by Laura Katharine
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Just borrowing for fun. Please don't sue.
Summary: Grissom and Sara's attraction to one another starts to interfere with their work.
Chapter 3 - The scientists play withmagnets?
Robert Mayfield was officially charged in the murder of Rebecca Kattner that morning. Sara left work with even more spring in her step than usual. Between catching a killer and Grissom's invitation, she was on an unbelievable high. She went home, cleaned her entire apartment for no reason, went for a four mile jog, and then tried unsuccessfully to get a few hours sleep. She tossed and turned all afternoon, until she decided to take a bath around 4:30pm. She lay there, day dreaming pathetically about Grissom. She drifted off in the tub, waking up at 6:20pm. She hurriedly finished getting ready, grabbing a straight sleeveless dress to wear. It was short and pretty, but simple and casual enough not to throw him off balance.
She could smell something wonderful cooking when she walked up to his front door. She looked down at her watch, 7:08. She repeated her mantra to herself again. The same thing she said to herself the whole way over here in her car. It is just Grissom. This will not be creepy. She knocked lightly on his door. Grissom opened it slowly, looking down at the ground. He stared immediately at her legs. His eyes didn't seem to rise up at all. He backed out of her way so she could enter, finally looking up at her face. Her hair was up. What? He looked at her, dazed and confused for a moment.
"What's the matter with you?" she asked, thinking he may collapse at any moment.
He closed the door behind her, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. He turned around and looked at her back, well, her neck really. He couldn't remember ever seeing the back of Sara's neck. It was... tiny.
"Wha... what is this?" he asked.
"What?" Sara asked, starting to panic too. She put her hands up in a questioning manner. "What did I screw up already?" she asked loudly. "I just walked in the door!"
"You're wearing a dress," he stated simply, without accusation.
"You didn't tell me I couldn't. We're there instructions?" she asked defensively.
Grissom knew he was being stupid. He shook his head again. "Of course not," he answered. She followed him into the kitchen where he busied himself finishing dinner. She watched him move about the kitchen, checking the stove frequently and reaching for dishes. He was wearing a black polo shirt and kaki pants. The band aid was gone from his chin, leaving the scabbed cut exposed. She wanted to kiss it for him. She found herself staring at him, half expecting him to yell at her. He was clean. She worked with Grissom almost everyday, and he was always clean. But tonight he seemed deliberately clean. She went over to him, standing closer to him than she needed to.
"What can I do?" she asked, trying to get him look at her.
"Nothing," he answered, still avoiding her eyes. She brushed by him gently, walking over to the stove. He stared at her from behind, eyeing the back of her neck again. How is it he never noticed how tiny her neck was? He swore it was calling him. He stood next to her, their hips almost touching and both of them staring at the vegetables on the stove. The oven timer blared, making both of them nearly jump out of their skin. He reached his arm over and silenced the timer. Sara put her hand on his arm and said boldly, "I'm thinking five more minutes of creepy tension and then we both get over it. Deal?"
"Should we set the timer again?" he dead panned, looking her in the eye for the first time that evening. She laughed at him and handed him a potholder, which he promptly swatted her with. He removed the salmon from the oven, and put the vegetables in a bowl. They sat down at the table. Grissom still felt tremendously awkward.
"You don't have to be freaked out; I promise," she said, scooping some vegetables onto her plate. "It's just me."
"It's not just you," he said quietly, accepting the bowl from her.
"What are you talking about?" she asked bluntly. "Look at me," she commanded. His eyes went to her eyes. She raised her eyebrows and put her palms out. "It's just me."
His pointed his finger at her. "You do not put your hair up and wear cute little dresses," he argued.
Now she got it. She did throw him off balance. Wait, did he just say cute? "Ok, now we're getting somewhere. Talking is good." She put some salmon on her plate while Grissom offered her some wine. "I had to put my hair up because I had a bathtub incident."
He didn't know what they hell she was talking about. "What's a bathtub incident?"
Her face flushed as she explained. "I fell asleep in the bathtub. For two hours, I might add. When I woke up, I had scary hair-much scarier than this, and I didn't have time to start over."
He nodded, chewed his food slowly and tried not to picture her lying naked in a bathtub. "And the dress?"
"Oh, that," she said. "Well, that's just a lack of information on your part. Turns out I do wear cute little dresses. When I...want to," she explained pathetically. She focused on the rest of her food, realizing suddenly how delicious it was.
Grissom just stared at her. God, she was a strange bird. No, she wasn't strange at all; she was beautiful. And she was in his house. At his table. Eating with him. She belonged somewhere else. They ate in silence while he wondered how he ever had the audacity to ask her over. Then he remembered that it was Sara who pushed this. Sara was always pushing this. Why?
"Why are you here?" he asked, setting his wine glass down.
"You mean in an existential sort of way?"
"No, I mean here," he said, pointing to the table.
"Good Lord," she muttered. She quickly downed her last sip of wine and pushed her almost empty plate away from her. She stood up from the table and put her hand out to him. "Come here."
He didn't move. Only his eyes moved up to hers. She smiled innocently at him. She wrapped her arm around his upper arm and tugged. "Come here," she said again.
Grissom swore she was almost purring. "Why?" he asked warily as he stood up in front of her.
Sara took a deep breath and rattled out, "Because we need to make out." She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her.
"We what?" he asked, convinced she had lost her senses.
She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Grissom reluctantly wrapped his arms around her, still questioning her sanity.
"We're like magnets..." she said, looking at his shirt.
"Magnets?" he asked inquisitively.
Sara nodded. "Our like poles are repelling each other. One of us needs to be..." she drifted off, caught by his stare.
"Flipped?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked and a tiny smile forming on his lips.
"Yeah," she smiled. "You need a good... flipping," she continued, trying not to laugh.
Grissom narrowed his eyes at her, staring intently. "You're the craziest woman I've ever met," he said seriously. He slowly moved his hand up her back a few inches.
"We need to get this out of the way," she said softly, eyeing the cut on his chin.
She was so distracted by that cut that she found herself completely focused on it. She remembered when it was fresh and bleeding. How she worked so carefully pulling tiny pieces of glass from it. She stared at his chin for a long time before she reached up and gently touched it. Her fingers caressed his face while her thumb tenderly ran over the scab. "Does this hurt?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He was staring at her face, taking it in slowly. He looked in her eyes, followed her cheeks down to her lips. "Only if you touch it," he said. His voice was almost trembling. He gazed at her curiously, wondering what she was going to do. He watched her raise herself up and felt her press against his body. She gently put her lips on his cut and kissed it. She pulled back just a little, to look in his eyes.
"Did that hurt?" she whispered. Grissom didn't move. He just stared at her, wanting her. He shook his head slightly to indicate that it hadn't. Sara pressed herself into him again, leaning up to kiss his chin again. She kissed the cut, kissed the little patch of skin next to his cut, and then kissed further up his cheek. She rested her cheek next to his face, gently rubbing her face against him. She brought her mouth to his ear and lightly pecked it. She closed her eyes, taking in his scent. "Would you please kiss me?" she begged him softly, nuzzling his ear. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, moving his hand up her back to touch the bare skin of her neck. He whispered her name gruffly.
His lips crashed into her neck, gently sucking her delicate skin. He exhaled forcefully as he licked and sucked at her neck, the shock of finally taking action overcoming him. Her sharp intake of breath told Grissom she wanted him as much as he wanted her. This was why she was here. He trailed kisses all over her neck, holding her close to him. Sara continued to peck at his ear, lightly moving her mouth down his face. She kissed back to his chin, careful to avoid his cut. She moved her lips over his without kissing him, trying to get him to kiss her on the mouth. He put his hands on her face, wrapping his fingers behind her ears. He stared at her for a moment, as if to prepare her for the irreversible final move of their platonic relationship. She looked at him, with his lips so close to hers, and whispered, "Please..." She watched him approach her lips gradually. He kissed her so slowly. She could not remember another first kiss being so satisfying. He ached to have his tongue in her mouth, and nudged it in delicately. It was met by Sara's welcoming tongue instantly. He removed his hands from her face, making their lips the only initiators. His hands slid up and down her back, eventually moving lower, tenderly gripping her rear end. Sara groaned softly into his kisses, tugging at his shirt. She managed to pull out the back of his shirt, and quickly slid her hand up his back. Grissom moaned lightly when her hand rubbed the bare skin of his back. They kissed for a long time, in the middle of his dining room. She finally pulled away, just slightly, and breathed hard next to his face. They hugged each other tightly, and Grissom put his mouth next to her ear. He exhaled into her ear and whispered, "You're right. I feel better."
He pulled his head back to look in her eyes; then he leaned in and kissed her again. He hovered his lips over hers, staring at her eyes. "What?" she asked, smiling.
"What else don't I know about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Other than the cute dresses..." he said, lowering his eyes.
"You're asking me to divulge information about my personal life?" she teased. "I don't even know your phone number," she said, backing up and turning to clear the table.
"Oh, you do too," he said, carrying their plates to the kitchen. He watched her place a pan on the counter. He walked behind her, touching her back with his hand. "I only know work Sara," he said, scraping a dish clean. "I want to know this Sara," he continued, bumping her hip with his own.
"I don't even know work Grissom," she said, squinting thoughtfully.
He glared at her for a second before replying seriously, "Yes you do."
Sara started rinsing the dishes, despite Grissom's request that she not. He came up behind her, resting his chin on her neck and stilling her hands with his. "Leave it," he demanded. His breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine. She turned around, and his arms enveloped her. "This is something you don't know about me. I have a horror of dirty dishes in the sink," she said dramatically, shooing him from her.
He walked around the counter, watching her work. She looked up, suddenly inspired. "Ok, your turn."
He looked confused. "What do you mean, my turn?"
"Tell me something I don't know about you," she answered, wiping a dish with a sponge. She smiled up at him sweetly. At that moment he would have told her anything, given her anything she wanted. He couldn't remember any other woman having that effect on him.
Sara finished the last dish and turned off the water. She dried her hands, staring at him and waiting for a response. His eyes watched her with a new uninhibited passion, having tasted the woman he had denied himself so long. She leaned her elbows on the counter, rocking seductively in front of him. "I'm waiting," she said.
He walked around the counter, slid one hand across her stomach and kissed her neck from behind. He moved his mouth close to her face, leaning his cheek into hers and whispered, "I have a horror of women who wash my dishes." He turned her around and captured her lips, unable to be without them any longer. Sara returned his kiss with an intense passion rivaling his own. In minutes they were back to recklessly fumbling with each other, both of them unable to restrain themselves. Grissom bent just a little, picking Sara up into his chest. With her feet dangling just above the floor, he carried her into his living room, not stopping his assault on her lips and neck.
Sara couldn't remember ever moving so quickly with another man. She concluded this must be what happens when you've known each other for so long before becoming intimate. She could actually see herself making love to him tonight; it made perfect sense to her. Grissom stood next to the couch, still holding Sara above the floor and kissing her intensely. He suddenly wondered how this was going to work. Should he just throw her down? Gently sit her upright? Sit himself down first? He couldn't seem to think straight at all, intoxicated by Sara's tongue flicking lightly behind his ear. She kissed around his ear, finally whispering, "Are you going to put me down?"
He let her slowly drop to the floor, enjoying the feel of her body sliding down his. They stood there, nose to nose, swapping tiny kisses back and forth. In between kisses, Grissom took great effort to make his mouth form words. "Should we..." Sara interrupted him with a kiss. "Talk..." He couldn't seem to resist her, and somewhere, a deeply buried part of his psyche was annoyed. "About this?" He eventually got out his question.
Sara sat down on the couch, grabbing his hand as she did. "Talking is highly overrated," she breathed out, reclining and yanking him down on top of her. Sara pulled more of his shirt out of his pants, while Grissom's hands roamed up and down the back of her dress roughly. She could sense his frustration, and pulled away from his kiss to utter, "Front." He kissed her again, only to pull away slightly to look at the buttons lining her chest. "Oh," he muttered, kissing down her neck. "That's convenient," he said candidly, fumbling with the buttons.
Sara became inpatient with him and started pulling his shirt further up his back. Grissom could not understand why Sara was moving so quickly, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. He gave up on the buttons and began sliding his hand up the outside of her thigh. They continued kissing fervently while squirming on the couch. Somehow they rocked close to the edge and rolled squarely on to the floor. Grissom let out a hearty grunt, with Sara crashing down on top of him. She laughed into his mouth, mumbling, "Are you okay?" He tried to sit up, pushing Sara up with him. "This is ridiculous," he said, still peppering her face with kisses.
Clearly unable to hide her exhilaration, Sara laughed lightly and responded, "I know!"
"Why aren't you stopping me?" he asked, sitting up and caressing her cheek with his hand. He looked in her eyes seriously.
She thought for a moment and was truly puzzled. "I don't want to." She shrugged almost apologetically.
He thought about that for a moment, baffled himself. Their hands were intertwined as they sat there on the floor, glancing at each other. Sara scooted herself in between his legs and rested her back on his chest.
"I guess I keep thinking if you have a minute to think about this you'll panic and throw me out," she said, wrapping his arms around her.
Grissom turned his head and rested his mouth on her neck. He mumbled a, "hmmm" into her neck and hugged her. He didn't want to let her go, ever. He sighed heavily, realizing the complexity of the situation. His silence made Sara feel very uneasy. She lightly caressed his forearm and whispered, "Maybe I should go."
Grissom gripped her hand and responded roughly, "I don't want you to."
Sara turned around gently and looked at him. "What do you want?" she asked honestly, her voice full of compassion. He stared at her for a long time, torn between a growing sense of responsibility and his ever-increasing desire for her. The logical side won out, and he knew he needed to talk to her.
"I want this to not be difficult, and it's going to be." He wrapped his arms around her more, pulling her into him. Sara snuggled into his chest, placing her head on his shoulder. He didn't speak for a few minutes, thinking of what to say to her. Sara closed her eyes, content to just lie in his arms.
"Do you know there's a departmental code preventing us from doing... what we were just doing?" he asked.
Sara opened her eyes but didn't move. She knew about the code preventing administrators and employees from fraternizing, but never thought he would actually bring it up to her. Surely he found it as ridiculous as she did. She quietly uttered, "I know."
"You know?" he asked, somewhat surprised.
"Of course I know, I read my contract when I signed it," she said, a smile forming on her lips.
"Then what are you doing here?" he asked, bumping her head with his shoulder.
"You asked me to come," she replied.
"You made me," he retorted childishly.
"You wanted me to make you!"
"Oh, stop it!" he said, kissing the top of her head as a peace offering. They sat there for a long time, both of them feeling abnormally comfortable in each other's arms. "I can't treat you any differently at work. No one can even suspect something is going on," he said, lazily drawing circles on her back. "It's going to be very hard, Sara, and it's a big risk."
"I'm not asking you to treat me differently. I'm a grown up, you know." She moved her head so her face touched his neck. "I can separate work and..." she nuzzled his neck, softly kissing him. "... this," she murmured. She let her tongue trail over his neck toward his ear. "Maybe it's a risk worth taking," she whispered, letting her tongue brush his ear lightly. Grissom moaned softly, stroking her bare arms with his hands. He moved his hands to her face, looking her in the eye before attacking her lips. They slid back down to the floor, their mouths never parting. The sense of urgency seemed to fade, and they both enjoyed the slower pace, appreciating every touch and kiss.
Sara pulled her lips off his when she heard his cell phone ring. She stared at him, but he didn't move.
"Answer that!" she said, wondering why he didn't reach for it.
He kissed her one more time before getting up. He answered the phone, and within seconds Sara could tell he was being called in to work. He grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down an address. She came up behind him and touched his back. He stuttered slightly on the phone, which made her giggle a little. She slid her hands around his waist, and lightly tickled him. He grabbed her hand, and turned around. He moved his phone away from his mouth and whispered harshly, "Have you lost your mind?" She let go of him and stepped away, buttoning her dress and chuckling quietly.
He hung up the phone and looked at her apologetically, apparently forgetting her little sneak attack. She walked up to him, looking briefly at the paper he had written on. "Going to work, boss?" she asked sarcastically.
"Welcome to the number one reason why women don't date me," he said, sliding his cell phone across the kitchen counter.
She opened her mouth in mock surprise. "What a coincidence! That's the number one reason why men don't date me!" She smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Let's go be workaholics," she said, holding his hand and dragging him toward the door. He grabbed his keys and stopped at the door. Sara felt his demeanor change substantially.
"Sara," he began.
She cut him off instantly, "Yeah, yeah. I'm driving my own car, and I'm going home to change. I wasn't on a date, and I certainly wasn't with you," she said, appearing disgusted by the thought. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him.
"I'll see you in a few minutes," he said, pressing his lips into hers.
"Bye," she said, kissing him again before heading out the door.
- The End -
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