the basket on the table, Sara offered a weak smile in return.

Rana frowned. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Sara replied quickly. "Thank you for the lovely picnic."

"A pleasure," she smiled once more.

With a thankful nod, Sara quit the room. She wasn't in the mood to chat; she hurried from the kitchen and out onto the veranda where she leaned over the rail and watched the sun descend on the horizon. She couldn't get Grissom out of her mind. Why did he react the way he did? He was the one who instigated the kiss; it wasn't like she forced it upon him. She was so frustrated, she felt like screaming.

"Agh!" she shrieked, almost jumping out of her skin when she felt a pressure on her shoulder. With momentum, she whirled around to come face to face with Gregory, holding up his hands defensively.

"Hey, cousin, sorry, it's only me," he announced with a grin.

"You idiot," she growled, slapping him on the chest. "You scared me half to death." She pushed past him and slumped down on one of the wicker chairs.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned now, cautiously taking a seat next to her.

"I'm fine," she grumbled in response.

"Well, you don't sound fine and if you don't mind me saying so," he looked her over, "you don't look particularly happy either."

She smiled feebly but ignored Gregory's inquisitiveness.

"So, you didn't enjoy you day with the boss, then?" he dared to ask.

Giving him the look of death, the heiress to the estate folded her arms.

"That bad, huh?" the young man presumed.

As Sara thought back to how nice some of the day actually was, she smiled inside. Too bad it ended the way it did. "I don't want to talk about it, alright?"

"Did he upset you?" He asked, his body seeming to stiffen as he leaned forward towards her.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Sara enjoyed the evening breeze that whispered over the veranda. For the first time that week the muggy humidity that usually saturated the estate when the sun went down was nowhere to be experienced and the atmosphere was pleasant. She looked to her cousin. "I'm fine Gregory, so please, just, leave it alone."

Frowning at her, he sighed, "Are you sure?"

She nodded hastily. "I'm sure," she replied smiling softly before taking his hand, "I appreciate your concern but really, I'm alright." Standing, she gave a light stretch. "I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"What?" he sounded surprised, "But it's still so early. What about dinner?"

"I'm not," she shrugged her shoulders, "all that hungry."

Now, Gregory looked concerned again and Sara emitted a light snort placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine." Leaning in, she kissed him lightly on the cheek, "Goodnight, cousin."

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En route for the stairs, Sara abruptly stopped upon hearing Rana calling her from behind. Turning around the head housekeeper approached and held something out to her.

"I found this in the basket, Miss Sara. I thought you might want it back." The older woman held up Grissom's book.

"Ah, yes." Sara reached out and took the book with a sad smile. "Thank you, Rana, I will make sure," she hesitated, "at some point, it gets back to where it belongs."

"Yes, Miss Sara." The older woman bowed her head before returning to her duties, leaving Sara staring at the book.

With a light shake of her head Sara tucked the book under her arm and headed for her room. Right now, all she wanted was to be alone.

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By the time Grissom reached his accommodation, Brass was already waiting for him. His horse was tied to the porch rail and he leaned next to the animal.

"Evening," he declared upon seeing Grissom approach.

"Jim," the rancher replied with a slender nod.

The sheriff looked his friend over as he stepped towards him. "Had a relaxing day?" he asked slipping his thumbs into his belt. "You look a little better than you did earlier."

"Yeah," Grissom admitted, "for the most part anyway."

"Oh?" The older man frowned. "Did it end on a sour note?"

Shaking his head, the rancher looked up to the sky as it commenced upon fading to black. He always did like night time; the dark. "I don't want to talk about it." He tipped his head down so his eyes met the sheriff's once more.

Brass smiled. "I think you need a little cheering up," he remarked with a jolly tone and walked to his horse. He rummaged in his saddle pouch, pulled out a bottle of bourbon and held it up, "Drink?"

No hesitation even crossed Grissom's mind with his response. "I'll get some glasses."

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Grissom knew Brass wouldn't let lie what happened to him so, after several glasses of fine southern malt out on the porch, he told the sheriff about his attack the previous evening and his suspicions about Colonel McKeen.

After listening to his friend's story, the lawman rubbed his chin hard in contemplation. "Well," he began, leaning forward in his chair, "it certainly sounds like you have made more enemies than friends in the few days you have been back."

"Do you think?" the younger man responded sarcastically.

"Alas," the sheriff began before standing and leaning against the rail, "with no evidence to back up your suspicions there isn't a lot I can do."

Nodding knowingly, the rancher shrugged his shoulders, sighed, pushed himself from his chair with glass in hand and walked down the porch steps. "Why does that not surprise me?" He called back as he headed to the water pump.

Before he even reached the appliance the sheriff was already at his heels. Grabbing the younger man's arm he spun him around to face him.

"You didn't let me finish, Gil," the lawman snapped.

Looking down to the sheriff's hand gripping firmly onto his arm, he frowned deeply before flicking his eyes to his friend's. Brass got the message immediately and released his grip with a frustrated sigh.

"I didn't realize you had anymore to say, Jim." Pumping some water into his glass, he drank quickly. "This is one of the reasons I felt it pointless telling anyone what happened, nothing can be done to catch the culprits."

"Yes, it can!" Brass barked angrily now.

Stepping back in surprise, the rancher carefully watched as his friend obviously fought to control his frustration.

The sheriff quickly calmed himself, working his jaw from left to right. "Look," he started, "just let me make some inquiries. I will see what I can find out."

Again, Grissom shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you want, Jim." But the way he spoke, it was as if he was telling the sheriff he was wasting his time. Grissom knew more than likely nothing would come of his investigation.

"I'm trying here, alright?" Brass's frustration grew again. "If you had come straight to me after this happened, I would have more chance of finding something." He stepped right up to Grissom, looking him straight in the eye. "I know there is a lot happening here right now, but you need to stop being so stubborn." He prodded the older man in the chest, "And start talking to me. Do we understand each other?"

On a conceding sigh, Grissom nodded, "Fine."

"Good," the sheriff seemed satisfied. "But…"

The rancher's eyes narrowed. "But?"

"I suggest you keep your head down for a few days. Don't entice anymore trouble." The older man folded his arms and took a light step back. "Let me try and discover who and why someone seems intent on getting rid of you."

Rubbing his chin, Grissom thought for a moment. "Well, I need to go back to my place to collect some belongings; I guess that would count as keeping my head down." He was also thinking this was the ideal opportunity to get his head straight in regards to Sara. Being around her was just driving him crazy.

Brass grinned. "I guess it would and it would give you the opportunity to recover."

"Alight," the rancher agreed. "I will check with the captain. As long as he is fine with it, I will leave you to your digging and be back in a few days." He held out his hand, "Deal?"

"Deal," the older man replied, firmly shaking his friend's hand.

*** Passage taken from: A Tales of Two Cities by Charles Dickens