Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I had to write this post-ep. Mainly because TPTB totally rocked Grissom's last episode. But also because Cropper asked for smut. It's not a smutty as it could have been but it does qualify. Also, the title comes from the conversation Grissom and Catherine were having at the end of episode 9x07.
Many, many thanks to both mingsmommy and losingintranslation for all their help. I'd be worthless without them.
Nothing worth having ever comes easy. – Anonymous
The stench of exhaust left by the van lingers long after the engine noise has faded. I stand in the gravel parking area taking in the scenery until I can draw my first breath of cool mountain air. Slowly, I turn to look behind me. Back there is my past and everything I imagined I wanted. Without a second thought, I turn around and lift my gaze to the mountains before me. Here is my future. Here is where I belong.
Saying good-bye was hard. Maybe the hardest thing I've ever done. The people, the lab techs and CSIs, are my family. But so much was missing. Too much.
I couldn't bring Warrick back. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't even begin to raise the dead. But I could make a decision on the direction of my life. I could take control. I could have what I wanted.
At least, I hoped I could.
It wasn't easy. Finding Sara. The Sea Shepherd sails to many different locations. Not just the Galapagos Islands. After a little checking, I determined she hadn't chosen to walk in the footsteps of Darwin after all. It took me over a month to learn she was in Costa Rica, one of many stops for the Sea Shepherd. She was there. Living life. Without me.
So, I packed. I packed up my office. I put our furniture in storage and hired a realtor to rent out the townhouse. I made arrangements for Hank. I stopped my mail. I canceled my newspapers. And when I left CSI for the last time there really was no cake in the break room. Instead, everyone was concentrating on the business of catching bad guys, doing what I had taught them to do. Only Catherine saw me go. And she let me leave the way I wanted…quietly.
It was as I had always known it would be. And it was good.
Everything I took with me fit into the backpack I had purchased right after I bought my plane ticket. It seemed odd to see my entire world reduced to nothing more than basic necessities. Khaki pants and loose shirts and thick socks and underwear. Hiking boots and a toothbrush. Soap and toothpaste. A notebook and a camera. That's it. Fifty-three years and that's all it came down to.
I arrived in Costa Rica just as the sun was setting and took a cab to the Monteverde Lodge at the base of the Cordillera de Tilaran mountain range. After a breakfast of eggs with cheese, gallo pinto and toast, all washed down with strong black coffee, I purchased a couple bottles of water and boarded the bus that would take me to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Preserve.
Exiting the bus in front of the Ranger's station, I settle my favorite straw hat firmly on my head and shrug the backpack up onto my shoulders. I enter the rustic structure and, in Spanish so rusty it is almost useless, I make sure I had the correct trailhead. After much gesturing and more than a little laughter, I am on my way.
It is a blessedly cool morning in early February when I begin my hike. My senses are assailed with the sights and sounds and smells of the rainforest. The calling of birds is underscored by the deep, throaty voices of thousands of frogs. The tops of the trees rustle in the breeze that never quite makes it to the forest floor. The path is cleared but the ground is soft underneath my feet. The smells of decay fight for dominance with the rich green scent of new life. All around me is nature in its purest form.
The winding path climbs steadily and before long my shirt is soaked through with sweat. I pause a few times to drink a little water and look around. I tell myself I'm not stalling. I tell myself that my heart is racing from the climb. But the truth is I am scared. And excited. And desperate. And, if things don't work out the way I hope, homeless.
Never, not once in my whole life, have I done something this impetuous. Even with all my planning, I left the biggest part to chance. Sara. She is the wildcard. The great unknown.
The path curves in front of me and I see a break in the trees. My stomach clenches and my hands shake. I keep walking and then I see her. Her back is to me and I can't move, can't speak. I simply stare at her. Long and lean, and just as I remember. She is the same woman who has haunted my dreams for more than ten years. She is the one woman I couldn't let walk away. And I silently pray I'm not too late.
As I watch, her head cocks to the side and, even from behind, I can almost see her eyebrows drawing down in a frown. She feels my eyes on her. She has always been able to do that. I could never hide anything from her. She turns around.
It is her eyes. Surprised and confused and glad to see me. Her chin trembles and she is on the verge of tears. And that is all I need to know. I'm not sure what happens then, but my backpack is on the ground and Sara is in my arms and her mouth is on mine and everything else fades away. I just want to feel her, hold her, taste her. Her tears are on my cheeks and mine on hers. I can feel her body trembling against me and I pull her tight.
My lips are on her cheeks, her hair, her chin. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I've ever known. Beautiful in her strength of character, and her drive, and her brilliance. Beautiful. And I love her.
Sara pulls back and looks at me with wild eyes. "What…? Where…?" She is smiling and crying and laughing all at once.
"Can that wait for just a bit?" I gently kiss the tears from her soft skin. I feel her nod and I sigh. "Good. Because I can't be without you for another minute."
"Huh?" Sara shivers when my lips skate over her ear and I press my growing erection against her. "Ooooooh." Then she steps a little closer to me, threading her fingers through my hair, knocking my hat off in the process. With a groan, she drags my lips back to hers and kisses me, long and deep and needy.
My mind melts. I can't think. Honestly, when I was making all these plans, I had a speech all prepared. I would tell her all the things she deserved to hear. I would beg for her forgiveness. I would throw myself on her mercy. But I can't remember a word of that. Nothing. All I know is that she wants me.
Finally, she pulls away. "Get your things and follow me." She begins to back away, beckoning me with the promise in her smile. "Hurry," her husky command breaks the spell. I quickly do her bidding and we circle around the research tent to follow another path for about a hundred yards.
It is a hut; small and clean with a narrow bed against one wall, a rough table in the center and not much else. Only a fireplace, blackened from use and age, and a propane cook top with two burners.
She turns to face me, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "It's not much…" She shrugs and looks a little embarrassed, chewing her lower lip while she waits for me to say something.
"Sara." Her name feels so good on my lips and my voice breaks from the sheer emotional release. "Sara," I start again, "I don't care about this." I wave my hand around at the utilitarian room, dismissing it.
I take a few steps in her direction and her eyes widen. Her pupils are huge, the whiskey brown nearly black with desire. I can smell her. Not just the light, sweet sweat that covers her body, but the earthier musk of her arousal. My eyes drift closed and I draw in a deep breath, feeling my body tighten in response to her. Need is coiled low in my belly and I am waging a war against my desire to take her on the nearest flat surface.
I didn't come here to stake my claim. I came here to be with her on her terms, to show her that my priorities were finally where they should be. But my fingers tingle with the need to feel her skin. My mouth longs to taste her, to slide along the slope of her breast and across her stomach and lower, until I feel her let go.
On weak knees, I close the distance between us and raise a trembling hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. I simply stand there for a moment, looking at her, letting my eyes trace the features I know as well as I know my own. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. I file away each and every nuance so I can never forget the day I truly began to live.
Sara watches me watching her. She stands quietly, her hands down by her sides, not moving for several minutes. Then, with a little growl, she wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses me. And it feels just like our first kiss. Wet and wild, teeth bumping, lips and tongues sliding together.
Her fingers are on the buttons of my shirt, shoving each one through the button hole until my chest is bare. She slips her hands beneath the material, shoving it off my shoulders. Then she is touching me. Her hands are soft and smooth against my skin and I groan in response, my hands coming up to grasp her hips. But when she pulls her mouth from mine and begins to lick along my sweat-slick neck my control is lost.
I can't touch enough of her. We fumble with buttons and zippers and laces, laughing through our impatient groans. Suddenly, surprisingly, we are skin to skin on the tiny bed. The sheets are rough underneath us, the mattress lumpy. But then Sara's hands are on my back, her legs are tangled with mine, and my body is screaming with need. I want very much to finesse her, to go slow and use my body to show her how I feel but that isn't meant to be. Instead she pulls me down between her thighs and her hips lift up to mine. She is whimpering and her hands and legs urge me on. On a deep sigh, I enter her.
Home. As my body joins with hers, so does my soul. And I am home.
With my eyes on Sara's, I begin to move. Slow and easy, rocking in and out. I feel every inch of her along my length and I tamp down on my urge to pound into her heat. Sara matches my lazy pace, her hips rising up to meet me. The humid air wraps around us, soft and damp. Nothing has ever felt so right.
After an eternity of the sheer pleasure of being buried in Sara, I hear her whisper. "More."
I can see how close she is by the way her lips are parted. I can hear how close she is in the tiny 'uh' she makes with every thrust of my hips. I can feel how close she is by the way she rolls her hips underneath me. I capture her mouth in a frenzied kiss, swallowing her quiet grunt. I increase my pace until I am slamming into her body. Her breasts bounce with every press of my hips. Instinctively, Sara raises her arms to brace against the headboard and she meets me thrust for thrust, grinding against me. A little whimper of frustration escapes her throat and I kiss it away. Finally, I manage to slide a hand between our bodies and I find her clit. It is swollen and, when I flick my finger across it, then press against it with my thumb Sara comes undone.
Her muscles clench around me, and I explode. Our bodies pound together as we ride out our release in one another's arms.
It is late, the sun sliding below the tree tops. A cool breeze lifts the gauzy curtains. When I awake Sara is laying beside me, her face pressed into the crook of my neck. I know she isn't asleep when I feel her kiss just below my ear.
"Sara," I whisper.
"Ummmmhmmmmmmmm?" She wiggles closer, her skin soft and warm along my side.
"It was easier than I thought it would be." I speak into the waning light, tightening my arm around her.
I can feel her smile against my throat. "What was easier?"
"Making a decision." I pause then shake my head. "No. Making the right decision."
With a giggle, she rolls over on top of me. Staring down into my eyes, a smile lighting her face, Sara kisses me. "Took you long enough." Her smile never waivers. "But I'm glad you're here."
I can't stop the grin that slides over my face. I run my hand through her hair, letting the short strands curl around my fingers and tickle my palm. I tug until her lips are brushing mine. "There's no where I'd rather be."