Experiment Interrupted

Rating: T (only 'cause I'm paranoid)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in regards to CSI; the show and its characters belong to a bunch of people who aren't me. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. Dance puppets, dance.

Author's Note: I was working on another story when the idea for this fic came to me. My muse kept poking me in the back until I wrote this. And well, who can ignore that? EllipsesBandit told me she liked it, so if you have any complaints direct them at her.

Oh, yeah and for once there's no food in one of my fics :) But I did eat some chocolate chip cookies while typing, if that counts for anything.

EllipsesBandit, my comrade in fluff, thank you for all of your help. You are the uber-beta. Narf!

Finally, this is dedicated to my disillusioned Sporker friend. Ha ha ha, Grissom and Sara are canon, you stupid, stupid man.

He remembered being eleven years old, and finding the book on the coffee table. The cover depicted some overly muscular man with raven hair falling stylishly over his eyes. The illustrated woman's breasts practically fell out of her skimpy top as she gazed at the hero with a "damsel in distress" expression. He laughed when he read the synopsis of Anya, the shy farm girl, falling for Ricardo, the mysterious race car driver.

He opened the book to find out why his mother found the romance genre so appealing. He shook his head in puzzlement as he read a description of Ricardo watching Anya sleep. Words like "peaceful angel" and "innocent beauty" jumped out, followed by a long paragraph that listed the fictional woman's other attributes while she slept.

Immediately closing the novel, he wondered why someone would put that much effort into seeing another person sleep if there was no scientific purpose.

But some thirty nine years later, Gil Grissom found himself watching a woman sleep for absolutely no reason.

At the moment, Sara was on her right side with the crown of her head tucked into his neck. The light and steady breathing coming from her mouth caused goose bumps on his chest. Her long limbs wrapped around him, keeping their bare bodies as close as possible. When she moved her left hand to the small of his back, he felt the brush of cool metal from her rings.

The ceremony had been held at a small park with only his mother and their closest friends present. After a quiet dinner at an Italian restaurant, the couple went home to spend their first night as the Grissoms.

And a few hours later, Gil found himself entangled with his wife. He happily sighed at the perfection of the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He smiled into her hair when she responded by brushing her lips against his collarbone and snuggling closer.

While lightly stroking her back, he finally closed his eyes. Just as he drifted into unconsciousness, a shrill ringing sound came from behind him. It wasn't the alarm clock; he knew he didn't have to set it tonight. Several seconds later, he realized it was the phone.

The phone?

Who the hell would be calling now? Tonight, of all nights. It seemed as if the whole police department knew he and Sara were getting married; they both received a barrage of well-wishers for the last couple of days. So why would anyone feel the need to call?

Sara groaned as he started to reach for the offending object. "What's going on?" She tried to raise her head.

"It's just the phone, sweetheart. Go back to sleep." Grissom coaxed her back to the comfort of his chest. He wondered if he was about to be informed that someone they knew was involved in an accident.

"Hello?" He tiredly answered.

"Is this Dr. Grissom?" A younger man's voice came from the other end.

"Yes. May ask who's calling?" He sunk on the bed, lying on his back. Sara repositioned herself on his shoulder and placed her hand over his heart.

"Sir, this is Detective Sean Overton with the LVPD. I'm on the northern end of the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest where we have a body dump. Two bodies actually. Both are just covered with bugs. One appears to be Caucasian male, mid thirties…"

Grissom couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. Either this kid didn't read the vacation schedule, or the entomologist was the victim of a very ill-timed joke. If the latter was true, he'd be having a long talk with Brass about the captain's detectives.

"…The other looks like a female in her late twenties. She'd got two GSWs in her abdomen. Both bodies look like they've been out here for a couple of days…"

While listening to the young detective's details of the crime scene, Grissom knew he wasn't lying; this man had no clue it was the graveyard supervisor's wedding night. For a brief instant, Grissom considered what Sara what would think if he left her to go work.

He pictured some bizarre alternate universe where he actually decided to take off. She'd divorce him, no doubt. And if she truly got a jury of her peers, women who were married, had brothers, or just knew a man, she would be able to take every last one of his possessions. Heck, even if men were put on the jury, they'd still convict him. The males would want to tell their wives or girlfriends they brought justice to the world. Why yes dear I voted guilty for that disgusting, horribly selfish man who left his wife on his wedding night after she waited ten years to be with him.

"…Like I said before, there are a lot bugs on these bodies, and we could really use your expertise, Dr. Grissom."

"Detective, now is not a good time." Grissom glanced down at Sara who still had her eyes closed. "I'm in the middle of a very important experiment."

There was a pause from the other end of the line. "Oh, um…it's not something that, uh, can be wrapped up soon?" The detective posed the questioned very tentatively.

"I'm afraid not," Grissom deadpanned. "I have a specimen that cannot be left alone. It sat on the shelf for far too long so it deserves all of my attention right now." His eyebrows furrowed when he felt a foot nudge his calf. He looked to see Sara with a tiny smirk on her face. She placed a couple of kisses along his jaw line.

"And uh, you-you can't get someone else to watch this…specimen?"

"No. I don't want anyone, but me, with the specimen, considering its current state." Feeling her soft, raspberry-vanilla scented skin against him made Grissom feel warm and content. "It's best that I stay here, and finish my experiment."

The detective sighed. "Do you know when you're going to be able to come to the scene?"

"I'll come to the scene when you check the vacation schedule and when it's not my wedding night." Grissom didn't give the man a chance to respond as he promptly placed the telephone back in its cradle. He groaned, and scrubbed a hand down his beard.

Sara propped herself up on her forearm. "What the hell was that about?" She demanded.

Grissom huffed, and told her what the detective had wanted. After he finished, she shook her head in exasperation. Then she let out a short laugh. "You know, I can't say that I'm surprised about this. Nobody checks the vacation schedule before they page you." She lay diagonally over his chest with her ear against his heart. "But they're just going to have to get used to the fact that you won't be able to come in as often. That your life doesn't completely revolve around work."

She wasn't speaking out of turn; his availability became slightly limited over the last year as he discovered the delight of sharing breakfast with Sara and curling up on the porch swing with her. He simply nodded while he threaded his fingers through her dark brown hair.

"And if the phone rings again," she continued, "let me answer it; I'll make it perfectly clear that no one from this house is going in."

He grinned widely at his wife. "Hell hath no fury like a woman interrupted on her wedding night."

He inhaled sharply when she placed her hands over his shoulders, and touched her nose to his. "Damn right."

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The End