A Sinking Sensation
Summary:. When Sara goes down, Grissom gets jealous. (Get your minds out of the gutter!) Answer to the Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided. Thanks to Ann, Marlou and Burked for their comments and encouragements.
A/N: Should be spoiler-free.
Disclaimer: A true disclaimer would be longer than this story.
Rating: G.

Sitting tied up in a car sinking to the bottom of Lake Mead wasn't quite how Sara had planned to spend her day off. Thoughts of catching up on her forensics journals vanished as the vehicle slipped under the waters, swaying as gravity fought the currents for control of its descent.

The light rapidly faded as the car sank deeper. The desert sun warmed the surface of the lake, but she knew its temperature dropped to a deadly chill near the bottom. Struggling against the ropes binding her hands, Sara screamed silently into the gag.

This was more fun than she imagined.

After one of the divers tapped on the window, giving her a thumbs-up, she stopped her squirming. The steady hiss of compressed air from the tanks under the seat was the only sound until the cables connected to the rear bumper engaged, slowly dragging her back to the surface.

She always loved movies, but the thought of actually being in one never occurred to Sara. But then Lance Montgomery came to Vegas. The Hollywood hunk got caught in one of the city's oldest traps – the trick role. Since he was already on his third marriage in five years, the actor-slash-producer had been very grateful for Sara's discretion in handling his case.

When one of the extras on the set became ill, he called her, offering her the chance to play the victim killed at the start of the movie. She'd answered 'yes' immediately, her enthusiastic response surprising her breakfast colleagues.

Initially, they'd all looked at her like they suspected her orange juice was spiked when Sara told them the news. A fair number of the lab ended up on the shores of Lake Mead after shift ended, either playing extras or watching from behind the film equipment. Now that the scene was over, they excitedly mingled around, waiting for her to be brought back to the surface.

Sara tried not to be too analytical as she sat in the car, patiently waiting to be hoisted out of the lake. Her feet weren't bound; she wasn't tied to the car body; she could have rolled down the window. She'd easily fit through the opening. It really would have been trivial to get free before the car sank to the bottom.

Of course, if she thought logically about most movie plots, she'd never be able to enjoy them. They were a form of escapism. And at this stage, a little break from the reality that was her life suited Sara fine. So, on her day off, she spent hours in makeup for a scene that would last only a few seconds on film. Not to mention a long time in wardrobe for a very minimal amount of clothing.

"You can breathe now," Catherine whispered to Grissom once the car was back on solid ground.

Behind his sunglasses, he shot her an annoyed glance. Grissom did indeed breathe when Sara emerged from the car. Wearing a halter-top and shorts. Incredibly short shorts. It was a very deep, ragged breath.

"Damn! Where's she been hiding those legs?" Nick asked, letting out a long whistle. Belatedly he realized that hadn't been the smartest comment to make. Sara wasn't in hearing range, but he was standing next to Grissom.

"Why don't you ask her, Nick?" Warrick challenged, laughing as his friend squirmed.

"I think someone beat me to it," he said, frowning as Lance Montgomery eyed her lewdly as he approached, and then he pulled her into a bear hug.

Grissom joined in the frown. "Isn't he married? This week, at least."

"Yeah. So?" Catherine teased. "Didn't stop him from going to a hooker."

Her joking comment didn't sit well with Grissom. Why was he interested in Sara? There're tons of women willing to be with him. It wasn't like Sara would be interested in a man who treated his marriages like a suit that could be changed to fit his mood.

"Because she's not interested."

Grissom turned to Warrick. Had he voiced his comments out loud? Considering it was unlikely that Warrick was a mind reader, he must have. He really was distracted. It was those legs. Those very long, shapely legs.

"Guy like that, when a woman's not interested, he sees it as a challenge."

Grunting, Grissom moved towards Sara, giving an unseen eye roll as his teammates joined him. There wasn't going to be anything to see. Other than Sara. Wow. That top left little to the imagination. A growl rolled around the back of his throat when he noticed the walking hormone factory from Hollywood had also noticed her attire. Or lack thereof.

Giving his head a shake, Grissom slipped off his ubiquitous jacket. He was just being a friend. Protective. The sun hadn't been out long; Sara was probably chilly after sitting under water that long. Jealousy had nothing to do with it.

Draping his jacket around her shoulders, Grissom felt a bit odd when she gave him an amused look. She certainly couldn't find hunk-head's attentions funny. What was she enjoying then?

"So, Gil, dude! Why didn't you play an extra? We coulda had you play the old, nerdy grandpop."

When Sara visibly fought back a laugh, Grissom realized it was his reaction she was enjoying. The gleam in her eye was unmistakable. He'd memorized it long ago, and although he hadn't seen it in ages, he remembered it.

He gave her a wink before looking at the movie star. "I'm allergic to film," he said seriously. "Very bad allergy. Soon as someone takes my picture, I break out in a rash. Looks terrible. Takes weeks to clear up. Hurts like hell."

"Huh?" Lance asked, his eyes wide in terror.

"Oh, yeah. Fairly rare condition, but it can be contagious."

"Contagious? Really? I, uh, I, uh … bye!"

Grissom smiled serenely at the rapidly departing actor, fighting the urge to laugh when Lance began scratching his arms neurotically. An elbow to his ribs caused him to raise an eyebrow playfully.

"A contagious allergy? Never would have guessed."

"Psychosomatic, I'm sure."

"I don't know. That implies he has a brain," Sara quipped, shrugging at Grissom. "What? I like his movies. Doesn't mean I like him."

"Other women seem to be interested."

"I have different tastes. I like brains. Not literally," she added, looking at him softly. "I prefer them inside their thick skulls."

"Any skull in particular?" Grissom asked as he edged closer to her side.

"I know a pretty thick one I like."

"Are we still talking about skulls?"

"If we're not? Bonus."

Looking over at her, Grissom grinned wildly at the sight awaiting him. Her smile – her beautiful, beautiful smile.

The End