A/N: Sorry everyone, I know it's been forever since I updated this. Who thought being a single mom was easy?? I'm lucky to have gotten this far in 4 months. The baby is doing great. She's awesome and I'm totally in love with her. She's my inspiration for writing, well, when she'll let me anyways.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing in regards to CSI, but my daughter thinks that Grissom is her father, so does that count for anything? Seriously, she responds to his voice so I told her that it would be lovely if he'd be her dad and then we'd both be happy.
Anywho, back to what's important – my sucky story. Sexual content so be warned it's rated M for a reason. It's not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Feel free to hit that lovely little review button at the bottom and tell me what you thought.
Okay so now that I've gone on for 3 paragraphs, how about that story!
- Frustrations -
Chapter One: Tension
Visions of skin melting against each other, films of sweat, hot tongues exploring every inch of body, hands roaming in a desperate attempt to feel everything it craved, soft whispers, low murmurs and ardent pleas filled her mind once again. For the tenth night (day) in a row, Sara Sidle awoke breathless and sweaty, and again, alone.
"This is getting ridiculous!" She yelled to the still and quiet room as she threw the blankets back and stormed off to the bathroom for what would be yet another cold shower before work.
Work. That was not helping her either. More like adding fuel to the fire having to work side by side with the very object of her daily desires. He was killing her, simply put.
Things between them had been going well. Their friendship was getting back on track, but as with their friendship came the outlandish amount of flirting and innuendo, therefore the uncanny sexual tension between them was back and stronger than ever.
Tonight was no different. As she worked her way to the locker room about an hour early for shift, and desperately trying not to think of anything remotely sexual, she was caught dead in her tracks when she opened the door. There, in all his glory, stood Gil Grissom, renowned entomologist and love of her life, shirtless. Shirtless and standing before her already sexually frustrated self, to just add more of that proverbial fuel to the very real fire starting up again within her. Instantly the images from her dreams came back in a rushing flood, along with some memories of a time long ago, that neither ever spoke of since she had arrived in Vegas.
Skin, sweat, tongues, hands…Stop it! Get a grip Sara! Think! Distraction…If you have 3 quarters, 4 dimes, and 4 pennies, you have 1.19. You also have the largest amount of money in coins without being able to make change for a dollar…The surface area of an average-sized brick is 79 cm squared…According to suicide statistics, Monday is the favored day for self-destruction. Great! And today is Monday!
"Uh, Sara?" Grissom asked with an amused grin watching her try very hard to divert her attentions after he had called her name several times with no response. It was actually quite flattering that she was having such a struggle.
Suddenly realizing that he was talking, she startled a bit and raised her eyes away from his chest to look at him face to face.
"Huh?" Oh yeah, you graduated from Harvard. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"You were zoning out there for a second." He calmly stated while trying to hide his smirk, unsuccessfully. As the blush began to climb up her neck to settle on her cheeks he had to turn away to keep from out right laughing. To say that he was enjoying her discomfort would be an understatement. Truth be told, he was just glad to have the attention diverted from himself.
If only Sara knew just how troubled he'd been in the last two weeks, how many times he had awoken moaning her name only to have to change his sheets and subject himself to yet another cold shower.
"I uh…uh…I'm just…" She attempt speech, but it was definitely not easy with him still standing there, bare chest on display.
He still looks just as amazing as he was back…
"Sara?" He asked when she didn't continue and her eyes fell again to his exposed flesh. Again, he couldn't help but smile. He, Gil Grissom, had rendered her, Sara Sidle, speechless. That merited celebration.
"I'm sorry. Um…could you…uh…um…maybe, you know…put a shirt…uh, on? Please?" She asked shyly, trying to avert her eyes from him again and knowing it wasn't working. Nor was her effort at trying to hide the increasing blush to her cheeks, or the throbbing she felt between her thighs.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry about that." He replied sweetly, innocently, turning into his locker to hide the amusement clear on his face. Then slowly, and tantalizingly he turned back to her and slid the tight t-shirt on.
Oh good God. He has to wear THAT! This is going to be a very long night.
"Sara? Are you okay?"
"Hm? Oh, uh…yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She answered absently, fidgeting nervously with her hands before making a mad dash for her locker.
Lost in her own thoughts of that fateful Monday self-destruction, Sara failed to notice that when she bent down to retrieve something from the bottom of her locker, that Grissom was staring at her, fixated on the way her black pants clung to her butt and the way her shirt rode up slightly exposing the milky white skin of her lower back.
She has to bend over like THAT?!
Okay Sara, get a grip! Work. Work. Work.
"Uh, Griss, if it's alright with you…" She began speaking into her locker, but then stopped when she turned her face to see him, only to find his eyes not focused on her face. Taking advantage of his current eye placement, she let her eyes drop to the ever growing bulge in the front of her supervisor's pants. Now it was her turn to try and keep her amusement in. Pursing her lips and outwardly blushing she turned her eyes back to his face, to find him still fixated on her female figure. "Uh, Griss?" She called, trying to snap his attention away from her body, feeling suddenly very exposed. When he still seemed to be lost in his male mind, she stood up and yelled. "Grissom!"
Despite what anyone would think, Gil Grissom is just another man.
"Huh? What?" He asked fearful of the tone in her voice and instantly snapping his eyes up to hers and then just as quickly down casting them to his shoes.
"Grissom. Are you okay?" The amusement in her voice wasn't as easy to mask as the smirk on her face, but she didn't mind all that much. Making him feel as uncomfortable as she was seemed worth it.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh, why do you ask?"
"Well you, uh, just seemed to be a bit…distracted…there for a minute. Did you even hear me?"
"Hear you?"
Shit! She was speaking?
Well it's kind of hard to listen when you're staring at my ass.
"Yeah, I was asking you a question…"
"Oh, um…no. No, I didn't. I'm sorry. What were you asking?" At least he brought his eyes back up to her face, but it was very obvious that he knew he had been caught.
"Well…I was just going to ask that if it's not too busy tonight I'd like to try and finish processing the cars we brought in on the Burlow case yesterday." Hmm, this should be fun. If I'm going to be tortured all night, might as well include him on it.
"Oh, um, yeah, yeah. That should be fine. I'll send Catherine and the guys on any new calls that come in." Great, now not only am I going to be seeing her all night, but she'll be wearing those coveralls. This is going to be a very long night. Well, if she's going to torture me all night, I can do the same to her. "Mind if I give you a hand?"
With a satisfied smile, she responded. "That would be great." Grabbing the coveralls from her locker, she slung them over her shoulder, closed the metal door with a clang and walked straight to Grissom. Placing her hand on his chest, teasingly letting her fingers trail over the soft fabric of his shirt, she smiled seductively and whispered, "So, I'll meet you in the garage?"
Unable to form even the smallest of coherent sentences, Grissom simply nodded dumbly, too focused on the feeling of her fingers against his chest. He could remember many mornings waking up to that sensation with her, a very long time ago.
Don't go there Gil. It's in the past.