When Grissom awoke in Brass’ darkened office, he knew she had been there. He had a vague memory, dream-like really, of her kneeling by his side and placing her cool hand on his cheek. He didn’t think they had conversed, he honestly didn’t think he could have. This had been a bad one. He had suffered from migraines since he was a teenager and his were definitely exacerbated by stress. But they had been growing more frequent and more severe lately.

He struggled to a sitting position and was pleased when the movement was not accompanied by dizziness or nausea. He knew he was going to have to break down and see his doctor like Sara had been after him to do. Sara. Even coming off the pain of a migraine, just the thought of her could bring a smile to his face. He stood and reached into his pocket for his car keys. He pulled out a strip of paper that simply read: “Bring it home.” He smiled again and headed to his car, deciding not to even stop back at CSI tonight. He had someplace better to be.

He text paged her from the car. “I’m on my way. Feeling better. Love you.” When he got to the townhouse (it had stopped being his and started being theirs quite awhile ago), the only light was coming from the muted television. He thought of how well she knew him and consistently anticipated his needs. She walked over to him at the entryway and wrapped her arms lovingly around him as if reading his mind.

“Can I do anything for you or do you just need to sleep?” She asked softly.

“I’m starting to feel better, but I should probably just go on to bed and sleep it of.” He replied.

“Okay. I have the blinds drawn and I got you something to try. It’s on your pillow.” She said with a quick kiss. She started to pull away, but he held her tight and kissed her sensually.

“Tease.” She laughed. “I know you can’t back that up.”

“Not right now maybe, but give me a little while.” He snickered.

He undressed in their darkened bedroom and climbed into bed. He felt something under his head as he lay down and remembered Sara’s gift. He examined it as best he could in the darkness, determining by feel that it was some kind of mask. He strapped it on his eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of lavender emanating from the mask. He knew lavender was supposed to promote relaxation, so he closed his eyes under the pleasant weight. As he drifted off, he wondered what he had done to deserve the wonderful woman with whom he shared his life.

When he finally awoke and removed the mask, he had to glance twice at the bedside clock. He couldn’t believe how long he had slept. He glanced at the other side of the bed, which had obviously been slept in too. He hated that he didn’t remember having her next to him last night. It amazed him how quickly he had gotten used to holding Sara in his arms or being held in hers as they slept. Their time together was precious and in short supply so he despised losing any of it, for any reason.

As he trudged out toward the kitchen in his boxer shorts, wondrous smells assaulted him. He was struck by how hungry he was, and he realized he couldn’t really remember the last time he had eaten. Sara sat at the breakfast bar reading the paper, a cup of coffee at her side. He slipped his arms around her and kissed the nape of her neck.

“Something smells heavenly.” He muttered into her hair.

“Besides me you mean?” She teased. “Might it smell like … blueberry pancakes perhaps?”

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

She smiled broadly at him, thinking how adorably boyish he looked, and reveling in the realization that these moments were hers alone. This Grissom was known to no one else and that made her feel incredibly special. She rose and made him a plate of warm pancakes with fresh fruit compote on top and paired it with a steaming cup of vanilla coffee. She slid the plate in front of him and sat back down to watch him eat.

“Sara, these are delicious.” He mumbled with his mouth full.

She smiled and said, “I’m glad you like them. I thought you deserved something special after your shift from hell yesterday.”

“Thank you, but I already have something very special. Your love.” He replied sipping his coffee.

“So…do you want to talk about it? Brass said you had a tough time, even without the migraine.” She offered, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He sighed heavily, finished his pancakes and said, “You know the ones with kids are extra bad for me anyway, but spending so much time with this suspect…”

“The pedophile.” Sara supplied.

“Yes. I could almost empathize with him Sara. Not for the things he did of course, but…he really couldn’t see that he’d done anything wrong. He was sad and pathetic and intelligent and disturbed…and I felt for him a little. What does that make me?” He asked.

“Human.” She answered.

“It’s just getting harder and harder not to lose pieces of myself in these cases. Maybe I’m getting old; maybe I’ve been doing this job too long. I’m starting to feel lost in the one place I always thought I’d belong. Work used to be everything. Now I can’t wait to leave it behind at the end of the day and come home to you. I think I’m burning out Sara. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know where I would be or what I’d do.”

“You never have to worry about that either. I will always be here for you, Gil. I love you so much and I’ll support you in whatever you decide you need to do. I wish I could take this load off your shoulders and carry it myself, but I can’t. I will however always carry half of your worries as long as you keep sharing them with me.” She said as they embraced.

“I need you Sara.” He whispered huskily.

“You have me Gil.” She breathed in his ear.

They didn’t even attempt to make it to the bedroom, as they quickly divested each other of their clothing and made love urgently on the living room floor. It had almost become something of a ritual with them. When one of them was particularly affected by a case, the other would tell them to “bring it home”. They would talk it out and then release all their frustration, fear and negativity in a furious bout of love making initiated by the words “I need you”. Afterwards there was a sense of relief. Not because the concerns disappeared, but because they knew they no longer bore their burdens alone.

They lay entwined on the living room floor for awhile, touching and kissing. “Let’s take a shower…” he suggested stroking his fingers up and down her spine “…we need to get ready for work soon.”

“I’m all for taking a shower together…” she smiled, caressing his chest “…but this is my night off. And your second in command left you a voice mail message earlier, telling you not to even think about showing your face at work tonight after yesterday’s migraine.”

“Oh really….hmmm. Whatever will we do with an unexpected night off together?” He said playfully.

“I’m sure we can think of something.” She answered smugly.

He picked her up and as he carried her to their bedroom he heard her softly singing:

I know your heart can get all tangled up inside
But don’t you keep it to yourself
When your long day is over
And you can barely drag your feet
The weight of the world is on your shoulders
I know what you need
Bring it on home to me
Little Big Town’s “Bring it on Home”