Counting Down The Time
Fifteen months, twelve days, ten hours and thirty-three minutes.Gil Grissom nervously tapped his pen on the stack of paperwork that sat untouched on his desk. Outside, the nightlife of Las Vegas was slowly dwindling down and giving birth to a new day. Gamblers returned to their hotel rooms to rest up in preparation for the next night of blackjack and slots. While they slept to forget their losses or drank to celebrate their winnings, others rose and drove their kids to school, packed their lunches and waved good morning to their neighbors. The world turned and people went their merry ways. The night shift supervisor of the Las Vegas crime lab was oblivious to all that, lost in thought. The world could have ended and he'd never realize it. He kept tapping his pen restlessly. Eyes fixed on a spot on the wall, their gaze empty and tired.
Fifteen months, twelve days, ten hours and thirty-four minutes.
Only fifteen months and it felt like years. He missed her. At first he'd been stubbornly skeptical, had thought she was bluffing. She'd never leave. But she had. That's when the anger had come. He'd been mad at her, irrationally, for leaving him. Of course, then the realization had hit. He'd given her no reason to stay. First their personal relationship had deteriorated. A comfortable friendship and enduring kinship had evolved into an awkward game, both disquieted with their inscrutable emotions. In the end he'd let his troubled feelings for her dictate his professional judgement, denying her a promotion and realizing too late that he had no good reason for it. Sara on the other hand, had over the years grown to want more from him. Had wanted his time and his heart. And he...he'd denied her both. It's not that he didn't want to give her all he had to offer. It's that he didn't dare. Because he could never have it back. All that he'd hand over would be eternally hers. His mind, his body and the very core of his soul. The risk had been too much to handle. The mountain to high to climb. All the goddamned clichés applied. So that made him mad at himself, mad for being a such a timid coward. And then he just went round and round, being irate, being hurt and going right back to furious again. Round and round, pondering and wondering and getting dizzy from the effort.
He should be going home. Lord knows he could use a good rest, because sleep these days didn't come easy. A comely brunette with chocolate eyes visited him in his dreams regularly. But only in his dreams. And then he'd wake up, sweaty and lost. And he'd crave for her touch. Although he'd never touched her. Not in the way he'd wanted. But he could still imagine what she'd feel like. Vividly.
Minutes passed and he remained, now still and alone in his office. The rest of the team had gone home. They'd dealt better with Sara's absence. Nick seemed to blame him, however. The young Texan never looked at him with the same professional adoration as before. Warrick and Catherine didn't understand why he had let her leave. Catherine as a matter of fact had made it clear on several occasions that in her – not so humble – opinion he'd made a crucial mistake. Catherine never let an opportunity pass by to share her beliefs on anything. And Grissom had been the reluctant object of her latest aggravations.
As if on cue, the voluptuous blonde appeared in his doorway.
"Hey, Grissom."
She paused and leaned against his doorframe, getting no reaction.
"Earth to Gil !"
She snapped her fingers, earning a surprised glare from her friend.
"What is it, Catherine?"
"Hey, nice to see you too", she said in a faux saccharine drawl.
"Sorry."
He sighed deeply.
"Rough day, huh?"
Catherine slipped into the chair in front of Grissom's desk.
"Kind of."
"Been having a lot of those lately."
"Catherine", he warned, not keen on getting into that subject again.
"I didn't say anything."
"Right."
"I'm just thinking, you know..."
"Don't do that."
"You're hopeless."
"Don't worry about me, Catherine."
Grissom closed his eyes and gave another sigh.
"I'm fine."
"Yeah." Her voice was laden with irony.
"Of course you are."
She rose from her chair, ambled over to his side of the desk and sat down on it, laying a hand on his shoulder. He looked away.
"Gil?"
He shook his head. She grabbed his face and stared him straight in the eye with a commanding urgency.
"Call. Her."
"Cath, I don't want to get into this."
"God, you're the most pig-headed man I've ever met, and I've seen my share of stubborn characters."
She let go of his head and started pacing the floor of his office.
"Or, maybe you're just stupid! But I don't think that's it."
She cast a glance in his direction.
"You're probably just scared. Frightened and pig-headed. I mean, on the surface, you're doing fine. You run the night shift with surprising efficiency, spending even more time at work then before. You let an employee go. You dealt. You moved on."
Catherine paused for dramatic effect.
"On the surface."
Grissom gave her a pleading look.
"But I know you, Gil Adam Grissom. You're not the same. Something's missing. A light in your eyes. I don't know, joy in your life. Your laugh sounds so insincere, your smiles are only half-smiles. And you know why. I know why. And you won't do anything about it. I just don't get it."
"She left because she wanted to, Catherine. Nothing I can do about it."
"Come on. You can't be that daft! All you had to do was say you needed her. Not the lab. You."
"Catherine, please."
"That's hard for you, isn't it? To hear this. To know that it was that simple."
"It's not that simple."
"Right. You love her."
Catherine rolled her eyes and added: "That should complicate things."
He wanted to reply but the words hitched in his throat.
"Don't make it harder then it needs to be. You just have to take a chance. I mean, I've made my share of mistakes. Took a leap of faith, and got burned. Burned bad. But that doesn't mean that it has to happen to you too. Maybe it will, maybe not. But if you never try, you'll never know. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
"You done?"
She stopped pacing and let out a breath.
"Yes."
"Go home."
"How 'bout breakfast? It's eight thirty. I'm not pulling a double and neither are you. Screwdrivers and omelettes? Your place?"
Grissom took a moment and smiled endearingly at his friend.
"Sure."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXI"You ready?""Yep."
Grissom carried his bag and dumped it in the trunk of the Denali. He sat in the passenger's seat and flashed a smile at Catherine as she backed out of his driveway.
"Happy to get away from it all for a while?"
"I guess. But it's a conference, Catherine. It's still work."
"Which is exactly why I'm happy I'm not going. Plus, I'm way overdue for some quality time with Linds."
"How are you guys doing?"
"We're fine. She misses her dad, but we're a team. And Jeez, she's growing up so fast."
"She'll turn out fine. If she's anything like you."
Catherine glanced at him sideways.
"You're in a good mood."
He shrugged.
"You know, it might do you good. You'll have some time to think. About...things."
"Yeah."
"It's just a suggestion."
"You're right."
"Wow, that's a first."
"You've hit the spot a couple of times before."
"I know, I'm right most of the time. But you admitting it...priceless!"
Grissom glared at her with mock annoyance.
They drove in a comfortable silence until Catherine halted at the airport. After handing him his bags, she gave him a last once-over, like a concerned mother sending her first-born off to camp.
"Call me when you're plane gets in, okay. I'll come pick you up again. You don't have to take a cab."
"Thanks."
"No biggie."
"I mean for everything."
"Hey, big guy, don't go all mushy on me. I'll see you Friday."
Catherine smiled affectionately at her friend and then pulled him quickly into a brief embrace.
"Have fun."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIGrissom arrived late at the hotel. A bellboy showed him to his room and he fell asleep in his clothes on the warm bed. The yearly conference of the International Forensics Society was an important affair. Investigators and scientists from all over the world convened for four days and numerous renowned speakers were set to take the stage. Grissom looked forward to it tremendously. He wasn't invited to speak this year, since he'd delivered a lengthy speech at last year's conference in Berlin. But, as a matter of fact, he was quite comfortable being just a guest this year. Saved him a lot of stress. The only glitch that bothered him slightly was that the conference was held in San Diego. He would have loved to take a trip to some European city like last year. Maybe Paris. He'd never been to Paris. He'd been told it was romantic.Grissom woke up as the first rays of sun beamed through his curtains. He'd have plenty of time to shower and dress, before joining the rest of the conference goers in the breakfast hall. The entire San Diego Marriot was occupied by forensic scientists from around the globe. This was his turf, his natural habitat and so he'd made a pact with himself to mingle and just enjoy himself. He did know most of the prominent scientists by name and could probably cite a few of their major publications. Of course, he himself was very respected in his field. That is, by the twelve or so other people in the world who actually understood his work.
Grissom showered, dressed in khakis and a beige short sleeved shirt, groomed his greying beard and went downstairs for breakfast. He felt alright for the first time in a very long while. His step even had a little spring in it. Time away from the lab was doing him good. He was even hungry. Scintillating smells emanating from the breakfast hall, drew him in that direction. But as he rounded the corner he collided with an oncoming form. Grissom started to mutter apologies.
"God, I'm sorry. I'm so hungry I don't know what I'm doing."
He laughed a little embarrassedly, before looking up and losing his breath.
"Sara", he gasped.
"Grissom?", she asked, wide-eyed, but well aware that this was indeed the man who'd taught her all about forensics. She was still trying to forget this was also the man who had stolen her heart.
The sound of her voice, so close, burned a hole in his heart and he felt the adrenaline shoot up and diffuse in his system.
"Hi", he breathed.
She smiled at him.
"Hi."
He tried to smile back, but only stared at her, completely taken by surprise. Although he should have known. The conference was an crucial function and she'd rather die than miss the opportunity to learn from the protagonists in their field.
"You look great."
"So do you."
Just then, he noticed the man standing next to her and a pang of jealousy hit him. He was short and a little pudgy, with beady eyes.
"Oh, this is Max Steinberg. We work together at the San Francisco crime lab", Sara offered.
"Max, this is..."
"This man needs no introduction, dear. Dr. Grissom I'm a big fan of your work."
"Thank you. Call me Grissom, by the way. Everybody does."
"Alright."
The short man looked back and forth from Grissom to Sara, noticing their shy gazes and uncomfortable stances.
"That's right. You two know each other. From back in Las Vegas, right?"
Sara turned to her new colleague.
"Yeah. Grissom was my mentor."
She chanced a look in his direction. Grissom nodded.
"My star pupil."
Max patted Sara on the back.
"She's a star alright. It's your loss, I guess. But, we're very happy to have her on board."
He chuckled to himself unaware of the unease of his company and the painful reality of Grissom's feeling of deprivation.
"Listen, kid. I'm gonna go over there for a couple of minutes. Meet you in the lobby in about ten?"
Sara nodded at her companion. Max left, waving enthusiastically at a chatting couple standing near the elevators.
"So."
"So", she parotted.
"How've you been?"
"Good. It's fun to be back in San Francisco. And the guys I work with are just...well you've seen it. I'm good. You?"
"Good", he lied.
"That's good."
"Yeah."
Something about his woman seemed to reduce his otherwise extensive vocabulary to single syllable words. She – much to his exasperation - left him absolutely tongue-tied.
"Settling in well?"
"Well, I've been with them for over a year. So, I've settled in just fine."
"I'm glad to hear to that", he said, although he was anything but.
"How are the guys? Nick, Warrick. How's Greg?"
"Greg's spending more time in the field, now that...after you...now you're gone."
"Ah, he's gotta love that."
"He does."
"I bet he follows you around like a puppy dog."
Grissom laughed lightly.
"Yes, he does."
"Give him my love, will you?"
Grissom stared at her. It was like a sadness suddenly swept over her.
"Don't tell me you miss Greg", he joked.
"A little, our DNA guy's kind of boring. Doesn't play music, and he just hands you the facts, without putting up a fight. That sort of takes the fun out of it. But don't tell him I said that."
Grissom chuckled.
"I won't."
Sara sighed and nervously shifted her weight on her other foot.
"So, you here till Friday?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah, me too. I didn't see your name on the list of speakers. So I figured you weren't going to be here."
The realization that she'd checked the list for his name, warmed him up inside.
"I'm not giving any presentations this year."
"Too bad. I always liked yours. You were my favorite."
Grissom's heart skipped a beat at her honest, but innocent confession. He wanted to tell her she was his favorite too, like a smitten school boy. He settled for a graceful acceptance of her compliment.
"Thank you. That's very kind of you."
Sara shrugged.
"I should go. Max will be waiting for me. It was good seeing you."
"Hang on."
Grissom followed her as she turned away. She smiled at him, but kept walking in the direction of the lobby.
"What?"
"Am I going to see you?"
That stopped her, and Grissom nearly bumped into her. Again.
"You probably will. Around."
"Right. I mean...It's been so long. Maybe we could, I mean, if you have the time, have dinner or something."
Sara gazed at him, not quite believing her ears. Three years earlier, she'd asked him the same thing. Did he want to have dinner? To see what happens? He'd bluntly said no. She hadn't understood why. She was even more in the dark about his current intentions. They hadn't talked in over a year and all of a sudden he wants to take her to dinner? Only Grissom could find logic in that.
"I don't know, Grissom."
"Just dinner. We could catch up."
He smiled his boyish smile at her. The one that always made her weak in the knees. It still did.
"Dinner?", Sara probed.
"Yes."
"Okay."
His smile grew wider and created thin lines around his gorgeous blue eyes.
"I'll call you."
"My room's 2003. Or you can call my cell. Do you have my number?"
"Yeah."
Grissom failed to tell her she was still on his speed dial. Sadly enough, apart from Catherine, the only other numbers on his speed dial were those of the Italian and Chinese take out joints a couple of blocks from his townhouse. Hysterical. Pathetic. Very telling also.
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIThey kept running into each other during the conference. They seemed to pick the same workshops and were interested in identical lectures. Most of the time Max accompanied Sara and continually made jokes that no one, but him, thought were funny. They laughed anyway. A couple of times Grissom bumped into Sara as she wandered around alone. They shared short conversations, that flowed with startling ease. As if fifteen months apart had altered things, lifting the discomfort from their encounters. Grissom, however, was all too aware of the fact that nothing had changed between them. Except for maybe that he wanted her more, missed her more and had finally figured out that his life was much better with her in it. On Wednesday night he got up the courage to phone her room. His heart beat a wildly staccato rhythm in his chest and sweat beads formed on his forehead as soon as he dialled her number. She picked up on the third ring."Hi."
"Grissom, hey."
"How's it going? Did you check out the lecture that professor Davenport gave on lifting prints from human skin? They've done a number of trials, with amazing success rates. It was very interesting."
Grissom sputtered words fast and nervously.
"I was there, Grissom. And, yeah, it was very interesting. I've actually met him before. He consulted on a case of mine last month. Very charming man."
If she could have seen him, Sara would have been delighted to watch Grissom's visage turning green with envy.
Grissom swallowed hard.
"He seemed nice enough. I don't know him, though."
"So, anyway. You were saying?"
"Uhm", he cleared his throat, "would you like to have dinner with me tonight? That is, if you're not doing anything else."
"Sure. Meet me at eight in the lobby?"
Her willingness caught him off guard.
"Okay", he stuttered, "Max isn't coming, right?"
"Max won't be there. I'll make sure he's otherwise engaged. He's a doll, but he can be a pain in the ass sometimes."
"A doll?"
"Yeah. That's what his boyfriend calls him. It's a little disconcerting, I know."
"I'm liking the guy more and more."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXISara Sidle stood in the lobby of the Marriot Hotel. Several guests had passed on their way to the dining hall. Several men had ogled her. She wore the elegant black dress with the low back that she bought for the holidays last year. It looked stunning on her and with her brown hair tied up in a bun, a few loose strands framing her pale face, she presented a textbook example of graciousness. Grissom noticed it too, the moment he stepped out of the elevator."Hi, Sara. You look...", he searched for the right term, but no word came close to describing how she looked to him.
"Amazing", he settled for.
"Thank you. You look pretty sharp yourself."
"Shall we?"
Grissom took her arm and led her out the door.
"Where are we going? I thought we'd just have dinner at the hotel."
"I made reservations", he explained as he hailed a cab.
They didn't speak until the car stopped at a small Moroccan restaurant on a fairly quiet side street.
"How do you know about this?"
"I asked around."
"This is a great place, you know."
"Have you been here before?"
The thought of her going on a date with some other guy, sharing laughs and touches over a romantic dinner, frustrated him no end.
"I've heard about it", Sara replied quickly, "Let's go. I'm getting hungry."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIGrissom and Sara were seated at a private booth. The only light came from tens of huge candles and many more little ones, scattered around the restaurant. They discussed the menu and settled on a dish called Moroccan Pleasures, a culinary tour of the country, served for two. When the waiter left, a silence fell and Sara started fidgeting with her napkin."It's a little weird, huh?", she finally said, "seeing each other after such a long time."
"I wouldn't say weird. I just didn't expect it."
"You don't have to sound so disappointed. After all, you asked me to dinner."
"Sara, that's the last thing I feel, disappointment."
"I bet you were disappointed when I left. With me being your star pupil and everything", Sara matter-of-factly stated, no longer afraid to open to proverbial can of worms.
Grissom recuperated fast and retorted: "I felt a lot of things then."
"You didn't say anything."
"No."
"You could have said something. Anything. Like, It was great having you here. Thank you for coming out to Las Vegas and helping me out. You're a good sport, Sidle. Anything."
"I was taken by surprise", Grissom said dimly.
"Come on, Grissom. My leaving was a long time coming."
"I guess I wasn't paying attention."
"Damn straight", Sara said acidly. Then her face softened.
"I'm sorry, Grissom. Let's not do this. What's in the past, is in the past. We can't change that."
"If only."
The perky waiter chose that moment to bring their drinks, making profuse efforts to ensure that they were enjoying their evening. When he backed away, Sara put her crumpled napkin down on the table and said,
"Any interesting cases lately?"
"A few."
Grissom sighed.
"Sara, I wanted to tell you a few things."
"Grissom, I told you. Don't bother. We've left that life behind us. Whatever difficulties we've had in the past, for whatever reasons, it doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does", he said decidedly, "It does to me."
"Why now, Grissom? You didn't even know you where going to run into me, did you?"
"I guess it's fate."
"Griss, you don't believe in fate. You only believe in science."
"I may have been wrong about that."
"Well, you were wrong about a lot of things", Sara replied, more despondently than she'd intended.
"I screwed up on a lot of fronts. I really messed things up with you. I never wanted you to leave and yet I drove you away."
"Don't give yourself too much credit. There were a number of things that made me leave Las Vegas. Your lack of respect for me, both personally and professionally was just one of them."
"You weren't happy there."
"At first I think I was content,...maybe. But things caught up with me. Stuff that I thought I could leave behind. My therapist showed me that you can't run from something that's inside you. No matter where you go, it always catches up."
"You're seeing a therapist?", Grissom inquired, surprised.
"I did for while. I guess leaving Las Vegas didn't solve my problem either. Therapy helped however. I'm doing okay now."
"I'm happy for you."
He wondered how he could have missed that she had been so distressed back in Las Vegas. He'd been so wrapped up in his own problems that he'd completely overlooked Sara's growing discomfort.
The waiter was a little more reserved when he brought their food, sensing the seriousness of the mood at the table. They ate in silence for a while.
"You know, Catherine called me a couple of times, after I left."
"She did?"
"Told me you were being an ass. I didn't contradict her."
"Catherine."
"She knows you best."
"I'm going to kill her."
Sara chuckled in spite of herself, as she envisioned him doing just that.
"What's so funny?"
"You killing Catherine. You could probably get away with it too. What with your forensic knowledge and everything."
"That's not funny", he said, but smiled anyway.
"Worst thing is, she was probably right. Catherine has this annoying way of being spot on about certain things."
"She's a smart woman."
"Don't I know it."
"She still want your job?"
"Oh yeah. You know, she can have it too."
"Don't want to be a supervisor anymore?"
"Never did in the first place. I just sort of fell into it."
"And here I was, thinking your job was all important to you. So important you couldn't risk it. Say, for a woman or something", Sara uttered calmly, taking a bite from a piece of chicken.
Surprised by her tearing candor, Grissom choked on couscous. He coughed spastically. Sara handed him her glass of water, scooted over to his side of the table and rubbed his back gently.
She smiled as he wiped tears from his eyes.
"You okay?"
"Ouch, that hurt."
He sipped from her glass.
"Thanks."
Sara's hand lingered on his back.
"I didn't mean to upset you. As a matter of fact, I don't blame you anymore. My therapist showed me that holding a grudge will only exacerbate my problems, not make them go away."
"I like your therapist."
"Me too."
"But she..."
"He."
"He...doesn't know you have every right to be mad at me."
"Oh no, he knows."
"Great. I feel a bit exposed."
"I gave him an alias. How 'bout that?"
Grissom looked at her defiantly.
"Okay, maybe not."
"It's okay, I don't care."
"Right."
She pulled her hand back.
"Sara, no."
He grabbed her hand and held on to it.
"I didn't mean that I don't care about you."
"You have a funny way of showing it."
"I never showed you just how much I care."
"Grissom, not now."
Sara tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on tight.
"Why not now? Just let me say it. I don't care what you do with it, but I need to say it. It's the right thing."
"You're telling me you have something important to tell me, after fifteen months of dead silence? You had more than a year to call me. You just had to pick up the phone, Grissom."
"Fifteen months, seventeen days, twenty-two hours and...", he checked his watch, "forty-nine minutes."
"What?"
"Fifteen..."
"I heard you. What?"
"That's how long it's been since you handed in your resignation. That's how much time I've had to think this to death."
"Grissom", Sara sighed, her tense hand relaxing in his grip. His fingers gently kneaded her flesh.
"I've made so many mistakes in my life. But only one of them I regret."
Sara's free hand fluttered up to cup his face. Grissom closed his eyes a moment before continuing.
"I never told you how I feel. About you. How much you mean to me. I've wasted so much time..."
"Shhh."
Sara traced her fingers over his lips, shutting him up.
"Don't tell me", she whispered hoarsely, looking into his blue eyes, "Show me."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIThe atmosphere in the cab was heavy-laden with sultry tension. They sat close together on the back seat, gazes locked, hands wandering, faces flushed. Neither spoke a word, so enveloped in their reverie.They first kissed in the elevator riding up to Grissom's room on the sixth floor. He pushed her back against the mirror and wrapped both arms possessively around her slender body. Sara responded by throwing her own arms around his neck and drawing him closer, deepening the smoldering kiss, filling her with maddening tension, that gripped her body with sudden fierceness.
The ding of the elevator bell startled them into reality and Grissom grabbed Sara's hand to lead her to his room.
Barely inside, he scooped her up in a swift, strong motion and carried her to the bed.
"Griss", she murmured, delighting in the sensations that overtook her body.
"Sara?"
She pulled him on top of her, but he rolled them over.
"Call me Gil, will you?"
She grinned at him.
"Gil, make love to me."
"Oh, I intend to."
He slowly kissed a trail down her neck while he moved her dress up over her head, exposing her trim body, now clad merely in black lace panties.
He let out a deep breath at the sight of her in the light of a full moon, piercing through the curtains.
Sara desperately clawed at the buttons of his shirt and finally, in exasparation, just ripped the piece of clothing from his muscular torso.
"Hey, that was a good shirt", he joked.
"Take your pants off, before I rip them too."
Grissom's face flushed from her lascivious directness.
"Please?", she added with a lustfull smile.
He stripped to his boxers fast and got back on the bed with her, placing wet kisses on her stomach and back up to her face. He lingered teasingly over her lips, bringing his face close enough for their breaths to intermingle, but not quite close enough to touch. She bucked under his body and desperately lifted her face to kiss him. He backed away slightly and pinned her down on the bed by her wrists. It felt strangely enticing to her to be overpowered by this lewdly potent man. She was putty in his hands, he could do anything with her, anything and everything he wished.
"I want to kiss you", she pleaded.
Gil licked her earlobe and bit down on it gently.
"Look at me."
He moved so that his piercing blue gaze met her troubled brown orbs and bent his face down to kiss her with abandon. He released his grip on her wrists so she could wrap her arms around his back and draw him closer still.
She moaned into the kiss as she felt his arousal against the inside of her leg and reached down his body to rid him of the constraining boxers and run her fingers over the length of him. Gil let his large, warm hands travel down her body, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, and easily slid the lace panties off.
"Gil?", Sara sighed.
"What, honey?"
"I want you so bad, but if this is just a way of dealing with the past, I don't want...this", she said huskily.
"Honey, this is about now and about taking care of the future."
He kissed her and searched her gaze to ensure that it was okay to move on. Her eyes were filled with passion and something he'd never seen before, a contentment, an approval. That's all he needed.
He slid into her in one powerful, yet gentle stroke, making her buck her hips and groan in pleasure.
"Oooh, Gil", she crooned.
He tried to move slowly, but the heat in his loins and his passion for her absorbed him and he drove himself into her with maddening force. Sara urged him on by wrapping her legs around his waist and meeting his vigorous thrusts with her own movement. She dug her nails into his back as he flicked his thumb over the tiny bundle of nerves between her folds to increase her pleasure. The room filled with grunts and moans and hot air. Bodies colliding, souls intertwining, tension rising until the all consuming cathartic explosion when they jointly lost control and let their bodies become one in a frantic clutter of limbs.
Gil rested his tired body on top of his new lover, his face in the crook of her neck, smelling the sweet scent of her sweat. When he felt like he could move a bit again, he tried to shift his weight from her slender form. Sara held him tight to her as he started to soften inside her.
"Don't move."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"It feels great. Don't move."
She weaved her elegant fingers through his salt and pepper curls as he nuzzled her neck and kissed her ear.
He moved his arms under her and flipped them so Sara lay on top of him, still joined.
"I liked that", she said, grinning.
"Me too."
"I've been wanting to do that since..."
She pretended to be thinking hard.
"...since I first saw you."
"Those were very inappropriate thoughts to have in a classroom", he teased as he cupped her firm bottom.
"I know."
"Hey?"
"Yes."
"I..." He wavered.
She raised one eyebrow in question.
"I wanted to say it before. I wanted to scream it just now."
"What?"
"But I was afraid you wouldn't believe me."
"Believe what?"
Gil let out a long sigh.
"That I love you."
Sara smiled sweetly at him.
"Oh, I would have believed you."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIGil Grissom checked his watch for the tenth time in the last seven minutes. Then he eyed the board announcing the arrivals again. Her flight had come in twenty minutes ago and she'd yet to show up in the arrival hall at McCarran. To be honest, he was getting nervous, very nervous. Had she changed her mind? After their passionate encounter at the conference, they'd kept in contact over the phone and just to show her how serious he was taking their budding romance, he'd taken fourteen days off in the last two months, all of which he spent in San Francisco. Their days together had been filled with long walks and intimate conversations, their nights with gentle and sometimes frantic lovemaking, their need for each other overwhelming and breathtakingly incessant. When he returned to Las Vegas, he missed her. Imagined her arms around him as he slept, talked to her even though she wasn't there.Among his co-workers, Catherine was the most suspicious. She'd given him the third degree when he had gotten back from the conference and Grissom hadn't been able to hide the huge grin that was more or less permanently plastered on his face since that fateful first night when he'd made to love to Sara. So Catherine had grilled him, teased him, almost tortured him, but to her rising frustration, he'd given up nothing. 'You got laid, I just know it', she'd said and had left his office irked. Secretly she was happy for her friend. She'd have been even happier if she'd known who the source of Grissom's perpetual pleasant mood was.
As he waited at McCarran, Gil thought of how the gang would react when they saw Sara and learned of their romantic involvement. She'd taken a temporary teaching position at UNLV and had asked for a leave of absence from the San Francisco crime lab. Three months. It was a first step in advancing their relationship. Sara had even denied UNLV's proposition to get her appropriate housing for the time she'd spend there. She'd stay with him, in his house, his bed. Strangely enough, he felt incredibly excited at that prospect. He'd never shared his space with anyone. They'd both have to adjust.
"Hey! Are you going to help me with those bags?", Sara's teasing voice resounded from behind him.
He pivoted and flashed a relieved smile at her, before scooping her up into his arms.
"Hello, beautiful."
"Hey, you."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and took the time to kiss him thoroughly, not minding the amused looks of the people around them.
"I'm so happy you came."
"You weren't afraid that I'd changed my mind, were you?"
She wiped her lip-gloss from his face.
"Not for a minute", Grissom replied, but his eyes betrayed him.
"Oh, honey."
"I wouldn't have blamed you."
"Yes, you would have."
"Maybe", he said with a lopsided grin, "I'd have been very, very disappointed."
"Really? Now why would that be?"
"It's all about your luscious body", he teased, then whispered, "and the great sex."
"I knew it", she said, smiling at their light banter.
Grissom's face, however, got grave all of a sudden. Sara reached up to caress his neck. He covered her hand with his and kissed it with mind-numbing mildness.
"I love you", he said.
"I know."
"Good."
He gave her a funny look, then said,
"Anything you want to share with me?"
"I kind of like you too", she quipped, "sometimes."
He laughed and kissed the smug look from her face.
"Okay, I like you a lot, all the time."
"That's better."
"Let's go home, so I can show you just how much I adore you."
He quickly threw her bags over his shoulder.
"My thoughts exactly."
IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIFin
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