The Great Escape

Rating: R
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: Dear Santa, There's this TV show on CBS that I've been watching for years, and... Oh, fine, be that way. The characters aren't mine. Never will be.

Author's Note: Thanks to Marlou, as always, for the great beta work. Sorry I'm a little behind in updating. Real life is a major drag. 'Nuff said. On with the fic!

Summary: Ecklie's shift adjustments cause some major behavioral changes.

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Chapter 4

THEY LANDED ON THE neutral territory of the living room sofa after dinner. The bit of tension that lingered in the air seemed to originate from the fact that neither had much to say. Well, that, and the fact that they wanted each other. Badly. There was no denying it. Was there ever a point in denying it?

It started slowly, sweetly, with soft kisses and whispers. The temperature in the room began to rise as they progressed to bolder moves, and then things went a little hazy.

Sara's mind, in particular, was a blur. Wasn't this too fast? They'd only been here three days. Or was it four? She couldn't quite remember and didn't really care. It had to be too soon. Wasn't it? She wanted to talk to Grissom about her parents, about her weaknesses, about how, when she was around him, she felt smart and capable, invincible and strong. -Not that she needed him in order to feel that way, it was just that he complimented her in such a way that she was more aware of herself around him. Her talents, her abilities, her body, and her mind. She was more alive with him. He... he completed her.

Oh, this was bad. She was quoting the Jerry McGuire movie. All she could see in her head now was Rene Zellweger sniveling to Tom Cruise, You had me at hello! Okay, time to put on the brakes.

Her shirt was riding up. His was, too, in the back. Her mouth was dry and numb from too many hot, wet kisses-as if there were such a thing as too many hot, wet kisses. God, now he was sucking and licking into that little dip in her collarbone. The one he'd mentioned in his office before they came here, which somehow made her feel even hotter-knowing he'd thought about this before they even left Vegas. She could hardly catch her breath. "Maybe we should... uh, slow down?" She couldn't have sounded more unconvincing if she tried.

Still, Grissom froze, and his grip on her weakened. "I'm sorry." He looked embarrassed and more than a little confused, and Sara wanted to die. What did she just do?

"Don't be!" She grabbed his face and kept kissing him, pressing more of her body along his. "I don't know why I said that," she mumbled, trailing her mouth across his cheek and down his neck. "Don't listen to me."

He would have said something-argued a little, been a gentleman and stopped things before they went too far, but her tongue and her hands and her... God, her chest was gliding rhythmically against his, calling out to be caressed, and her body felt so incredibly good in his arms...

So, he lost track of his thoughts and smoothed his hand under her shirt, over the soft skin of her back while they kissed. Some time later, he arrived at the goosebumps of her belly and, after a brief foray on her right breast, he started reaching lower, teasing her mercilessly until his fingers dipped inside the waistband of her shorts. She whimpered when he tugged gently on the button, and she sucked in a breath when he slowly lowered the zipper, slipping his hand in further. Oh my God, she wanted this.

He was touching her in places that lay dormant for entirely too long. And it felt incredible. Because it was him. It was finally him.

"Saaara..." His voice was breathy and decidedly unsteady while he explored between her thighs, which only turned her on more. "Are you all right with this? Tell me to stop if you don't...uh... if you don't want-"

"I do..." They were busy kissing and doing other delightful things, and then she continued, "I... um, oh, God... I can't think straight when you're touching me." Their quiet groans seemed to echo in the room while he made her wriggle and squirm. "I want you to touch me," she managed to whisper into his ear. Sara ran her hand over his thighs in gentle strokes, occasionally passing between his legs and making him grunt and groan into her mouth desperately.

Her ragged breath was hot on his face, and then she clutched at his neck like a woman possessed, holding his mouth to hers with only the suction of her lips and the powerfully enticing taste of her tongue. Her climax surprised her, striking fast and hard, and filling Grissom with not only pride, but also unsuspected contentment.

It was enough.

It would be enough for him right now, to simply be allowed to touch her, to please her so fiercely. He held her, when she stiffened and let out a feral growl, and still, when she collapsed on him. He held her for a long time, until their breathing slowed, and the moment morphed into a tender, silent exchange of love.

His hand rubbed her back in slow circles, the weight of it feeling heavier than it actually was. He could almost feel her mind reeling-her voice ready to slice into the silence.

"Don't talk," he said, his chest rumbling against her ear and cheek. She started to lift her head, but stopped, staying where she was.

"Just, don't say anything," he soothed, touching her hair. "Give me this, please. This minute. Just let me hold you. I don't want anything else but to hold you, Sara."

"Okay," she whispered unsteadily. He knew. He knew she needed more time-another day to bond-another day to make the foundation stronger. He was giving her what she needed, and calling it his own. A tear pooled in the corner of her eye and spilled onto his shirt. He felt it, but said nothing.

"Thank you," she said, lifting her head, finally daring to look at him.

"My pleasure." He smiled salaciously, and she dipped her flushed face in a shy gesture that amused him. They sat in silence for a while longer, occasionally exchanging small pecks.

When she yawned and stretched, sitting up some, he said, "Why don't you go to bed?"

She blinked and tipped her head just a touch. "Are you sure you don't-"

His eyes assured her completely. He sat up and kissed her good night. "I'll see you in the morning." Then he walked to his room and closed the door, leaving her on the couch with her pants undone, and her heart completely open.

FOR A LONG TIME, she just stared sleepily at the white curtains of her room while blinking away the remnants of an uncharacteristically pleasant dream. She knew where she was and how she got here, yet, it all seemed so surreal to her still. Sara Sidle worked for a living-worked hard. Worked a LOT. Get up and go, don't sleep much, don't eat much, don't need much. But here, there was nothing to do. No lab to rush to, no scene to process. There was nothing to do but spend time with the man in the next room.

Get to know him, she instructed her subconscious firmly. Let him get to know you, she thought. Now is your chance. A slow, dreamy smile spread across her face. Make it happen.

She padded heavily to the dresser and examined her reflection in the mirror. Her lips wrinkled in mild horror. Her hair was monstrously disheveled, and her face held such pallor, she had to pinch her cheeks to be sure she was alive.

Glancing at her phone, her stomach tightened in fear. One message, blinked ominously on the LCD. Catherine's voice carried a wholly unnatural shrillness, and Sara winced briefly.

"Sara, it's Catherine. Look, uh, here's the deal... I don't care where you are, what you're doing, or... who you're doing, okay? I need Grissom to call me. I'm worried about his job, and... well, his mental stability. Is he all right? We all knew he'd snap one day, but this is just not how I thought it would happen. Please-please have him call me, or at the very least would you call me?"

Catherine's desperation, though typically melodramatic, made Sara feel a little guilty... although, not so guilty that she was willing to postpone her shower. She'd call her later.

It turns out Sara's shower was postponed anyway, by the rather large, black bug she found sitting near the drain of her tub. Several thoughts ran through her mind, initially. Turn the water on full blast and drown him. Get her shoe and squash him. Humanely flick him outside. Then something else occurred to her-something rather... sweet.

Her eyes never left the insect while she considered her options. "How am I gonna catch you, without touching you, you little bugger?"

She went to her nightstand and tore a piece of paper off the hotel stationery. Fortunately, the bug had no hidden wings and apparently couldn't hop. In fact, he didn't fight much at all when she scooped him onto the paper; he just sat there, enjoying the ride. She studied it a moment and then quietly proceeded to Grissom's room.

"Come in," he mumbled after she knocked twice.

Her jaw slackened a little when she saw him lying in bed, bare chest exposed enticingly. "Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I just... uh..."

He sat up, face full of concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just uh, found a, uh... You want this?" She carried the paper with the bug over to him and set it down on the bed.

Grissom stared at it for several seconds, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You brought me a bug?"

"I found him in my bathtub. I'm sure you can guess what the alternative was," she said, watching the bug for any sudden moves.

Grissom glared at her and pursed his lips at the thought of her killing a bug for no good reason. He reached for the insect book that was sitting on his nightstand and leaned closer to the bug, poking it gently, and then he blinked as he thought for a moment.

"Huh. I don't know what this is. Might be a hydrophilidae..." A sudden gleam appeared in his eye as he turned the pages of his book intently. He looked childlike and handsome, and Sara realized she was falling hard.

"Well, have fun with your new friend. I'm going to take a shower."

She started to leave the room when Grissom looked up. "Hey, wait. C'mere." He carefully moved the bug to his nightstand.

"What?"

He held out a hand, and his face relaxed into a smile. "C'mere." Sara glanced at his bare chest and the inviting bed, offering her own shy smile.

"What?" she said, sitting down on his bed, leaning toward him.

He put his arms around her and savored her charmingly disheveled appearance. "Thanks." Morning breath and all, he gave her a quick peck, which she returned. Then he did it again, and then they were kissing lazily in his bed.

Until Sara stopped, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Oh, uh... before I forget, Catherine called again," she mumbled, letting her mouth brush against his skin. This is what his shoulder tastes like, she thought briefly, wanting to lick him like an ice cream cone.

"And?"

Sara snapped out of her libidinous trance long enough to reply honestly, "She's worried about you." Grissom grunted quietly, running his fingers over her arm. "I think she's trying to be a friend. She uh... implied that... well..."

He shifted and gave her a look that indicated he wasn't following.

"They're all trained investigators," Sara sighed, nervously avoiding his eyes and studying his beard. "They know we're somewhere together."

"Oh. I expected that," he said calmly.

"You did?"

"You didn't?" Her subtle shrug puzzled him. "Sara, I always worried that... you wouldn't be up for the... potential ramifications," he stumbled. "I mean, if we can't hide it from them in Hawaii, we certainly won't be able to hide it from them in Las Vegas."

She shivered at the insinuation that they'd be together back home. "It'll take some adjusting," he added pensively, and Sara felt scared for the first time on this trip. This was real. The choices they made were going to bring consequences, and Grissom was willing to risk that. Why did he seem so unusually calm about all this? It was starting to freak her out.

"Yes, it will," Sara whispered back uncertainly. "I'm going to take that shower." She kissed him quickly and smiled to soften her abrupt departure.

"Okay," he nodded, watching her get off the bed. "I think I'm going to call Bob Trayger. He's the scientific director for the Lyon Arboretum at the University of Hawaii."

Sara crinkled her brow, curious.

"Fellow entomologist," he explained, "I was hoping he could show me some native specimens."

"Sounds fun," she nodded, but then her smile quickly fell. "I mean... um, I don't want you to feel like you have to entertain me the whole time we're here, but... would you mind if I came with you?" she asked hesitantly, leaning against the door jam.

"Of course not. I never decline a woman who's willing to look at insects with me."

"I've been looking at bugs with you for years," she reminded, "But I won't hold it against you, that it took you a while to-"

"I appreciate that," he interrupted, smirking as she left the room.

ECKLIE PARKED HIS CAR and looked out at the brown stucco building. "So this is where Gil Grissom lives," he mumbled to himself. After a short walk to the door labeled 3F, he looked down and immediately frowned, shifting his jaw with irritation. Counting each newspaper that landed haphazardly on the small porch, his anger began to swell. One for each day Grissom had supposedly been too sick to come to work. He knocked loudly on the door several times, but no one answered. No one was home. "Too sick to answer the door, too, Grissom?"

With a flick of his wrist, Ecklie opened his cell phone and punched in Grissom's home number. There was no answer, but he was all too happy to leave a message at the beep. "Grissom, you're not going to get away with this. I don't know where you are, but when I find out-you won't have a job to come back to."

He marched back to his car like a man on mission. Operation Bust Grissom-Sidle had only just begun.

SARA WATCHED A COUPLE exit their car at the base of the trail and then glanced at her watch. "Lakookoo's late," she said, trying not to laugh.

"He's getting dropped off by his mother, and it's Lukaka, Sara, not Lakookoo." Her giggle was quiet, but unmistakable. "I believe it's Hawaiian for Lucas," he explained seriously, making her laugh even harder.

"And he's how old again?" she asked when she calmed down.

"Thirteen. Bob says he knows more than anyone about Hawaiian insects. Some kind of phenom of entomology."

"A mini Gil Grissom in the making," she said, watching the entrance, "Named Lukaka."

"Stop it. He's just a kid."

"I'm not gonna tease him. I think it's a great name. Although, it does remind me of this little boy who used to lived next door to me back in the bay area. When he was toilet training he used to run around saying, "Gotta poopookaka. Gotta poopookaka."

Grissom rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Would you stop it? Hey, I think this might be him."

A short, fat, dark skinned boy got out of a little red hatch-back, looking around, studying faces like he was supposed to meet someone. His wide cheeks and happy demeanor made Sara like him already. He didn't seem like a typical attitude-ridden teenager at all.

"Lukaka?" Grissom asked hesitantly, reaching to shake the boy's hand.

"He told you my full name? Man, that son-of-a-bitch is gonna pay for that! Call me Luke," the boy said, shaking Grissom's hand enthusiastically. Sara's eyes were wide with shock. Little Lakookoo had a mouth on him.

"You're an entomologist?" Lukaka asked.

"Yes, forensic. I work at the crime lab in Las Vegas. This is Sara Sidle, she's a criminalist there as well." Lukaka shook her hand politely and offered up an excited grin.

"Bob spoke very highly of your knowledge of native insect species. He said you're the only person to have with you here."

"Yeah, well, he's just sucking up because he wants me to speak at some conference next month. I'm only thirteen for Christ's sake! I'm not getting up in front of a bunch of grown-ups like I invented the carabid beetle. He's crazy."

Grissom didn't quite know how to respond, and Sara was certainly at a loss.

"So, you wanna start the tour? This place is incredible. If we're lucky, we'll see the carnivorous caterpillars. They're wreaking havoc with the local damselfly population, but they're a sight to see." He held up his hands in a claw-like fashion. "Evil little tarsal claws-it's wild, man."

Sara chuckled at Lukaka's eagerness as they made their way along the muddy trail. It was several hours into the personal tour that Lukaka startled her. "Sure you two don't want to do this alone?" he asked.

Grissom had wandered a few feet ahead, and Sara was perplexed. They hadn't even touched each other all day. "What? Wh-why would we want to be alone?"

"Because when he's not looking at a bug, he's looking at you," he replied plainly.

"Oh." Sara felt her blush rise up her cheeks as she watched Grissom studying something on a tree fern branch.

"I may be a kid, but even I know what that means. Not that I blame him, really. You've got that whole tall thing goin' on. Looks good on you." Lukaka wiggled his eyebrows shamelessly.

"Thank you, Luke. Moving on," she smiled.

A few hours later, Luke and Grissom exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses, promising to keep in touch and talk about current entomological findings. Everyone shook hands again, and the boy climbed back into his mother's hatchback. The drive back to the hotel was quiet and serene, as the sun began its descent in the distance.

"WHY CAN'T I JUST send her an e-mail?" Grissom grumbled, glaring at Sara's cell phone that was sitting on the little coffee table.

"Just do it."

"It's too obvious. You should call her. We don't need to announce to the world that we took a vacation together." It was killing him, and Sara could tell. His privacy was something he guarded, and Catherine... well, who knows how she'd react.

"What am I going to say if I call her?" she asked, staring at the phone too. "Hi, Cath, I'm off on a quick tour of Hawaii-if I bump into Grissom, I'll let you know?"

"Play dumb, for now-"

"Grissom, you didn't hear her last message. She knows..."

A quiet moment followed, and then Sara huffed a little sigh. "Fine, I'll call her. Can I at least tell her that you're okay?" She paused, and then looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

He studied her eyes and reached for her hand. "I don't know. I miss work, Sara. I don't regret coming here, but I'm... still pissed off about Ecklie. I don't want to think about it, yet."

She offered a sympathetic smile and nodded emphatically. "Okay. You sound fine to me."

He leaned closer and kissed her. "Let's have dinner out on the balcony. I'll call and arrange it. You can call Catherine." He got up and went to his bedroom, leaving Sara to her cell phone.

"FINALLY!" CATHERINE SQUEALED as she answered. "What the heck is going on?"

"Uh, hi, Cath. Nothing's going on. Just took a last minute vacation. I needed some... personal time, I guess."

The blonde promptly rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okaaay, and what's the word on Mr. Mid-life crisis who I'm sure is not with you, wherever you are?"

"He's not with me," Sara lied, and then she added cryptically, "but I think he's fine, too."

Before Catherine could reply, Sara corrected herself, "I mean, except for that... flu." This was ridiculous. "Anyway, just wanted to check in. Feel free to forget we had this conversation. Everything's fine. I'm fine... other people are... fine. Yeah, well, I gotta go now. Lemme know if anything really awful happens at the lab. Or, uh, not," she stumbled, realizing she didn't want to know if anything awful happened. "Bye."

"Sara!"

Sara put down her phone. Her heart was pounding. This wasn't good. She took a deep breath and tried not to think about how much trouble Grissom was in. She didn't even give Catherine a chance to say anything! She was chewing on her lip nervously when he waltzed out of his room.

"Dinner will be up in half an hour."

"Great!" She got off the couch and made her way to him, wrapping him in a warm hug.

"How bad is it?" he asked softly into her hair.

"Not bad. Well, I didn't give her a chance to say anything, really. We're on vacation," she announced, a hint of desperation in her voice. "We'll find out when we get home." She kissed his neck and under his ear and then his lips, and then they were both sufficiently distracted.

THEY WATCHED THE LUAU from the balcony, having finished their meal some time earlier. Happy tourists were eating and dancing and being generally entertained on the beach. It was fun just sitting together, alone, listening to the waves and watching the festivities below.

"Do you ever look at strangers and wonder if they'll end up murdered one day?" Grissom asked out of the blue, just as the people on the beach began to fan out and go inside for the evening.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," she nodded.

"Really?" He was shocked and truly thought he was the only one who did that.

"Yep." She swirled the last of her wine as she continued, "And sometimes I'll see someone and think, oh, yeah, he's totally gonna snap and kill somebody someday."

He was blinking at her, really seeing her as both a woman and forensic scientist. It was quiet for a few minutes as he took in her features, and she averted her eyes bashfully. Work kept creeping into his mind. The significance of it overwhelmed him. Functioning in a personal relationship with a fellow CSI, not to mention a subordinate, would be problematical even for a socially confident man, which he was not.

"We do tend to take our jobs home with us, don't we?"

"Hard not to," she agreed sadly.

He reached across the table and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "And if both of us do that, it might make for a lot of... tension," he said cautiously, knowing how difficult and withdrawn he could be.

"Oh, I don't know," she argued softly, "Another CSI understands the depth of the job, how it affects a person, how we need time to decompress and come down, how important is it to have diversions and... alone time." She watched him, wondering if he believed her, if he understood what she was saying. He could be himself with her, always. "Who better to understand that than someone who struggles with it, too?"

Grissom just stared at her. He'd never thought of it that way and honestly never realized it could be like that-with her. He had underestimated her maturity and overall thoughtfulness.

"Want to go to the beach?" she blurted, rendering the weighty conversation over for the time being.

He looked confused. "At night?"

"Yeah. C'mon, I bought this cool woven blanket that first day here. We can take it with us and build a fire. It'll be nice." She was already standing up, piling their dishes back onto the room service tray.

Grissom watched her, and, in the back of his head, he kept thinking there was no way he was going to have sex with her for the first time in a mess of sand. Why did women have these impractical fantasies? Sand hurt. Besides being utterly unsanitary and very public. Wait a second, Sara was the Queen of cleanliness. She wouldn't do that. Would she? Besides, he would never rush her. Things had moved faster than he'd dare to hope they would, but he knew there was still more they should talk about. He wanted to reassure her that he wasn't playing games, that he wasn't-

When he realized she'd already headed inside, he shook off his thoughts and said, "Okay, sure..."

THEY WALKED FOR A LONG time, holding hands and talking quietly. Eventually, they realized they were off the hotel's beach property, in a public zone with secluded little areas formed by huge rocks and small fire pits. It was hard to ignore the romantic overtones as they stared at the fire they built, sitting on Sara's blanket, leaning against the cool rocks.

Hours passed and the evening took on a magical quality. Somehow, by the light of the fire, with the waves crashing beside them, so far from Las Vegas, they could talk about it all. Sara told him about her family, about the months her father spent in court-ordered drug rehab and how, during that time, her mother went on a heroin binge and forgot to pick her up from school three days in a row. Social services intervened, and her mother ended up in jail for six months. Sara and her brother were put in foster care for a while. She briefly skimmed the parts about her first real boyfriend, who tried to control her physically and emotionally. It shaped who she was, she admitted, but she swore it didn't affect her that much anymore.

Her attraction to him had grown stronger over the past years, and finally it became a part of her that she simply couldn't ignore anymore. She pressed her nose into his chest when she explained that the need to explore a more intimate relationship with him had weighed heavily on her. She was never completely certain her feelings were reciprocated.

They shared a few comforting kisses, the passion ebbing and flowing between them like the ocean nearby. It was hard, fighting the need to become even more intimate, but the conversation needed to be had.

He reluctantly told her about growing up without a father, how long he struggled with his fear of abandonment, and how every woman he ever cared about tried to change him and felt she had to compete with his work. No woman ever won.

He admitted that he never wanted to put his work second until he met Sara, and that scared him more than anything-to feel that strongly about someone he didn't even know that well. Her age difference further complicated matters, often leaving him angry at himself for being attracted to her. But still, he felt so strongly connected on so many levels. He'd just never felt like that before, and it made him push her away-until Ecklie's shift change made him realize how twisted his priorities truly were. It was something he'd known all along, but was unwilling to accept until now. It was time to change.

They made out for a long time, occasionally taking breaks to whisper and breathe. Just before dawn, Sara fell asleep in his arms. He noticed the brightening of the sky and gently nudged her. "Hey, wake up. Look."

He watched her blink sleepily as she snuggled into him for warmth, gazing out at the sun poking up over the ocean's horizon. "Wow. Pretty," she slurred, and he kissed her cheek.

"It's a brand new day," he whispered.

And it was.

"Hmm. Tired," Sara mumbled.

"Let's go back to the hotel." He squeezed her and nibbled her ear from behind. "Would you like to sleep with me?"

She answered immediately, "Mmhmm," and yawned and stretched. They stood up, and Grissom started folding the blanket.

"Maybe after we sleep, we can get to know each other better," she said huskily, slamming against him and planting a big, wet kiss on his mouth-effectively shutting herself up before she said anything even more stupid.

It took him several seconds to muster a reply. "Sounds like an enjoyable way to spend my day," he deadpanned, wrapping his arms around her.

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