Author's Note: Okay - last chapter, just want to say thank you for reading, and reviewing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the show, I have nothing so suing me really would be a waste of time that could be better spent writing Sara back in for Season Nine

When they awoke the next morning, the sun slipped through the gap in the drapes, casting a gold light across the rumpled bed clothes and the skin of Sara's back. Grissom, waking first, lay still, just watching her. The world looked a lot less bleak than when he had arrived the previous night. He could scarcely believe how his life had changed, and how he felt so different and yet more like himself than he possibly ever had.

Sara woke to late morning sunshine and the smell of coffee which turned her stomach in a good way. She rolled over to see Grissom sitting on the side of her bed, fully clothed. Her heart sank.

"You're going?" He turned at the sound of her voice.

"To get breakfast." Sara sidled over underneath the covers, enjoying the feel of them against her skin. She never usually slept naked, and she liked it. She slid an arm around his waist.

"I don't want breakfast," she purred, pulling him down to kiss her, "I want you to come back to bed." He smiled.

"What if I said you could have both?" She considered this for a moment, pursing her lips.

"I'd say… don't be long."

He wasn't. And when he came back it was as clear from his eyes as she could feel it in hers that breakfast wasn't really on his mind. Their hands never strayed far from one another and they had scarcely finished their coffee when they began to regard one another with a different kind of hunger.

Sara had never in her life spent a day in bed. Even when unwell she usually made it to her couch, where she could reach both the remote and the police scanner. But this day was different, and after calling into the lab to check they really were not needed, somehow, again and again they found themselves back between the sheets. The culmination of years waited and weeks drawing ever closer made it difficult for them to be apart, their bodies, once connected, needing to maintain the contact.

For Grissom it was about learning. Sara, in her entirety, was something to be taken in, bit by bit, and memorised. The new physicality and intimacy of her, without clothes, was a wonder, a mystery he needed to unravel. The way her breathing shallowed when he kissed her neck, the way her nails dug into his back when he let his lips brush over her navel.

Eventually, sated, soothed, and feeling closer than ever before, they showered, dressed and went in search of dinner.

Grissom drove them out of the city much like he had the day they had first kissed. Sara sat back, her eyes closed, his hand lightly resting on her knee, hers curled into it. Their silence was perfect.

She had been to the Lake before, but not to the marina, and as they pulled up in front of the low, jettied buildings she was amazed that it even existed, tucked away on the sheltered shore.

They walked slowly along the central jetty, watching the carp that swam in shoals all around the wooden walk way. The marina building itself was closed, keeping summer hours, but on the other side of the planked station was a small diner, laced beautifully with fairy lights, windows looking out over the shore. It was empty, but welcoming, and Grissom nodded in greeting to the large woman who seated them.

"You come here?" Sara asked, sliding into a window booth.

"Sometimes."

"It's beautiful," she breathed, watching the rows of boats tremble in the mild evening breeze.

"Since when are you interested in beauty?" he teased, opening a menu. Sara let out a very soft laugh.

"Since I met you, of course."

After dinner, Grissom opened the door of the diner and let Sara through, feeling her brush against his chest as she passed. He breathed in the contact. Once outside, he reached for her hand and they ambled, slowly, from one end of the jetty to the other, crossing almost the entire breadth of the small bay. They stopped when they reached the end, standing aloft on the wooden struts, the mellow water of the lake swilling gently around them, the carp that had followed their progress making languid turns as they circled idly.

He loosed her hand and wrapped both arms around her from behind, encircling her, his face dipped into the curve of her neck. She sighed, and leaned back into him. They stood, still, letting minutes go by.

She felt safe, and whole, and like the preceding years had just been a very long, slow school, learning the steps to this dance.

He felt comfortable, and breathless, and in the sun that dipped out of the sky ahead of them he saw the embers of an old, lonely life. In the skin beneath his lips he tasted the promise of the new.

He gathered her in a little tighter, and she slid one arm up around his neck. One of the smallest pleasures that had led them here.

"Sara," he murmured, against her skin.

She stirred. "Mm?"

"I love you." In the end it wasn't difficult to say, not difficult at all. She did not move in his arms, just turned her face in a little closer to his.

"I love you too."

END.