Disclaimer: Again, I am but a poor college student who owns nothing more than what fits in my dorm. CBS and affiliates, please don't sue me.

Pairings: G/S, what else is there?

Rating: PG- 13, possibly R

Summary: This is my take on the way some of our favorite GSR moments should have gone, starting from the beginning.

A/N: This first chapter is complete fiction! I made it up… but the chapters to follow are all based around a pre-existing ep of the show. They are in chronological order, and Chapter Two starts off Season 1. Some of the lines used in those chapters are take directly from the show. I know they aren't mine so take a deep breath and read on. I know you'll enjoy this.

Chapter One- The Harvard Experience

Harvard University

September 1992

"Sara, what are we doing here?" Emily asked, "Is this lecture really necessary? I mean, why do you want to sit and listen to some strange old guy talk about bugs and dead bodies for two hours?"

Sara Sidle turned to her room mate and smiled.

"He's forensic entomologist, Em," she explained, leading the other young woman to the first row of seats, "And trust me, he's not that old."

Sara found two seats near the middle of the row, making sure she had a good view of the entire stage. Emily sat beside her, prepping her notebook for their first entomology lecture.

"Oh... my... god."

Sara smiled at Emily's gasp.

Dr. Gil Grissom had just taken his place on stage and, in doing so, stole the heart of every female student in his audience. Sara looked up and grinned. His picture in her favorite forensics magazine did him no justice. She took care to note his sharp blue eyes and chiseled jaw line, sighing happily at the slight dimple in his chin. His hair was the same shade as her, a chocolate brown, although his was flecked with gray. She noticed his nicely tanned skin which she assumed was from all the years he'd worked in Las Angeles and Las Vegas.

As Dr. Grissom began to speak, Sara fell into a trance. She watched his hands, memorizing how he used them to emphasize his words. She felt an unusual weight settle in the pit of her stomach as she watched the muscles of his broad shoulders and chest move beneath his thin, blue dress shirt. Sara licked her suddenly dry lips. God, she thought, he's beautiful.

"Sara."

The harsh, hurried tone of Emily's voice caught her off guard and Sara turned toward her.

"What?" she asked.

Emily glanced once at the stage and then returned her stare to the page of her notebook. Sara followed Emily's glance onto the stage, freezing momentarily when she noticed that Dr. Grissom had stopped speaking and was now staring right at her. She felt herself blush and she stammered slightly as she said, "I, um, I'm sorry. Did you ask me something, doctor?"

"I did, actually. Miss...?"

"Sidle. Sara Sidle."

"All right then Miss Sidle. I asked you what you are majoring in here at Harvard."

"Oh, um, physics with a minor in forensic science," she told him, "And I'll be studying both next Fall at Grad school."

"Good for you, Miss Sidle, we can always use more physicists is the small world of forensics," Dr. Grissom smiled and Sara's heart fluttered slightly in her chest.

"My next question for you, Sara, is how did you become interested in the field of physics and why did you choose forensics as your minor?"

"I guess that I chose physics because I have always been good at it. Physics is something that has helped me gain a certain perspective on the real world," she explained, "But I chose forensics because..."

"Be honest, Sara, if you can't be honest with me, you'll never make it through this course."

Sara smiled a little more broadly and continued on, "I became interested in forensics probably six years ago when my high school genetics class attended a forensic science conference at UC Berkley. Um, I actually got to hear you speak with some of your colleagues from Las Vegas. It was then, sitting in that hall listening to you and another criminalist speaking of the passion that you have for your work that I decided that I wanted to become involved in crime scene investigation. So, I guess that, if I had to tell someone what made me want to become involved in forensics, I would have to tell them that it was you."

When she finished her answer, Dr. Grissom's blue eyes were burning a whole into her. No one in the room spoke and Sara felt a sudden spark of heat pass between herself and the good doctor. She attempted to pull back slightly but it seemed impossible. He had a hold on her.

Emily's elbow into Sara's side broke the eye contact she'd had with Dr. Grissom and Sara turned to look at her room mate. Her jaw had gone slack at hearing Sara's confession.

"Well, Miss Sidle, thank you for being honest," Grissom said, his voice a little shaky at first, "I'm pleased to know that I have influenced at least one of you right off the bat. I hope to have a few more students interested in forensic entomology, or at least the art of forensics."

The lecture ended at the exact time that Sara had predicted it would. Doctor Grissom exited the stage quickly, telling them that he would be in his temporary office if anyone had any questions.

As the rest of the audience began to move toward the exits, Sara headed for the stage.

"Sara, where are you going?" Emily asked, noticing that Sara was moving in the opposite

direction. She started after her.

"I have questions for him," Sara said simply, as if this were a logical excuse to be acting like a stalker. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Why doesn't that surprise me, the girl with a thousand questions has a question for the gorgeous doctor. Sara, come on, you can ask him next class," Emily called after her, "We're going to be late for dance."

"Go on without me then," Sara told her, without turning around, "I really want to talk to Dr. Grissom in private."

"You would," Emily muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," Sara called, glancing over her shoulder to wink at Emily.

By the time Emily caught up to her, Sara was already standing outside the doctor's office door.

Her hand perched and ready to knock.

"I don't think I want to be here for this," Emily teased.

"Oh, please, you know I'm a virgin, I would never-" Sara froze when the door swung open in front of her, "Oh hell."

"Am I interrupting a personal conversation, Miss Sidle, because from what I overheard through the door there-"

"Oh hell."

"Right, well, I'm headed to dance now Sara so ask your questions and I'll see you later," with that, Emily turned and left Sara standing there alone and terribly embarrassed.

Dr. Grissom smiled at her, "You have questions for me?"

Sara nodded, not sure that she trusted her voice, and he held the door open to her.

"Please, come in."

"So, you have a few questions for me?"

They had been sitting in his office for nearly twenty minutes now and Sara had yet to speak.

They'd been staring at each other, caught up in the intensity of the other's gaze. When he finally broke the silence between them, Sara smiled at him and Dr. Grissom went a little weak in the knees. Her smile was one he hoped to see many times before he left Boston.

"I guess the first question I'd like to ask you is, why entomology? I mean, I know that most little boys have a fascination with bugs, but, I don't know very many grown men who like to play with them," Sara said, the question light and somewhat teasing, giving him that smile again when she was through.

Grissom returned her smile, taking a seat at his very untidy desk.

"Well, Sara, I guess I am one of those men who took their childhood passion and made it into my career. Little boys who play with Legos and Lincoln Logs grow up to be architects. Little boys who play with Hot Wheels grow up to be mechanics and NASCAR drivers. I played with bugs and became an entomologist. You knew early on that you were good at math and science, right? That fueled your path to becoming a great physicist."

Sara blushed a little at his use of 'great' in his description. Neither of them spoke for a minute and Sara looked down at her hands. She twisted the ring on her thumb in circles, keeping her eyes focused on something.

"So, Dr. Grissom, what does your wife think of your bug fetish?"

Grissom laughed at her question, shaking his head slightly.

"Please, Sara, just 'Grissom', or Gil if you'd like. And, first of all, I'm not married, never have been. Second, to call it a 'fetish' would imply that there was a sexual undertone to my work. Which, I will strongly add, there isn't."

Sara smiled, "Sorry, bad choice of wording. Forgive me."

Grissom seemed to think about that for a moment before returning her smile, "I'll forgive you, Sara, on one condition."

"And that would be?"

"Well, I need an assistant on a case that I'm consulting on for the Boston PD. Someone to take notes and photographs, someone I know will be interested in learning how a real investigator works while at a scene. I could pay you."

"Pay me? Are you kidding? I'd do it for free! I mean, what an amazing chance to learn this stuff before I even get a job in the real world," Sara was overwhelmed with excitement at his offer, "Of course I'll help, I'd love to."

"Great, you start tonight. Meet me back here at ten p.m. and I'll drive you over to the scene."

Sara started to rise from her chair, her smile so bright it went all the way to her eyes.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Grissom, I-"

"Just Grissom, Sara. And, you're welcome."

When Sara knocked on Grissom's office door, she was shaking with excitement. Not only was she getting the opportunity to work at a real crime scene, but she was getting an opportunity to spend an entire night with the most gorgeous, most honest man she'd ever met.

It took a moment for Grissom to open the office door for her and even then it was only enough for her to catch a glimpse of him before he disappeared.

"Come on in, Sara," he called from somewhere in the back of the room, "I'll be just one minute."

In his absence, Sara took the time to look around.

She studied a display case hanging on the wall behind his desk. Tiny butterflies, the smallest she'd ever seen, were pinned to a Styrofoam display board inside the case, creating a rainbow of color against the white background. She smiled to herself, feeling extremely giddy at the moment, and turned around. She moved away from his desk and took a seat on the couch that sat along the opposite wall.

Less than five minutes later, Grissom emerged from a small room in the back corner of his office that Sara assumed was a bathroom. He was buttoning the last two buttons on his dark green dress shirt and Sara paid close attention the muscle definition created by the tight sleeves. She licked her lips out of sheer habit and felt herself blush when she realized that he'd seen her.

"So, are you ready to be put to work?" he asked, not bringing up Sara's indiscretion.

She nodded and stood, taking the clipboard he handed her and following him from the room.

They arrived at the crime scene nearly twenty minutes after they'd left campus and Sara looked around. They were in an upscale housing development, one that Sara had never noticed before tonight.

Grissom drove toward the end of the lot and, for the first time, Sara noticed the yellow tape. He parked his rental car beside a BPD cruiser but stopped Sara from exiting the car.

"Here," he said, handing her a laminated name tag, "You'll need this to move around back there. This is a high profile case and we have to be very discrete. If you hadn't noticed on the way in, that house, right over there-" he turned and pointed to a large colonial behind her "is the mayor's house, Sara. This is his neighborhood and it's also the scene of our homicide investigation."

"Homicide?" Sara asked, realizing that he hadn't actually given her the details of the case that they were working on.

"Yes. A young woman, identified as Marie St. Clare was found by the men doing construction on this lot last week. Her remains were covered in a particular species of blow fly, which is why I was asked to consult, but we also discovered that the particular species feeding off of Marie's flesh are not found in the region of the US, they are usually found in the Midwest, Las Vegas in particular."

"Are you telling me that someone transported this girl's body all the way from Las Vegas?" Sara asked, a little overwhelmed by the brutality of the situation.

"At this point in my investigation, that's what I'm leaning toward."

"Does she have any family?" Sara asked, her tone dropping slightly.

"We found her in our database because her parents reported her missing eight months ago," Grissom told her, "She was originally from Tuscan, Arizona."

"Oh," was all that Sara could manage to say. Grissom examined her reaction for a moment before taking her hand in his.

"Sara, if this is going to be too difficult for you, I can-"

"No, no, I'll be fine," she said, covering her urge to cry with a smile, "Let's just get this over with."

That morning during the autopsy, Sara became ill.

"Hey, hey, come on, Sara," Grissom was quiet and calm as he half-carried her from the room.

Once in the hall way, he helped her sit down, leaning her back against the wall. He knelt down in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she muttered through the beginning of tears.

"Don't worry about it," he said softly, wiping absently at her eyes, "It's a completely natural reaction. Is this first time you've ever seen a body, honey?"

She didn't really notice his endearment as she was lost in her own thoughts. She shook her head at the question, but didn't look up into his eyes.

"Sara? Tell me what your thinking and maybe I can help you," he said, "I want to help you, Sara."

Now she looked up at him.

"You can't ..."

Two Days Later

Sara sat cross-legged on her bed, her Biology notes spread out in front of her. Her coffee sat on the night stand beside the bed, a bottle of water was propped against the wall, and a box of Kleenex was in her lap.

"You okay, Sara?"

Emily stuck her head into the room and peered the door at her room mate.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," Sara muttered, "Just doing some work for Dr. Grissom. You going out tonight?"

"Yeah, Rach asked if I wanted to go to Patrick's party with her," Emily told her, coming in and sitting down next to her, "Why don't you come with us?"

Sara shook her head and pointed to the notes she had spread out across her bed, "Can't. I'm supposed to meet Dr. Grissom in the morning with a synopsis of what I think happened at the crime scene we're working on. He's been e-mailing me DNA reports and stuff, trying to help me, so I have to come up with a plausible scenario for our homicide."

Emily just sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I think you're taking this whole 'note taking thing' a little too seriously, Sar."

"Emily, this is what I want to do for a living and if kissing Gil Grissom's ass for a few days will get me a great letter of recommendation, I'll do it."

"Oh yeah, cause you wouldn't kiss his ass if he didn't give you a recommendation?"

Emily just barely missed being slugged in the arm by Sara as she stood up to leave the room.

"All right, well I'm going so leave me a note if your not going to be home tonight," Emily told her, heading out of Sara's bedroom.

"I will, have fun."

Sara pulled her car into the empty spot next to Grissom's in front of the diner. She put the car in park, turned off her headlights and glanced in the mirror. She looked okay, a little sleep deprived, but she looked good. Her hair was cooperating and she wasn't wearing too much make-up. God, Sara thought, I need to get laid.

She walked into the diner, spotting Grissom sitting in a booth in the back. She waved at him when he glanced up at her, smiling. She moved with deliberate grace toward the table, her hips swaying a little more than they would have if she hadn't been trying to make them.

Grissom swallowed hard, locking his eyes on her as she moved toward him. Her jeans were tight on her hips, making her legs look incredibly long, and the sleeveless sweater she wore didn't quite reach the top of her jeans, giving him a glimpse of ivory skin. He felt himself getting hard.

Damn it, Gil. What the hell's wrong with you, she's a student!

He shook his head briefly and took a large gulp of his coffee. Sara slid into the booth across from him, smiling brightly.

"Hey, Grissom."

"Hi Sara, how'd your research go?"

"Pretty good, I guess. I think I know what happened," her voice caught in her throat and Grissom raised an eyebrow at her.

"You okay?" he asked, sliding his coffee toward her, "I was worried about you the other night."

"Oh, that, I just, don't have as strong a stomach as I thought I did. I felt like such an idiot," her last sentence was slightly muted but Grissom heard it any way.

"Sara, you shouldn't feel like an idiot, I'm telling you, you didn't do anything out of the ordinary," he reassured her, " A lot of people throw up during their first autopsy...I did."

Sara looked up at him and smiled, "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

Grissom smiled at her and laughed, "Okay, so maybe I didn't exactly throw up, but I thought I would."

Sara laughed while she slid the coffee cup around on the table. Her eyes focused down into the steaming brown liquid and her smile began to fade.

"Sara, do you want to tell me what really happened?" Grissom asked, noticing her change in mood.

"I told you, I just-"

"That isn't what I mean, Sara. I'm a trained investigator, this is what I do for a living, I read people and right now, you're very uncomfortable," he told her, "Is it me? Did I do something to upset you? Is it the case?"

Sara was shaking her head, "Honestly? I don't want to talk about it, it happened too long ago and it's not important."

The first thing that Grissom noticed when he tried to gage her response was the change in her posture. She slumped forward slightly, putting her elbows on the table and leaning into her hands. The tears forming in her eyes were his next clue. Whatever she was thinking about, it held some sort of importance.

"Talk to me, tell me what happened, maybe it will make you feel better to just get it out."

For a long moment, Sara just sat there. Not able to lift her head from her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried quietly. Grissom didn't touch her, he didn't push her, he simply let her cry and get the pain out, hoping it would make talking easier for her.

When she settled, he noticed the shaking in her shoulders had ceased and she looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.

"I've never really told anyone this story, Grissom," she began, "I mean, my parents of course, but no one else."

"I understand, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said, silently hoping that she would tell him and let him help her get past it.

Sara took a ragged and began softly, "When I was younger, in middle school, I had a friend, a close friend, Angela. We did pretty much everything together, we grew up together, had known each other our whole lives. But, when we were fourteen, in the middle of eighth grade, Angela started coming to school with bruises on her face. Obviously there was something wrong and I was fourteen so I didn't really know what to do about it. But, like most child abuse cases, Angela made me swear that I wouldn't say a

word to anyone about what she told me... I remember, the first time she came to school with the bruises on her face and she cried to me in the bathroom for more than an hour."

"What happened to her?"

Sara swiped at the tear that was running down her cheek, "Um, her stepfather, he was beating her. And on her birthday that year... I spent the night at her house and her dad, he raped me. When Angela tried to stop him...he- he killed her."

She broke. Her last words came out on a sob and Grissom slid out of his side of the booth to move in beside her. His arms went around her and she cried harder clinging to him.

"Shh, it's all right, Sara, shh," he instinctively brushed her hair with his fingers, holding her face to his shoulder, letting her cry to him.

Her sobs receded and Grissom forced her to look at him.

"You know that what happened to you and what happened to Angela, it wasn't your fault. You know that don't you?"

Sara nodded slowly, "It took me eight years of therapy to figure that out but, yeah, I know that it wasn't my fault. I also know that it wasn't Angela's fault. Her father was a sick bastard and that's all there is to it... he was sentenced to life without parole but he committed suicide in the first year he was in prison."

Grissom pulled Sara back against him and held her there. She wasn't crying anymore but he could feel her body trembling with each ragged breath she took.

Sara was becoming nervous with each stroke of his big hands down her spine. He was only trying to comfort her, she knew, but the feel of his hands on her...

"Grissom?" she sighed heavily.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

At his endearment, Sara looked up at him.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

She quickly covered his mouth with her fingers, "Its okay. Caught up in the moment, I completely understand..."

Their eyes locked and Grissom couldn't seem to tear himself away.

"Let me take you home, Sara."

Sara smiled a little, "Your place or mine?"

At the shocked look on Grissom's face, she laughed.

"Kidding, it was a joke," Sara said softly, pulling completely out of Grissom's embrace, "And I'm fine now, I can drive myself home. Thank you for listening, Dr. Grissom."

"Sara, are you sure-"

She was already standing up and grabbing her purse, "I'll be fine. Really. Thanks again."

He didn't know what to say as he watched her retreating back. She was almost to the door when he slid out of the booth and went after her.

"Sara?"

She turned back to him.

"Tomorrow, it's my last day in Boston, I just got called back to Vegas on a case," he told her quickly, "I just wanted to let you know I'd be going and I wanted to thank you, for helping me with my case."

"Oh, well, you're welcome, although I wouldn't say that I helped much, I just kind of got in the way..."

Grissom was shaking his head and taking a step toward her. Sara didn't back away.

"You helped, trust me-" he leaned in a little more, "-Can I call you, Sara? Will you keep in touch?"

Sara took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that she was suffering from a lack of oxygen. She nodded in response to his question and reached out for his hand. He gave it to her, palm down and she took a pen from her pocket.

"This is my phone number at the apartment, and this is my email address-" she wrote them both on his hand, "- Call me whenever."

When she dropped his hand, Grissom grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him, kissing her hard on the mouth.

Feeling the need for air again, Sara pulled away, staring at Grissom in shock.

"I want to see you again someday, Sara."

And then he let her go. He turned, without another word and went back into the diner.