They sat on the couch together. The documentary playing out through the speakers. Grissom sat forward, his legs resting on the coffee table in front of him. Sara's legs were stretched out across Grissom's lap, her head gently laid against the space between his shoulder and chest, a glass of red wine held in her hand. The sound of his heartbeat in his ear is all she ever really needed to relax. She felt him kiss the top of her head. Something he'd done at least five times since they sat down to watch the movie. She looked up at him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

"How are you feeling?"

It was a simple question, for most. But to come from Grissom's lips was truly something she cherished. The Grissom of even just a year ago would have never thought to ask that simple question—or, if he had, would have not been able to find the right words to express it.

"Better now." She breathed and was reward with a small smile from Grissom. "Im going to hop in the shower." She stood and shot him an unmistakable look as she went to walk away.

"I'll be in in a minute." He began just as his phone rang. He looked at his watch realizing they'd only been back from about three hours, how could they possibly call him back in?

Grissom phished his phone out of his pocket to look at the caller ID. It was a number he didn't recognize. A 415 number. He heard the shower water turn on down the hall.

"Grissom."

"Hi Dr. Grissom. It's Dave Crow."

"Oh, Mr. Crow." Grissom furrowed brows and looked toward the bedroom, but Sara had already disappeared.

"How are you?"

"I'm Fine." He began, "I'd ask how you are, but I'm sure you're not calling just to exchange polite pleasantries."

"You're right. How's Sara?"

"You heard about the incident today?"

"What incident?"

"Oh... it was nothing. She um—" Grissom wasn't sure how to recover from that so just spit it out, "She was with a victim in her last breaths. I thought maybe that's why you were calling."

"No. But I'm glad to her she's okay."

"So what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Look, Grissom. Sara's an adult, and I really have no business medaling around in her life." Dave paused for a moment, "But it's come to my attention that perhaps you are more than just a boss to her... perhaps you share a more intimate relationship."

"Crow, I don't know—"

"I get it. You're on the same team. You're her supervisor, you're keeping it hush. I'm not here to ruin that."

Grissom suddenly felt very hot and uncomfortable.

"How did you—"

"She can't lie to me. She can try, but it's never really worked."

"Oh." Grissom was speechless, and a simple, one syllable response was all he could muster.

"She let me know that I'm no longer hold her power of attorney for medical decisions."

"When did she—"

"Today. Probably after that incident... I need to know that she's okay. We don't talk as much as we used to. I know we're both busy and it happens, but now that she has someone in her life, someone she can go to with the thing we used to talk about..." Grissom heard as Crow took a breath, "It's hard not being able to keep an eye on her."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

Grissom thought for a moment about the way to phrase this. "You seem to care a great deal for Sara, about her well-being."

"I know what you want to know. You want to know why I'm so invested? I was only a supervisor to her. Right?"

"Well, yes."

"Aren't you just a supervisor to her?"

"Are you suggesting that you and Sara had a relationship?" Grissom's mouth went dry.

"No. No" Crow quickly responded and then sighed, "I—I was a CSI level two when her father died..." His voice trailed off uncomfortably.

"You investigated the murder?" Grissom's voice conveyed his sheer disbelief in the scenario.

"Yes." He admitted. Suddenly everything became a bit more clear to him. He smiled, realizing what a gift it was for Sara to have someone as dedicated as Crow in her life.

"She's doing very well." The warmth and change in his voice was evident. "She incredibly talented, as you're well aware of. And she's found ways to harness that emotion and passion to use it as an asset on cases, rather than a flaw."

"Is she happy?"

"I believe so." He answered honestly and could hear Crow sigh on the other end of the line.

"Take care of her, Okay? Make sure she's happy... she deserves something good in her life."

"I promise." Grissom answered. He could count on one hand how many times he'd promised someone something in his life. It was something he didn't take to lightly as he would go through painstaking lengths to ensure its feasibility. This however, was a promise he need not convince himself of, he was committed to it, to her.

Grissom didn't mention the call to Sara. He knew she'd feel embarrassed, or perhaps betrayed by Crow. But he laid in bed that night thinking about the call. About what he had learned. About the true relationship Sara and Crow shared. He was unnerved by the idea that he didn't know such a big part of her life, of who she was. He battled with the idea for a while as Sara's soft sleeping breaths filled the quiet air. Then he came to a pause, realizing he had the rest of their lives to learn the things he didn't already know about her. The idea of which ignited a smile to form on his lips.

Sara stirred away to find herself along in bed. The empty side where Grissom should be was cold, He had been gone a while. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus them through the tired haze. Jingling. She heard jingling and... trotting. She looked toward the door as she heard it creak open. Grissom appeared there and stood in the doorway. Suddenly a brown and black object leaped toward her and pounced on top of her. Licking her face.

Sara let out a deep laugh. "Gil!"

He stood there in the doorway, arms folded, wearing a big grin. The dog continued to lick at her face and wag its tail.

"You remember Hank?"

"Your old neighbor's dog!?" The dog laid down, its tail continued to wag. "Boy, Hank! You got big!"

"Last time you saw him he was probably only a few months old."

"What are you doing with him?"

"Peter volunteered for another tour. He'll be stationed in the middle east for a while."

"How long?"

"Two or three years probably."

"Oh, wow." Sara continued to scratch behind Hank's hears. He rolled over, stretching and exposing his belly, his tail wagging. "Where's this guy gonna go?"

"Here." Sara looked up with furrowed brows. "That is, if you're okay with that."

Sara smiled widely, "That's just fine." She spoke not taking her eyes off Hank and his sweet disposition. Grissom moved to the bed and sat down next to them, rubbing Hank's belly. He looked over at Sara and watched as she glowed with happiness.

"I have off tonight to make up for calling me on on our night off."

She nodded, "Yeah I saw the schedule. I'm rescheduled for Thursday." She shrugged, "I guess now I'll have some company."

Sara walked in the front door and was immediately greeted by a wagging Hank.

"Hey buddy!" She knelt down to greet the mutt, she could get used to this.

She walked down the call to Grissom's home office, finding him sitting there at his desk, hunched over with a magnifying glass.

"Gil...What is this...?" He words drawn out and hesitant.

"It's a miniature model of my office." He spoke simply without look up.

"Why?"

"I want to get in his head."

"Well this is a pretty creepy way to do that..." He looked up to see worry etched on her face, despite her attempts to mask it.

He lifted one eyebrow, "You said this guy has a level of obsession that gives even me a run for my money? I'm up for the challenge." Hank plopped down between them and began to wimpper.

"Okay." she said hesitantly, "I'm going to go for a run with Hank. Care to join?"

"You go ahead, I want to work on this a little while longer."

April 2007

"So he went into your office, without permission. Handled key evidence in an open serial homicide case..."

"And found the common element in all four miniatures. It's bleach." Grissom put two plates of food on the table as Sara handed him a glass of wine. They sat down together.

"Okay, so you think he's a janitor or someone affiliated with a cleaning service."

"It makes sense."

She forked a few leafs of her salad, "And you think if he's one of Dell's fosters, that his abuse as a child is affiliated with bleach? Cause it to trigger his psychosis?"

"That's correct."

"I shared a room with another girl in my third or fourth foster home. She never spoke, not once. Kept to herself, didn't play with the other kids, didn't read books or watch TV. She'd just sit there. Until someone would say 'time for bed' or something like that. She'd go ballistic... I always assumed she'd been molested."

"How old was she?"

"At the time, no more than eight or nine. It's hard to remember. I think her name was Valerie or Victoria." She shrugged, "Anyway, I've seen it first hand, someone completely normal just snaps. This guy could just be blending in with crowd."

Over the next few weeks Grissom continued to build his miniature model of his office. He was becoming more and more enthralled with the case. But it was different than it had been before his sabbatical. Before, he was spent, mentally and physically exhausted. Now, he seemed up for the challenge, it was taking up a lot of his free time, but it wasn't consuming him like it had before.

Grissom and Sara drove out to a brothel where they were dispatched for a DB.

"Feels like bath water. It's gotta be 90 degrees." Sara dipped her hand into the pool beside the DB. She and Grissom were alone at the scene for now. "There's no way we're going to get an accurate T.O.D."

"Places like this always keep their pools warm. It encourages the girls to swim topples. It's good for business."

Sara shot him a questioning look.

"So they tell me..." he offered.

"mmhmm."

They continued processing the scene for the next few hours. Soon the sun came up and they weren't getting any further in their investigation. They called in Nick for backup.

"25 people here last night and nobody sees anything." Grissom now sported his straw hat as he and Sara walked away from the main building.

"Nice hat, honey." Two girls called at him as they passed by. He turned to look at them.

"So.." Sara's voice trailed off for a brief moment, "You've-uh, been to a place like this before?"

"I worked a murder-suicide at the Nauty Kitty once."

"No, no. Come on. You know what I mean."

"As a customer!? No."

"You've never paid for sex?"

"I have not. I find the whole idea very bleak."

"Really? How come?"

"Sex should provide the opportunity for human connection. But paid sex does the opposite of that. To me... sex without love is pointless. It makes you sad." He gave her intermittent glances as they walked on.

"Well... I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad..."

"No." He said simple and held her gaze for a moment longer, "You make me happy."

Her heart fluttered for a moment, realizing this was Grissom's way of saying "I love you." She felt warm all over as she softly smiled.

Nearly ten hours later the bazar case of Happy Moralas was wrapped up. Later that night she turned to him as they lay in bed. She pushed her lips to his,

"I love you too."

His blue eyes glowed he leaned in and deepened the kiss.