Summary: A piece of GSR fluff. My tribute to the beautiful Jorja Fox.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank all the talented writers on , GSR Forever Love, and Fan Fiction Junkies whose work inspires me so much. I'd never have started writing these stories without reading them first. You are all amazing.

I GET IT

Sara and Grissom lay in bed, atop the tangled blankets, facing each other. They were both nude and perfectly at ease and lit with a warm light. His head was atop a pile of pillows and hers was cradled in her hand. Grissom let his free hand trail up and down Sara's body. His touch was feather light, yet lit a trail of sparks along her skin. Grissom let his fingertips explore all the places on her body that he had desired to for so many years. Sara lay still and quiet, enjoying the experience and the depth of feeling in his loving blue eyes.

After long minutes of pleasurable roaming, Grissom spoke with a little excitement.

"I get it."

"Umm?

"If you start here," Grissom explained, laying the back of his fingers above her breastbone, "above the heart, and circle around here," as he drew an imaginary line around the top and side her left breast, "and then go here," he trailed his hand down to her belly button. "Then," he continued with a boyish enthusiasm," you go the same route up the other side and finish at the at the sternum again, you draw a heart!"

"You're right," Sara answered. "I never thought of that. Do you mean to say that the pulsating mound of muscle with tubes leading in and out of it is not the best symbol for love?"

Grissom smiled at her joke. "Believe it or not, I've wondered for years how that shape became the symbol."

"And now you've figured it out. Well done," Sara said sincerely.

"Thanks." His fingertips resumed their trail, from her shoulder and down her arm to her hand, back up again, and then along the delicate curve of her side, the dip of her waist and the gentle curve of her hip, and down her thigh to where he could comfortably reach.

Moving north again, letting his hand trail through her patch of dark hair, and then draw idle patterns on her belly, Grissom said reverently, "You're so beautiful, Sara."

She smiled at him.

"Every part of you, everything about you, is beautiful."

Sara let him speak, her eyes gentle and receptive.

"Your heart. Your good, passionate, giving heart. So full of love, for me, for our friends, for every living creature." Grissom laid his palm above her heart.

"Your voice." His hand rested gently on her throat. "Your husky, sexy, expressive voice. The sweet sound of your laugh, your funny giggle, your warm chuckle, and how beautifully you sing." Sara's eyes widened a little.

"Your face." Grissom's hand rose and caressed it. "The perfect oval shape of it. Your long tapering jaw," he ran a finger along it, "perfect cheekbones, your full lips, your wide beautiful smile."

Sara gave him the legendary Sidle smile. Grissom's eyes smiled in return.

"Your perfect little nose," he said as he tweaked it playfully, and she giggled. "Your large beautiful brown eyes. I could drown, happily, in your eyes. Your impish eyebrows, and how they dance with every emotion."

"Your mind." Grissom said, more deeply, stroking her hair. "Your intelligence. Wisdom. Knowledge, not only your sponge-like absorption of everything you read and hear, but how you know people and read them. How observant and logical and intuitive you are. It's beautiful." He sighed.

"Your body. Sara, you are a vision of beauty. A wonder of nature. Every part of you. Your long arms, long slender fingers, long lovely legs, your soft responsive skin." Sara shivered a little at his light touch. She knew where this was going, but was enjoying every moment.

"Your breasts," Grissom said, cupping one in his hand. "How perfectly they fit my hand. How perfectly they fit your body. Natural. I hate those breast implants." He grimaced.

"Your stomach. Gently rounded, convex, echoing the sweet concave of your back. Your courage, and your guts. Your round beautiful ass, your slim hips."

He reached down between her legs. "Your..."

"Grissom!" Sara squealed, pretending to be offended.

He chuckled. "Hey, I was just going to say how sexy you are. How passionate. Uninhibited. Desirable."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

"How you kiss," Grissom said huskily, kissing her gently, then responding to her passionate response. They lost themselves in that kiss, then lost themselves in making love to each other.

"Okay, I get it," Sara said, panting for breath. "You think I'm beautiful."

"I know you are," Grissom answered, trying to slow his breathing, his pounding heart.

"You love me."

"I love you."

"I get it."

THE END

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