A/N: Hey guys. This is my very first attempt to write something in english (my first language is portuguese), so, please, don't be so mean to me. I really tried.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I wouldn't have to dream about a geekbaby, believe me.

Passions

I can remember a few passions that I've had over the years. I remember my first pet – a fish, whose name was Arthur. I gave him this name because it is my middle name, and I thought that that way we could have something in common. I was five, and I was desolated when he died. He was my best friend – I even took him to my mother's gallery when I went there, or to de garden, when my father was working with his plants.

After Arthur died, I found a tarantula in school – mom nearly freaked out when she saw it, but she let me keep him. I named him Joe, and he lasted until I freed him into the garden. It just seemed like a better place to live than that small cage.

When I was nine, I had my first crush – her name was Annie. I can remember how she used to laugh at my glasses, and how I used to pinch her hair. Lovely, of course. One day, I took my mother's engagement ring and gave it to Annie, who accepted. When mom found out, I had to pick it back, and Annie somehow thought that was not polite. She never laughed at my glasses after that fateful day.

During my teenage years, entomology became my greatest passion. Of course, it was more of a hobby, like an interesting reading in the library during lunch time at school. After college, on the other hand, it became my work, not only a hobby. I was more than pleased when I could put together my two passions – forensic science and entomology. Of course, between a case and another, there wasn't always time for insects, and when I thought I could need my bug friends, I would accept to teach a seminar in some university around the country. After all, teaching was another passion.

I almost didn't go to that seminar years ago; we were in the clue of a serial killer, and every moment wasted was thrown in the garbage can. I was training two CSIs at the same, and I had just found out that Catherine's husband was cheating on her. It didn't seem reasonable to go away for two months. But everyone insisted that I should go, and I did. I just never thought it would change my life.

It was a six-week seminar, and I was invited to instruct people about entomology and anthropology at the Forensics Academy Conference. I wasn't the only guest lecturer, and there were people from all over the country. It looked like any other seminar. Since it was in California, I would take the two remaining weeks to visit my mother in Santa Monica, and then I would go back to Vegas.

I've seen a lot in my experience with graduate students. Young women and men hitting on the teacher, annoying students with stupid questions, kiss-asses, people sleeping during the lecture… It's really not a big deal. But as soon as she put her feet into the class room, she got my attention.

Well, that was because she was late, and she tripped over her own foot, causing the notebook and the books she had in her hands to drop in the ground. She blushed immediately when she realized that half of the people in the room were looking at her, including me. I continued speaking as she took a seat in the middle row, and started to settle for the lecture. I took note of her appearance; she looked no more than twenty-six years old, with her dark brown hair turned into a messy ponytail, and her attentive dark eyes following every movement of my mouth as I spoke. It was hard for me to admit it at the time, but she was absolutely adorable.

Somewhere in the middle of the anthropologist lecture, she raised her left hand in the air, and I motioned for her to speak. She and another guy in the class surprised me with their questions; they weren't stupid, they were smart. But I couldn't help but feel annoyed at their questions, especially hers. It seemed like she was trying to prove me wrong. She was beautiful, indeed. But she was much more annoying.

By the time the lecture stopped, it was late evening, and everyone started to leave. The other student who kept asking me questions wanted to introduce himself, and I noticed that she was preparing to leave.

As I was speaking to Tom Keller, she got up, and made her way to us, slowly, obviously not wanting to talk to Tom, with whom she got into an argument during my lecture. God, these two were annoying.

"I still have some questions about the decomposing bodies." She said, simply, as Tom said good-bye. Her voice was huskier now that it was kept low, but it somehow fit her. I nodded, and we proceeded to another roll of questions. It was nearly eleven when she smiled and closed her notebook.

"Well, thanks for the class. It was instructing." She added, politely.

"You're welcome, Miss…?" I asked, because she didn't say her name at any moment of our conversation.

"Sidle. Sara Sidle." She said, not even hesitating, as if she were expecting me to ask her name. Sara Sidle shook my hand firmly, smiling wider, and I couldn't help but smile back. "I work as a CSI level one at the San Francisco Crime Lab."

"Well, then you're here because your supervisor obliged you." I said, smiling apologetically. "Sorry to keep you from your spare time."

"It's okay. I did find it instructing." She smiled again, and I found myself lost in her smile for the first time. "Gee, it's almost eleven. Time to go to work. I'll see you next class, Dr. Grissom."

"Until then, Miss Sidle." I said, and with another bright smile, Sara Sidle was gone.

It took me some time to realize that I was looking forward to see Sara Sidle again, to hear her questions and answer them. She was bright, intelligent, but still incredibly annoying. It seemed that she and Tom Keller were fighting over who was going to be my star student. After six classes or so, I had no doubt that Sara was the one. Somehow, after class, she would make me forget how annoying she was.

On the fourth week of my staying in San Francisco, I received a call from Carl Cooper, the supervisor of one of the teams of the city crime lab. It was in the beginning of the afternoon, and I promptly accepted to consult them over a case they had the previous evening. I would be lying if I said that I didn't expect to see Sara Sidle wandering in the halls of the criminalistics building, but I must say I was surprised when Carl arrived with Sara right next to him.

The case they were working on was a body in a deep stage of decomposition, and I was more than willing to go out in the field with them. I watched the way Sara worked. She not only had a great mind, she was also very talented in the field. Despite the look on her face when she saw the maggots, I could say she was a CSI I would want in my team, if I had one.

We went out for coffee, and she even gave me a tour through the city, between a scene and another. I learned a lot about her in San Francisco, but now that I think of it, mostly was work-related. Soon they closed the case, and Sara and I would go out every night after my lecture to have a cup of coffee.

The six weeks passed by faster than I thought they would, and when I realized, it was my last night in San Francisco.

"It was lovely to meet you, Sara." I said that night, when we were walking out of the café. After a couple of days, she insisted that I should call her by my first name, and I insisted that she should call me Grissom.

"You too, Grissom." Sara told me, but she wasn't looking into my eyes when she spoke. I felt as if we were saying a bitter good-bye, since Sara suddenly turned from warm to dry.

"Listen," I started, not really knowing what to say. "I'm gonna give you my phone number. So we can keep contact. Don't hesitate in calling." I grabbed one of my business card and a pen and wrote my e-mail and my phone number in the back.

She gave me a genuine smile, and shortly after that, we parted our ways out. Just like that, plain and simple. No tears, no kiss, just the promise of something more.

We kept contact, and we became good friends during the following months. We talked about cases, about life in general, and there were times we just called to say hello.

About a year and a half later, she was in Vegas with me. I don't know exactly when I realized Sara Sidle was my newest passion. Maybe it was when she volunteered to help with the Strip Strangler case, or when she started seeing that paramedic, or when she was hurt in the lab explosion. When she asked me to have dinner… God knows I wanted to say yes, but Sara's timing couldn't be worse.

By the time we had the Debbie Marlin case, I knew for sure that what I felt for Sara wasn't just friendship. I told Lurie something I couldn't bare to say to myself, and years later I discovered that Sara had heard everything. How bad that year turned out, I can see it now. I didn't give Sara the promotion because I knew everyone thought I was going to, but if I knew that Nick's almost promotion was going to have such an impact for her, I would have done it differently.

When I took her home after her DUI, she wouldn't say anything. When I left her at home, I promised myself I would re-build the friendship we had back in San Francisco, back when she first arrived in Vegas.

But Sara isn't an easy person. And I knew she wouldn't let me in easily after everything that happened between us.

Then, Ecklie broke up our team, and then he threatened to fire Sara.

That day, when she told me about her family, I had no doubt that I had to keep her with me. And not only at work. Once again, I promised myself to re-build our friendship. This time, I kept my promise.

It started out slow. I would go to her place unannounced, she would be surprise, and we would have dinner or breakfast or whatever meal we were supposed to have. Slowly, we were becoming more comfortable around each other. We worked our cases together better than before. We were actually talking to each other again.

But we got to a point where we wanted more. The tension was becoming clear as we grew closer to each other, and we both knew that there was a next step. This time, I wanted more. I just didn't know when or how I should act. She did call me a misanthropist, once.

We had the case in the mental hospital. Adam Trent threatened Sara's life. That was it, I thought to myself. After we closed that case, I sent her home, knowing that she wasn't fine. Hell, I wasn't fine.

Before our next shift, I went to her apartment, and she wasn't surprised to see me there. Before I could give her the chance to say that she was fine, I asked her to have dinner with me.

I almost jumped when she said a startled yes. That caught her by surprise.

Our first date was awful. We were on our way to a fancy restaurant when it started to rain. A lot. The traffic was impossible, and I got myself into a small car accident. I tried to solve that quickly, but it didn't happen. It was a small hit in the front of my car, but still a hit. I started to apologize as we got into my damn car once again, but Sara suddenly thought that the situation was incredibly funny. She was beautiful that night. Hell, she is beautiful. But that night, with her black dress, her hair going all curly because of the rain, laughing over our hell of a date… I hadn't seen such a beautiful image before.

We ended up grabbing drive-thru at McDonald's. She didn't seem to mind, as I remember her words when I walked her to her door.

"That was incredibly funny. We should do this more often." She said, smiling sweetly at me.

"We will." I assured her, smiling back. We agreed to take our relationship slow, so I didn't know what I was supposed to do that night.

Thankfully, Sara knew what to do. She turned around, kissed me, and said good-night. That simple. I was surprised by her kiss. It was brief, but it was the best kiss I ever received until that night. After that night, I didn't think I would ever forget the taste of her lips in my mouth.

With our strange schedule, it would be hard for us to get a mutual night off again, so our next date was in the day light. It turned out much better than the first one, and as we had more dates, we realized that there would be another next step soon.

But then Nick was kidnapped. We worked non-stop, all of us. The only personal thing that I can remember of Sara during those days was the look she gave me when she arrived at the explosion scene and she saw me with a paramedic. It looked like concern, relief, and I knew that deep inside her mind she was calling me stupid for risking so much.

Risking us.

When we found Nick, we went to see him at the hospital, and gave her a ride to her apartment. Without hesitating, she asked me in.

That was our first night together.

We got into our own routine after that. We would spend the day together, generally at my place, and then she would drive to work with her car and I would go soon after her with mine. I couldn't get my hands off her. Sara was an addiction, and I was addicted to her.

We had our first fight one afternoon, after a particular amazing lovemaking session.

"Good morning." I greeted her, as I woke up to find her dressing back in her clothes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm heading home." She answered, a little too dry to me.

"Why?" I asked. Spending the time in my place never made her go back home before shift, and I truly didn't understand what she was doing.

"You snored. A lot." She told me, obviously annoyed. "I didn't sleep a bit. I mean, this morning was wonderful, but I can't work tonight if I don't sleep a little"

"You are an insomniac. Why do you have to sleep today?" I asked, and the moment the words slipped out of my mouth I regretted them.

"Because I'm going to work all night. I'm sore, and I'm tired, and I just because I'm an insomniac, it doesn't mean that I don't sleep." She told me, shooting me a strange look.

"If I am suffocating you, you can say it."

"You're not suffocating me, Grissom! God, why do you have to be so…" she didn't finish her sentence. "I need to think, okay? Alone, by myself. Sometimes we need time to think, right?"

"I suppose. Do you want me to pick you up before work?"

"Why would you? We never go to work together", Sara said, and I knew she was getting more and more annoyed by me. "Listen, Grissom. I need… To breathe, okay?"

With that, she was out of the townhouse. I never thought we would get to the point of fight through nothing, but it was there. We barely spoke to each other that week. She asked for time, I gave her time. But then, we had that case where the husband and the wife slept in different bedrooms.

"Maybe one of them was snored, or had insomnia, or worked at nigh.s." Sara said.

"Or maybe they were suffocating each other, and he couldn't breathe." I said, and Sara stared at me for a while.

That morning, however, she appeared into my townhouse, storming that I shouldn't talk like that at a crime scene, asking if I regretted our relationship, and asking if I felt suffocated. I didn't. I asked her to move in with me that morning.

I never thought make-up sex would be that good.

We worked our relationship just fine, better than I thought it would be possible. We understood each other, at least most of the time. We moved in to a bigger place, because we happened to find out that my townhouse didn't have enough room for Sara's books and stuff, and we even got Hank at the same time.

Sara was always too good to me. She took care of me when I had migraines, and fed Hank when I forgot to. She understood me when I told her I was leaving for my sabbatical, even though we barely spoke to each other during the weeks I spent in New England.

When I realized Sara had been kidnapped, I didn't know what to do. I almost lost it when it started to rain and we had no idea where she was. I felt as if I was going to die if Sara did. When I saw that body in the desert, I couldn't believe it was Sara, and I was never so happy to find an unknown body.

When we heard Sofia on the radio, saying that they had found Sara, I almost cried. I believe I did when we were arriving at Desert Palms and Sara kept looking at me during the ride. She was bruised, she was hurt, and she almost died. She would have died if she wasn't so smart. But Sara never gave up.

I told her I loved her for the first time that day.

I thought things would be fine after she was recovered.

I was wrong.

I didn't want to see the signs, but I knew that she was slowly burning out. She saw the signs in me the previous year. She was quiet, she didn't laugh anymore. She wasn't happy with the job, she wasn't happy with the people. She wasn't Sara anymore.

So, when she wanted to go, I let her. She was gone, but it was the best for her. She didn't ask me to go with her because she knew I wouldn't. I wasn't ready to leave the lab.

We talked to each other, now and then. Sara basically didn't say much about herself, she always wanted to know about me, about Hank, about the team. Never about the cases, though. She straightened her relationship with her mother, and she was beginning to lose her ghosts. She wasn't ready to come back.

Then, Warrick died.

And she came back.

She knew I would need her. I did.

I asked for her to stay. She didn't.

When I received her video, I was completely lost. I wanted her to be happy, of course. She did look happy in the video. But I wanted to be happy, too. And I knew I would only be happy if I were with Sara.

I started to plan my leave a week after the video. I talked briefly to her, I had to know where she was. Our lasts conversations were embarrassed and sometimes even shallow. I didn't know what to say, and neither did she.

I was finally ready to leave the lab. But I would never be able to leave Sara.

When I found her in Costa Rica, my heart nearly stopped beating. She was so beautiful. She always is. She had her questions, and I surprised her when she heard that I was retired. If I wasn't already so in love with Sara, I know I would have fallen for her in Costa Rica.

We stayed there a couple of months, doing some research. There was a time when we both knew it was time to leave. Back to civilization. So, we got married and went on a two-month honeymoon. We visited the Egypt, France, Italy… Sara was radiant. I had never seen her so happy before. And I was happy because she was happy.

We came back to USA, but not to Vegas. I accepted a job as a professor at Berkeley. Sara was more than eager to come back to work, but not in the crime lab. Anyway, she will just have to wait a little, and she really doesn't mid doing so.

A distinctive noise wakes me up from my daydream, as Sara stirs slightly beside me, sleeping. She mumbled something incomprehensible. I looked at the clock; it's almost seven in the morning and the sun lights could be now seen through the curtains of their bedroom's windows.

"Go back to sleep, honey." I say to her, climbing out of the bed, briefly glancing at Sara's sleeping form.

I walk over the hall and into the nursery to see my infant daughter with tears in her eyes. She looked at me with her watery big blue eyes and smiled, as she got herself up in the crib, waiting for me to pick her up.

"Come on, ladybug." I pick her up, and she giggled with delight. I can't help but smile at her. She was so much like Sara in so many ways. "Someone decided to wake up early today, huh? Let's just be quiet and try not wake mommy, okay? Mommy is very tired."

Megan stared at me, slobbering a little. I grabbed a tissue and cleaned her chin, making her laugh. I could say she didn't need a new diaper, and if she wanted to be fed, she would be still crying for Sara. She smiled at me again, putting her tiny hands around my neck, but then pointing at something at the door.

"Ten months old and she has you wrapped around her little finger." Sara said, smiling, and walking towards me and Megan. "It's time for her to be fed."

"But she stopped crying." I told Sara, not really wanting to let go of my little ladybug.

"Yeah, but in about half an hour she will cry because she is hungry." My wife said, grabbing Megan and sitting in the comfy chair right beside our infant's crib. She was right, of course.

Motherhood did Sara a wonderful job. She laughed easily, and she wouldn't trade her time with me or Megan for nothing in the world. When we first found out we were having a baby, we were surprised, excited and scared. I never thought I would have a kid, especially at my age, but I then realized that Sara was still very young. It scared me when I thought that if something happened to me, Sara would be alone.

Megan is the perfect baby. She rarely cries, and when she does it sounds more like a whimper. When we found out we were having a girl, I instantly had the image of a small Sara running over our yard, playing with Hank and smiling that beautiful gap-toothed smile. I got what I wished: all I see in Megan's face is Sara's features. Except for her eyes. I'm still secretly waiting for her gap-toothed smile, though.

"Penny for your thoughts." Sara said, and once again my daydream was interrupted.

"Just thinking about my passion." I answered, smiling as my wife breastfeeds my little daughter. "You know, we should have another one."

"Another baby?" Sara asks, laughing a little. "Honey, we just had one."

"I know. We should have another one." I proposed, sitting in arm of the chair.

Sara looked at me intensely, as if I was supposed to yell "April 1st!"

"We can think about it. I mean, we should wait until Megan is about two or so, but then I'll be almost forty, and it's a little bit risky…" She started talking, and I kissed her full in the mouth. She smiled against me, as Megan was starting to roll her eyes, almost sleeping. "I was over talking again, wasn't I?"

"Yes, dear." I answered. "Just think about it, okay? My ladybug should have someone for her to play with."

"I suppose you're right." Sara sighed, smiling at me tenderly. "Well, you never cease to amaze me, Dr. Grissom. If I remember correctly, we didn't have to make any plans to have this one."

"You were very enthusiastic during our honeymoon, Mrs. Grissom." I teased, smiling.

"Me? You still can't get your hands off me." She teased me back, but then turned her attention to Megan, "Finished yet, young lady?"

I watch quietly as Sara, with a quick movement of hand, brought Megan upright and smoothed her own shirt. Megan giggled quietly, and threw herself into her mother's neck. I smile at the interaction between the two of them.

"We should have breakfast. We have a big day ahead of us, because we are taking someone to the beach!" Sara said, excited, looking at our baby, who squealed in delight as her mother smiled at her, mumbling some baby talk.

"Yeah, we still need to go pick your mom." I say, remembering our plans to go to East Beach that day. "Do you want me to go make some breakfast?"

"If you want to. Come on, baby girl, let's help daddy with breakfast!" Sara said to Megan, who reached her little arms to touch one of the butterflies in her room's wallpaper, while I was still in the door, entranced by the women in my life. "Yes, that's a butterfly. Daddy gave a cocoon for mommy once, did you know that? And mommy's favorite butterfly emerged from it."

I watched quietly as Megan paid attention to Sara as she was speaking. Sara turned at me, smiling brightly and then walking until she was in my side. I rested my back in the door, while Sara continued to talk with our baby.

"Did I say that I love you today?" I ask, and Sara stared at me, lovingly, as Megan played quietly with the buttons of Sara's pajama top.

"I believe you already did, last night." My wife said, smiling at me. "But I never tire of hear it."

"I love you. Both of you." I say, reaching out to grab Megan. I tickled her, and giggled happily.

"I love you, too. You make me happy." Sara said, kissing me as I put my free arm to rest on her waist. I smile at her words, and she kisses me once more before heading out of the room to the stairs. "Come on, we have a breakfast to prepare!"

I smile once again at my daughter and follow my wife through the stairs. After so many passions, I can't wait to have a next one.

A/N(2): So, how was it? Too bad? Just let me know your opinion! Don't be so mean, if it's too bad, I'll never write in english again.

xoxo

Ladybug