Spoilers: Nothing earth shattering 'cos I've only just heard about the beard!
Archive: Please ask first I might say yes.
Disclaimer: C.S.I. still not my property. Have dipped into their lives briefly to leave them stirred, but not shaken.
Author's Note: Part two of 'The Holiday Assignment' which seemed to go down quite well to my pleasant surprise (English modesty at work :)). Thank you to all those of you who left reviews for part one, it certainly encouraged me to carry on. This is just a short chapter covering the weekend immediately prior to their return to work. I'm not teasing you: part three will be the last part. Probably.
Summary: Grissom and Sara are back in Vegas after their holiday. What will happen when they meet in the real world?
Sara lugged her suitcase into her apartment and put it down gratefully. She could swear that it had gained weight the nearer she got to her front door. She and the case were still dripping from the rain that had started on her way back from the airport. The driver of the cab had been less than impressed with her getting back in the vehicle soaked after her impassioned goodbye with Grissom, and had given her filthy looks all the way back to her place. She hardly noticed, having been caught up in her own misery. Before she knew it she had been standing in the rain beside her case on the sidewalk with the sound of the cab disappearing in the distance.
Sara wiped the case down with paper towels and left it in the hall. She kicked off her shoes, then went through to the bathroom and started running the shower, shedding her wet clothes into the hand basin. She'd deal with them later.
She tested the water temperature and stepped in to the shower's stream, allowing the warmth to soak into her chilled flesh. As soon as she closed her eyes to allow the water to cascade over her head she had a flashback to her last shower.
The one she had taken with Grissom.
She groaned at the jolt of awareness that had run through her as she remembered what had happened.
Dammit, was this going to keep on happening now? Would she see Grissom in everything she did that they had done together? Would there be any peace?
With her eyes still closed she felt around for her shower gel and came up empty, which was when she realised that it was still packed in her case.
For Sara that was the last straw. She brought her hands up to her face and finally allowed the tears to fall. At first it was silent, then she started crying in earnest. Great heart wrenching cries of anguish for what she had both found and lost. She cried for herself, for all the might-have-beens, but mostly she cried for Grissom. At least she knew what she had lost.
Grissom stood in front of his sound system trying to decide what type of music he was in the mood for. All he had decided so far was that he did not want silence. Silence gave him too much time to think. He could face a bloated days old corpse without flinching but his own thoughts scared him enough to want to avoid them.
He gave up trying to decide and hit the random selection option. He had loaded the CD's a couple of weeks ago and was not certain what was in there, but he'd find out shortly.
He retrieved his coffee from the kitchen bar counter, took it over to the couch and sat down, placing his mug on the coffee table. He picked up a crossword puzzle book and pen from the same table, only to put it down again a few minutes later when it became obvious that he could not concentrate on even the most mundane clues.
He picked up his coffee and took a cautious sip of the bitter brew. The first song finished and another started up. Aah, Robbie Robertson. Soothing.
'With eyes of fire no one can see...'
Grissom closed his eyes and leaned back. He kicked his slippers off.
'... covers me, I am drawn... I am drawn... to her, like a moth to a flame she leads me now, unbound...'
Grissom's mind yanked him straight back to Sara.
'... I am lost, I am lost... has anybody seen me? I am lost...'
Damn the man, was he reading his mind? Grissom knew that he'd never be able to listen to this song again without thinking of Sara.
He had been drawn to her, even at thirty-six, when she had been a twenty-one year old at one of his guest lectures.
His moth to her flame. So deadly, so dangerous.
But when had danger ever seemed so compellingly attractive? But he was not unbound, he was bound. Tied to Sara.
'... wherever I am she leads me now, unbound. No borders, no fences, no walls...'
He took another sip of his coffee and lay his head back again, staring at the ceiling but seeing only Sara's face as she stood in the rain outside his apartment.
After the taxi had left, he had not even noticed how wet he was until he was standing in a puddle of water inside his front door. He had left his cases where they were and gone straight to his shower to warm up.
It wasn't until he applied his soap that his traitorous mind conjured up Sara's naked image. She had used his gel in their shower that morning - used it on him, running her hands over his chest, his stomach, his - Christ, he couldn't even have a simple shower without thinking of her.
He'd dressed, made coffee and something to eat, even though he had no appetite. Everything he did took him further away from the time he'd spent with Sara and he resented it.
The last note of Robbie's faded away. Grissom closed his eyes as the next song began.
He wondered if she had got home okay. He opened his eyes again to locate his phone. Perhaps he should give her a quick ring, just to make sure she'd arrived safely.
He found the phone and started to dial. He pressed cancel. Would she misinterpret his concern as something more than its face value? If it had been another work colleague or a female friend like Catherine, he would have rung without a thought. He redialled her number from memory, chastising himself for his indecisiveness.
For all his internal debating, it never occurred to him that his call would go straight through to her answerphone, and it caught him off guard.
He heard the message and the beep and hesitated. Was she listening to see who it was before answering? He uncharacteristically dithered.
"Umm... just checking to see that you got in okay..."
He paused again.
"... Call -" the recording tape clicked off. "- me when you can." He finished to the dial tone.
He sighed heavily as he hung up. Shit. Was she home? She should be by now. Perhaps she was in the shower. He groaned at the image that sprung to mind. She probably couldn't hear the phone in the shower. He'd give her half an hour. Maybe.
Sara crossed her living room with a towel around her wet hair and wearing her bathrobe. She headed for the kitchen area. Her eyes were red from her crying jag but she felt a little better.
So she had gambled and lost. She had hoped that ten days with Grissom would be so good that he'd see the light.
At least she had some fantastic - she smiled, no, some awesome memories that she would have to live on until -. Her thought cut off abruptly, as she noticed that her answerphone light was blinking. She had checked it before her shower and there had not been any messages.
She walked over and pressed the button. One message six minutes ago. Her heart leapt. Who else knew that she was back?
The tape began to playback and when she heard the silence her shoulders drooped. Just a hang up caller - Grissom's voice made her jump when he finally spoke.
'Umm... just checking to see that you got in okay...'
His voice had an odd quality to it, as if he'd been caught unprepared. There was a long pause and Sara thought that he'd finished until she heard the last fragment.
"... Call -"
The tape stopped and automatically started to rewind. Sara stopped it, removed the tape and inserted a fresh one. She didn't want Grissom taped over. Sad or what?
He wanted her to call him back. Was this Grissom asking or Mr. Jones? Probably Grissom. She switched off the answering machine and took the handset with her to the couch. She sat down, curling her legs under the end of her bathrobe and tucking her bare feet between the seat cushions. She pulled one of the smaller cushions on to her lap to hug it for comfort.
She looked at the phone as if it would provide the answer she needed. He said to call. It would not be against the rules.
Sara jumped out of her skin when the phone suddenly started ringing. She nearly dropped it in her haste to pick up. She answered on the third ring and then cursed herself for not waiting a couple of rings longer. Too keen.
"Where were you?" Grissom sounded abrupt.
'And hello to you too.' Sara thought. Serves him right if I tell him, then he'd be thinking about it too.
"In the shower. I got very wet recently."
"Oh." Pause. "Okay."
Sara resisted the urge to rush into speech. Come on Griss, say something, anything.
"I just wanted to make sure that you got home okay."
Sara hugged the cushion hard.
"I got home." She confirmed. The implication that she was not 'okay' hung in the air.
Grissom wanted to say something about the holiday. He didn't know what, but he wasn't ready for it to be over yet. Would he ever be ready? Indecision kept him silent.
When it became clear that Grissom was not going to speak Sara carried on.
"Monday night. Back at work. Catherine is bound to ask how we got on. What are we going to tell her?"
Grissom was shocked that it had not crossed his mind to discuss this earlier.
"I don't know." He said honestly.
"You don't want to tell her the truth, obviously." I'd tell her in a heartbeat.
"And we can't tell her that we didn't see each other either. She'd never believe that was possible. Not in the same hotel."
"No. She wouldn't."
Sara wondered if Grissom was going to contribute to this conversation or just agree with everything she said. She imagined the scene in his office.
'Actually, Cath. Sara and I hardly left the hotel because we were screwing each other's brain's out the entire time.'
Yep, that would go down well. Catherine's face would be a picture.
"Well, we have to come up with something. If Catherine rings you before Monday and you tell her whatever you're going to tell her, ring me and let me know so that we can get our stories straight."
There was another pause and Sara had a thought.
"Grissom, if you were concerned about me getting home, why didn't we stop at mine first?"
Grissom took so long to answer that she thought that he wasn't going to.
"I didn't trust myself not to ask you if I could come in with you."
Sara's jaw dropped at that admission and the cushion she was holding got throttled. She couldn't speak for a moment because of the strong emotions she felt.
Grissom didn't know why he'd admitted that to Sara. He had barely admitted it to himself. And it hurt.
Grissom was non-plussed.
"Thank you for admitting that you were tempted. Don't worry, I won't hold it against you."
Although her tone was light, her pain was evident to Grissom. He'd hurt her. Again.
Sara was lost again. He kept doing this. He would give with one hand and take away with the other. She didn't know where she stood.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I keep hurting you and it's the last thing I want to do. I knew it was a bad idea - "
"Don't! Don't you dare spoil my holiday by telling me it was a bad idea! It wasn't. I know the rules and I haven't broken them. Don't punish me by saying that you regret what happened."
Grissom sighed heavily.
"I do not regret one single moment. I'm just sorry that you are hurting too."
Sara closed her eyes as tears threatened to fall. She struggled to keep her voice light.
"Hey, I'm a big girl, I'll survive. It's not like I haven't been hurt before." By you.
There was another silence. Neither of them wanted to hang up.
"Look, Griss, we'll tell Catherine that we bumped into each other in the lift - the best lies are based on truth - and we griped about her, then mostly went our separate ways, except for the odd day. Keep it simple. Don't elaborate."
"See ya Monday."
Sara pressed end call before she could say anything damaging. Like 'come on over and I'll cook supper after we get out of bed'.
Grissom put down his phone and leaned back on the couch. He'd caved and phoned her after ten minutes. So much for back to normal.
Sara sat bolt upright. Something Grissom had said had only just sunk in.
'... I'm just sorry that you're hurting too.'
He was hurting?
Of course he was hurting. He wasn't a cruel man, well, not deliberately. It didn't mean anything. She would just squash that little burst of hope straightaway.
It was too quiet now. Sara got up from the couch and turned on the radio on the way to the kitchen. She made herself a drink but couldn't be bothered to make herself something to eat. She still hadn't picked up any fresh food or milk yet.
She glanced guiltily at the suitcase still by the door. It seemed stupid to even think it, but she didn't want to unpack yet. Unpacking would mean that the holiday was really over. It was ridiculous, she needed her toiletries and her make-up, and that fabulous oh-so-successful dress ought to be hung up properly. She ought to get a wash run on too.
After her drink then. Definitely.
Grissom eyed his now dry cases. He had carried them in to the bedroom earlier and left them unopened. He had been busy. The rainwater puddle had been cleaned up. He had checked his mail. He had dusted his moth and butterfly collection. Rearranged his cutlery drawer.
Finally he had run out of excuses. Time to unpack.
He lifted both cases on to the double bed, opened them and lay them flat. He steeled himself against the image of Sara packing in their hotel room.
Grissom efficiently put away the clean stuff, hung up the jackets and dumped the laundry in the wash bin. He started unzipping his shoe bags and came to a screaming halt when the third bag yielded a pair of high heel sandals.
Dismay fought with a smirk on his face and the smirk won. Unless he was much mistaken, these were not his.
He recognised them as the sandals that went with THAT dress. He vividly remembered taking them off her feet. So vividly, in fact, that he was now physically uncomfortable.
He left the sandals on his bed and reluctantly continued unpacking the other case.
Ten minutes later, hands on his hips, he stared at the two empty cases. He checked his closet shelves, then his drawers, and then the laundry bin.
He was missing a shirt.
Grissom's smirk got bigger.
Sara stepped back from hanging her purple dress in the bathroom. The few creases would drop out, the dress was fine. She grinned at the memory of Grissom's stunned face when he had first seen her in it. And when he'd first seen her out of it.
Sara went back in to her bedroom. She only had shoes and The Shirt left.
The shirt had been the one Grissom wore on their last full day.
Sara picked the shirt up and held it to her face. She inhaled deeply and was instantly transported back into Grissom's arms. It smelled unmistakably his. His shower gel, his cologne, his musk, the undefinable him. Sara felt the tug in her stomach and between her legs. Just his scent aroused her.
If only she could preserve this.
Sara went quickly in to her kitchen. She hunted through until she found an unused resealable sandwich baggie. Perfect. She put the shirt in the baggie and sealed along the edge. She went back in to her bedroom and placed the package in her beside drawer.
Fair's fair. He still had her panties.
She returned to her case, tipped out the shoe bags and started to put them away unopened. The last one was heavier than expected so she unzipped it and was genuinely surprised to see Grissom's loafers. She must have put these in her case and her sandals in Grissom's case. Talk about Freudian slip. They had laughed about them having the same type of shoe bag when she had unpacked in Grissom's room, yet another example of the geek meld.
He'd never believe that this was not deliberate. He'd think she planned this.
Oh shit, shit, shit.
Grissom looked at his watch. Eight p.m. Not too late.
Supervisor Grissom fought briefly with Mr. Jones.
There was a clear winner.
Sara let herself back in to her apartment and kicked the door shut behind her. She dropped her keys and the shopping on the counter and unpacked the food. First out were the strawberries, her favourite fruit - now. Her stomach flip-flopped with the memory.
When everything was stored away Sara opened a bottle of wine and made a sandwich. She had left the radio on when she went out and it stopped the loneliness encroaching.
She settled on the couch, putting her feet up so that she could prop her magazine against her knees. A few minutes later her attention drifted away from the article she was reading when the next song began with the sound of waves on a beach. She remembered walking hand in hand, then arm in arm with Grissom on the beach.
' Two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed but I'm home now and things still look the same.'
Sara swallowed her mouthful of sandwich and sat frozen listening to the female singer's voice.
'I think I'll leave it 'till tomorrow to unpack, try to forget for one more night that I'm back in my flat on the road where the cars never stop going through the night to a life where I can't watch the sun set, I don't have time, I don't have time.'
Sara was stunned. The lyrics were so apropos to her circumstances.
'I've still got sand in my shoes and I can't shake the thought of you. I should get on, forget you, but why would I want to. I know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused, but I want to see you again -'
Sara shot off the couch and scrambled for a pen. The first one she found didn't work and she threw it aside impatiently. The second pen did and she scribbled 'sand in shoes/female' on the back of her magazine while the singer went on about going back to work tomorrow. The chorus repeated and Sara stood beside the radio, poised with her pen.
'Two weeks away, all it takes, to change and turn me around I've fallen. I walked away and never said that I wanted to see you again -'
The hairs on the back of Sara's neck went up and goosebumps appeared on her arms. She was living every word.
Finally the song ended and the DJ informed listeners that the song was called 'sand in my shoes' from Dido's new album, White Flag.
Sara scribbled the details down. Dido, White Flag. Got it. Or she would have by tomorrow.
She went back to the couch and sat back down. She took a large swig of wine to calm herself. That had been spooky.
Sara picked the magazine back up and had just found her article when the doorbell went. She put the magazine down again and went over to the door. She used the peephole and fell back in surprise. Grissom. Crap. He must have found her sandals.
She opened the door wide. Grissom looked up from his perusal of the floor. He was not smiling and apprehension slid along Sara's spine.
"Hi." Rats, that had sounded nervous. "What's up?"
Grissom nodded once to acknowledge her greeting and when Sara moved to the side he took it as an invitation to enter. Sara shut the door behind him and waited.
The silence had just become uncomfortable when he finally spoke.
"I wondered if I could speak with... Ms. Smith?"
Sara's heart slammed triple time in her chest. She only kept her mouth from dropping open by sheer strength of will. She clasped suddenly clammy hands together.
"I... I'm not sure she's here. May I ask who wants to see her?"
Grissom managed not to glare at her.
"Tell her it's... Mr. Jones."
Sara finally allowed her delighted grin to break out. Her dark eyes sparkled and Grissom marvelled anew at the transformation from beautiful to stunning.
"It's an unexpected pleasure to see you again Mr. Jones."
Grissom moved closer to Sara and gave her the shoe bag containing her sandals.
"Yours, I believe?"
Sara took the bag and looked into his blue eyes.
"I swear it was an accident, I must have picked them up together and just - "
Sara stopped abruptly when Grissom placed a finger on her lips.
"I know, it's okay." He said gently. Any doubts he may have had were cleared by her earnest expression. Besides, it didn't matter if she had planned it, he didn't mind. She could - his thoughts hitched suddenly when he felt the unmistakable touch of her tongue on his finger.
There was only one thing to clear up quickly. He stared in to her eyes.
"The holiday ends tomorrow when we get back to work."
Sara 'umm'd' in agreement, willing to agree to almost anything at this point.
Grissom's head bent towards hers.
"Totally over. Finished." Grissom wondered whom he was trying to convince as his arms slid around Sara's body.
"Finished. Totally over. Understood." She said breathlessly as her arms went up around his shoulders.
"This can't happen again." Grissom groaned out just before his lips finally claimed Sara's in a kiss all the sweeter for being forbidden.
Sara would have replied but her mouth was busy. Grissom's tongue sought admission and she opened under his tender assault.
Grissom felt like he had been without Sara for weeks. She was his oasis and he was dying of thirst. He plundered her mouth without mercy. When he finally had to come up for air he looked at her flushed face and silently gave her a choice while he still could. She pulled him back down to her lips and kissed him deeply, her decision made.
As they kissed their hands were pulling at each others clothing and gradually the layers peeled away as they made their haphazard journey from the main room to Sara's bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing along the way.
At last they were beside the bed. Grissom's mouth kissed a damp trail down Sara's neck to her throat, and she tipped her head back to accommodate him. She had one arm bent over his shoulder and down his back, while her other hand ran her fingers through his soft hair, holding his head close. She was groaning with pleasure and Grissom could feel the vibration under his lips. He moved one hand around Sara to hold her to him, the other hand he used first to hold and caress Sara's breast, then to tease the nipple into a bud. He lowered his head to take the peak into his mouth and run his tongue back and forth across it. He sucked the delicious morsel further in and was rewarded with a jerk of her hips to his. Grissom swapped his attention to the other breast and repeated his ministration.
Sara was grinding her hips against his, trying to relive some of the pressure she felt building. She could feel Grissom's erection pressing against her mons and she wanted him inside her.
She lifted one leg, wrapping it around behind him so that she could pull him closer and manoeuvre him in to her, but he resisted her efforts.
"Not yet." He muttered around a nipple.
"Why?" Sara fake whined a little. She knew perfectly well why not.
Grissom straightened up and looked at Sara's face. She smirked and he shook his head.
He turned her around to sit on the end of the bed and urged her to lie back, her feet on the floor. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him kneel between her legs, a hand on each thigh. Her breath shivered in her breast in anticipation. He was so good at this.
Grissom bent forward and inhaled Sara's unique scent. He loved the way it made his arousal throb. He used the fingers of his left hand to part her other lips and leaned down to tease the little bundle of pleasure with his tongue. He felt it jerk at the same time he heard Sara cry out. He used the middle finger of his right hand to glide smoothly in to Sara's heat, stroking her firmly. He alternated his tongue and finger so that there was always pressure. The seconds turned into minutes as he drove her closer and closer to fulfilment.
Sara was practically delirious with delight. Although she liked to watch Grissom touching her she fell backwards on to the bed and her head thrashed from side to side as her drove her wild. Her arms were out-stretched, great handfuls of quilt caught up in her fists. Her hips begun to rock gently and Grissom moved with them, watching Sara.
"Ooh... that is SO good..." Sara moaned.
She let go of the bedding and caressed her own breasts, pinching at the nipples, pretending that it was Grissom's mouth on her there, too.
Grissom nearly lost his rhythm. Sara hadn't done that before and he was astonished at how arousing it had been. As if he needed any more.
Sara could feel herself already teetering on the edge of climax. She was almost there, the heat was rippling through her in waves, building and building and... and...
Grissom tore his mouth from Sara and quickly removed his finger. In less than a second he had lined himself up and plunged into Sara's arching body.
It tipped Sara over the edge and she was flying with each jerk of Grissom's hips.
She cried out, her muscles squeezing Grissom like a glove. He grunted in ecstasy as his own orgasm ripped through him, sending his seed deep in to her pulsing body in a series of jerks that emptied him completely. He collapsed over Sara, burying his face in her neck.
They lay spent for several minutes. Their breathing gradually calmed. Grissom straightened his arms and looked down at Sara. She smiled gently up at him, running her hands up his arms. She wanted to ask him to stay, but didn't know how he would react.
They were still half on and half off the bed, so Grissom pulled gently back and stood up. He reached down and pulled one of Sara's hands until she too stood up. He traced his still trembling fingers down her cheek to touch her swollen lips. He didn't say anything but the tenderness of the gesture made Sara's eyes sting. He could not say it out aloud, but Sara was in no doubt how he really felt, even if he didn't realise it himself. She was grateful when he turned away to the bed so that she could blink away the moisture in her eyes.
He pulled down the bedding and turned to her, smiling tiredly.
"Which side do you want?"
Beaming, Sara pointed to the left side of the bed, and Grissom got in the other side.
Sara took a mental picture of a sight she never expected to see, and probably wouldn't again after tomorrow. Gil Grissom in her bed. She shivered, but not with cold. Excitement.
"I'll lock up."
Sara scampered around the apartment, turning off the lights and locking the door. She had been granted one more night in his arms. She ignored the scattered clothing; they would pick it up tomorrow.
Before their holiday ended.
Author's Note: Yes, I know they are not back at work yet. Regard this as a treat for Christmas.
Both the songs lyrics used here are copyrighted by their owners. I have borrowed them because I love both the songs and intend absolutely no infringement whatsoever.
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