I am grateful for the fifteen minutes it takes to get to work. I need time to get the image of Grissom spanking me out of my head, among other things.

That was an actual first date, I think. And it went well. Conversation wasn't too deep or emotional, ground rules were set, and he kept his word. Yes, so far a very good date.

I slow to a stop at a red light. I have about three minutes until I get into work. This is probably not the time I should be pondering what it was like to kiss him, innocent though it was.

I press my fingers to my lips, remembering the feel of his scruffy jaw on my fingertips, the warmth of his surprised lips. It was chaste, really, but it happened. It was really, actually, real.

I lick my lips.

Okay. I am going to give myself two whole minutes to swoon over the reality of this, then I am putting it on a shelf and slipping into work mode.

Two minutes go quickly when I think about the way he looked at me. He wants me. He loves me, or at least thinks he does. Shivers hum up and down the length of my spine.

I pull into the parking lot. His car isn't here. No surprise. He doesn't drive as fast as I do. And he's not usually as early as me anyway.

I cut the engine, turn off the lights, and put my hand on the door handle. I don't go in, though.

I sit in my dark corner of the parking lot and stare into space. I see Bobby park and enter the building.

Okay, none of this has ever happened. The heart to heart in the Tahoe, the kiss, the Adventuredome, they never happened. It was just an unusually vivid dream.

Will telling myself that actually work? Who knows.

I pick up my purse but then I see Grissom's Tahoe enter the lot. He parks and is it my imagination, or does he take a look around as he walks inside? I'd like to think he does, but I'm not sure.

I wait until I see him disappear from view, then count to a hundred. Only then do I brave the territory of the lab.

.

As usual I go straight to the locker room and put my purse away. I always do this. I'm not a purse carrying kind of girl.

Grissom and Catherine are also in the locker room. Cath is on the phone, yelling, apparently at Lindsey.

"Hey, Grissom," I say lightly, not giving him much notice. "What's up?"

"We have two DB's in Henderson."

"Cool." I try to keep my tone somewhat terse. Catherine pays no attention to our interaction. I wonder if, when he says we, he means we as the team, or we as in he and I? I'm not sure if I want to work a case with him or not. Not tonight, anyway. It will probably make things harder.

I shut my locker and walk out of the room without looking back. See, I can do this.

Nicky and Warrick are already at the table. Greg rushes in, winded. "Sorry I'm late!"

"You have three minutes, Greggo. Relax."

"Sorry."

"I'll forgive you if you let me dip into your stash?"

"Please. Just make enough for me. I need the caffiene."

"I seriously doubt that," I say, and Greg returns my smile with one of his own.

Grissom comes through the door. His eyes glance at everyone, but then rest on me. He sees my smile, and does a barely visible double take before turning away. Did Nick and Warrick catch it? Thank god Cath isn't in the room.

I toss the old coffee filter and brew a new pot. Catherine breezes into the room. "Evening, everybody."

"Hey Cath," I say. I play it as if I'm in a good mood, but not too good a mood.

"Okay." Grissom talks, and everyone shuts up. "First of all, whoever had stuff in the sink an didn't clean it, please don't do that. Ecklie's got his shorts in a twist."

"Isn't that his baseline?" I say.

He ignores me, which I totally expected. "Second order of business, we have two DBs with lots of spatter over on eighth. Cath, Nicky, and Sara, you're on it with me. Sorry, Greg, but I'll definately need you in the lab. Warrick, I'm giving you a trick roll cum homicide." He hands the paper to Warr.

Nick copies down the address of our DBs and he and I wordlessly pair up. This is how things normally are, and right now doesn't seem like a good time to change the M.O. If more than two CSIs are at a scene it is usually prudent to take two vehicles anyway, in case someone gets called away.

"We'll meet you guys there," Nick says to Cath and Grissom, effectively keeping me from having to do anything but go with the flow.

In the car with Nicky I relax. He's in a quiet mood tonight. "You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah. Just tired."

"What's her name?" I grin. I live to bust Nick's stones. I live for it. Sometimes it's all that makes work bearable.

"No her, unfortunately. I just need a few hours of shut eye."

.

I'm perversely thankful for the sloppy goriness of the scene. I will be occupied here most of my shift.

If Cath were here I'd leave the pictures to her. She isn't, so I just get started, first with overall shots, then with tags. It takes me a good half hour to photodocument the scene.

"Hey, Sara." It's David.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Not much. Looks like they both bled out."

"Perp must have done one right after the other. You can't stab two people to death at the same time."

"It's a lot of blood. Bleeding had to be perimortem at the very least. It's hard to imagine any COD other than exsanguination."

"That's why you make the big bucks," I quip.

"I wish."

Something white darts through the corner of my visual field. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"A cat, I think." I go over to the far wall and get on all fours. "Here, puss. C'mere. It's okay."

Of course Grissom chooses that moment to walk in.

"Having fun?"

"Shh, you'll spook him. C'mere, kitty cat. See, I won't hurt you. Good kitty." I see two glowing eyes in the darkness and they are coming slowly closer. I extend my hand and wait, until I feel a cold wet nose pressing my fingers, then sliding to the side.

"Yeah, that's a good kitty." I retract my hand just a bit more, and when the kitten moves forward, I pick it up. "Whoa, that's a longhair kitty. We should name you Trace, huh?"

The kitten mews. It is old enough to be weaned, but barely. It's fucking adorable. I'll regret it because I'm wearing a black top, but I hold it to me anyway.

"Anyone have an animal carrier?"

.

David leaves, and takes the cat back with the bodies. We map out a grid and work it. Nicky and Cath work the bedrooms, and he and I are in the living room where the bodies were.

We work silently for a long time. Anyone watching us would assume that there's a great rift between us, but in actuality this is how things are when things are good.

The quiet of the room belies the violence that occurred here. "You got anything?" he asks.

"Not much. Some hairs that look like the vic's. A few fibers. Cat hair, of course."

"You found a friend."

"Cute, wasn't he?"

"I'm a dog person, myself." He stands up and stretches. "Lunch?"

"Sure. Let me just finish this square."

"I'll be in the Tahoe."

"'Kay." I smile to myself. I was hoping we'd get to have a break together tonight.

I pack up my kit, except for a roll of tape. I reseal the house and initial the sticker. I slide in beside him. He turns to smile at me and I feel it rise through me like champagne bubbles.

"Hi." He says it simply and sweetly and the tone of his voice...

"Hi."

"Are we now officially out of work mode?" he asks.

"I would say so, soon as we get away from this scene." I smile as I rip a length of tape and make it into a loop. Will he kiss me? I hope to god he kisses me. I slide my hand through the loop and press it to my shirt, systematically getting every inch.

He pulls away from the duplex and I note that he is smiling.

"You know, I knew this was going to be... difficult as is, but I must say I didn't expect to walk in on a double homicide and find you on all fours."

I laugh, and it feels like being free.

"Hey, I'm a professional. I chase evidence."

"Yes, you do," he says, bemused.

We go to a little Greek place off Freemont where the tables are greasy but the food is delicious. I realize halfway into my hummus and tabbouleh that I'm likely destroying my chances of being kissed tonight, but our conversation is easy and I feel good. Better than I have in quite a while. Besides, he is eating a gyro laden with onions.

We eat quickly and leave. "I believe we have exactly twenty minutes left of our county-sanctioned lunch break." I say. "How shall we spend it?"

"I have a few ideas," he says as he walks around to his side of the van. His tone is blatantly flirtatious and I'm delighted that I'm not the only one thinking what I'm thinking.

"I know," I say, struck with sudden inspiration. "Give me the keys."

He hands them over without hesitation and we switch sides.

The place I'm thinking of is a city-owned Park and Ride lot where casino employees catch shuttles to the various casinos. It's a huge parking lot, and no one will notice us in a Tahoe with tinted windows. I roll into a dark corner spot and cut the engine.

I suddenly don't know what to do. I stare straight ahead, blushing.

"I had fun tonight."

I glance at him. He is so adorable. "At the amusement park or the double homicide?"

"Both," he says. "But I was referring to the amusement park."

"That was an actual, honest-to-goodness date."

"And we both lived to tell about it."

"Imagine," I say, and grin.

He is leaning closer to me. Yes! I tilt my head, he tilts his, and I feel his fingertips press very gently on my jaw.

It is gentle, but powerful like a train crash. It transcends our kiss on the Ferris Wheel, which was a mere brush of lips, a glorified peck. This is...

Synergy? Catalysis? Something, some scientific concept I know but which my brain can't quite pinpoint, because our mouths are moving together, gentle and passionate and eager, and we are together in the moment. Nothing else exists.

I am kissing Grissom. Grissom is kissing me. Holy shit.

The texture of his lips is unlike mine, not rough, but not smooth either. He tastes of mint and cucumber and onion, earthy. He is damn good at this. Our mouths are open, and when he drags his bottom lip across mine, I gasp. God, it's so sexy.

His hand gingerly threads through my hair, first gentle, then tightening as our tongues meet. The sensation makes me moan and in response his fist clenches in my hair. I could take him here and now, that's how ready I am.

"Oh, god," I whisper, and pull away. I level him with a look, and I know on my face is every thought, feeling and desire in my mind, but I know pure unadulterated lust is at the forefront.

He speaks in a whisper. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to go back to work after that."

"I know."

"I don't think you have a clue how you affect me."

"Whose fault is that," I grin, teasing.

"Mine. So I'll have to fix the situation and show you," he growls, and pulls me close, rough and quick. Kissing, oh, god, there's no space or time or any of that crap. Just kissing. Eternal kissing. No boundary, lips and flesh together in a quickening cadence like breath.

Until a loud beeping rises between us.

"The hell?" I mutter.

"The alarm on my watch."

"You set your alarm?" I say, incredulous.

"How else am I supposed to neatly end our lunch break and go back to work mode?"

"I see. Does that alarm have a snooze button?"