He tried his best to distinguish the precise type of flower is was, that leant it’s scent so lovingly to her neck. But the greenhouse was full of a cacophony of foliage. The damp soil beneath his head, seductively ingrained itself into the strands of his hair.

She was not usually on top, for the most part it was him who had to do the persuading. But tonight she had assailed him, marking his lips with an assault of kisses. His breath barely having time to catch beneath his tongue, before it began gliding over hers.

It was times like this when he tried his best to draw away. It became so bitter sweet that he knew it could not be reality. Yet all the strength of mind he had always prided himself on possessing- could not resist her skin on his.

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A few hours and some cold water later, Grissom arrived at work. He had already decided that enough time had elapsed, as to make it acceptable for them to work the same case again.

He watched for her reaction on hearing the news, she grimaced for just a second. It was enough to make his heart skip a double beat, though outwardly he wore his usual mask of indifference. Was she hating him now?

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The Light fixture fell before any of them could register the event. But it took only a second after it had happened for him to realise she was hurt. True to form, her attractive mouth was uttering a stream of profanities, so the damage seemed minimal.

It was a broken right arm and light bruising to her upper chest. Grissom envied the doctor conducting the physical for being able to touch her, even if his intentions were considerably more chaste than her infatuated supervisor.

He tried not to exhibit his surprise, when she agreed to vacation time. It seemed to Grissom as though all Sara’s sleepless nights were beginning to catch up with her. While he, nightly prayed for insomnia to bring an end to his visions- of her unrivalled loveliness.

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Sara traced the neat figures he created with his hands. Her fingers ran gently over his, as her mouth formed soundless words. She was a fast learner, and he was fascinated by the way she made elegant work of his clumsy looking signals.

It was the third day in a row Grissom had come to her apartment after shift. It seemed she couldn't stand to spend her time off, alone. They had formed an unspoken arrangement, that felt deceptively like friendship- though both knew it to be more.

At first he had brought books to amuse her, and had even attempted a few board games. But it was sign language that really seemed to excite her interest. As if by learning to communicate with each other in this way, they would finally reach some kind of conclusion.

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He had not been hoping to see her tonight. He would have been content to dream of other things, now that he was beginning to spend so much time with the 'real' Sara again. But still the softer, more seductive version of herself appeared to him.

She lay gently beside him, her breath tickling his chin. As if compelled by a will of its own, his hand reached out across the void, to caress the side of her face. She smiled, and the tiny gap appeared between her teeth. But, it soon parted to allow his tongue entrance into her mouth.

So another night began. Restlessness, mingled with an aching sensation which spread across the pit of his stomach. He reached out for her, and wrapped his body tightly around her own. Hoping against all odds, that she would not leave. That she would be granted mortality.

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The following day, he arrived at her front door, bearing a lily bouquet. She laughed, thinking it was meant to secure her status as housebound invalid, even going as far as to request her grapes. Secretly he viewed them as an apology, or maybe as a thank you, for lending her form so graciously- to his every dream.

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Grissom's mouth was dry and he could not stop blinking. His lids would close momentarily, allowing her bare back to disappear. Sara had asked him to help her, with such a shy look that he had been touched. Her vulnerability had weakened his reserve.

He repeated a fickle mantra in his head, 'You've got troubles enough, look but don't touch' . But the more items of her clothing that fell to the floor with a silky thud, the harder it became to stay Zen. Even the bruising, could not deface her inescapable beauty.

Feeling his fingers, drift over her collar bone, he elicited a small sigh. She shivered into his touch, and he reached for the two sides of the towel which she held out to him. Wrapped her tightly, he tucked her in at the back.

He was sure that he heard an almost inaudible thank you, as she walked towards her bathroom.

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Sitting upright, with his eyes glued to the discovery channel, he began his nightly vigil. He would wait for the sunset and when it came he would rest for an hour, before going to work. Surely that would not be enough time- to meet his muse in Elysium.

But like thousands of foolish mortals before him, he fell under the spell of his own denial. A second spent sleeping, was a lifetime spent with her in dreamland. This day would be no different.

She sat behind the desk in his office, going through his papers, touching his things. He approached her, but she did not look up until his hand touched her face reverentially. Knowing where this would inevitably lead, he went back to lock the door.

The floor was smooth, but the tiling was frigidly cold. He spread his jacket beneath her, yet she seemed to have noticed nothing. Her skin was warm and burned to his caress. As her cries increased, he lost himself- sinking into the sweetness of her voice.

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The alarm clock, sounded across his barren townhouse. He awoke part smiling, part sighing. He wondered if she would ask him to help her get changed again, today.

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At first it seemed that he was hearing things. That old age had crept up upon him suddenly, and tempted his ears with illicit sayings. Turning in the doorway, he could see her face and her moving lips, clearly.

‘Stay with me’

The words floated in the air, and hung heavy like a blanket around them. His head shook with disbelief, thinking it was his answer, she hung her head. He quickly realised his folly, and moved towards her. Sara’s breath caught, as the softness of his touch, registered in her aching mind.

He pulled her into his chest and wiped the tears, making their heart-rending journey down her face. It was only once they were gone, that she realised she had been crying at all. Secure in his arms, she let the night claim her and sleep arrived for them both.

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His hand crept up the side of her silken form, as she lay beside him. Her hair was splayed out across the pillow, painting pretty, dark patterns on the light fabric. Just as he reached the curve of her breast, she gently grasped his wrist.

He moved, until she lay below him, basking in the warmth of her smile. It resonated out into the moonlit darkness, and melted into the floral scent which laced the air around him. She was so close, he could barely breath.

When her lips found his, he remembered himself. Like a thousand dreams before, he knew that there would be no resisting. As the kiss deepened, he moved his attentions down towards her neck, and the delicate underside of her jaw.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, he went. Lead by passion and burning. Blinded by love. He whispered her name with reverence, before collapsing into self-consuming flames.

But the dream did not end so quickly, as that night it never really began. He opened his eyes for just a second, and two Sara’s became one. Both sighing, both whispering hallowed words, a simple phrase- that blazed like poetry.

‘It was just like I dreamt it would be, Gil’

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He softly touched her face as she slept beside him, unable to believe that she was really there. That he was no longer- only dreaming.