He had no idea who'd done it, but Gil Grissom was not pleased with it.  He cautiously eyed the little sprig of green leaves and white berries swinging on a piece of cotton from the ceiling and then looked around the break room as if the perpetrator responsible could be seen cowering in a corner or cautiously fleeing out the door.  He just knew it was a set-up.  It could have been Catherine, he thought, reflecting back on her 'Grissom the Grinch' speech earlier tonight.  On the other hand, it could have been Greg.  He was always trying to add his own unique spice of life to the lab.

Truth be told, he hadn't really thought about the looming approach of Christmas except in passing.  He still had gifts to purchase and no plans as yet for Christmas Eve.  Work had been keeping him busy enough to prevent him from doing anything about either of those things.  It seemed all the crazy (and sane) people finally lost it on the holidays.

He glared up at the swinging mistletoe again as if it was the source of all his problems in life.  Well, at least he knew where it was so he was prepared for it.  He'd let the others have their share of fun with it, but Gil Grissom did not show public displays of affection.

He moved to the coffee pot and swirled the hours-old brew around as if it could possibly improve the bitter taste.

"I don't think it's safe to drink that.  I'm pretty sure it's been there for the last six hours."

Gil looked over his shoulder and gave Catherine one of his half smiles as she walked in.  "I need the caffeine."

She gave him a look of concern.  "You'd be better off with a can of Coke."  He grimaced at the thought.  "Long shift, huh?"

He nodded and then pointed up at the ceiling.  "Your doing?"

Catherine followed his finger and grinned.  "Well, well, seems we have a romantic in our midst."  She gave him a funny glance.  "You're observant to catch that up there."

He cocked a knowing eyebrow.  "I'm paid to be observant."

Catherine walked forward, bent down to get a cola from the bar fridge and handed it to Grissom. "Oh, get into the spirit of it, Gil."

"I've got too much work to do."

"Christmas comes but once a year—" Catherine began preaching.

"Every year," Grissom interrupted.  "There'll be another one."

He looked towards the doorway as he heard footsteps approaching.

"—And then apparently she called him the Grinch!"

"No way!  How many lives does that woman have?"

Nick and Warrick waltzed into the room and froze when they saw Gil and Catherine.

Nick quickly turned to Warrick. "Busted."

Warrick just grinned and raised his eyebrows.  "The Grinch, Cath?  Our Grissom?  He's as jolly as Santa himself, can't you tell?"

Catherine laughed and Gil frowned.  "I'm not against Christmas; I just have work to do."  He looked pointedly at Warrick and Nick.  "As I'm sure you do, too."

Catherine gave a mock salute that she thought Grissom didn't see as he exited the room.  He repressed the urge to sigh again.  The truth was he liked the Christmas holidays.  It was a busy time of year, sure, because it tended to bring out the best and worst in people, but it was like a whole new area of human deviant behaviour that he liked to study if not necessarily participate in.

He really shouldn't care what his subordinates thought of him and he supposed he couldn't really blame them for their opinions.  He hadn't exactly been singing carols and sending out Christmas cards lately.  Still, he couldn't help but feel a little annoyed that they all thought he was a scrooge.

Back in his office, Gil had only just picked up a lab report to peruse when Sara stuck her head around the door.

"Grissom?  I just finished running those prints through AFIS.  We got a match.  David Mercure.  Busted for possession in '93, armed assault in '95, and assault and battery in 2001."

Grissom nodded and gave her small smile of satisfaction.  "Good.  I'll get Brass to pick him up."  He got out of his chair, walked up to her and reached for the report in her hand.  "And this is the tox screen, no doubt.  Good work, Sara."

She gave him a wide smile, which he found endearing.  "Thanks."

Suddenly an excited shout from down the hall caught their attention.  Greg raced up to them, grinning like a Cheshire cat and pointed above their heads. 

"Christmas tradition, guys."  He rubbed his hands together in enthusiastic anticipation.

Grissom stiffened and turned to look where Greg had pointed, a sinking sensation in his stomach.  And right there, above the doorway to his very own office, he saw it.  Another sprig of mistletoe.  His stomach hit the floor and his heart rate went into overdrive.  How could he have missed it?  Casting a quick glance at Sara, he noted she looked as surprised as he did.  They weren't idiots; they both knew what this particular Christmas tradition meant.

And then Catherine walked around the corner with Warrick and Nick and took in the situation in a single glance.  Grissom and Sara avoiding eye contact, Greg grinning like an idiot, and the mistletoe above their heads.  She waited for Grissom to blow his top.  Nick on the other hand, didn't seem to appreciate the potential danger ahead.

"Didn't see that one coming, Greggo.  Grissom, you lucky devil."  He matched Greg's grin enthusiastically and resisted the urge to slap Grissom on the back.

Catherine jumped in to diplomatically defuse the situation, knowing that Grissom was never going to kiss Sara in front of half the department, Christmas tradition or not.  "Perhaps, we should forgo this one, guys.  We've got a lot of work to do."

"No way," Greg whined.  "It's bad luck to break tradition."

Grissom stepped away from the doorway, putting three feet of distance between him and Sara.  The thought of kissing her, here, in front of all these people made him break out in a cold sweat.  Surprised that she hadn't said anything he snuck another glance at her, puzzled to see that she seemed to be amused by this whole thing.

"We'll take our chances, Greg.  Don't you still have that DNA to run?"

Greg looked like he wanted to object some more, but Warrick took him by the arm and steered him back towards his lab.  "Yeah, and I got some juicy swab samples for you to run as well."

Catherine meanwhile had grabbed Nick and started dragging him back the way they had come.  Grissom felt the urge to let out a sigh of relief, but knew that they would all probably be talking about this little incident once they were out of earshot.  He turned back to Sara who still looked amused.

"You aren't really the Grinch, are you, Grissom?"

She stepped back into his office obviously expecting him to follow.  He frowned, not really sure what she meant by that comment, and came up behind her.  She spun back to face him and he fought the urge to step back and put some more space between them. 

"Afraid of tradition?" she teased.

He gazed down at her.  "No."

Her expression changed to one of curiosity, almost wistfulness.  "Maybe you're afraid of me, then?"

"No."

She took another step closer.  "The crowd's gone," she whispered.  He could only nod.  She was now so close they were almost touching.  "I think you've run out of excuses."  She curled a hand up behind his neck and brought his face down to hers, her lips barely an inch away from his own.  "Merry Christmas, Gil."

He closed the gap, covering her lips with his own.  The scent of her intoxicated him and a flood of need sheared through him, stunning him with the intensity of his hunger for her.  One hand came up to cradle her head, his fingers threading through the silken strands of her hair.  He wondered why he'd ever denied himself this pleasure before. 

He drew back to take a gasping breath but she pressed her mouth back to his.  He wasn't quite prepared for what happened next – for the savage response, for the explosive excitement that raced through him as he gathered her closer.  He kissed her as though it were the most important test in the world, as though he had been starved for most of his life.

She responded with what seemed to be all the warmth and all the passion of which she was capable.  He felt her relax languidly in his arms as if she was melting into him, her arms still wrapped around his neck as if for support.

When he eased away he gazed down at her with a longing so fierce it felt like molten lava in his veins.  Watching her thick lashes slowly open, discovering the hazy desire in her eyes, he smiled tenderly.  He realised how much he had denied himself as well as her.  The distance he'd put between them was necessary to his survival because he'd known this was what it would be like with her. Utterly combustible.  As he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, she closed her eyes and pressed against his palm.  A sigh escaped her and his gaze was drawn back to her lips, parted, moist and begging to be kissed again. 

His body throbbed restlessly beneath his steel control, and it took every ounce of his inner strength not to pull her back into his arms.  With an obvious reluctance he stepped back and let his arms fall away.  Their faces flushed, their breathing heavy, they just looked at each other a moment.  His eyes flickered back to her lips, swollen from his kisses, and then he forced himself to look down, breaking the contact. 

When he had the nerve to look back, she hadn't gone. She had in fact, moved closer again, a small smile playing over her lips.  His heart thundered in his chest.  Knowing that he couldn't let her play him again, but also knowing that she had disintegrated most of his defences so that he didn't have the strength of will to stop her, he swallowed convulsively, trying to think of the most appropriate words to say.

He was still wondering when Sara reached up to give him another quick kiss, short and sweet and definitely leaving him wanting.  She raised a hand to gently caress his cheek.  "Don't you love mistletoe?" she whispered, giving him a pointed look that told him exactly who had been responsible for the holiday decorations.  Then she quietly turned and left his office. 

Gil stared after her, want forming an ache deep in the pit of his stomach.  He knew he should be angry with her but he couldn't summon the feeling.  Then suddenly he smiled.  A full-wattage grin that he had rarely showed in the last few months, and he thought that maybe the craziness of Christmas had gotten to him too and perhaps he should be studying his own deviant behaviour.  Even though he knew it could go no further, knowing that she longed for him as much as he did for her sent an odd contentment spreading through him. 

"Merry Christmas to you too," he murmured.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* Maybe a sequel?  Hmm, I haven't decided yet.  Let me know what you think!