Rating: PG
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Please don't sue me.
Author's Note: I should warn you-I tripped and fell in a giant pile of fluff here. Forgive me.
Summary: Grissom has a headache and asks Sara to... help. All kinds of weird things happen next.
Sara could have just left. She could have just gone to her car and headed home, but she didn't. She felt the pull. She'd been diligently ignoring it for weeks, but this morning, as her shift
ended, she felt the pull and let it tug her. Right to him.
She stood in the doorway of his office, watching him. He looked tired, in pain. He looked like he needed something... someone. Someone to reach out to him. Could he need her? He was rubbing the back
of his neck, over and over again, his eyes closed and wincing slightly.
She couldn't walk away. The pull was egging her on. Something inside her told her to make the effort today.
"It's a lot more effective when somebody else does that."
His eyes opened immediately, first with a hint of annoyance, then, upon recognition, softening a bit. Then they seemed to relax into a smile.
"You volunteering?"
Blow it off, Sara. Blow it off.
She huffed a small laugh. "How fast would that sexual harassment charge be filed?" Her lips twisted into a smirk.
He took a moment to look at her, watched her lean against the doorframe. "I would never do that." His voice was low, almost sultry. She tried to ignore it. It didn't mean anything.
Sara glanced at the floor. "Yeah, well, what do I know?" she mumbled softly.
She looked up upon hearing him groan. "Ugh... my head is killing me." His hands were still touching the back of his neck. When he made eye contact with her again, she swore she saw a glint of
playfulness in his eyes. "Come on... please?" He bobbed his head back, urging her to come forth.
Why do I feel sympathy for this man? This man who toys with me, leads me on and ignores me? Regardless of the why, the fact remained she did-feel such sympathy for him, sitting there in
pain.
One step, Sara. One step toward him, and one more step over the line.
In seconds she was standing behind him, looking down at his shoulders. She rose up her hands to touch him and froze. One touch, Sara. One touch and another step. Her hands came to rest on his
shoulders.
She massaged him gently, squeezing harder with each stroke, eliciting soft moans from him.
"How do you walk around like this? There's nothing but knots back here."
He seemed to grumble in quiet ecstasy as she worked on the knots. She eventually moved her fingers to his neck, pressing into the muscles along his hairline, making him sigh contentedly
"Would you do me a favor?" he asked, drawing out the words as if he had trouble finding them.
Sara stilled her hands, imagining all kinds of favors she could do, none of which were likely to take place in his office.
"What?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Would you close the door?"
Sara wasn't sure what to make of that. She didn't move, leaving her hands motionless on him.
"Wouldn't want someone to get the wrong idea," he explained further.
Especially me. "Right." Why was she whispering?
Upon reaching the door, Sara realized this was her chance to escape, should she so desire. She didn't, and closed it quietly. She returned to her original position behind him, kneading his shoulders
again. Selfishly, she took a moment to examine his graying hair and tanned neck. She tipped her head slightly and looked at his ears, contemplating his past problems. She wanted to bend and kiss them
for a fleeting moment. She studied the facial hair on his cheek, desperately wanting to stroke it and feel it's coarseness.
This wasn't helping anything. Her grip on his shoulders weakened. Daydreaming pathetically, she began gently stroking his neck and shoulders sensually. This was a farce; she was just touching him-no
longer working out knots. She was lost in her thoughts, oblivious to her actions.
"Sara."
She heard him, but didn't respond. Must - touch - you. No talking.
"Sara." He raised his right hand across his chest and rested it on her left hand, stilling her movements. She snapped out of her trance immediately, her eyes drawn to the rough hand touching her
own.
Neither of them moved. Immobilized by the touch.
Opening her mouth, only air would come out. Finally, she whispered, "What?"
He squeezed her hand gently, relishing the feel of it under his. He slowly swiveled around in his chair to face her. He brought her hand closer to him and did not release it. Her right hand remained
on his neck. Sara's heart raced in anticipation as she struggled to breathe.
They locked eyes, both silently acknowledging the emotional intensity of the moment.
He was the first to speak. "I don't think it's going to go away."
Don't fall for it. He is the king of double entendres.
"You're headache?"
"No." He shook his head almost imperceptibly, dropping his gaze a moment. "This." His eyes sought out hers, pinning her to the metaphorical wall of their escalating attraction.
"I'm not the one who thought it would." She unconsciously took a tiny step closer to him. He still had her hand. She was still touching his neck. Neither was complaining.
This isn't happening. Good daydream though, Sara. Very nice.
He pulled slightly on her hand, causing her to take another step toward him. Maybe this wasn't a daydream. Sara was so busy processing the multitude of thoughts running through her mind, she didn't
notice Grissom swivel his legs out of her way and pull her next to him.
She wrinkled her eyebrows slightly, silently asking him, what the hell are you doing?
One eyebrow went up, and then down, answering her back silently-come here.
He put his left hand on her waist and turned her, nudging her down onto his lap. Still completely unsure herself, she timidly sat across his lap, leaving her hand resting on his neck.
Though smiling from the immense pleasure, Sara was still stunned by his indiscretion. A nervous laugh escaped her. "Have you lost your mind? That door isn't locked."
"No one comes in here without knocking," he replied, shrugging just slightly. "I don't plan to start any serious trouble."
Sara had no idea what he meant by that, but she cocked an eyebrow playfully nonetheless.
He held her on his lap by gently wrapping his other arm around her back. Then he focused on the hand he was holding, studying it closely. Sara watched him curiously, still shocked by the sudden leap
he had made and by his reverential touch.
He ran his thumb back and forth over her knuckles slowly. Then he turned her hand over and looked at her palm, letting his thumb draw slow circles across it.
Sara watched his hand massage hers, leaving her temporarily paralyzed.
She gently scraped the back of her nails across his neck. She wanted to press her body into his, but refrained. This was very weird. She had a hard time relaxing. Glancing at Grissom, she found
herself caught in his stare, as he closely regarded her features. Though she tried to enjoy their intimacy and return his gaze, it was making her uncomfortable.
"So, um... what are we doing here?" she asked softly, interlocking her fingers with his.
Deep in thought and clearly considering many options, he answered honestly, "I... don't... know."
After a few more longing looks, Sara spoke up again. "Griss?"
Letting go of her hand a moment, he touched his finger to her lips. "Shh... I still don't know," he added with a half smile.
Sara cocked her head and grinned. He was practically being silly. She had never seen him like this. They sat awhile in silence, just staring at each other and occasionally holding hands.
"How discreet are you willing to be?" he asked finally.
"A lot more than this!" she answered with raised eyebrows. She put their linked hands on his chest.
"When I screw this up are you going to leave?" The smile was gone from his face, and there was sadness in his voice.
"You mean if you screw this up, or if I screw this up," Sara corrected.
"Will you quit?" he asked again.
"How do I know?" Sara replied, her voice sounding louder than she intended. "Probably not, unless you become some overbearing asshole who wants to make my life miserable," she added with a smile,
relaxing a bit.
"I think I'm done doing that." He moved his hand around her and interlocked his fingers behind her back.
"That's good to hear." I think I could actually do this. I could sit here all day.
Sara heard laughter from the hallway and tensed immediately, looking at the door. Dayshift was arriving to work.
"Sara, in the entire time that I have had this office, no one has ever walked in here when the door is closed."
She still eyed him suspiciously.
"Not once," he added.
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
"I was thinking that too." After a beat he asked, "May I kiss you?"
Sara was officially floored, blushing like a ninth grader and smiling like a fool. "Now?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes."
"Here?" She looked around his office for a second.
He nodded, smirking stupidly himself.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is this some kind of test?" she asked flatly.
He laughed his response. "No."
"I guess I have to take what I can get," she replied while shrugging. "Sure."
Sara held perfectly still, feeling his hand move from behind her. He gently let the back of his fingers caress her cheek, moving almost imperceptibly closer to her. He cupped her face, pulling her to
him for a brief kiss. They both intended to merely quell their curiosities, but things escalated quickly. Their pent up emotions came to the surface, causing them to kiss passionately. Unable to hold
back, they began exploring each other with gentle, yet inquisitive hands. Grissom was the first to stop.
"We should get out of here." He punctuated his statement with a kiss to her nose.
"I told you you shouldn't have started this here," Sara lectured, hopping off his lap. "Didn't plan to start any serious trouble, huh? Yeah, right." She mocked him mercilessly with a grin.
Sara walked around the front of his desk and waited for him to gather his things. He joined her and guided her toward the door.
Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and looked at him.
"So all the times I see this door shut, what are you doing in here?"
"Napping," he deadpanned. "But don't tell anyone."
- The End -
Author's Note: For such silly fluff, I sure had fun writing this one. Reviews are even more fun though!