Spoilers: A few mild ones from early seasons, nothing too revealing.
Archive: Please ask first I might say yes.
Disclaimer: C.S.I. still not my property, sadly. Have borrowed for fun only and will return, tired but happy.
Author's Note: This idea came to me while listening to Dido's White Flag album. A song called 'Sand in my shoes' about a holiday romance really caught me by the throat as it perfectly described a situation I'm not going to elaborate upon:) Naturally, the first couple of C.S.I. sprung to mind when I thought of a romance not quite on the right road.
A HUGH thank you to all those of you that left reviews for The Visit, they were a wonderful surprise, especially as it was my first C.S.I. fic.
I have a Farscape fic (Crais' Tale) but couldn't figure out how to allow anonymous reviews so I had no real idea if I was doing okay or not. I hope this one passes muster... no pressure, really:) BTW, this prints to 32-ish pages.
Summary: Two workaholics sent on holiday, whether they like it or not.
Grissom walked briskly down the corridor to his office. It was a night like any other but he felt unsettled, as if there was something he'd forgotten to do. He reviewed his job list and failed to find anything new or forgotten. He passed the staff room and unconsciously noted who was present a half-hour before shift was due to start. He stopped suddenly and looked again. The staff room was empty. Where was Sara?
A frown passed over his face. It was unlike Sara not to be in by this time. He double-checked his watch. Yes, the wall clock was correct.
He resumed his journey to his room deep in thought. Where was she?
Grissom entered his office, walked around his desk and placed his briefcase on the floor beside it. He sat down in his chair and pulled his desk diary closer. A quick flick of one page showed the current date and staff rota. The diary confirmed that he was correct in the thought that Sara would be working tonight.
One finger tapped on his lips while he mentally reviewed their cases to try to deduce which Lab. Sara might be working in. He settled on the idea of Trace first and started to stand up. Then he sat back down heavily. As had become usual of late, he had started to question his motives for finding Sara. Did he need to see her now? Was it work related? Was it strictly necessary? If the answer to these internal questions was yes, then he would go and find her, secure in the knowledge that he had a proper reason to do so. As opposed to his improper reasons, where he simply wanted to be in the same room as her, basking in her presence.
For the umpteenth time he berated himself for turning down her dinner invitation. It had been a knee-jerk response to a situation that he had already discussed with himself and felt wholly unable to deal with. He had been honest when he admitted that he did not know what to do about their situation. It was wrong on more than one level - he was her supervisor, he was more than a decade older than she was, he was a loner who raced cockroaches for Chrissake. But it didn't feel wrong. He was attracted to her on more than one level, too. Physically, obviously, but also intellectually. They suited each other; even Brass could see it. Grissom was not unaware of the 'Geek mind meld' label that the others had nicknamed the way he and Sara seemed to read each other's mind when they worked a scene together. It had been one of those little stones Catherine had dropped into the conversational pond a while ago. It had panicked him into a backing off period that had confused and hurt Sara, which had not been his intention at all. He sighed heavily and returned his diary to its correct position on his desk.
"Ah, good, you're here. Not that I'm surprised, of course."
Catherine Willows breezed in to his office as if it were her own and placed a form on the desk in front of Grissom. She gave him a big smile and produced a pen with a flourish.
Grissom looked from the form to Catherine and back. He felt no more informed.
"Just sign it, pretty please."
"This is an application form for annual leave. Are you going on holiday?"
"Very good, yes it is, but no, it's not for me."
At Grissom's expression Catherine sighed theatrically and explained.
"A thought suddenly popped in to my head the other day while I was half asleep. You have five weeks of annual leave to use up. You can only carryover a week and you have only three months before the end of the leave year. You have to use your time off or lose it. Aah!"
She held up a hand to the protest already forming on his lips and continued.
"And before you say that you don't mind losing it, the H and S people are all over this leave thing."
"What do Health and Safety have to do with this?"
"Apparently we have a stressful job. We have to recharge our batteries so we can carry on. So sign already!"
Catherine gestured with the pen she was still holding and waited for him to take it.
Grissom re-read the form and took the proffered pen.
He signed the form and moved it to his pending paperwork tray.
"Oh no you don't, hand it over. I don't want it getting all 'accidentally' mislaid.
Grissom glared at Catherine's implication but handed over the form.
"Thank you. One down, one to go."
Catherine spun on her heel and headed for the door of Grissom's office.
"Who is the other one?" He asked her retreating back.
"You have to ask?" floated back through the open doorway.
Sara Sidle hurried to the locker room to stow her purse and get her labcoat on. She glanced again at her watch in the hope that she had misread it when she got out of her car downstairs. It had eaten away another three minutes. She gritted her teeth and managed not to growl aloud. Once again she cursed her alarm clock for failing to wake her at the correct time. She could not remember the last time that she had slept so deeply. She hated to be late. She was never late. She hated getting to work in a bad temper and being late did just that. She shut her locker with a little more force than was entirely necessary and straightened up. She inhaled deeply and exhaled, dropping her shoulders to relieve the tension. Calm. Okay.
Sara left the locker room and headed for the break room and some coffee, quite unaware that being only fifteen minutes early for work instead of an hour early was not actually classified as 'late'.
Sara had just poured herself a coffee when Catherine found her.
"Hi." Sara's response was as reserved as Catherine's was 'perky'.
Catherine did not think that this was a promising start, but she was made of sterner stuff and persevered.
"As you know, one of my admin areas of responsibility is the annual leave - "
Sara jumped in before Catherine could finish.
"I haven't booked any recently, so I can't have used too much."
Catherine raised an eyebrow and gave Sara the cool stare that normally had Greg running for cover.
"As I was about to say, you have not used enough. Use it or lose it, and losing it is not an option."
She placed the identical form to Grissom's on the table in front of Sara and handed her a pen.
"But I'm in the middle of a case!"
"I know. Your leave starts on Saturday, you have four days to finalise and/or hand over. Nick has just finished his case and is happy to help."
Sara ran through possible countermeasures and came up empty. She picked up the pen as if it were there to sign her own death warrant.
Sara glanced up at Catherine's face again. No help there. She scrawled her name.
"Christ, Sara, it's a holiday - not root canal work."
Catherine retrieved the form from the table and added it to Grissom's. She had expected more of a confrontation and was relieved that Sara had taken it as well as she had.
Sara, for her part, was thinking that so long as she had to be off she could use the time to catch up on her journals and research. Maybe do that paper on -
"Oh, and don't even think of staying at home. I want documentary proof that you are going away somewhere, to relax, and recharge your batteries."
Sara managed not to jump guiltily at Catherine's uncanny insight. Busted.
The following Sunday found Sara sitting in an aeroplane bound for Florida. She lay her seat back as soon as the sign had allowed it, put on her headphones and closed her eyes. That usually dissuaded people from trying to engage her in conversation. She was still smarting from the enforced holiday inflicted upon her and wasn't feeling sociable. She could hardly believe that she was going to Florida either. That was Catherine's fault too. She had come in to the lab. with a magazine money off voucher for a hotel in Fort Lauderdale. It was as good a place as any to be miserable in, so Sara had allowed Catherine to deal with the details.
Sara dozed for a while, more day dreaming than actually sleeping. Ever since that case of air rage and that amazing conversation with Grissom in an aeroplane toilet she hadn't been able to get on a plane without thinking of him. She smiled inwardly at the memory that had fuelled a few fantasies since then.
Not a million miles away, Grissom was checking in to his hotel. He had been surprised to discover that he had been upgraded to a double room, as there were no single rooms available for the duration of his stay. Apparently the voucher that Catherine had given him from her magazine had inspired so many people to take up the offer that the place was booked solid for a month. Ordinarily he would never have left his holiday booking to Catherine, but he had spotted a note about the opening of a new roller coaster about thirty miles from the hotel and thought that he'd give it a try.
Grissom followed his suitcases as they were taken to his room.
Once he was alone, Grissom had a cursory look around - one hotel being much like any other - then unpacked and left the room to go and check out the local restaurants.
Back in Vegas, Catherine was eating a sandwich in the break room. Not for the first time she was debating the wisdom of what she was trying to set in motion with Sara and Grissom. With some fancy footwork, she had managed to get them both booked into the same hotel but had them on different flights. She didn't want one of them hightailing it back here when they spotted the other. The atmosphere between Sara and Grissom had been very distant and tense lately, although they had been professional and correct it hadn't been in the old comfortable way, and something had got to give. It was make or break time.
By the time Sara had arrived at the hotel and checked in she had not felt like going out to eat. Despite her resolution to develop a social life and not resort to delivery take out food, she didn't think room service would kill her, just this once.
Without realising it Sara managed to avoid bumping in to Grissom the first evening.
The following morning they both had breakfast in their respective rooms and made plans for the day.
Grissom hired a car and planned his days out to cover as many as he could of the state's theme parks that had roller coasters.
Sara booked a coach trip to Cape Canaveral to see the tourist's eye view of the American space program. She thought about hiring a car for the day later in the week, perhaps to drive on Daytona Beach or visit the everglades.
That evening Sara got back to the hotel tired hot and hungry. A coach trip in the mid-ninety-degree heat with two squawky babies and a rash of tired bored toddlers did not, in retrospect, seem that clever a choice.
Just as she entered the hotel lobby she saw the elevator doors begin to close. She had glimpsed the back of a man going in so she called out.
"Hi, hold the doors please!"
A hand appeared and interrupted the door's closure and the doors opened again. In her haste to get inside Sara slipped on the marble floor and her purse flew out of her grasp and hit the back wall of the elevator. She managed to keep herself from following it by the unplanned but expedient collision with the unfortunate occupant of the elevator, who grunted in pain.
"God, I am so sorry I didn't - "
"It's okay, it's just the - "
They both spoke at the same time and then froze with astonishment, still in their bizarre embrace.
Sara stared into familiar blue eyes, unable to comprehend what was going on.
"What are you doing here?"
Grissom was equally baffled at Sara's presence but was already filling in the clues.
He looked at Sara and saw the moment that she put two and two together.
"Catherine." Grissom confirmed.
Both Sara and Grissom took a moment to try to imagine a suitable punishment for their colleague. Nothing legal sprung to mind and Sara was just getting creative with boiling oil when it dawned on her that she was still in Grissom's arms.
She was surprised that he had not let her go yet. Surely he had realised...?
Sara found herself in a quandary. She didn't want to do anything that would make Grissom let go. The doors had closed and the elevator begun its ascent. If she could just enjoy these few seconds up to her floor she would be a happy woman.
She kept her eyes down, avoiding eye contact. This meant looking at Grissom's shirt and the chest hairs peaking out at the V of the lapels. She could feel the warmth of his hands on her arm and back where he had caught and steadied her. A frisson of awareness tingled outwards from both points of contact and she could feel herself beginning to flush. Goosebumps raised on her arms and she felt her nipples peak under her T-shirt. She licked her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue and involuntarily glanced at Grissom's lips just scant inches away, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. God, he was so hot!
Grissom tried to be furious with Catherine for doing this to him. She really had no idea what she was meddling with. He needed to hang on to his fury so that he didn't give in to the impulse to hoist Sara over his shoulder and carry her off to his room.
The very idea was so foreign to his way of thinking that he almost laughed.
She didn't appear to be aware that he was still holding her, but then again she seemed unable to make eye contact, so maybe she was aware but was embarrassed by their proximity. He didn't want to make any move that would make Sara move away.
Grissom silently perused Sara's face and watched, entranced, as a delicate flush of colour spread across her cheeks. She looked beautiful. He followed the line of her jaw down to her neck and lower, belatedly realising that he was looking down at her breasts. His lips parted without conscious thought as he noticed that her nipples were standing proud. He was uncomfortably aware that he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. Just when he thought that he'd be okay, Grissom saw the tip of Sara's tongue peak out and wet her lips. The heat shot straight to his groin and all his excuses for remaining distant flew out of the window. All he could think about was kissing Sara.
They were in their own little world, their surroundings faded into the background. Each of them totally focused on the other's lips, an overwhelming desire to find out just what they were missing unconsciously drawing them together.
They were so close that Sara could feel Grissom's breath on her damp lips. Her eyes closed without conscious volition in preparation for their first kiss.
A distant part of Grissom's mind was noting that this was a lot easier than he thought it would be when he imagined their first kiss. He thought his doubts and fears would plague him but now that the moment had come he was unafraid. He was actually trembling with desire for Sara, a scant half inch away from his lips.
The lift chose that moment to 'ding' and announce that they were now on the third floor. The doors began to open.
Both Sara and Grissom jumped guiltily, their eyes flying open and seeing the shock on each other's faces. In other circumstances it would almost have been funny.
It was fortunate that there was no-one waiting for the lift as it took both of them several moments to pull themselves together.
Grissom took refuge in the obvious.
"Third floor. My... stop." He managed to stop himself saying 'room' or 'bed'.
"Third. Yes, me too. Figures."
Grissom nodded in agreement. Catherine had obviously booked the rooms at the same time.
Sara picked up her fallen purse, then turned right out of the elevator and was glad when Grissom turned the same way. They walked in silence, unable to think of anything to say.
What could be said? Neither of them could deny that something had nearly happened. Now that the momentum had been lost and they were aware of themselves neither of them could blame what might have happened next on just being 'swept away'.
Grissom stopped first and indicated a door on his right.
All his excuses were back in charge. He had no choice but to tell himself that Sara was off limits.
Sara pointed to a door ahead on the left. She didn't say anything for a moment, and the silence dragged on.
"Wanna coffee?" she blurted in the end.
Grissom looked Sara in the eyes and died a little inside. Even as his body was going 'YES!' his brain was forming the words.
"Nothing has changed, Sara. We are still who we were an hour ago. We have to work together and I'm still your supervisor."
"It's only coffee, Grissom, not a lifelong commitment."
But Sara's gaze had dropped to the floor, unwilling to see the second rejection coming.
"I can't think of you in terms of 'only' or as someone to be taken lightly. You are so much more than that. You scare me, Sara. You are committed and passionate, you throw yourself wholeheartedly in to everything you do and I know that you would do that with us. And I don't see - I can't see - that I... would be enough for you."
Sara's head snapped up at that and she angrily wiped tears from her cheeks.
"Not enough? Are you kidding me? Tell me that you feel nothing for me; tell me that you were not touched in any way back there and I'll go without a backward glance! I won't bother you again. But be honest with me! Because I did feel something, and I'm willing to take a chance on where it goes. At least I'd know that I tried!"
Grissom could not utter the lie. He could not tell her that he felt nothing.
Let her make of that what she will.
Sara turned without another word, unlocked her door and entered her room. She slammed the door behind her. She did not see Grissom walk slowly up to her door and place the flat of his left hand on the door's surface. His grief was palpable.
Inside her room, Sara kicked the wastepaper basket and watched it hit the bed with a dull thud then bounce off the other side. She was so angry. Angry with herself, with Grissom, with everything that was keeping them apart. She knew in her gut that the two of them could continue to work together without prejudice if they were 'together', she just could not get him to realise it. As for that bullshit about not being enough for her, oh puhleeze!
She sat down on the end of her bed, hot, tired, angry and still aroused, even now. She stood abruptly and stripped off, walking into the bathroom.
She did some of her best plotting in the shower.
Grissom had also returned to his room and gone straight for the shower. He felt numb and cold. He had hurt Sara again and yet again it was his desire not to hurt her that had held him back. Was she right? Was he fooling himself? When had he got so scared that he couldn't let anyone get close? Sara would not keep trying forever; she had already warned him that by the time he figured it out, it might be too late. How did he feel about someone else with Sara? The sharp pang of pain that went through him surprised him with its intensity.
Grissom dressed in clean clothes and combed his damp hair. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to see himself, as Sara appeared to see him. Desirable.
He was still standing there when there was a knock on his door. Grissom looked at his watch, surprised to see that he'd been in his room for nearly an hour.
He crossed the room and opened the door.
Sara stood outside the room. Grissom was struck dumb momentarily. She looked fabulous. His gaze travelled from her face to her toes and back again. Her calf length dress of plum crushed silk was obviously a designer label, a spaghetti strap bodice fitted to the waist, it flared out and lovingly caressed Sara's hips and thighs in a fashion that made him want to do the same.
Sara smiled widely. The obscene amount she had paid for this dress had been worth it just for the look on his face.
God, was that croaky voice his? Grissom cleared his throat.
"You look very nice." He managed.
"Thank you." Sara held out her hand for a handshake and the dazed Grissom had taken the hand before he could stop himself.
"What...?" He began.
"I'm sorry. When we collided in the lift I failed to introduce myself. I'm Sara Smith. I'm from out of state and I'm only going to be here for ten days."
Grissom wondered for a split second if he'd slipped in the shower and this scene was an aspect of his concussion.
Then the realisation hit him.
What was it he had he said?
'We are still who we were an hour ago'.
She was giving him a loophole if he wanted to take it. Ten days.
Suddenly he remembered something he'd read on a greeting card recently; 'If you don't jump you may never learn to fly'.
Only seconds had passed and Sara's hand was still in his. Could he set aside everything that kept him from Sara for ten days? Would he be capable of going back to what they had - or hadn't had - before?
He looked searchingly in to Sara's eyes and decided to jump.
"Hello," he said eventually, "I'm Gil... Jones. I'm also from out of state and here for ten days. I am pleased to meet you, Miss Smith."
Sara's smile had got even bigger with her relief that he was playing along.
"Likewise, and please, call me Sara."
Her eyes sparkled with delight and Grissom was glad he'd jumped.
"Only if you call me Griss - it's a nickname." He explained with a wry grin.
"Sure." Sara smiled and squeezed his hand gently.
To her surprised delight Grissom brought her hand to his lips and kissed its back.
"I think that you and I should have dinner together this evening. You and your outfit are far too beautiful to deny others less fortunate a glimpse."
He had surprised her a second time. She never figured he'd be so smooth. Whenever she had fantasised about this sort of moment, somehow she always imagined that she would be doing the chasing. In the space of a few seconds he'd kissed her hand, given her a compliment and asked her out for a meal. It looked like the next ten days would be one hell of a ride.
"Dinner would be lovely, I'd like that."
Grissom collected his wallet and keycard then turned the room lights off. He pulled the door shut behind him and gestured an 'after you' to Sara. She preceded him to the lift and he enjoyed the luxury of watching her walk.
Sara could feel him watching her and added a subtle sway to her hips. He made her feel feminine and desirable. It was heady stuff. They both knew how the evening was going to end and this meal was already qualifying as foreplay.
They went straight to the hotel restaurant without having a drink first. Within ten minutes they had a bottle of wine open and their meals ordered. By mutual consent they talked about anything but their work. They maintained the fiction of their alternate lives by inventing outrageous life stories. There was much laughter and they both realised that they had missed this aspect of their friendship.
Throughout the meal they flirted with each other. They often touched each other on the hand or the arm. They tried some of each other's dishes, feeding each other and sending hot glances across the table.
Sara picked up a big strawberry by its stalk and brought it to her lips. She could see that she had Grissom's undivided attention. She slowly licked a spot of cream off the bottom of the fruit, swirling her tongue around it, before biting it in half.
"Mmm, this is delicious. Would you like some?" Sara asked not so innocently.
Grissom's fork hadn't moved since she picked up the fruit. He looked amused and his lips twitched, obviously holding back what he really wanted to say.
"It does look very nice, but so does your cream. I'd like a taste of that, especially as I can see you have some on your finger."
Sara looked down at her clean fingers and bit back a grin.
"So I have. How careless of me."
Her eyes met his and without breaking eye contact she dipped her finger into the whipped cream and lifted it to Grissom's mouth.
He leaned forward and held her hand in his, then took both the cream and Sara's finger in to his mouth. His tongue thoroughly cleaned off any trace of the cream and by the time he had finished Sara thought that she would melt in to a puddle at his feet. Grissom allowed the finger to leave his mouth with obvious reluctance.
"That was lovely."
His whole demeanour implied that he wasn't talking about food. Sara had been on a slow burn throughout the meal and Grissom had just turned up the heat.
She smiled wickedly back as she picked up the last strawberry and dipped it into the whipped cream. Grissom was totally focused on her and his lips parted as he waited to see what Sara was going to do with the strawberry. She brought it to her lips and slowly slid it halfway into her mouth, removing some of the cream, then she drew it back out slightly as if she had changed her mind about eating it, then pushed it back between her lips.
The symbolism was not lost on Grissom.
He was quite certain that his pulse was raised now and it wasn't the only thing; the idea of Sara's lips on him made him instantly hard. He was aware that the time was rapidly approaching when they should leave the table and take this somewhere a little more private.
He caught a waiter's attention - which wasn't difficult as he suspected several people had been watching them surreptitiously - and quietly asked for the bill.
While Sara finished her glass of wine he signed for the meal at the table, grateful that he didn't have to stand for a minute. He took time to finish his own glass of wine.
Sara wondered at the obvious delaying tactic until it occurred to her what the problem was. She was both flattered and amused.
"Shall we go?" she asked cheekily.
Grissom chided her with his glance and she grinned back, unrepentant.
He stood up and pulled her chair out for her. Now that he had made the conscious decision to pursue this course he was unashamed of his desire for her. If she didn't mind then neither did he. They left the restaurant and headed for the elevator.
As they waited for it to arrive, Sara slipped her hand in Grissom's and was pleased when he took it. He looked at her as if memorising this moment in time.
The elevator 'dinged' its arrival and they both looked fleetingly amused as they entered. Grissom pressed the button for the third floor with his free hand. He looked back at Sara, then down at their joined hands as if he couldn't quite believe it was real. He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of her hand, marvelling at both the strength and softness.
They left the lift and walked to Grissom's room. They didn't speak; there was no need.
Grissom used his keycard to open the door to his room, switched on the small wall lights, and then allowed Sara to enter the room first.
He watched, amused, as she unconsciously did her usual 'crime scene scan'.
"A double, huh?" she said as she walked over to the drapes and closed them.
"Fortuitous fate. I don't think even Catherine would have dared to presume to book a double."
Grissom had turned from his observation of Sara to place his keys and wallet on the table. Now that they were actually back in his room he felt a little awkward about the next step. It felt too planned and unspontaneous, yet in the lift earlier and downstairs in the restaurant it had seemed effortless. He wondered what to do to restore that ease, perhaps -
At that moment Grissom felt one of Sara's hands slide over his shoulder and the other go around his waist from behind. She rested her head on the back of his right shoulder and hugged him. His heart skipped a beat.
"Hey." She greeted softly.
Grissom turned around to face her and wondered why he'd been concerned.
He framed her face with both hands and gently ran one thumb over her bottom lip. Tingling warmth spread through his hands to the rest of his body.
"Hey yourself." He whispered, hoping his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt.
Sara's lips curved in a smile as she slid both arms up around his neck and leaned in to him. Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips.
He slid both of his arms around her body, his hands on the firm cheeks of her bottom. He pulled her hard against him, feeling electrified at the contact. His arousal had returned in full force and he wanted her to know the effect that she had on him.
It was as if a switch had been flipped. Suddenly all thoughts of 'softly' or 'slowly' had flown out of the window. Their lips finally met in a crushing kiss. Neither of them knew who made the first move and they didn't care. There was no conscious decision about next steps or planned moves; they were on the ride of their lives and barely hanging on.
Grissom deepened the kiss and Sara opened to him eagerly. She clutched at his neck, his shoulders, anything she could reach. Without removing her lips from his she loosened the knot of his tie and pulled the tie off, dropping it on the floor. She undid some buttons and pulled at others, then tugged at his shirt, parting it from his pants so that she could slide her hands under the material and feel his warm flesh.
Grissom was overwhelmed by the feelings rushing through him. He knew that it would be fantastic kissing Sara but he didn't realised just how amazing it would be. He kissed, he nibbled, he licked and tasted a path over her exposed flesh. He returned to her lips for another jolt of heaven. They were of one mind in their frantic exploration of each other, both having wanted this for so long. He ran his hands up her arms and encountered the small straps to the bodice. He slid his fingers under the thin material and slid them down and off her shoulders. He marvelled at the soft smooth skin under his palms.
He broke off the kiss, both of them panting with the need for air and each other. His lips moved to her neck and he heard a moan when he made contact. He bit down gently, tasting her skin then soothing it with his tongue. His hands sought the back of the dress, searching for the zip. Gratefully he pulled the little metal tab down as far as it would go. The dress loosened and slid part way off.
Sara was frantic with need. Everywhere Grissom touched her sizzled with sexual energy and she wanted to throw him on the bed and just take him. She had never felt anything like this driving hunger to possess with anyone else. She wanted to mark him as hers, to warn off anyone else. To brand him even as his lips branded her, trailing liquid heat down her neck and across her shoulders.
She felt the dress give way when Grissom found the zip and she eagerly slid the spaghetti straps down her arms and off, leaving herself bare to the hips.
Grissom thought his heart would stop when he saw Sara's breasts. He eagerly bent to take a nipple in to his mouth, teasing it to a peak with his tongue, while his hand caressed the other breast.
Sara's arousal shot up when Grissom's lips closed over her breast. One of her hands threaded into his hair, the other arm slid over his shoulder, holding him to her.
Grissom transferred his mouth to Sara's other breast, giving it the same homage as the first. He tightened both arms around her thighs and when he straightened up he lifted her up against him. He looked up at her and slowly slid her back down his body, the friction against their bodies igniting fires under their skin. His prominent erection rubbed delightfully as the juncture of her thighs met it on the way down. By the time Sara's feet hit the ground their lips were together again, open mouthed hungry kisses that fought and duelled, each trying to get closer to the other.
Sara felt Grissom's knee push its way between her legs, parting them. The now-taut hem of her dress prevented him from gaining the access he wanted and he impatiently brought his right hand up underneath the hem, running his fingers along the fine mesh of Sara's tights.
Sara felt his shocked surprise when his hand encountered the stocking top and he pulled back from her with delight. She grinned at his obvious approval.
Grissom ran both hands up Sara's thighs and carried the dress with them, not stopping at her waist but carrying on until he had lifted the whole thing over her head and off. Without taking his eyes off Sara he flung it in the rough direction of the chair by the window. She was now before him clad only in stockings and a matching plum coloured suspender belt and panties. Grissom licked suddenly dry lips and wondered if he'd last more than two more seconds.
Sara ran her hands up his uncovered chest, her nails scratching lightly through his chest hair and she felt him shudder under her fingertips. She slid her hands up underneath the open shirt to his shoulders and pushed the shirt off and down his arms. She leaned into him, her sensitised breasts brushing against the coarse hair, and breathed in the scent of him. Her lips found the hollow of his throat and her tongue dipped in to taste him. She heard him gasp and she smiled inwardly as she felt his arms tighten around her.
Grissom again nudged Sara's legs apart with his leg, his right hand running over her toned ass and around to the front where he cupped the front of her panties. She gasped and pushed against his probing fingers.
He stroked her through the damp lace for long minutes, marvelling at the moist heat of her arousal. Her hips rocked rhythmically against his hand and he slid a finger under the lace and into her heat.
"Oh, God yes...!" Sara gasped, surging against him.
She leaned against Grissom, her legs trembling and unable to take her weight under his onslaught to her senses. He supported her with one arm and added a second finger to the first. He pumped deliberately, slow, and deep. Each time he pushed in, his thumb brushed against her clitoris. He watched her face as he worked, vicariously enjoying her pleasure.
Sara's world had shrunk to Grissom's hand between her legs. She was focused only on him and the magic he was creating with his clever fingers. She felt the electrifying buzz that pre-empted orgasm, the wash of sensation starting in her extremities and moving to the centre of her body in delicious waves.
Grissom felt the change in Sara as she tightened inside and unconsciously altered the angle of her hips. He kept up the pressure and continued to stroke her firmly. Despite the intense pleasure of her hip moving against his arousal, he kept his eyes open, wanting to see her face as she came.
Moments later Sara' s hands gripped Grissom's shoulders convulsively and she stiffened in his embrace. Her eyes flew open and she came apart in his arms, crying out in ecstasy.
He held her tight and continued to move his fingers gently until she had stopped pulsing, then he gently withdrew.
Sara covered Grissom with kisses and hugged him to her in delight, her eyes shining.
"That was glorious, thank you thank you."
Grissom smiled as he picked her up and she wrapped her long legs around his waist. Her arms went around his neck and she kissed his head. He walked over to the bed and tried to drop Sara on it, but she laughingly hung on to him and they fell together on to it, Sara underneath Grissom.
Sara was already undoing his belt and pant's zipper and within moments her hand had deftly gained access to the contents of his boxers. Grissom jumped when her warm hand closed over him and he thanked whatever Gods were listening that he didn't come there and then. He managed to shuck off his pants, albeit inside out, and chucked them vaguely in the same direction that Sara's dress had gone.
Grissom lay Sara back on the pillows, removing her hand from him in the process and incurring her 'Aww!' of dismay. He laughingly told her to be patient. He moved to her hips, hooked his thumbs under the elastic of her panties and slid them down and off her legs, kissing as he went. She was throbbing by the time he finished but she wanted his pleasure next.
He looked up the bed to her from his position at the end.
"Finesse me later - fuck me now!"
Grissom was shocked at the jolt of heat that the words shot to his groin and his arousal pulsed in anticipation. He moved quickly up the bed between her eagerly spread legs and moved firmly over her, taking his weight on his forearms. Sara took hold of him and guided him to her. She was wet and ready for him, the scent of her intoxicating him and drawing him in. Without a moments pause he plunged into her, fully buried to the hilt in the one stroke. They both groaned with pleasure at the sensations flooding over them. Grissom froze, looking at the bliss on Sara's face. He had denied them this for so long that he wanted to weep with the joy of finally coming home.
Sara's eyes opened to find out why he'd stopped. What she saw in his eyes made her realise that they could never go back to the way things had been. He loved her just as she loved him - totally. She smiled serenely and stroked his dear face.
Then her smile turned wicked and she bucked her hips up to his and he was lost. He pulled nearly all the way out and jammed himself back in, thrusting hard. He slid his hands beneath her shoulders to hold her steady as he pumped in to her with increasing force. Her silky warmth clung to him, caressed him even as her hands caressed his back, her nails lightly scratching across his shoulders. They were both panting, their kisses more intermittent. Sara's legs were wrapped around Grissom's as she strained to get herself closer to him. Grissom begun thrusting harder and faster in to her eager body, frantic with need, desperate to achieve completion. He buried his face into her neck as he pounded in to her and she met him on every stroke.
All that mattered to Sara at this moment was that Grissom was deep in her body. This joy was removing all the pain of the past, making them new and whole. As he moved within her she marvelled that they were here at all, this was Grissom with her. Grissom. Oh God, it was Grissom! Just his name was enough to make her throb. To her surprise she could feel the stirrings of another orgasm and she allowed it to flow through her, tightening her grip on him. Within moments she stiffened under him, crying out inarticulately, her fingers digging into his back.
It sent him over the edge and he exploded within Sara, surging and thrusting until he was spent.
He shuddered with delight, his eyes closing as delicious lethargy spread through him. He collapsed gratefully on to Sara, remaining joined with her. After a few moments he moved to take some of his weight on his left forearm. He looked at Sara beneath his chest and could barely believe that it wasn't a dream and that she was really here. Just to make sure she that she was, he leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back and then smiled up at him as they caught their breath.
"Usually when I have this dream I wake up just before the best bit."
Grissom laughed, he couldn't help it. He rested his head on his left fist and moved a strand of dark hair from Sara's cheek with his other hand.
"This is the best dream I've ever had."
"Me too." Sara ran her palms lazily up and down Grissom's back, content just to be.
He studied her, just for the simple pleasure of being able to. She understood without the words and didn't feel uncomfortable. She yawned discreetly.
"Mmm, yeah. Kinda. But I feel like I don't want to waste time sleeping."
Grissom smiled at the very 'Sara' comment. He turned slightly to lie on his left side and brought her with him so that they lay facing each other. He wrapped her loosely in his embrace.
"It's not a waste of time to sleep. I have a strenuous day planned for tomorrow and you'll need your rest."
Sara looked inquiringly at him as she snuggled closer, nearly sleep.
"Where are we going?"
Grissom smirked as he leaned over and put out the lights.
"Who said that we're going anywhere?"
Sara surfaced from a deep restful sleep and blinked owlishly at the light filtering through the drapes. For an instant she wondered why the window was on the wrong side of the room until she realised that she wasn't in her room. She was in Grissom's room.
Naked Grissom also had his arm draped across her waist.
'Well, try and wipe the grin off my face, why doncha.' Sara thought, smiling widely.
She lay quietly, her mind going over last night. It had been fantastic, as she had always thought it would be. She refused to be sorry about it happening. She had eight days left and she was going to darn well enjoy them. It was shaping up to be the best holiday in an age. She felt like a kid in a candy store.
Grissom's arm tightened around her waist and pulled her back against his front. He still appeared to be asleep, so Sara closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. She was aware, however, that she was unable to get rid of the grin.
Grissom thought he was dead.
He figured he must be because he'd woken up with Sara in his arms and that sure seemed like heaven to him.
He lay unmoving but relaxed for a while, simply enjoying the pleasure it brought him to be with Sara. He resolutely pushed aside any thoughts about whether or not they should be here together. They were; fait accompli.
They were spooned together, Grissom behind Sara, with his right arm around Sara's waist. His right hand was clasped in Sara's left, their fingers threaded together.
Grissom could smell the fresh lemony scent of Sara's hair and the perfume that lingered from last night. He wished that he could see her face while she slept but didn't want to wake her up by moving just yet. He'd save that treat for later.
Sara stirred in her sleep, wriggling against him and pulled his arm closer.
Grissom had been half hard just lying still, now his arousal was firmly nestled between the cheeks of her bottom.
He was still debating what to do when Sara turned her head and smiled drowsily at him.
"Well, that brings new meaning to the words 'rise and shine'."
Grissom's straightfaced expression was at odds with the laughter in his eyes.
"Don't blame me, it's your fault."
"Me? What'd I do?"
"Don't try that innocent look, it won't work. You wilfully provoked me with your body. It was contributory negligence. You bear some of the responsibility."
Sara had turned to face Grissom, and now lay on her right side, within his arms.
"I do, huh?"
She ran her hand deliberately across his chest, light enough to tickle.
Grissom was finding it difficult to concentrate with her hand on his body.
"I guess I'd better fix it then."
With that, Sara pushed Grissom over on to his back, straddled his thighs and took him in hand. She grinned down at him, unashamedly naked. The look on his face was balm to her soul.
They missed breakfast.
It was late afternoon by the time the temporarily sated couple surfaced from the hotel room. Light-headedness and grumbling stomachs were not the ideal post coital accompaniments. The ever-practical Grissom had pointed out that housekeeping probably wanted to get into the room too.
They found a restaurant that did vegetarian food and stayed for an hour or so. They were both secretly surprised at how at ease they were with each other. Sara had thought that Grissom would be a little embarrassed about their new status as lovers, but once he had made his mind up he went in one hundred and ten percent.
Grissom had once admired Sara's capacity for compartmentalisation; he understood it because he did it with his professional life and his private life. With her 'ten day Ms. Smith program' she had hit on the one method that had had any chance of success with him; the offer to completely separate this time from the other part of their lives. He could, for this short time, suspend his disbelief and live the fantasy. He would be Mr. Jones and when they returned to Vegas, Gil Grissom would be back and things would go on as before.
The sad thing was he actually believed it.
When they left the restaurant, they strolled along the beachfront. Grissom took Sara's hand in his as they walked and she couldn't help trying to memorise the moment so that she'd have something to recall when reality returned in Vegas.
She pushed away the pang of sadness that accompanied the thought of the end of their holiday, determined to enjoy the time that they had together.
They talked about a variety of subjects but steered clear of anything that would touch on their real world. They found themselves finishing each other's sentences, often with laughter at the similarity of their thought processes. Sometimes they didn't have to talk at all; just the expression on the other's face would convey everything.
Grissom hadn't realised how much energy he had put into avoiding Sara at work and now that he didn't have to that he found that he could relax properly. It was like the old days together, effortless. He found himself wishing that this new-found sense of ease would stay with them after their return to work.
He turned his head slightly so that he could see her profile. She had a half smile on her face and he wondered what she was thinking. He watched her hair move gently in the breeze and remembered how silky it felt under his hand. He followed the curve of her neck to line of her jaw and knew what it felt like to kiss her there. Before he realised what was happening he found he was becoming aroused. He wanted her again already. She made him feel like a randy teenager.
Sara stopped walking and turned to Grissom.
"I've just realised that I can't remember what the wallpaper in your room is like."
Grissom looked thoughtful, then apologetic.
"I'm afraid I can't help you. I guess we're gonna have to go back and find out."
Sara sounded almost nonchalant to Grissom until he looked in to her eyes and saw that she was anything but. It looked like he wasn't the only randy teenager.
They made it back to the hotel in half the time it had taken them to get where they were.
They had the elevator to themselves.
The second that the doors closed they were all over each other. Sara had both arms around Grissom's neck, one of her hands pulling his head down to her frantic kiss. He had picked her up and had her pinned up against the wall with his body, one of his legs thrust between hers, his thigh causing delicious pressure against her.
When Grissom tore his mouth from hers and went for her neck, Sara was astonished to see this wild-eyed wanton in the mirror facing her. She hardly recognised herself or the strength of her desire coursing through her body.
"I want you hard inside me, now!"
Despite the sexual jolt her words gave him, Grissom felt a glimmer of sanity peek through his arousal.
"Not here, no time. Just a few seconds - wait!"
This last in response to Sara as she tugged on his belt with one hand while running her other over his erection through the pants material. He managed to get her hands in his just as they stopped at the third floor and the doors opened. Fortunately there was no one to see their hasty exit as he towed a giggling Sara back to his room.
Grissom managed to get them both inside before anyone saw them fumbling with his keycard. The door had barely closed when Sara grabbed him and pulled him over to the desk in front of the big picture mirror. The mirror in the lift had given her an idea.
With her back to the desk she faced Grissom and kissed him deeply. They were soon back up to where they had left off, but Grissom was puzzled when Sara turned away from him but then backed herself against him. He was about to ask what was going on when he looked up and caught her eyes in the mirror. He caught on fast.
Grissom quickly slid both of his hands down Sara's arms as she stood in front of him. He stopped at her wrists and moved her hands to the desk so that she was leaning forward, her ass pressing back into his erection. He was leaning over, pressed against her body. He used one hand to move Sara's hair to gain access to her neck and kissed her spine above her shirt collar. He felt her shudder and glanced in the mirror. Sara's eyes met his and fire met fire.
"I want you inside me."
She knew that she was more than ready for him, and he certainly felt ready to her.
"I never argue with a lady."
Grissom quickly used his left hand to lift up Sara's skirt and pull down her panties while his other hand freed himself. He moved slightly forward, lining himself up and then looked into the mirror. As soon as their eyes met he rammed himself into her, rocking her forward with the force of it. She pushed back against him in time with his thrusts, and soon they were both grunting in pleasure at the rapidly building pressure within them. Grissom tugged open Sara's shirt, exposing her bra-less breasts; he moved his hands to cup them and watched the ecstatic expression on Sara's face as he held her tight.
"Honey... that feels... so good!"
Sara's words were spaced between Grissom's thrusts.
Grissom was amazed she was capable of speech because he didn't think he was. He wanted to tell her that she was amazing, that she turned him on like no one had ever done before, that she was hot and tight and incredible but he couldn't because he suspected that all he would manage would be moans of pleasure.
Grissom's gaze flicked back and forth between Sara's reflection and where they were joined, watching himself slide rapidly in and out of her body. Both were an incredible turn on and he felt elemental. He transferred his hands to Sara's hips to brace her as he picked up the pace. Soon he was slamming in to her as she pushed back to meet him.
Sara's eyes kept closing in ecstasy only to open again because she wanted to watch Grissom in the mirror. She'd never done this in this way before but boy, did it push her buttons. And it was definitely doing it for Griss. This was the Grissom that she had fantasised about but never expected to see, a man losing control and taken with passion.
Then Sara ceased to think, reduced to mindless instinct, taken and taking. They strained against each other; harder and faster until finally it was too much and Sara climaxed in an explosion of sensation that left her dizzy. As she cried out her muscles clamped down on Grissom and his climax followed immediately upon hers, filling her with his seed until he was drained in every sense of the word.
When the red haze had cleared and he could see again, Grissom's legs were shaking with the effort of keeping him and Sara upright. They were both gasping for breath.
Finally Sara's head came up and they could see each other's face in the mirror.
"That was... Jeez... I can't think. Freakin' amazing."
Grissom nodded, wiping the sweat out of his eyes, not sure he had enough air for speech yet. He had the very un-PC urge to fall on the bed and sleep for a week.
Sara straightened after a minute or two and reluctantly separated from Grissom. She turned around within his arms to smile up at him.
"Awesome." She placed the flat of her hand on his chest, feeling his heart still racing. " It's never been like that for me."
Sara had to fight the urge to tell Grissom that she loved him and only him and that there would never be anyone else who could touch her the way that he had.
Grissom had never experienced anything like this intensity before, this transcended anything in his past experience.
"Awesome." He tested the word on his tongue and nodded again. "Yes, I think that covers it nicely."
Sara dragged Grissom to the newly made bed.
"I need a nap. And you're far too polite to admit you want one too, so get in."
At Grissom's meek tone, Sara started to laugh as she stripped off.
"Pack that in."
Grissom had shed his remaining clothes and got in the bed. He held the cover up for Sara to get in. She did so and moved straight into his arms, still smiling. They settled comfortably. After a few moments, Sara looked up at Grissom, whose eyes were closed.
He smiled without opening his eyes.
"I thought so."
Sara looked at the suitcases on the bed and could not believe where the time had gone. It seemed like only yesterday that she was unpacking for the second time on the holiday. On the fourth day she had checked out of her room and transferred her stuff to Grissom's room at his suggestion. She had been astonished but had hopefully hidden it from him better than she had with his 'beauty' comment at the ice rink. It was a major undertaking from him, sharing his personal space, but she tried not to read too much into it.
They had occasionally referred to each other as Ms. Smith and Mr. Jones, almost as if to remind themselves that their 'situation' wasn't real.
They were booked on the same flight tomorrow, a Saturday. It would give them chance to settle back in to their real lives before work on Monday night.
Sara rearranged her shoes in her case and resisted the urge to stick something of hers in Grissom's case so that he'd have to give it back to her. She knew he'd see through that ploy in a heartbeat and she didn't want to spoil what they'd had. She was under no illusion that Grissom would not be able to keep to his side of the agreement, but she was unsure of her own ability. Before, she had only her imagination to supply her fantasy, now she had memories and real images. It would be so much harder now.
Grissom silently padded out of the en-suite behind Sara, a towel around his waist, another one around his neck as he dried his wet hair. Even from the back he could sense something was wrong.
"Yeah, sure. I can never understand how it all fit when I left, but the same stuff doesn't fit on the way home. I haven't bought anything extra."
Grissom stopped towelling for a moment. He knew that wasn't the real problem.
"If you're stuck, put some in my case."
He resumed towelling and so did not see Sara's reaction to that statement. If she was not going to tell him what the real problem was, then it must involve an area that they'd agreed not to discuss.
Sara was sure that her jaw had hit the deck. Ohmigod! Did he have any clue what he had just said? Or did it not have any significance other than practicality to him?
She hoped that sounded just the correct amount of 'casual'.
"What do you want to do to-day?"
Grissom's enquiry came as he collected clean underwear.
"I don't mind, but I would like to walk along the beach at least once before we go back. Apart from that I'm yours."
Sara absently jammed in another T-shirt mainly to stop her hands from shaking. She was very aware of Grissom standing behind her.
He sounded odd. Sort of amused but curious.
Sara looked over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.
"Oh yeah, honey, anytime."
"In the interests of actually getting out of this room, I shall ignore the obvious in that comment."
Grissom smirked as he shrugged into his T-shirt and reached for his pants.
"Catch you later."
"More than likely."
Grissom sounded like he was looking forward to it. He came up behind Sara and put his arms around her waist. She rested her arms on his and leaned back against his chest. She felt his lips briefly on the back of her neck beside her ponytail. It wasn't a signal of sexual intent rather the kind of kiss established couples have that state 'I'm glad that you are with me'. Sara's eyes closed quickly against the sudden sting of tears and she willed them away. She had composed herself by the time Grissom let her go to help her lift the open cases flat on to the floor.
Time to go and enjoy their last full day.
They visited Silver Springs and had a ride on a glass bottom boat, marvelling at the clarity of the water. It was no wonder that a lot of the underwater movies were filmed there.
Sara purchased a few things for the guys at work, souvenirs to let them know that she had thought of them at least once while away. She did not mention work to Grissom, not wanting to remind him of their 'other life'.
They drove back to the hotel and returned the hire car late in the afternoon.
After their evening meal they carried their shoes and walked along the beach for a while, just enjoying the cool breeze coming in off the sea and the sound of the waves on the sand. It was their last night together and they wanted to make the most of it.
When they returned later to their room, their lovemaking was a quieter, more tender tribute to each other than anything before. When they finally fell asleep, their arms, legs, even fingers were intertwined as if they couldn't bear to let the other go.
Some time in the early hours of the morning, while it was still dark, Sara woke briefly, finding herself spooned to Grissom's back. She softly kissed his back and lay her cheek against him. In the dark she murmured quietly,
"I love you, Gil Grissom, but I set you free."
She closed her eyes and slipped back into sleep, glad she had told him just once, even if he'd never know.
Grissom opened his eyes.
Breakfast was a subdued affair, neither of them had much appetite.
They checked out of the hotel and took a taxi to the airport. Ironically every aspect of the journey went smoothly despite the fact that Sara wanted to be delayed and before they knew it they were seated in the non-smoking section of the plane.
As usual, the minute she was on a plane, Sara thought about THAT conversation. After about ten minute of fidgeting, she could stand the suspense no longer.
"Was there really an article in the Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Science magazine?"
Grissom looked up from reading the 'how to escape if you haven't died on impact' instructions. He had no trouble remembering which article Sara was referring to and his lips twitched sideways as he tried not to smile.
"I offered to get you a subscription, did I not?"
"Mmm." Sara turned her head to look at Grissom in his seat.
He was looking over his glasses at her with a distinct gleam in his eyes. Was this Mr. Jones or was Grissom back? Sara wasn't certain she wanted to find out just yet. Luckily she was spared having to as the pilot chose that moment to turn on to the runway and the cabin staff began their safety piece.
It wasn't until later, after the meal, that Sara got her answer.
"I need your help Sara."
Startled, Sara looked up from her magazine into Grissom's blue eyes.
"Sure. What's up?"
"I need to gather some data."
Something about the way he said it made Sara's heart start to beat faster.
"Yes. Back up information about altitude and ... euphoric states."
Sara was openly grinning at 'Mr Jones' now.
"Well, you can never have too much data, and experiments should be repeatable."
"Especially when the opportunity... arises."
"I can see that... " Sara's glance flicked down and back up, "... it makes sense."
Grissom handed her an airsickness bag. "You don't look well."
"I guess I need the bathroom pretty quickly."
Sara had the aisle seat and stood up, clutching the bag in a very convincing manner. As usual when someone looked as if they might be sick other people got out of the way and avoided eye contact. These passengers were no different.
Grissom followed her, the very picture of concern.
There was more than one toilet on the plane, but Sara headed for the nearest, figuring it would look more natural. It was the furthest from the cabin crew's station and nearest to the back of the plane. All the passenger seats faced away from its alcove.
Sara opened the door and slipped inside. She left the door slightly ajar and put down the lid on the toilet. Moments later she saw Grissom glance quickly forward down the plane before he entered the cramped cubicle and locked the door.
For a second they just looked at each other, almost as if neither of them could actually believe that they were both in the toilet. Sara fought to stop a giggle escaping. She would remember this forever.
Grissom couldn't believe that he was actually going to do this. Had even instigated the whole situation. Once Sara had mentioned that article he had not been able to stop thinking about it, hence his 'prominent' problem.
Sara pulled him into her arms and kissed him thoroughly and Grissom stopped worrying about the 'why'. They both knew why they were here. As they kissed he slid his hands up under Sara's skirt and pulled her panties down until she could step out of them, then he pocketed the small damp scrap of lace. He picked Sara up and propped her on the thick rim around the sink, where she quickly moved her legs apart so that he could stand between them. Sara's hands were already undoing his belt and tucking the ends in the pockets so that they didn't jangle. While she tackled his zipper he was making short work of the buttons on her top and soon had her breasts exposed. He leaned Sara back so that he could briefly kiss both of the pert nipples. She pulled down his boxers sufficiently to release him in to her waiting hand and gave him a few firm strokes simply because she loved touching the smooth silky hardness of him. She hooked one long leg behind Grissom's thigh and pulled him closer, guiding him into her with one hand. He used both hands to hold on to the cheeks of her bottom and keep her steady as he slid into her welcoming heat. When he was fully sheathed they both paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation, and Grissom took the opportunity to snatch a kiss. Sara held on to him with both arms around his neck and urged him on. He needed no prompting, pulling almost all the way out, and then surging back in forcefully.
Sara muffled her moans of delight in Grissom's neck as he got into his stride, a slow but hard rhythm. He seemed almost to pause at the deepest point within Sara, pull most of the way out, and then thrust back hard. Sara found herself anticipating each thrust as it drove her inexorably closer to climax. She was so much more aware of how he felt inside her, the hard glide back and forth, the building pressure, her stomach muscles contracting to tip her pelvis and her internal muscles gripping Grissom as if to prevent his leaving.
The slow pace was driving her wild and she had the urge to scream at him to hurry the fuck up but she also wanted to see where this was going because it was promising to be huge. She could feel it building in waves, each thrust adding to the last, layers washing over her. She could feel the heat in her face and see the concentration on Grissom's. He knew! He knew exactly what he was doing to her! Sara could feel the rising intensity - she couldn't contain all this sensation it was too hot, too bright, too much. She could hear moaning and didn't realise that she was the one doing it.
Grissom ached with the effort it took not to go any faster. The urge to just plunge into Sara was overwhelming but he'd resisted her for three years so he knew something about control. It wouldn't take a lot though, he knew he couldn't last much longer. He tried to keep his eyes closed to take his mind off Sara's responsiveness, but he could still see her in his mind's eye and her profound reaction to him caused a feedback reaction in him, increasing his arousal. There was only one way this was going to end and it was imminent.
Sara was beyond rational thought. Her arms were locked around Grissom's shoulders and she had his bunched shirt material in each tight fist. The waves were rolling over her one after another, so fast that they were overlapping until finally she was there, soaring up into the light, the seemingly endless ecstasy going on and on with each thrust. It had never lasted this long, never.
Grissom had never been so grateful in his life before to feel the tight clenching around him that signalled climax. He gave only two or three quick thrusts and surrendered gratefully to his own powerful orgasm, spilling his seed deep into Sara's body even as she milked him dry with her still contracting muscles.
Grissom wanted to collapse but there was no room. Extraordinarily, in the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten that they were still in the toilet. He prayed that no one had heard Sara above the aircraft noise. He gently withdrew from her and grabbed some tissues for them both.
Sara couldn't hear the plane over the roaring in her ears. She felt faint and her legs were rubbery. She felt boneless and couldn't move. She just looked at Grissom with huge stunned eyes. She looked as if she were in shock.
"You okay?" Grissom asked with concern.
"Stars." Sara whispered.
"Stars?" Now he was baffled.
"Can you see them spinning around my head?" Sara asked.
Grissom's face was transformed with relief. He smiled, a combination of pride and humour with a dash of smug on the side.
"Oh, those stars. Careful they don't bump into mine."
Sara grinned, gradually feeling connected to reality again.
"That one is going the top of my orgasm chart. Knocked any previous one for six."
Grissom's glance flew to her face to see if she was joking.
"You have a chart?"
"All women do, don't let them tell you otherwise."
Sara allowed Grissom to help her down and she stood unsteadily for a moment, clinging to his arm.
"I had no idea." He smiled, shaking his head.
"Actually, you're responsible for nine of the ones in my top ten. The former number one was the one with the mirror."
Grissom didn't know what to say.
But he felt pretty damn good.
They finished tidying their clothes and cleaning up, and were about to open the door when Sara suddenly remembered her panties.
Grissom smirked and patted his pants pocket.
"Don't worry, they're safe."
He unlocked and opened the door cautiously before she could protest further. After a quick glance outside he slipped out of the toilet and pulled the door shut behind him. He assumed his concerned face and made his way back to his seat. No one paid him any attention.
A few minutes later he was joined by Sara who was still feigning airsickness.
"Are you okay?" Grissom's query had just the right amount of concern.
Sara had no need to fake the still wobbly legs and shaking hands. The only thing she found difficult was keeping the silly grin off her face.
"Feeling much better, but I feel I could do with a nap if you wouldn't mind getting a blanket down for me."
'You and me both' Grissom thought as he pulled down a blanket and helped her unfold it over them both.
As they settled back into their seats, Grissom suddenly had a thought.
"You said nine."
Sara was reclining facing him and she opened her eyes and smirked. She wondered when that would sink in.
"What was the other one?" Grissom would not rest until he knew.
"First one I gave myself. Truly spectacular in the cosmic sense."
Grissom looked stunned, but Sara hadn't finished with him yet.
"And if you're wondering, it's number ten on the list now."
Sara closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up around her chin. That would give him something to stew on.
Grissom looked at her face.
'Well.' He thought.
That covered it nicely.
Grissom found himself drifting, not quite awake but not entirely asleep. The plane noise retreated into the background as he allowed his mind to go over the last nine days that he had spent with Sara, savouring all his - their - experiences and storing as much away as he could into his long-term memory. It wasn't just the sexual aspects of the holiday he recalled - fantastic as that was - but everything else. The way Sara buttered her toast. Had her coffee. Cleaned her teeth. Her beautiful smile. The way her eyes lit up when she was enthusiastic about something. Hearing her laughter. Even the daft way that she'd shoo him out of the bathroom when she wanted to use the toilet, even though he'd seen her naked in the shower.
He found his mouth curving into a smile as he remembered her outrage when he had laughed. It had been the nearest thing to an argument that they'd had.
Even making up had been fun.
And she loved him.
Hearing those words from Sara, even though she had never intended for him to hear them, had been a blessing that he had never expected to have. Those words would be what kept him going through the dark times. A secret to hug to his heart.
Grissom sank deeper into sleep and dreamed of Sara.
Sara stood beside the carousal and waited for their cases to appear. By unspoken agreement she and Grissom had continued with the Smith/Jones charade when they had awoken on the plane. She suspected that Gil Grissom would make his appearance in the taxi on the way to his place. And he would break her heart.
Grissom pulled their cases off as they came past and carried the two heaviest, leaving Sara the lighter third case. They queued for a taxi and the ride to Grissom's address was quiet.
On the way it started to rain in big fat drops that splattered on the windshield and Sara thought how appropriate it was that the sky wanted to cry too.
When the taxi stopped outside Grissom's place, the driver got out and quickly retrieved Grissom's cases from the trunk. Grissom paid him and gave him enough to get Sara home with a tip. He turned back to Sara, still huddled in the corner.
"Sara, I... " Grissom began.
"Please don't." She looked at him bravely, her chin held high, "Anything you say will sound like goodbye."
Grissom nodded once. He climbed out of the taxi and shut the door.
He turned to watch the taxi as it pulled away. Ten yards. Twenty. Thirty yards. He had turned back to pick up his cases when he heard the squeal of brakes. He looked back at Sara's taxi in time to see it pull over. The door flew open and Sara got out, getting soaked. She started to walk back to Grissom and without realising it he started to walk towards her. She picked up speed and so did he, until they were both running.
Sara flew into Grissom's arms and he kissed her fiercely while the rain poured down on them both.
When the kiss finally ended they looked at each other. They looked like drowned rats and the humour of it made Sara able to grin when she didn't feel like it at all.
"I know nothing has changed. I understand that. Tell Mr. Jones I'll miss him."
Grissom put her back in the taxi and this time watched until it was a blur in the distance. He touched his fingers to his lips.
Author's Note: Shall I leave it there or does anyone want to know what happens when they get back to work? I was going to continue this until they came to their senses, but my 'short' fic has run away with itself. I leave it in your capable hands. Mine are, after all, shaking from sleep deprivation:)
Story Index | Next