Title: O_O Ficathon entry
Rating: T+/R
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: G to the S to the R
My Prompts: Reuben Sandwhich, Popsicle, Cellophane Noodles.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, but I am making my bid for the spin off- GSR: San Francisco ^_^
A/N: Mingsmommy- I cannot thank you enough for this, she was there when yesterday I ran to her crying because I hadn't finished writing this yet, and for beta-ing these lumps of goo --big hugs-- Also, Teh Smoose because well... with a name like that she's gotta be cool!
Oh and there's a reason for the order they're in :P
Popsicles
It was summer in Vegas; not my favourite time of year. So, I slipped on some short shorts and one of the tank tops Gil had shrunk in the wash; it was too hot to bother with a bra. Grabbing a Popsicle from the freezer, I went to sit down on the sofa waiting for Gil to come home. I started at the base near the stick, and lick up one side. Circled the tip with my tongue, and then dipped down to put the whole thing in my mouth to suckle on it.
Anyway, there I was happily slurping on my Popsicle, revelling in its icy chill, when I heard the familiar sound of the key in the front door. So, I decided to play a little and started to bob my head taking in the icy treat as far as I could, noisily slurping and moaning. Needless to say, Gil stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly agape. I pulled it out to swirl my tongue over the top again. I slipped it out of my mouth and slid it down my neck, gasping at the coldness of it. I then rubbed it over my nipples, staining the material and making my nipples stand to attention. Bringing it back to my mouth I continued to slurp and suckle at it.
A few moments later and all that was left was the stick. I looked over at him, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face, whether it was from the heat outside or my little show I couldn't tell. Before I knew it he had pulled me up off the sofa, threw me over his shoulder and was marching off to our bedroom.
I don't think I have to say what happened next. But it was exactly what I wanted.
Reuben Sandwich
It was all Gil's fault.
All of it.
He decided one morning that he wanted a Reuben for breakfast, and he sat across the table from me. The smell was the first thing that got me. It wafted across the kitchen when he was grilling the cheese, and penetrated my nostrils. Dear GOD it smelled good. Then it was on the plate in front of me, between the crispy, perfectly toasted slices of bread, and the melted cheese smothering it, looking succulent and delicious. I know I know… the beef was an animal, raised in a cage so small it could hardly move, but… it just looked so good, and you can't say corned beef actually looks like a cow. Stupid cravings, I suppose I should really blame it on the baby- but that's a bit mean, blaming your unborn child because you want some meat. So I blame Gil for cooking it in the first place; and hey, I didn't get pregnant on my own. I glanced back at the sandwich. Oooh it still looked tempting.
Oh my. He's left it unattended. Gil was getting a bottle of water from the fridge. It was a sign! The planets aligned. Written in the stars. And all those other clichés that people say when finding an excuse to do something.
I leaned forward and grabbed it, as soon as I sunk my teeth into the crumbly beef and the tangy sauerkraut, I groaned so loudly Gil whipped his head around. I didn't care. I was in heaven. He just stood there, while his mind registered that I was eating his sandwich. Although we both knew that it wasn't just ANY sandwich. I gobbled it all so fast that he couldn't even say anything to stop me. As he approached, I slumped back in my seat, a satisfied smirk on my face. To be honest, at that point I did feel a little guilty. The feeling soon passed, and as I said, "It was your fault anyway."
Cellophane Noodles
Sluuuuuuurp.
Gil glanced across the table at his daughter.
Sluuuuuurp.
She looked like some sort of deranged sea creature with the cellophane noodles hanging out of her mouth. He continued to watch as she tried to get some more on her pink princess fork. Then ramming the fork in her mouth as quickly as possible, she sucked the noodles into her mouth, sauce splattering over her face as they were devoured.
Smirking slightly at her almost perfected technique, he continued to watch; she tried to get the last few from her plate, the pink tip of her tongue poking through the lips, brow creased in concentration. He turned his head to look at Sara, with her tongue poking out and a creased brow as she too tried to get the last few noodles off her plate. Gil couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped, and then the other one as both his girls lifted their heads and gave him the same quizzical look.