Rating: R
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Still. All that wishing and still nothing.
Summary: Hm... for lack of a better summary, it's the Thanksgiving one.
Chapter 4
Lunch was a pleasant enough experience, but it was interrupted by a lengthy phone call from Catherine. Sara sat patiently while Grissom was filled in on several cases and asked his opinion regarding
a few procedural options. When Catherine started asking about his mother and how his trip was going, he shifted in his chair and glanced at his lunch companion.
Sensing his discomfort, Sara got up from her chair to give him some privacy. He wrinkled his face and grabbed her hand to stop her, pointing dramatically to her seat. She sat back down, focusing on
creating the perfect bite of salad vegetables on her fork, while Grissom briefly talked about his family. He didn't mention the fact that he had brought someone home with him, and for some reason, it
made her smile.
Grissom eventually got off the phone, and they ended up talking about all of the cases they were missing at work. They headed back to his mother's house after lunch, the car unusually quiet. Neither
of them had any real sense of what was going on between them. Were they officially giving this a go? Grissom felt anxious and confused. Sara felt tired. Both opted for silence.
The afternoon was lazy. Grissom had found some old entomology textbooks in his bedroom closet and was browsing through them. His mother, enjoying her extra day off from the gallery, had a black and
white movie on cable TV. Sara stretched out on the couch that doubled as her bed, trying to stay awake and follow the film. She was unsuccessful, drifting to sleep easily in the daytime hours.
Sitting in the recliner with two texts open on his lap, Grissom felt his mother's hand tap his foot. He looked over to the loveseat where she was sitting, a questioning look on his face. She pointed
across the room at Sara, sound asleep on the couch.
He gave a crooked smile and signed, 'Let her sleep. We're all out of whack. She didn't sleep much last night.'
She smiled too and nodded. After glancing at Sara again, she signed, 'This is the Sara from San Francisco?'
Grissom nodded.
'So she works for you now, right?'
He nodded again, wondering where she was going with this.
His mother watched her sleep a moment more. She turned back to him, and in that one glance Grissom could see she knew it all somehow. 'I like her," she signed with a smile.
'So do I."
'I know.'
'We're not involved,' he signed impulsively. Or were they? He hated that he wasn't quite sure.
'I know. I was just playing with her earlier. I assume she told you.'
'Well, stop it. You embarrassed her.'
'Oh, I'm not doing any harm,' she signed pursing her lips in sweet defiance.
Grissom was not entirely comfortably talking about this. He couldn't remember a time when he openly discussed his love life with his mother. Ever. Surely she wasn't going to start meddling now. Her
hands caught his attention.
'So what's the problem?'
He let out a long sigh and stared at the floor. By not looking at her, he was sending her a clear signal that he did not want to talk about it. The last thing he needed was a lecture from her. He
looked over at Sara, curled up in a ball. He had a sudden urge to cover her up. So he did. Completely ignoring his mother's questioning, he walked over to Sara and opened up the blanket, covering her
up to her shoulders. For a fleeting moment he considered kissing her cheek, but he refrained. When he went back to his seat, he noticed his mother's intensive stare, eyebrows raised as if to say,
"I'm waiting."
'It's complicated,' he signed finally.
She nodded patronizingly. 'She's good for you.' Her face held a look of uncertainty. She didn't want to make him angry, but she couldn't hold back her opinion. Her son wasn't getting any
younger. Did he really want to be alone for the rest of his life?
'You are so smart, you know," she began. 'You use that exceptional brain of yours, and you focus on your evidence and your scientific facts, and... " She stopped, realizing he already
knew what he was like; there was no need to point out the obvious. 'Sometimes... well, honey, sometimes it looks like you get yourself in these situations and you just... don't know what to
do.'
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at her, shifting his jaw angrily. 'I've never been in this particular situation before,' he signed quickly shaking his head gravely.
'So what?' she signed back immediately. 'What is your heart telling you to do?' He just stared at her, recalling his conversations with Sara at the gallery. 'I promise it's not as
hard as you make it out to be,' she signed. 'That instinctive feeling in your gut when you're around her-just follow it. Really, Gil, nothing else matters.'
His eyes flew to hers again. That was exactly what Sara was trying to tell him-to focus on what really mattered. He felt more confused than ever. Didn't rules matter? Didn't facts matter at
all? She did work for him. He was a lot older than her. Was he supposed to just ignore those things and throw caution to the wind, diving into a physical relationship with her and satisfying his
innermost desires?
'Mom--' he stopped, refusing to look at her hands any more. He stood up abruptly, glancing to see if Sara was still asleep. 'I didn't sleep well last night either. I'm going to lie down.'
Her words stayed with him though, while he tried to rest. His mother's words and his morning with Sara replayed vividly in his mind.
He had kissed her-not once, but twice.
She just wanted him to try.
It wasn't long before he knew what he wanted. He wanted to try too.
~*~
After napping for a few hours, Grissom awoke to the smell of his mother's cooking. He passed Sara, still sleeping on the couch, and wandered out to the kitchen to find his mother busily working. She
caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, and she gasped, quite startled.
'Don't sneak up on me!' she signed.
He laughed lightly, having forgotten how sensitive she was to that. 'Sorry.'
She set down the spoon she was holding and stared at him. 'I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to stick my nose where it didn't belong.' She wrinkled her lips nervously, melting his heart. He
walked up to her and hugged her tightly, kissing her on the forehead. Leaning back, he mouthed silently, "I love you."
She smiled broadly and mouthed the same thing back. When he released her she signed, 'I just want you to be happy."
He nodded tiredly and mouthed, "I know."
'Is she going to eat with us?' she signed, tipping her head toward the living room.
'I'll wake her up,' he replied with a quick nod, leaving the room.
He stood over her for a minute, just watching her. "Sara," he said softly. She didn't wake, and he considered just leaving her to sleep. Then again, he reasoned, she had already slept over four
hours. He squatted next to her face and ran his fingers over her hair. Unable to resist this time, he leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her cheek, lingering much longer than necessary. She
turned her head, and her eyes fluttered open. He found her shocked, yet sleepy expression quite amusing.
"Think you're dreaming?" he teased, his voice sweet and low.
She stared at him, trying to make sense of the situation. Regaining some composure, she narrowed her drowsy eyes and nodded slowly. In a throaty voice she deadpanned, "Nightmare."
Holding back a laugh, he just smirked at her. Then suddenly he lunged forward, tickling her mercilessly until she squealed. She sat up, patting down her hair and still trying to catch her breath.
"All right, who are you, and what have you done with Gil Grissom?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but his mother poked her head in the room, announcing dinner was ready. He turned back to Sara and shrugged.
It seemed like they had just finished dinner when his mother excused herself to bed. Sara wondered if she purposely intended to leave them alone for the evening. They settled on the loveseat and
watched television, sitting close together, but not really touching. Sara truly had no idea what was going on in that mind of his.
During a particular boring set of commercials she turned and sat sideways, bending her knees so her feet rested next to his thigh. "So," she sighed.
He looked at her a moment, and then casually reached for her legs, moving them so they rested across his lap.
"What are we doing?" she asked with a smile.
"We're watching television." He did not turn to face her.
"Gris-som."
"I don't know, Sara. What do you want to do?" he asked, a suggestive gleam in his eye.
She couldn't stop the enormous grin that spread across her face.
He shook his head, feeling himself blush. "Come here," he said gruffly, pulling on her hand till she was sitting beside him again, this time with his arm wrapped around her. Her legs still lay across
him intimately. She settled into his side and realized sadly that she could get used to this. If he would just let her. She felt very conflicted inside, still uncertain if she should trust his
affections, however unassuming they might be.
He played with her fingers for a while and occasionally touched her hair while they watched TV, familiarizing himself with her physically. Though he certainly enjoyed their closeness, it puzzled him.
He started to wonder if this was the only time they would be like this. They were so far away from work and Las Vegas. It felt safe.
"What do you think we'd be doing if we were in Vegas right now?" he asked suddenly.
Sara glanced at the clock and noted the time. "We'd be processing a scene or working at the lab. I'd be pouting and you'd be ignoring me," she said lightly, though Grissom didn't take it that
way.
"Mm"
She wanted to kick herself. Way to ruin a moment, Sidle. "Or maybe it wouldn't be like that at all," she added softly, looking up at him apprehensively.
He raised one side of his mouth in a slight smile, which she found comforting. "I hope it wouldn't be like that," he said sadly, gathering her closer to him. They didn't talk for a long time, both of
them still absorbing the moment, still trying to decide if it was real.
"This is nice," he declared finally, his lips dangerously close to her ear.
Sara hummed her agreement, but she started to wonder why he wouldn't just kiss her. She was tempted to do it herself, but she decided he needed to figure this out and make his own move. Maybe this
wasn't what he wanted. But then, why was he holding her? She wished he would just talk to her, but she knew it wasn't his style. At least he said it was nice. That must mean something, coming from
the man of few words. Maybe he just wanted to take it slow physically. That thought bewildered her, considering they had known each other for so long. Tired from over thinking the situation, she
yawned instinctively.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked, his voice low and tempting again.
She didn't fall for it this time. "I guess, although I do feel like I slept all day. My couch awaits," she announced, extricating herself from his lap.
He turned off the TV and slowly stood up, still occupying her personal space. His mother's silent advice was somehow ringing in his ears. Nothing else matters.
"You know, we could easily just share the bed."
She almost blurted a sarcastic 'why?' but decided that wouldn't be very nice. "I'm sure we could, but given the circumstances, I don't think that's a good idea."
They exchanged awkward smirks, neither quite sure what the other was thinking. He ran his fingers slowly down her arm, eventually linking them with hers. "On the contrary, given the circumstances...
I think it's a very good idea."
Sara contemplated his words, staring at him, completely unsure of herself. "Grissom," she protested softly, an embarrassed flush to her face. Was he actually suggesting what she thought he was
suggesting?
"It's okay," he said with a smile, but he still sounded disappointed. "I understand."
"No, you don't," she spat out immediately, still confused. "I... I... " She didn't know what to say. He inched his way closer to her.
"Sara, it's okay," he soothed, turning his head to peck her cheek. He found himself lingering near her and wrapped his other arm around her, needing to feel her warmth for just a moment. He didn't
intend to pressure her, although he suspected that would be the result. She tugged almost imperceptibly on his hand, pulling him closer still, until they were hugging.
Sara felt her resolve weakening quickly. She knew this would be a mistake. They would go home to Las Vegas and probably never speak of it again. He would shut down; she would get angry. Her senses
were playing tricks on her, making it so she couldn't think. God, he smelled good. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Him? His bed? No, she wanted more, didn't she? She couldn't remember, but
this... this closeness... this was definitely something she wanted. She couldn't take it anymore. Making a fast, deliberate decision, she started walking purposefully toward the bedroom, pulling him
from behind.
Neither of them said a word.
~*~
She returned from the bathroom and slipped into the bed wearing the same boxer shorts and tank top she had slept in the previous night. His mouth gaping slightly, Grissom stood dazed a moment next to
the bed. What the hell was he doing? He knew what his body was telling him, but what if his mind just hadn't caught up to tell him how stupid he was being? Clad in his t-shirt and pajama pants, he
hesitantly climbed into bed, every nerve ending on his skin receptive to her body's heat.
They rolled to face each other, shy smiles replaced with intense gazes, eyes trailing attentively. He could feel the intensity of the moment building, yet he was quite frozen, unable to make a move
or say a word. Something deep inside him knew that if he held her or kissed her he wouldn't be able to stop. He needed more time to sort that out and prepare himself.
Sara shivered, partly from her nerves and partly from the cool sheets beneath and above her body. Then again, she wondered if it was just an instinctive ploy to get him to hold her. She wanted him to
hold her; she needed him to kiss her. If he didn't do something soon she thought she might just scream.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm just cold," she lied. She was trembling. This was too surreal for her.
"Well, come here," he grumbled sweetly, moving his arm so she could lay her head on his chest. He decided it wasn't the right moment to lecture her about wearing shorts and a tank top to bed in
November. He rubbed up her back and shoulder with his hand, his natural warmth encompassing her.
Her nose was touching his bearded chin, and she still couldn't believe he hadn't kissed her yet. All she could think about was how awake she was. It felt so strange, trying to force sleep at
night-even stranger, trying to force sleep at night in a bed with Grissom. There was nothing to do but want him. Her leg bent and slithered over his, only making her predicament worse. Finally,
she couldn't resist any longer, and she pecked his chin once.
He turned his head slightly, letting his lips brush her cheek for just a second. This was a bad idea. There's no way he could stop himself from making love to her if they started kissing in bed.
His hands strayed up her back and around to her face, his fingers stroking her soft skin. The urge to kiss her was unbelievable. He moved closer to her and kissed her face, right next to her lips. He
could not stop caressing her; she was entirely too tempting. The rational side of his brain was screaming for him to stop, flooding his mind with mental images, flashes really, of potential
consequences. His heart pounded as he conjured up disastrous repercussions at the lab, their prospective careers ruined, and friendships destroyed.
All he could picture was her hurting... and crying. But in another part of his brain, he was there to comfort her and hold her, no matter what the repercussions-much like he was right now. That
was important, the fact that he could even visualize himself behaving that way. That was what mattered. If he treated her right, if he was honest with her, nothing else would matter.
"Sara," he whispered. She moved her face to his neck and breathed out onto his skin.
"Grissom." She was about to cry, and cursed herself for getting so emotional. "Please don't toy with me."
He didn't know what to say. His fingers still played in her hair gently. "Sara--"
"I mean it. You can't lead me on this far... and then--"
"Sara," he said more persistently. His hand kept stroking her face, trying to get her to look at him. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, hugging her and comforting her. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I
never meant to hurt you."
"I know." Her lips pressed to his neck involuntarily.
"You have to believe me Sara; I didn't mean to lead you on. I just... " He kissed her hair and knew there was no use struggling against this anymore.
"I know," she whispered, moving her face to kiss his cheek.
He took the opportunity to grab her face, gently cradling it between his hands. "Sara, I don't think I can fight this anymore. I don't know how it's going to work, but I--"
She interrupted him, kissing the corner of his mouth, enticing him beyond belief. He gave up completely, slowly moving his lips over hers, savoring the sensation. Given the intensity of the moment,
they were both surprised they didn't immediately plunge into passion.
He could not pull himself away from her and had to talk through his kisses. "Sara, please don't give up on me."
She apparently struggled with the same problem, still kissing him while she responded. "I won't... unless you pretend this didn't happen when we get back. If you start ignoring me again, I... I
might... "
"Sara," he whispered, staring into her open eyes. "I can't ignore you anymore." He kissed her once more and began trailing his lips down her neck. "Can't you see that?"
"Good, because I might have to kill you if you do," she said, the words coming out more seriously than she intended.
He smiled anyway.
They spent the next half hour kissing and caressing each other, rolling around in the bed. Though neither made a move beyond that, Sara could tell things were escalating quickly. Their location
started to cause her anxiety.
"Grissom, I can't do this in your mother's house," she breathed out between passionate kisses.
"Sara," he groaned, "she can't hear anything." He moved his mouth over her neck, continually coming across new areas of skin he found appealing. He kissed toward her ear, intent on further arousing
her.
"I know, but it's... it's... " when he reached his destination, she was reduced to mumbling incoherently.
They continued for hours, keeping their explorations mainly to lips, faces and necks, until Grissom couldn't do it anymore. He needed to touch her. He needed to have her. "Sara, I can't be this close
to you and not make love to you, so... honey you're going to have to be the one to stop this," he said, his hand moving purposefully under her shirt.
"I don't want to stop this," she whispered breathlessly.
"I'm not kidding," he warned.
"Neither am I."
The passion was officially kicked up a notch.
He began working her out of her shorts, the task taking longer than he anticipated. "God, you have long legs," he said in mock-complaint. Her only response was to yank forcefully on his t-shirt until
he removed it. She skillfully freed him from the rest of his clothes rather quickly.
Hearing her emit an unusual grunt, Grissom knew he did something wrong. Her head was temporarily caught in her shirt.
"Sorry."
"Mm."
He wrapped his arms around her, still feeling bad about catching her hair. "I'm not being very smooth here."
"I noticed," she teased, moving back to his lips.
"It's been a while."
"Mm."
"I'm sure it'll all come back to me."
"I'm sure it will," she laughed.
A few minutes later she was laying across him, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. There was no clothing left to separate their bare skin and the sensation was exhilarating.
"I don't think I can do this, Grissom; I feel like we're going to get busted any second!"
"We're not going to get busted," he laughed. He kissed over her face, stopping to look her in the eye. "Trust me."
"I do trust you," she said heavily. "I hope you know that."
A significant pang of guilt washed over him. She trusted him, after everything he had done. He had to make it up to her and show her how important she was to him, how much he cared about her.
Sara distracted him from his thoughts when she pushed herself up, her hands next to his shoulders, her legs on either side of him. They locked eyes, both silently indicating that it was time.
She gasped audibly.
"Am I hurting you?"
His face held a panicked look of utter concern that made her heart melt. "No," she whispered, shaking her head adamantly. "It's just... been awhile," she added with an embarrassed smile.
"Come here," he said softly, kissing her and pulling her down to lie on his chest. "Just... lay here with me, please... " He continued kissing her, letting her relax more. With incredibly slow
movements, they eventually joined and began moving together.
"Are you all right?" he breathed out onto her ear.
"I'm fine." With Sara controlling most of their movements, it was quite an unhurried affair. Every movement was a deliberate action, drawing out each sensation almost to the point of euphoria.
Grissom felt such a myriad of emotions; he couldn't focus on just one. He frequently opened his eyes, only to find her eyes smiling back at him, making the moment even more exhilarating. He decided
that it was finally time to make this right with her, to shift his priorities and allow her in his life completely, whatever the ramifications.
"This is nice," he whispered, holding her face close to his.
The man of few words strikes again, Sara thought. She nodded briefly. "It's very... intimate."
"You could say that," he smiled, before capturing her lips passionately. He pulled away a moment later, resting his forehead against hers. "I have always wanted to be this close to you."
"You always could have," she replied softly, making his heart leap.
Their quiet moans became more frequent as the pace steadily increased.
"Sara, I... " He couldn't talk. She was everywhere. For so long she had occupied his thoughts and now she was physically here with him. He was playing on a new level, a wonderfully unfamiliar level.
"I... "
"What?" She put her hands on his face and pressed her lips to his cheek. This was nothing like she had ever experienced. She found it ironic that her most emotional sexual experience would be with a
man so many people considered emotionally repressed.
"Sara... " he whispered again, a distinct defeated tone to his breathy voice.
She kissed all over his face, trying to reassure him. "Tell me."
"I need you." He knew he would not be able to hold on much longer.
"I know."
"No, I don't just mean like this." He couldn't explain further. She would just have to understand. "I need you," he said again, searching her eyes. "I think--"
He could feel the last vestiges of fear leaving him as the physical release drew nearer.
"What?" She was too close; the time for talking was ending.
"I think I'm in love with you."
That was enough to send her over the edge.
There was no more talking after that.
~*~
It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. One thing was certain though. She was alone. Sitting up on her elbows, she stared at his side of the bed. Oh my God, he's done it already. That
didn't take long. Her mouth stayed open as tears filled her eyes.
His timing was impeccable. Rapping lightly on his old bedroom door, he opened it to find her unreadable, teary-eyed face staring back at him. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting down next to
her.
He was showered and dressed and appeared to be so concerned. Sara was terribly confused. "Where've you been?" she asked finally.
"Oh. I've been out there," he said plainly, bobbing his head toward the living room and assuming she understood why.
She didn't.
He started to smile. "Sara, yesterday you flipped out because my mother thought we were involved. I didn't think you'd appreciate her making assumptions because neither of us was sleeping on the
couch. So I went out there just before she got up this morning."
Sara closed her eyes and laughed into the pillow. My God, he was being sweet. "You snuck around for me?"
"I guess so," he smiled, realizing that was what he did.
"Thanks," she whispered, leaning over to kiss him.
"I'm sure you'll get an opportunity to reciprocate someday soon."
Staring at the bed, she squinted her eyes a moment. "Although... her assumptions would have been correct... "
"Yeah, yeah. Get up. It's almost 9:00."
"So what?" She vaguely recalled him saying he wanted to head back in the afternoon.
"I have to take you by the gallery; my mother just left for work. She'll kill me if she doesn't get to at least say goodbye to you."
"We have time," she said, stretching lazily. "Come here," she said sweetly. They kissed a while on the bed, before he finally pulled away from her and got up.
"Get up and get ready," he ordered as she sat up leisurely.
"Why?"
"Because I want to get moving," he replied hurriedly.
Sara stared at him curiously. "Why?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying to ignore her body's protests.
"Because," he began, taking her hand and pulling her up to stand before him, "I want to take you home." He kissed her firmly on the mouth, and then hugged her almost desperately.
He knew she would doubt his ability to handle their relationship back in Las Vegas, and he was eager to get home and prove himself to her. The only way to show her he could do it was just to do it.
He moved to look in her eyes, trying to show her how much he needed this, how much he needed her. Kissing her cheek softly, he repeated again, "I want to take you home."
- The End -
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Oh, and for the person who asked about the artwork in the last chapter-I totally made that all up. Seemed like a babbling bunch of nonsense to me! I'm glad you were intrigued. :)