Disclaimer: Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom finally managed to run away from the control of TPTB, and currently still reside somewhere close to the equator having the time of their lives. Who am I to say anybody owns them!
Author Notes: It has been an absolutely glorious Easter Sunday here in England. I dreamed this one up sat leisurely on a swing seat in my Uncle's garden in beautiful sunshine. 'Aint that the life!!
This takes place some time after the happy ending in 'One To Go.'
Starry, Starry Night.
By Rianne.
He was suddenly not so sure that this was the greatest idea he had ever had.
In theory it had sounded wonderful.
Blissfully romantic.
But now as he had taken a step back to survey his masterpiece…
Hmmmm…
Suddenly this was definitely looking more like a venture fraught with some pretty obvious problems.
Before him the whole thing creaked, and groaned, wobbled and wavered.
There was no way this was going to work…
It would sway, and then most likely snap its mooring trees.
He could just hear Sara's near hysterical cry of 'Timber' echoing out into the surrounding undergrowth.
Either that or it would rip into two pieces, with an ear piercing shredding of cloth.
And then slump, fallen to the ground.
How did he get talked into these things?
Oh, yes…
Because she loved him.
And because there was nothing else in the world he loved more than her.
It was her birthday.
It had been that which had started it all.
It was her birthday.
Her thirty-seventh to be exact.
For her thirty-fifth he had bought her an ipod.
Her thirty-fourth had gifted her with a naughty and romantic weekend away.
Even her thirty-sixth had been celebrated, or at least commiserated.
Even during all the pain and confusion of the last year.
He had sent her a picture.
Of her, and of him, and of Hank.
All three with arms about one another.
All three laughing, even the dog.
His favourite picture, his framed reminder and lifeline.
His family.
Their family.
She had called him in tears, but she had called him.
Speaking for the first time in several long stretching and exhausting weeks.
Bringing them to another starting point.
Another chance.
Another chance, which had led to them being thousands of miles away.
Quite literally on the other side of the world.
Brought them back together.
But today she was thirty-seven.
And he'd had nothing to give.
And as much as he knew she didn't expect.
And as much as he knew she wouldn't mind.
He had wanted to give.
Needed to give something. Or do something. To celebrate somehow.
But he had entered the jungle with the clothes on his back and the items in his rucksack.
Throwing off the vestiges of his old life to embrace the complete newness of this one.
And it had been weeks since then.
Weeks of blissful isolation and rediscovery.
Remote, awe inspiring, shared only with a few other scientists and environmental pioneers.
But with all this joyful wonder came weeks of no new supplies and learning to make do and improvise.
So he had done what he could.
He had snuck out early.
Reluctantly leaving her.
Untangling their cosy limbs.
Venturing out into the dawning sounds of life in all its abundant glory.
Had stolen a beautiful bloom from its lofty perch and returning laid it sweet scented and delicate beside her on the pillow.
The untainted image of Pre-Raphaelite beauty in the jungle.
When she hadn't stirred he had drawn the flower over her cheek, silk against silk.
Caressing it over her thin and fluttering eyelids.
Dusting it over her long sleek lashes.
Over the pillowy soft velvet of her lips.
Feeling them part, half gasp, half sigh.
Breezing his fingertips with her warmth.
Watching her eyes blink open, and smiling as she stretched gloriously to meet the day.
Her smile turning coy and shy as she remembered.
As he whispered, "Happy Birthday."
Holding the flower out to her.
His meagre offering.
Her sleep flushed cheeks warming.
Always one to blush in the spotlight.
Someone who deserved the attention all the more.
Who treasured every sweetly torturous moment of it.
He had knelt down beside their rickety bed.
Bringing their noses level.
Nuzzling in closer.
Smiling.
Brushing noses, slow and sweet.
The tickling pleasure of being so simply close.
Then sinking into her.
Lips to welcoming lips.
Her willing and soft mouth falling open on a heady gasp.
Her breath, her softness, her sighs.
Then easing back, their lips parting slowly with lingering reluctance.
Stroking her hair gently.
Caressing the curls, buoyant in the humidity.
Seeing the contented smile in her eyes.
Feeling it in his own heart.
He had whispered to her.
Warm, intimate words of a plan to sneak away.
To snatch just one evening for themselves.
To steal away into the undergrowth.
Just the two of them.
Just for one night.
But her face when he had told her.
The way that with one simple, quivering smile.
With eyes misting over.
With the cutest crinkle of her nose.
He had known that just being there.
Just being him.
Beside her.
That was the best thing she could have ever asked for.
That was all she had ever wanted.
So here he was.
Miles from anywhere.
Having just enjoyed a simple, but satisfying, meal cooked by firelight.
Both luxuriating in the longed for privacy of it being just the two of them.
Time alone was painfully rare, and usually, mournfully used for sleep.
So they took their blissful time.
Enjoying whispered words shared in sweetest intimacy, followed by surrender into heated kissed drowned leisurely in.
He had then been forced to drag himself away and spend time on this…
Which found him right now.
With hammer in one hand.
Nails in the other.
Ropes tied tightly around trunks, karabinered for strength.
Standing back to admire his handyman hammock skills…
Or maybe his handyman handicap.
But the light was rapidly fading.
It was looking like it was this or nothing.
Turning to her he held his hand out gallantly.
But his offer of 'Ladies First' was met with the Sara Sidle eyebrow.
Of course…
So he tested it slowly.
Easing his body weight into it.
Quivering as it went.
Fully aware that she stood right behind him.
His audience of one.
That huge grin broad and gorgeous across her face.
The one person he still stupidly always wanted to impress.
Just waiting for him to mess this up and end up in a heap on the ground.
He could already hear the musical peal of her laughter.
See the light dance in her eyes as he landed with an almighty thump right on his behind.
Or maybe his head.
But it held fast.
Steady.
These last few weeks in the jungle heat had obviously been good to him.
Or maybe he had just sweated away half his body weight.
Maybe it was that.
He certainly didn't hold his engineering skills in that high a regard.
Sara was the physics major.
The one with the mechanical smarts.
He was the man with the books, the one who knew the answers to how and why, but lacked the actual practice.
But maybe that guy triumphed at other things sometimes.
He had certainly proved that these last few weeks.
He had changed his world.
Who said you couldn't teach an old dog new tricks?!
He had some pretty damning evidence to smash that theory all the hell.
He was having the time of his life.
Absorbed in the Costa Rican Jungle.
With the love of his life.
With a daily existence which could change in an instant.
With the whole jungle experience exhilarating and invigorating the beat of his heart.
Here he was swinging in a hammock, at the close of day.
Holding out his hand to the woman he was falling in love with all over again.
A changed woman.
Her light was back.
She was so at home here that she glowed.
She looked healthy and carefree and she laughed.
She laughed like she had in the beginning.
Before the long stretching years of Las Vegas Graveyard darkness had stolen unbidden into her heart.
Had captured that beautiful emotion lifting sound and held it hostage.
But the jungle had freed it again.
Had exorcised so many ghosts and demons and regrets.
The moisture refreshing and the constant blink and you'll miss it fascination had reawoken the investigator in her.
Invigorated and revitalized.
She had a new plight now.
She no longer tried to save the world one victim at a time.
Instead she fought just as hard for another cause.
Just as stridently.
With just as much of her love and passion and enormous heart.
A plight just as important.
One just as worthy.
She fought to protect, to document, to preserve.
To keep humanity from destroying the habitats of so many creatures, all for that one extra dollar, or that one extra material possession.
And in doing so she was helping herself.
Learning about herself.
Her desires, her wants, her innate creativity.
Her photographs alone were exquisite.
Each image aglow with the essence of Sara.
Her excitement.
Her belief.
Her faith.
It was a hard and simple life, and yet she was flourishing.
And he was too.
They were healthier.
They slept longer.
Falling into warm arms and sweet dreams not long after the sun set and rising as day broke.
The weight was lifted.
The pressure was gone.
They were almost like children again.
Eager to explore.
Their new home, and its inhabitants.
And each other.
Unable to keep their hands to themselves.
Freer.
More vulnerable, more intimate.
More carefree.
Acting without having to fear judgement.
Giddy.
Happy.
In love.
"You trust me?" He teased from his new lofty perch, smiling like the cat who got the canary.
She could almost see his moustache of bright yellow Tweety bird feathers.
She smiled back, her lips quirking sideways.
Both at the invite and the memories flooding forth at the familiar words.
She waited.
She wanted too.
He could tell, but she was holding out.
So what if they fell to the ground!
They'd never know until they tried.
With only a slight hesitation she stepped closer and placed her hand into his.
"Intimately," she intoned breathlessly, allowing him to grasp her waist with his huge palms, leaning carefully over from his lying position.
At the archaic embrace she felt a twinge of the heroine.
Took a stolen gasp of breath, heaving her breasts, with the air of a female helplessly in love.
Then she nodded.
Nodded when he grinned and growled out, "you ready?"
Then she was in motion.
Laughing wildly as he swung her up into his arms.
The hammock rushing in a sharp tumultuous sweep.
Breezing a rock from side to side.
The humid air roaring past their ears.
He lowered her more carefully.
Giddy with the sway.
Bringing her down nose to nose.
Her legs tangling with his, her palms flat on his chest.
They hovered there.
Waiting.
Eyes wide and full of laughter.
Waiting for the earth to give out beneath them.
Waiting for proof that none of this was really real.
That this was all some delirious delusion.
Around them the jungle seemed to fall silent.
As if every animal, every insect, every bird, everything was waiting.
Waiting to see.
But the hammock held.
As if their love and adoration alone were keeping it taut.
"Are we safe?" she gasped still breathless, still afraid to move.
He answered her query with a hungry kiss.
Pulling her down to him.
Luxuriating in the warm, soft, squirming weight of her.
His libido roaring like he was twenty again.
The breezy sway of the swing hypnotic and sensual, as their clothes slipped away.
As their touches strayed, and their mouths broke hot kisses to gasp.
Their skin glowing and glistening in the firelight.
As their bodies welcomed and embraced.
Rocked and arched and intimately thrust.
Cried and trembled and fell sated and shivering under the emerging stars.
"Happy Birthday," he whispered again into her hair.
Feeling the shimmers of aftershocks still trailing through her.
His palms sliding a soothing rhythm over her bare back.
The sway still breezing, cooling their heated skin.
She curled closer to him, as he brought a thin cover over their bodies.
And they lay gazing upwards.
Up into the heavens.
The dark velvet sky and all its glittering stars visible through the breaks in the lush canopy.
But she had no wishes left to make.
She already had more than she had ever dreamed of.
With a shared sigh both relaxed sleepily into their perfect snatch of quiet.
'I'm so thankful," she finally whispered back to him.
Her words vulnerable and shy and filled with the warmth of her emotion.
There were so many other things to say, so many words of thanks and delight left unspoken.
But they had forever.
"I love you," she whispered.
As their heart rates slowed again, stopped racing in their ears.
With a smile he carefully raised himself slightly, reaching up an arm to unhook the mosquito net he had strung up, letting it fall with a swish around them, concealing them like they were in a princesses canopy bed.
Protecting them.
"I love you."
He replied just as softly as he settled back down, curling up more comfortably, pressing a kiss to her hair.
As the sounds of the jungle began filtering back to them.
The cries of monkey's, the crunch of animals in motion, the twitter of winged things, and the steady hum of insect life.
The perfect birthday chorus.
And the gentle sway.
Soothing both into the lull of sleep.
And the tempting promise of tomorrow.