TITLE: An Intimate Proposal
AUTHOR: Chauncey10 aka MSCSIFANGSR
PAIRING: Grissom and Sara
RATING: Mature/NC-17
WORD COUNT: about 7300
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them.
SPOILERS: Mid-season 8 after "Goodbye and Good Luck"
PROMPT: 'Intimate Proposal'
SUMMARY: A case file, a smutty crime scene reenactment and some fluff in equal measure.
BETAS: butliz and Keegan Elizabeth
A/N: This was my last year's Geekfiction Smut-a-thon entry. I was working on my new one and wanted to read this one just because…so then it wasn't on my hard-drive anymore nor could I find it on fanfiction, so I decided to post it here, since I didn't before.
A/N 2: A little AU: Sara is back from her journey of self discovery and is working again on the nightshift.
Grissom is no longer Shift Supervisor, because he resigned from that position. Not wanting to lose Grissom or Sara, the Sheriff brought it upon himself to change to rules. He allows members of the same forensic team to pursue romantic relationships, marriages, even same sex relationships, but prevents a supervisor/subordinate relationship. Ecklie was upset, but then who really cared?
A/N 3: Thanks go out to my friends who let me use their names and likenesses in my story.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 2:38 a.m.
The slim brunette CSI stood stoically at the darkened two-way window gazing into the interrogation room, watching as the interview of Thomas Harrington unfolded.
He wasn't an official suspect in the murder of Ava Shaw, if indeed a murder had been committed. There was no evidence of murder; it appeared to be a simple case of accidental death, but on the whim of the detective in charge of the investigation, who had insisted, "something just doesn't smell right," they were treating the death as a murder.
All of the evidence they had collected at the scene was now in trace analysis, fingerprint analysis and DNA. The body was in the morgue where the head coroner was currently performing the autopsy.
Gil Grissom, the most senior CSI, and Sam Vega, a police detective in the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department were questioning the twenty-something sandy haired man on the 'accident' that had taken his soon to be fiancée's life.
"I was going for an intimate proposal," Harrington informed the two men.
"What do you mean by that?" Vega asked, his hardened voice almost accusatory in tone.
"I was about to ask her to marry me, but it all turned to shit." Harrington cupped his face with both hands and, without warning, burst into sobs.
"What happened? Did Ava say 'no' to you, so you decided to throw the radio, which happened to still be attached to the wall circuit, into the tub with her?" Vega flung the words at the man. The possible suspect did not appear to have heard the detective's question because he continued to cry.
Harrington covered his head with his hands and placed his cheek against the black table. Grissom and Vega shared a moment of confused glances and watched as Harrington's tears pooled onto the opaque surface.
Sara Sidle stood in the shadows as the man's grief overtook him. She recalled the events that led to her and her own fiancé's investigation of the death of Ava Shaw.
She and Grissom had been sharing an exceptionally rare dinner at a romantic restaurant before work. They had shared a slow kiss as he pulled the chair out for her to sit on the velvet chair. Their touches were intimate, lingering, even from across the table. Neither of them was comfortable with grand romantic gestures or public displays of affection, but since Sara's return from her ghost burying journey, Grissom had taken every opportunity to show Sara exactly how much he loved her and she had responded in kind. To put it mildly, they could not keep their hands off of each other.
They had just ordered their meal when both were paged by Detective Sam Vega. Apparently, Swing Shift was slammed with cases and the Graveyard shift was being called in early for a 419 under suspicious circumstances.
Grissom pulled a crisp twenty dollar bill from his wallet to pay for their drinks and to tip their waiter. He pulled the chair out for Sara and placed his hand possessively on her lower back. While making their way out of the restaurant, Grissom stopped by the maitre d's stand and apologized for their need to leave before making their way out to his company issued Denali. Grissom dialed his cell phone with one hand as he opened the door for Sara, slowly caressing her knee as she adjusted the seat.
"Hey, we got called in early. I hope we're not stepping on your toes by going to a scene without your authorization."
Grissom walked around the SUV and got in the driver's side. He continued his conversation as he started the vehicle, "Yeah, but you said you wanted the job. The paperwork is part of the big picture, not just solving crimes. Bye." He clicked the end button and smiled at Sara.
She smiled back at him. "How is my friend, our new boss?"
"Fine, but a little miffed I was called before him. He'll get over it. I don't think he realized the degree of monotonous paperwork, which I don't miss at all, that is involved in being the shift supervisor."
Sara laughed, as she caressed his thigh as he drove to the crime scene.
They arrived at the scene the same time as the coroner's assistant, David Phillips. David had complimented Sara on her attire, but Grissom quieted him with an intense stare. The two CSI's and the coroner's assistant met with the detective on the scene and moved through the high priced dark apartment into the bathroom. Sara graciously nodded a silent 'thanks' to David as they studied the slightly gray body of a nude woman with their maglites. The victim was in a large Jacuzzi bathtub, knees and head showing through the dissipated bubbles.
"Time of death?" Grissom's voice cut the silence that had pervaded the room since the four had entered the large bathroom.
"Boyfriend says 9:45 p.m. 911 call was logged at 9:52 p.m. according to dispatch." Vega pointed to the living room with his right thumb. "He says he knocked the radio over into the tub with his shirt while getting undressed, *accidentally*, if you know what I mean." Vega eyed the scene suspiciously. "Something just doesn't smell right. Any signs that it wasn't an accident?"
Grissom looked up at the detective from his squatting position. "No apparent signs of struggle," he replied as he studied the scene with his usual investigative regard. "But she is blindfolded."
Sara began to take pictures with her digital Nikon of the woman's body from different angles. The radio was floating rather obscenely between the woman's exposed knees.
Various items were lined along the ledge of the Jacuzzi's counter: four burned out red votive candles, petals of what appeared to be American Beauty roses, scattered haphazardly in the water with some spilling on the tiled floor; a silver bucket containing an expensive bottle of Dom Perignon with two champagne flutes one empty while the other held a diamond engagement ring.
As Sara completed her preliminary shots, Vega stated, "I'm going to find the breaker box and turn the lights on, if that's okay with you, Grissom?"
"Wait, first let me unplug the radio from the wall socket, so the electric current won't flow through the tub again. No need for one of us to get zapped, too."
After watching Grissom pull the plug from the wall, Vega left the bathroom. Phillips took the woman's liver temperature and quickly calculated the numbers in his head and looked toward Grissom who was lifting several fingerprints from the waterlogged radio.
David and Grissom lifted the body out of the tub and into an opened black body bag. Sara stepped in to get some close ups of the reddened blisters that appeared on the victim's thighs.
"TOD is between 9:30 to 10:00. The body is pruned from exposure to the water and there are several large blisters on the vic's thighs. Lividity is fixed on the low back and buttocks and the body hasn't been moved." David looked hesitantly toward Sara, who smiled in his direction. He shyly smiled back at her.
Grissom didn't look up from his work, but he responded, "Cause of death?"
"First Blush? Lack of oxygen in the blood. Asphyxiation. Doc Robbins should be able to tell you more after he gets the body." Grissom nodded without looking up as another coroner's assistant and Phillips lifted the body onto a gurney and left the room.
Sara had begun to collect trace fibers and was straining the bathwater when the lights suddenly came on in the room.
She looked at her lover, who deadpanned, "Electrifying."
Sara was brought back from recollection of the scene when she noticed Thomas Harrington had finally stopped crying. He looked up at the two men in the room with him, staring first at Grissom, who regarded the man with veiled blue eyes, and then at Vega, who's intense stare made the young man look away.
"I loved Ava, that's why I was going to ask her to marry me. She preferred intimacy and a lot of it, so, I thought a very romantic gesture would do the trick. My plan was to surprise her with the bubble bath and roses, maybe make love in the tub after she found the ring in the bottom of her glass. Then we'd go to one of the Elvis chapels and get married. Then tomorrow, Valentine's Day, I was going to whisk her off to Paris for our honeymoon. I didn't kill Ava on purpose, it was totally an accident."
Sam Vega stared into the man's soul for a few moments before asking, "Tell me exactly what did happen, and don't leave anything out."
"I told her to get undressed because I had a surprise for her."
"Is that something that is usual in your relationship?" Gil Grissom spoke for the first time.
"Yes. I liked to surprise her with presents."
"Back to the accident, please." Vega interjected.
"I put the blindfold on her when she said she was ready. I led her into the bathroom. The music was playing 'I can't help falling in love with you' by Elvis: she really loved his voice. Ava said, 'I smell roses. 'I said, 'Yes, you do.' I told her to step up into the tub and she climbed in with my help. When she sat down with the bubbles slightly covering her tits…God, she looked so hot,; my plan sort of flew out the window, because I had to have her then. I started undressing, so I could get in with her. When I took off my shirt, I threw it at her to get her attention but it knocked over the satellite radio into the Jacuzzi with her. And ZZZZZTTT, she was dead and all the lights went out."
Harrington took a long breath, tears running down the side of his face and continued his narrative, "I just stared at her for a while. It was dark, but the candles were still lit. Her body seemed like it was stuck to the tub when it was happening. I thought when you got electrocuted your body jumped around all over the place, but her's didn't. I finally realized I needed to call an ambulance. So, I called and then went back to the bathroom and stayed there till….."
His slight Southern accent trailed off as he took his face into the palms of his hands.
Sara was still watching him from her vantage point when David Hodges walked up to her.
"Is that the man that fried his fiancée?"
Sara looked at Hodges with a faint distaste and answered, "What did you find out about the roses and the fibers I collected at the scene and the fibers from his shirt?"
"Nothing, they were just roses. American Beauty by classification, but there was nothing on them. There was nothing probative on the fibers you collected. I just came back from the morgue. Doctor Robbins gave me some trace from the body and I'm going to run my magic on them." Hodges turned and walked away. Sara was about to tell Hodges 'thank you,' but she just shrugged her shoulders. She decided to walk down to the morgue to see if Doc Robbins had come up with anything in the young woman's autopsy.
Sara entered the morgue wearing a baby blue lab coat covering her evening attire. Robbins looked up as she entered.
"Sara." Albert Robbins nodded in her direction.
"Doc." She sweetly smiled at the older man.
"You are looking lovely this evening. Hot date?" Robbins winked at the CSI.
"An interrupted hot date at that." Sara laughed and soon the coroner joined her.
"When are you and Gil getting married?" he asked somewhat sheepishly.
"We haven't set a date, but we've been engaged now for four months." Sara looked at the body on the slab and continued, "She was going to get married tonight and have a honeymoon in Paris for Valentine's. At least that is what her fiancé said. We haven't determined if it was truly an accident or if he intended to kill her. The evidence isn't telling us much at this point. What has she told you?"
"Ava Shaw, 26," Albert Robbins said as he pointed to the body laying on the cold steel surface. " I've taken some samples from beneath her fingernails and found a sticky substance on her right abdomen, both of which I sent to trace. Hodges should tell you more after he runs his tests. I ran her body through x-ray and discovered a recently healed spiral fracture of her left ulnar."
Sara looked at the man, propped on a single lofstrand crutch, which was the only outward sign of the fact he wore two prosthetic legs.
"Domestic abuse?" She asked, hoping for any answer other than 'yes'.
"I'd say yes if the victim were a child, but in an adult there are any number of possible other reasons."
Sara looked unconvinced.
The doctor continued, "I've sent a urine and blood sample to tox. Now, moving on to what she has told me." He stepped toward the body, pointing to various places on the victim as he spoke.
"The electricity caused an instantaneous cessation of breathing and heart activity. The chief element of electrocution is something called 'Joule burns' which is the presence entrance and exit wounds and grayish puckered wounds appear. Usually in current of the household variety, these wounds are not as prominent. If an appliance is dropped into a bathtub, such as what is apparent in this case, the water would hold the body still as the water is the conductor of the electricity and would cause large blistered areas, such as we have here on her thighs. About one-third to one-half of victims of low voltage electrocutions demonstrate no electrical burns. Our girl here does. Also pruning continues to be present. Pruning will not disappear posthumously if a body is exposed to low voltage while immersed in water.. The increase in current in the tub, will short out the current through the house and in the very least trip the breaker switch."
"So far the evidence supports the boyfriend's account. Is there any way we can determine if the radio was dropped into the tub on accident or if done on purpose?"
"I believe that is your job," he said wryly.
"Thanks. Thanks a lot." Sara made her way to the door, removing her lab coat as she went.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 3:28 a.m.
Sara cautiously knocked on the interrogation room door. She had to relay to Grissom the information she had gotten from Doc Robbins and from Trace. The uniformed officer opened the door and quietly walked over to Grissom, who stood and excused himself from the room. As Grissom left the room, Vega decided to release the man because he had no cause to hold him any longer.
Sara watched Gil through the two-way window and thought to herself how exceedingly handsome he looked in his blue suit; with the tie she'd given him slightly askew.
When Gil saw Sara, his immediate reaction was to kiss her soundly. But he stopped himself in time, after all, they were standing in the hallway of the police department. Instead he cupped her elbow, intimately and led her toward his office.
"Nothing probative from Trace, although the sticky substance on the abdomen was a match to the birth control patch that was found when the water was strained from the tub. Fingerprints in the bathroom definitely match Harrington and the victim, no surprise there. Fingerprints on the radio belong to Harrington. Tox was negative for any drugs or alcohol in her system. No signs whatsoever of movement of body post mortem. Death occurred almost instantaneously. Doc confirms death secondary to low voltage shock which caused an immediate stoppage to the heart and lungs. We have nothing to confirm or deny accidental death."
As Sara uttered the last syllable of her narrative, they made it to the door of Grissom's office. He gestured her inside as he closed the door behind them. He guided her into a recessed cove in the midst of his many shelves. His lips met hers as he turned her body into his. At first the kiss was gentle, but as Gil pulled Sara closer, the kiss became demanding.
Lips parted. Tongues battled. Fiery touches. Their bodies molded together. Effortlessly.
Sara could feel the strength of his erection on her slightly rounded stomach. She moaned as he caressed her breast through the barrier of her clothes.
The erotic sound of his voice in her ear did not register. "What did you say?"
"Intimate proposal for you." His voice was husky with desire.
"What?" she asked as his tongue traced the outline of her ear.
"Eeeewhooo," escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue swirled into the opening.
She suddenly pulled away from him and moved to the chair in front of his desk.
He missed the warmth of her immediately. He watched her ease into the chair. Gil adjusted his heavy erection so that he would be able to walk to his desk. When he sat down, he took off his glasses and really looked at his beautiful fiancée. She was slightly flushed with arousal, but otherwise she looked the same as she did when he first met her years ago.
"Uhm…I was thinking maybe we could recreate Harrington's proposal scenario at home, later, just the two of us?" He put his glasses back on as he picked up several files on his desk. The phone on his desk rang, but Sara answered him before he picked up the receiver.
"I love to do crime scene re-creations. And with you, at home, it's definitely a bonus." She was slightly shocked when he winked at her.
"Yes, boss. You drive a hard bargain. Sara will continue with this case, but you can only use my services until the end of shift, I have somewhere else to be."
He continued speaking to the supervisor of the nightshift on the phone, as Sara made her way toward the door. Sara blew him a kiss as she left his office.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 9:26 a.m.
Grissom had just checked all of the incidentals: The candles were lit, the champagne was on ice, rose petals were scattered, and the 'radio' was a weighted cardboard box. He'd just asked Sara to leave the room to get undressed. He was nervous. They had both discussed the fact that whatever they learned in this reenactment would never be admissible in court, but if they did discover something relevant they would have to recreate the scene at work.
Grissom was pouring 'Night Blooming Jasmine' body gel into the water to produce the needed bubbles. His attention was broken by the sound of a bump at the door to the bathroom, followed by Sara's voice.
"Funny, I don't smell roses."
"We didn't have any rose-scented soaps, so I went with my favorite." He hadn't looked up from his task as yet, because he was putting up the bottle into the cabinet. "Jasmine is much more sensual; I thought it would be a better substitute."
When he looked up at the vision that was Sara, he momentarily lost his breath. She looked so beautiful but utterly exposed standing in the doorway, au naturale'. He walked over to her; she handed him the sleeping mask. As he slipped it over her head, his hands caressed her cheeks. He bent slightly and kissed her lips, almost chastely, but as Sara's body moved closer to his, the kiss deepened. He could feel his desire grow as Sara's arms wrapped around his neck.
"Here let me help you into the tub, my dear." His voice was again husky with desire. He allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her nude body, letting his gaze take in her long, firm legs, the brown patch of fur between her legs, her breasts, and the sexy smirk on her face.
"God, you look so hot."
She laughed for a moment. "So, you are having the same reaction as Harrington."
"You have no idea," he said as he guided her into the bathtub. "Step up."
He wanted nothing more than to take her, primal as that sounded. He caressed the skin of her hip with the tips of his fingers as she stepped into the water. Sara was standing about mid-shin deep in the water, as he maneuvered her into a sitting position. He stepped back to admire his woman. The bubbles made halos of her nipples as he stared at the blindfolded woman in the bathtub from his vantage point about four feet from the tub, strategically to make the most of the next part of the experiment.
"You are gorgeous, Sara."
Sara opened her arms and seductively whispered, "Come 'ere, babe."
Grissom hastily removed his pullover shirt and threw it toward Sara. As the shirt was in the air, it skipped into the 'radio' and both the shirt and the radio fell into the tub.
"ZZZZPTTTT" Grissom intoned. "You're dead."
Sara pulled the mask off and watched as the 'radio' floated between her exposed knees, nestled in the bubbles. Gil's shirt slowly sank into the water.
"There was no shirt in the water." Sara's voice was a mix between awe and revelation. "He did it. I need to call Vega, to get Harrington brought in for more questioning."
As she stood, the bubbles clung to her wet body, as the water glided off of her and back into the tub. Gil was transfixed. He stood shirtless, with a bulging erection as Sara attempted to get out of the bathtub.
"Gil?" Sara's voice broke his trance.
"Yeah?" he questioned, dazed from the lack of blood flowing freely in the rest of his body.
"Are you going to help me get out? I'm afraid I might slip." Sara's voice sounded sweet as sugar.
He reached for her outstretched hand, helping her out. When her feet were planted firmly on the floor, Gil captured her completely in his arms and began to thrust his body provocatively into hers.
"Call Vega later," he whispered into her ear, before his lips seized her's ruthlessly.
The warmth from her mild exposure to the water had cooled. She was soon shivering, but neither of them appeared to notice. Sara's hands began to run over his shirtless back, caressing lightly with her fingernails, and as she dipped lower, into the waistband of Gil's pants, he growled.
His hands were everywhere on her as their kiss continued. He did not linger in any one area for more than a few seconds each, because he adored the feel of Sara's wet body. The bubbles that were sliding down her body made her seem wetter and slicker and he loved it. If the thought had crossed his mind, then he would have been unable to think of a time when he'd been more aroused in his life.
Sara's fingers made their way to the front of his pants, unbuttoned them, and felt the bulge that stood hardened against her hand. They were still kissing, as their hands and fingers explored the previously charted areas of the other's skin. Sara pulled away slightly when Grissom's index finger slid up and down in the crack of her ass. She trailed kisses down his smooth chest to his belly button, where she laved a tongue in and out for a second, before settling her teeth on his zipper clasp. He suddenly stopped her actions.
"Babe, let me do that." He practically hissed as Sara slid down to her knees before him.
He quickly shifted his erection to the right before sucking in a quick breath and unzipped his pants. As the pants fell from his body, his penis stood straight out, proud, long, hard and ready.
Sara just looked at him, or rather his manhood. It was the most perfect thing she thought she'd ever seen, and although she'd kissed the appendage many times before, her mouth still watered at the prospect of taking the length of him into her. She looked up into his blue eyes, knowing how close he was, knowing how much she wanted him, knowing how much it pleased him, knowing if the world ended tomorrow, today would be enough.
He stared down into her brown eyes, unwittingly thinking almost the same thoughts. Sara could give a wonderful blowjob; he had known this from the first time they'd been together over 2 years ago. As she opened her mouth in wonderment, he grabbed himself and slowly stroked himself as Sara's tongue mimicked his hand's actions.
"You want to suck my dick, my temptress?" Grissom's voice was rough.
Sara's head bobbled up and down.
"Say it," he demanded. Their eyes had never left each other's.
Without hesitation or even much thought, "Gil, I want to suck your dick," and as the words left her mouth, his prick entered.
Sara's lips closed over the head and her tongue flicked the underside. He pushed a bit harder into her as she allowed a slight suction noise to escape. She knew the sounds of sex spurred him on, so when she sucked him into her, she made sure to make extra slurping noises. Sara withdrew some, but kept the suction constant as she began to bobble up and down the hard softness of her lover. Her hand caressed his balls and she felt as both his hands gripped her hair gently, just above her ears.
"Oh god, oh god, oh Sara."
She heard his soft pleas of pleasure and she sucked harder. She could feel his balls begin to tighten under her fondling. She knew from past experience his ejaculation was close. She wanted to taste his jizz when it shot out of him, but he pushed her head away from him suddenly."I want to fuck you. Now." The words were almost savage in pulled her up into his arms and kissed the curve of her neck. His hands grasped her ass and pulled her up onto him. She quickly wrapped her legs around his midsection as his fully engorged member slipped inside her silky lips moved along her jaw line, teasing her skin."You're so fucking wet. You're always so wet for me, my Sara. My love," he murmured when he pushed her up against the tiled wall of their bathroom.
When Sara's bottom touched the wall, she exclaimed, loudly, "Shit that's cold." But Gil didn't hear her as he thrust in and out of her with an abandon she had never known in him. He was single minded in his determination as his cock pistoned into her. She lay her head down on his shoulder, clinging to him as rode her fast and furiously. She reached down with one of her hands, flicking her middle finger across her clit in time with Grissom's thrusts.
"Babe, I'm so close. Fuck me harder. Ahhh, yeah, that's right, just right, Fuck me Gil. Oh Gil. Ahhh." Her words were spoken quite loudly, in the heat of their passion.
Gil heard the words, "Fuck….harder….right…..fuck….Gil….Ahhh," through the haze of pleasure he was experiencing. He looked down between their bodies and watched as Sara fingered herself as his cock pounded into her. Her long sleek neck was bare before him and, without thinking, he bit down into her skin quite unexpectedly.
She exploded in pleasure and in pain. Her body sagged into his, completely limp.
He followed in rapture, as her pussy clamped down on his prick, pulling from him, his life force.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 4:30 p.m.
"Hey, we think Ava Shaw was murdered and I'm going to need a warrant for her medical records." She paused, listening to the person on the other end of the line. "To check for prior abuse by the boyfriend. There was evidence of a spiral fracture when Doc autopsied her. I also want to check with her employer to find anything I can there."
She listened in silence for a few moments. Her attention, however, was on Gil. He was sitting at the edge of their bed, pulling on his socks.
"Yeah, of course, he's right here. Hold on." She handed her cell phone to the man who had made passionate love to her twice that morning. She smiled at the memory as she heard him answer with his usual gruff…
"Grissom."
She thought back to earlier as she felt along the surface of her injured neck.
Grissom stared at the mark he'd left on her. "Oh my God, Sara, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You didn't do it on purpose." She rolled onto her side and took him into her arms.
"But Sara…." He began.
"I'll just wear a scarf tonight." Sara interrupted and kissed him soundly on the lips.
He quickly rolled her under him and was poised between her legs, ready to enter her again. "I love you."
"Thank you. You are a hard taskmaster. Bye." Grissom's voice brought her back to the present as she wrapped the colorful scarf around her neck as she completed her dressing ritual before Gil handed her back her cell phone. Gil's voice was near her ear. "I'm going to the judge's to get the warrant. Do you want to go interview her employer?"
Sara placed her cell phone into her purse. "Sure, I'll see you later."
"I'm going to walk Bruno before I leave," Grissom said as he held the leash in his hand.
"Okay, I love you, Gilbert." She smiled at the two most important men in her life.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 5:12 p.m.
Sara walked into the small law office, expecting a receptionist, but was instead greeted by a very large, bald man in his mid fifties wearing a bad suit.
"Are you Mr. Tuminello?" Sara began.
"Yes. Are you here about Ava's murder?" the man asked, his brow crinkled above his eyes.
"Yes. Was she an employee of your's?" Sara looked around the office, which was immaculately cleaned.
"Yes. Are you a detective?" Tuminello questioned.
"No, I'm a crime scene investigator. How long did she work for you?" Sara looked him straight in the eye.
The brown eyed man returned Sara's stare. "About two years, since she moved to Vegas. She's, well was, my paralegal. How long have you been a CSI?"
"About ten years." Sara answered him, not sure who was interviewing who. "Has she ever spoken of her boyfriend, Thomas Harrington?"
"Sure, I've met him once or twice, but Ava talked about him all the time. I felt like I knew him, even though we've never spoken more than five or six words to each other. But I knew I didn't like him. Yesterday, before she left here, she confided that she thought he was seeing another woman. Today, she is dead. Is that a coincidence?" He lifted his hands into the air in a gesture of confusion. "Seven months ago, she thought he was seeing someone and the next day she came in with a broken arm. Is that a coincidence? I don't think so."
"He abused her?" Sara voice was filled with anger.
"Yes, I think he did. However, I don't have anything concrete to base my assumption on." Tuminello took a deep breath before continuing. "Ava and Tom moved to Vegas together two years ago fresh out of Tennessee. I hired her, because she had a paralegal degree and because I really needed someone to do my research and frankly, I paid her a lot of money to do that. Tom was a CPA at a firm over near McCarran Airport. They catered to the tourists, who won big."
"Did you provide Ava with insurance?" Sara questioned.
"Sure. Medical, dental, life." He looked over at a filing cabinet behind a single desk in the corner. "I already know what you are going to ask next." He removed a file scanning the contents quickly. "Damn, Tom's not her beneficiary."
"That would have been motive." Sara was also disappointed by the information. "Were there any other incidences of possible abuse?"
Tuminello stared again into Sara's eyes. "I don't know of any," his laugh was not from amusement, "I wish I knew of others."
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 7:35 p.m.
Gil Grissom had read over the emergency room notes from the victim's visit seven months ago. Nothing about the incident appeared suspicious in any way. The victim had stated to the ER doctor that her arm had gotten caught when the couch she and her boyfriend were moving twisted unexpectedly. And other than the lack of a wet shirt at the scene, they had no concrete evidence a crime had been committed in the victim's death.
When Vega arrived at the Harrington/Shaw residence to question the man about what the two CSI's had found in their reenactment, Thomas Harrington was nowhere to be found. Through several police channels, some legal and some not so legal, Vega found out that Harrington had purchased a ticket to Memphis, Tennessee, with the dead woman's credit card a little over thirteen hours after her death. Police in Memphis were alerted to the fact that Thomas Harrington was wanted for further questioning by the Las Vegas Police Department.
Grissom didn't have high hopes for this case. Unless Harrington confessed to the murder, they would have to label this an accidental death, because they had nothing to substantiate a charge of murder by the Clarke County District Attorney. Even what the girl's employer had told Sara could not be used as evidence because it could be labeled as hearsay. And the fact the man had used the victim's credit card to skip town did not make him guilty.
Grissom was trying to decide how best to present the information to his supervisor; Grissom's solve rate was one of the highest in the department, and his chief competitor for the honor was Sara. His supervisor wouldn't look at the case as a mark against either of them, but would know that the two of them had covered every angle. But Grissom also knew their supervisor was still trying to make a good impression on the Sheriff and the DA and didn't want to show any signs of weakness, although Grissom had recommended him for the job, most of the higher-ups, did not want to him in the position.
Grissom was conducting an experiment for another case that was going to trial the next morning. If everything went as expected, the DA was to call for his testimony at 9:30 a.m. Sara was off on another assignment with their supervisor, one that he assured Grissom wouldn't take them long. What Sara didn't know was that he had plans for the two of them and their supervisor had approved their time off.
Thursday, February 14, 2008 St. Valentine's Day, 12:38 p.m.
Grissom quietly entered their townhouse. Bruno made his presence known as soon as he walked through the doorway, jumping and demanding attention. Gil bent down and scratched the animal for a few minutes as his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room.
As his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light in the room, he saw Sara's arm sticking out from a bundle of blankets on the couch. Since her return, she refused to sleep in their bed without him. He would find her there, huddled in blankets on the couch, anytime he was late from work or had court, as was the case today.
Gil made his way over to the couch as the boxer followed him. He shook Sara slightly and whispered, "Honey, wake up."
Sara shifted in the blankets. One brown eye opened as he stood above her; one tan arm shot out of the blankets and ran a hand lovingly from his knee to crotch. "Mmm, I'm awake," she said sleepily. "You look so good in that suit that I want it off of you."
He sat down on the couch as Sara's hand continued its exploration of the texture of his suit. He could feel his body reacting to her caresses. "Sara, let me." His right hand slipped beneath the cover and he was unsurprised when he encountered nothing but flesh under the blanket. Gil dipped his finger into her moist center, finding her clit, he began rubbing in a circular motion, as Sara spread her legs wider to allow him better access. Sara's light moans spurred him onward. He slid a finger into her opening and slowly began pumping in and out of her.
"More," she moaned.
He pulled out of her.
She looked at him like he was crazy.
He swept the blankets away from her body in one swift motion. Slipping his arms beneath her, he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. Along the way, he had to stop several times because when her lips captured his, it was all he could do to hold her up.
When they reached the bedroom, he gently laid her body down. He shucked off his jacket and began a strip tease, which began in jest, until he noticed that Sara's usual brown eyes had darkened with desire. He slowly untied his tie, then with unusual attention to detail, he removed each button from it's loop.
Sara watched in fascination, willing her hand to stop its ascent to her pussy, but it was useless. When the tip of her finger grazed over her clit, she moaned with desire as she watched Gil playing the role of a male stripper to the hilt.
Grissom removed his shirt, one arm at a time, showing off his bare chest to Sara. He toed off his shoes while still standing and began to unbuckle his belt. He removed the belt with a flourish, throwing it to the side. He reached for her finger that was busy circling her clit and pushed the hand away.
"Let me do that," he said, his voice deep with desire.
He unzipped his pants, they fell to the floor. As he stepped out of them, he slid down onto the bed with his head between Sara's thighs.
She spread her legs wider to make room for him.
His tongue snaked out to her clit, as he placed two fingers inside her.
"I want you to come for me, my Sara."
The vibrations of his words against her clit made her squirm and the feel of the warm breath from his mouth made her wiggle. He moved his fingers slowly inside her and tasted the essence of her desire.
Gil felt her vaginal walls begin to tighten around his fingers, and he began to move his tongue faster on her clitoris. Sara's body moved with the rhythm of his tongue and hand.
"Ohmygodgilyesyesohohhhhhhhhh," she groaned as her orgasm overtook her.
Gil quickly covered her body with his, pushing his manhood into Sara's quivering opening. He could feel the waves of her pleasure, pulling him into her tide. He moved with her for what seemed like hours, slowly, gently, Then the momentum would change to a very fast, pounding, then when he didn't think he could move, he stopped and felt her breathing hard against him. Sara's orgasms had not stopped. He could no longer hold back his own orgasm. As he spilled into her, she kept pulling him further in, unwilling to lose contact. He felt her spasm against his cock, and it felt like she was milking him. She was his; he was hers.
He collapsed on top of her, but remained inside of her. Her spasms were wider apart, but her pleasure was unbroken in succession. Gilbert Grissom could not stop the words from coming from his mouth:
"Sara, will you please marry me, today?"
He felt her body convulse again, harder than before, her eyes tight.
Several minutes passed, before Sara replied. "Talk about an intimate proposal." She stared up into his blues and nodded her head yes.
February 14, 2008, St. Valentine's Day, 5:27 p.m.
The sound of Gil's cell phone awoke the two lovers. He reached for the offending noise, so as not to disturb Sara.
"Grissom," he spoke into the phone and listened to the voice on the other end.
"Okay." His eyes crinkled; he smiled as Sara stretched her long body beside him.
"Thanks for letting us know." He closed the phone and looked at his beautiful lover.
"That was Vega. Harrington was apprehended in Memphis, where he confessed to murdering his girlfriend. In his statement, Harrington said that she had refused his proposal so he threw the radio at her, just as Vega had theorized."
Sara yawned and stretched, "Well, I'm glad he admitted he did it. We had no solid evidence against him anyway."
Grissom smiled at her.
Sara sat up at the side of the bed. "I'll be right back for some more of you, if you are able, stud." She stood and walked into the bathroom.
Grissom flipped his cell phone open and spoke into the mouthpiece. "Hey, it's me. Everything is going as planned, gather up everyone and meet us at the 'Little Chapel of Love' at 7:30," he paused for a few moments listening. "Yes, I'm sure of this."
As he closed the phone and put it on the nightstand, Sara walked back into their bedroom, wearing nothing but a smile.
February 14, 2008, St. Valentine's Day, 8:15 p.m.
Gilbert and Sara Grissom left the chapel, holding hands. Golden bands adorned each left hand. Most of their co-workers threw rice at the couple. Others milled about watching the couple's smiles and laughter. Everyone from the crime lab had attended the spur of the moment wedding, in which the Graveyard Shift's youngest supervisor walked Sara down the aisle.
Catherine Willows, with Greg Sanders in tow, walked up to the couple and without preamble, she asked, "Where are you two going on the honeymoon?"
Gil reached into his breast pocket and removed two first class tickets to Paris, leaving within hours, showed the tickets to the two CSI's while his focus was entirely on his new bride.
THE END
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