Consistent with Restraint

By AnitaB

Author's notes: I've been a Gil/Sara shipper since season one. And while I'm overjoyed that the show finally saw sense, I wrote this little piece before their official writers got on the band wagon. Rape cases always get under Sara's skin and she's always been able to get under Gil's skin. Finally their restraint shatters. On with the romantic smut.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth winning in a law suit.

Consistent with Restraint

By AnitaB

Chapter one: Self-restraints

"I don't care what … that man… or his lawyer will tell you. It was not sex. It was rape."

Standing next to him, Grissom could feel the tension thrumming up and down the muscles of Sara's back. Cases like this always made her… jumpier… than usual. It would be wise to keep a close eye on her. And not, Grissom told the little voice at the back of his brain, because of how beautiful anger looked on her. //Especially when it sometimes lets you touch her.\\

There was that voice again. The one that kept getting harder and harder to silence. The voice that always without fail pointed out to Grissom Sara's smile, the soft warmth of her skin against his, the scent of her hair. //Yeah, that's the voice.\\

"Let's go, Sara. The lab is calling us." Touching one hand to her elbow, Grissom tried to lead her away from the one way mirror and out of this room. But Sara wasn't about to budge.

"No, Gris, I'm going to take the photos when they're done talking to her." Her arm moved away from his fingers and Grissom missed the touch. And when Sara tucked that arm back tight against her ribs, he had to pull farther back. The urge to hug her like she was hugging herself, to pull her against his chest and … well, it was easier to resist from a little more distance.

"Sara, the hospital techs did that with the rape kit."

"And we've both seen how badly done some of those photos are, Grissom." Uh-oh, his complete last name and in that voice. There was going to be no changing Sara's mind. "We'd certainly lose half the details in picts like that."

"All right, Sara, I'll head back and start processing her car." Angry Sara was dangerous Sara, to his self control. It always made him wonder how all that lovely passion and fire would present in other circumstances like //Gil Grissom, don't you dare even think it.\\ "See you back at the lab."

"Yeah, later, Gris."

Beating a hasty retreat, Grissom again reminded himself to behave. //God, I have these kinds of cases.\\

000

Something wasn't quite making sense to Sara and the wad of photos spread over her desk wasn't helping enough. She needed to visualize it better… experiment time.

Standing, Sara found her feet taking her to Grissom in the garage without any conscious direction on the part of her brain. She stopped at the door and watched him for a minute or three. Gil was always so on guard if he knew anyone was around… even her. Especially her, sometimes. And Sara certainly couldn't let herself enjoy the view like this when he knew she was there. The way his lab coat outline the strong muscles in his back and arms. The focused, detailed and attentive look on his face.

Gil Grissom had absolutely no idea what he could do to her insides. The man could make a bug lecture hot. //Gil.\\ "Gris?" Sara could hear the question in her voice and hated it. Hated and loved that his calm assurance could make her timid like this. And eager. A muscle somewhere in Grissom's back almost flinched and Sara watched a little breathlessly as he turned toward her voice. She wanted to feel those muscles move, under her hands, against the hard edges of her nails.

"Yes, Sara," His eyes were locked on her face and now it was the muscles in her back that almost flinched. When Gil looked at her like that. "Whattaya got?"

//An urge to kiss you silly.\\ "A fuzzy picture, got a sec?" Leaning against the door jam, Sara felt her fingers curl into the wood frame to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.

"Sure, need a hand with something?"

She grinned wildly. "Both actually." //Not to mention knees, ribs and feet.//

Getting to his feet, Gil returned the smile. God, Sara loved his smiles, such rare treats. "Consider them yours."

//What she really wanted to use those hands for… stop it, CSI Sidle. Working now, speaking for the voiceless.\\ "Good, I need you to attack me." Giving him one more brilliant grin, Sara turned on one heel and walked away in silence as Gil's jaw dropped. She didn't see the flicker behind his eyes.

000

People, when asked, would describe Grissom as a meticulous man who always had a response for anything and everything. Sara Sidle, however, left him speechless with that grin and the words on her lips.

And the images that floated across the backs of his eyes. //No,\\ Shaking himself slightly Grissom got his legs working under him and followed Sara down the hall to a work. He stopped just inside the door at the sight of Sara sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bare floor. The chairs had already been pushed to the edges of the room. "Sara, did you just ask me to…" Grissom felt the look on his face and paused a second to blank it off. "What did you just say?"

There was the smile on her face again. Grissom loved and hated that smile and the things it did to his gut. "I just asked you to attack me."

Words in a truly shocking number and variety spilled through his brain. Only one made it past his lips. "Why?"

"I can't tell from the pictures whether or not the vict's wounds are consistent with being restrained."

//Well, that makes sense but…\\ "Why me? Why not Nick or Warrick. Either one fits your suspect better." //Then I wouldn't have to touch you and not…\\ Before his eyes Sara brightened and she laughed.

"Nick? I'd never hear the end of it. And I'd be asking for it, too. Warrick would behave himself a little better, but he's out in the field with Catherine." Leaning both elbows on her knees, Sara looked for all the world like a teenager or a college student. "Do I look like a masochist?"

Grissom felt his eyebrow leap on its own and a dark smile crook his lips. "You did just ask to be attacked and manhandled. Appearances can be deceiving." He loved this kind of banter. Loved to watch that sparkle in her eyes.

"And yet, you're still all the way over there and no handling has occurred." Leaning back on both hands, Sara grinned up at him. The images that paraded behind his eyes weren't new. They were treasured favorites in his mental collection. It was just that … those pictures had never been echoed quite so clearly in real life. Sara was leaning up towards him, smiling. Her hair was falling loose in the way that always begged for his hands. And Sara was asking to be touched. //I know exactly how to handle every inch of you.\\ Fighting not to see his sheets behind her, Grissom barely managed to hear her next words. "So, Gris, gonna attack me or what?"

//Sara, yes, please…\\ "Uh, yeah, sure." Weakly peeling his grip from the doorjamb, he moved to stand above her, both terrified and eager. Grissom loved to watch her brain go through its paces. But touching her… and still having to hide. //Just an experiment. Be logical and cold, Gil.\\ Sinking to his knees in front of her, he was shocked at how calm his voice managed to be. "First injury?"

"Bruising around both wrists, wider and darker on the insides of her arms." Sara held out both arms to him and his brain misfired.

It had to start near her hands, of course. Grissom had held her hand once and the memory of her fingers wound through his had haunted him for weeks. Absently, his mind tried to stay logical. "Palms to pulse points is a more common grip." He was procrastinating, Grissom realized, kneeling there just out of reach. //Just do it, Gil.\\ His fingers curved around her arms as his legs moved forward to kneel over her ankles.

"Gris?" The subdued laughter in her voice pulled his eyes to her face, which was breathlessly close to his own. "A sedated five year old couldn't be restrained like this." Sara wiggled, forcing his grip to tighten. "I could claw or knee several sensitive parts of your body right now. You're not ever trying, Grissom."

He was in way over his head, but damn, did Sara make it fascinating. "How about this?"

000

What had she gotten herself into?

"How about this?" Grissom pushed, holding her wrists down on either side of her head. His knees bracketed hers, immobilizing her legs. And for all of the tiny amount of his body touching hers … it felt like so much more.

And not enough by far. "Better," Sara could hear the extra breath behind the word, trying not to blame the real reasons, Gil's smile above her and the way his hair fell over his forehead. If his hands hadn't had her pinned, Sara would have run her fingers through that short, thick hair. Use a grip on it to pull him down closer, to set her lips against… //Stop it, Sara Sidle. Stop it right now.\\ "But can you try to rape me like this?"

"Uh,"

Sara loved it when Gil was stumped, even momentarily. She bit her lips to keep from smiling. It was only the press of her teeth into her skin that kept a harsh gasp inside when Gil moved. An ankle hooked between hers an instant before his body covered hers, touching her from chest to toes. His hips pushed between her legs, very effectively pinning her lower body to the floor.

Sara's brain was caught between racing to feel every sensation and being frozen and completely blanked. Either way there was no chance in hell of her voice working without saying completely unacceptable things. Like his first name and maybe the word "please."

Her only comfort was that Gil seemed just as startled. Like he'd woken up somewhere without knowing how he'd gotten there. But Sara knew she wanted him to stay exactly where he was. This was the stuff dreams were made of. Sara's anyway. The heat and press of Gil above her. Being close enough to smell the mix of his cologne and disinfectant soap. Sara's brain kept getting caught up in the feel of his hips between her legs, fighting not to wrap herself around him to hold him closer.

"Other injuries?"

His breath fluttered against her face and Sara didn't know if she could answer him coherently when all she really wanted to do was kiss him.

000

//Insect larvae develop in a span of time that is… disproportionate to their adult weight. Beetles can run upwards of one to two hundred miles an hour.\\ Gil Grissom tried to recall every little fact that had earned him the name "Bug man." Anything to get his mind and body's attention off of the body beneath his.

Sara Sidle. //No,\\ Thinking about the fascinating body under his being Sara was bad. It only strengthened the responses he was trying to fight off. Knowing it was Sara's pulse racing against his palms only made his own pulse that much harder to slow. And if he didn't get his body back under control, one of his responses would be extremely easy for her to notice, pressed against her so tightly.

Hardest to ignore was the sight of her teeth digging into her lower lip. Lips he'd dreamt of kissing.

Bugs weren't working. All those baseball stats wouldn't either. Back to the case. "Other injuries?"

He was proud of himself for how normal his voice sounded when all her really wanted was to growl her name and lose himself in her kiss. Watching Sara's eyes refocus made him realize they hadn't been before. She might be having the same difficulty in concentrating that he was… //No, Grissom, get to work.\\

She cleared her throat. "Bite mark, four inches below the left collarbone." //So much for a benevolent God.\\ Closing his eyes so she couldn't read him, Grissom shifted against her, keeping her pinned as he moved lower. The scent of her perfume enticed him as he let his lips over near the top curve of her breast. //God, Sara…\\ Grissom tried to resist, but when would he ever have a chance like this again. Knowing he shouldn't, Grissom dipped his head to rest lips and chin lightly against the cotton-covered curve. Sara drew in a sharp breath under him, lifting harder against him. What Gil wouldn't give to act freely in this situation. To bury his face against the soft warmth of her skin, run lips and tongue over her every sensitive nerve. Make her breath hitch around his name.

//Gil Grissom, you are not going there, ever.\\ But his body wasn't listening to his brain anymore. Granted, part of that could be that his blood wasn't reaching it anymore. He had to get away from Sara now, or she was going to know exactly what this was doing to him. And the look Grissom would see on Sara's face. He couldn't stand it. But he couldn't run either. She would know why.

"It's consistent with restraint."

Even not able to look at her face, Grissom felt her nod in agreement. "Bruising, round patch inside the right knee."

//Thank you,\\ Shifting his hips further from hers, he pushed her knees open wider with one of his. Closing his eyes, Grissom fought for a calm voice. "It's consistent."

Sara was strangely still beneath him, her breath fluttering against his face and her pulse racing alongside his. Her next words set his pulse speeding even faster for more reasons than one. "She said he kept trying to kiss her. Left beard burn on her face and neck."

What had he done to deserve being tortured like this? There was no way he could put his mouth anywhere near her face without pressing his hips back against hers.

And then his world would crash down around his feet in sharp, sparkly shards. //I'm sorry, Sara.\\

000

Nobody had felt this good to Sara in years. Maybe forever. And Gil probably didn't have a clue what he was doing to her. His body blanketed hers, melting and searing all her nerves. The way he looked bending his head to her chest was burned into her memory, fuel for her fantasies. It took every ounce of self-control Sara had to not wrap her leg around him when his knees widened hers even as she mourned the extra space between their hips.

Some part of Sara's brain must have still been working, even just subconsciously. And she knew it when she heard the next words leave her lips. The beard-stubble burns. Gil would have to press his body back between her thighs and put his lips so breathtakingly close to her own to test the injury. And while his arms strong above her and his heat surrounding her made her breath catch, the thought of his kiss made her bones melt.

Sara felt Grissom freeze, felt herself go motionless under him. A small quiet part of her chanted the word "please" until Gil moved. Then the part of her begging wasn't small or quiet, it was screaming along all her nerves. She could feel him, his breath against her cheek, his hips almost close enough.

"It's consistent, Sara."

It was only as Gil bit his lip and tried to pull back that she felt it. //What the …\\ Her hands were still pinned, but one leg was free. And as long as she could move a single muscle, Sara couldn't let him leave her now. "Gil,"

The sound of his name, or maybe it was the tight grip of her leg around his hips, made him stop short. Muscles in his back flinched, pressing his hips tighter into hers. Gil Grissom was lying above her with shock on his face and need in his body. Sara had never felt better in her life. "Sara," He released her wrists, trying to push back against the curve of her knee. "I should…"

"No, Gil," Touching both hands to his face, Sara made him meet her eyes. "Is this…" Her legs tightened around him, her eyes fluttering and watching his do the same. "For me? Because of me?"

She could see the denial trying to crawl onto his face, but it didn't even make a dent in the need written in every line of him. Gil wanted her. "Sara, we… I…"

Curving a hand around the back of his neck, Sara pulled him closer. "Gil, please tell me. It's more than just this." Another reflexive tightening of her legs pressed him closer, driving a breathless groan from two bodies.

Gil finally reacted. A warm hand curved around the line of her jaw and his forehead touched hers. "God, Sara, how could you think otherwise even for a second."

"Gil," He was going to melt her into the floorboards with the look on his face. And she would love every second of it. It only took an inch off the floor for her lips to find his. If the thought of Gil kissing her had liquefied her bones, the reality of it shattered the universe into sharp, sparkly little bits.

Attentive, focused and detailed, just like she'd imagined he would be. Gil explored every millimeter of her lips with his before pulling back with a concerned expression. "Are you sure, Sara?"

"Gil, could you possibly not know how long I've wanted this?" Sara bit her lips, threading her hands into his hair to pull him closer. "How long I've needed you…"

The smile that crept onto his lips sent a shiver down her back. Gil had never smiled at her with such sexual heat before. And as his head lowered to touch her lips to hers, Sara lost herself in his low groan of her name.

And then she lost herself in the taste of his kiss.

000

Sara Sidle wanted him, had her legs wrapped tight around his body, asking him if it was more than physical. //Sara,\\ He touched her, Gil had to, needed to. Sliding a hand into the heat of her hair, Gil pulled her closer, letting everything he'd ever tried to hide from her into his face. He couldn't let her think for an instant that he wanted her with anything less than every fiber of his being. "God, Sara. How could you think otherwise, even for a second."

"Gil," God, he loved that sound, and her lips touching his only made it sweeter. Sara Sidle was kissing him and it was perfect. The warm press of her lips finally moving against his was heavenly. And real? "Are you sure, Sara?"

She smiled and his heart sped up even more. "Gil, could you possibly not know how long I've wanted this?" The smile faded as Sara's eyes flicked to his lips and her hands clenched in his hair. "How long I've needed you."

It was real, Sara wanted him, needed him and it was just another of his late night dreams. "Sara," Gil pulled her tighter against his chest and parted her lips under his own. She tasted so sweet and felt so good in his arms. But Sara still wasn't close enough. Cupping her head in one hand and bracing the other in the small of her back, Gil sat back on his heels and lifted Sara across his lap.

"Gil," Her smile down at him made his breath catch an instant before Sara stopped his breathing all together. Every inch of her body moved deliberately flush against his own. Her arms tightened around his neck as his hands fell to the curve of her hips, pressing her hard over him. "You feel so…" Watching her eyes flutter and her neck arch sent a jolt of pride through him. Gil could do this to her. A high school ghost, middle-aged bug man could make her breathless and trembling in his arms. "So perfect, so right."

Sara was perfect and finally, finally his. "God, Sara, please." Threading both hands into her hair, Gil helplessly dragged her lips to his, losing himself in the urgency of her mouth exploring his, of her nails pressing into his neck. Evidence, hard evidence that Sara wanted him, needed him was painted all over both of them. It was mind-blowing, but Gil needed more. He needed to mark her. Nibbling gently on her lower lip, Gil sent his hands under the edge of her white lab coat, gliding them up her legs to slip against the curve of her waist. She was so warm but something was still in the way. Fumbling past the cotton, his fingertips dragged over the soft heat of her skin.

"Gil,"

God, he did that to her. Only his hands on her skin had her neck arching and her voice calling out his name. "You are so beautiful, Sara." His lips found the line of her throat, counting the speed of her heart with the tip of his tongue. She tasted so good, he had to fight back the urge to leave the imprint of his teeth in her skin, to stamp himself on her body. Pressing her tighter against his chest with his hands on her ribs, Gil compromised with his inner caveman, sucking a small but clear hickey well above the edge of her collar. "Sweet Sara,"

"Gil, please." Rocking her hips against his, Sara arched in his arms, exposing more of her delectable skin to his lips. A groan escaped him as he lowered his head, nipping gently at the line of her throat. She was so… responsive, gasping and squeezing her legs around his hips. "Gil, you're buzzing."

"You make my head spin, Sara. Always have." Leaning up, Gil reached for her lips with his only to be stopped short by her hand on his chest and a soft smile.

"Thanks, Gil, but I meant your pager."

Now he could hear it, that high pitched beeping he'd been ignoring. Ducking his head, Gil watched Sara's hands stroke down his chest to snag the annoying pager off his belt. "Greg. He needs you in DNA."

He would give anything to not have to let her go right now. "Sara…"

"Go talk to Greg, then meet me at your place." Her arms curled around his neck, bringing her lips distractingly close to his own. "And if you're not there in twenty minutes, I'm coming back and putting the nearest desk to a very unprofessional use." Before he got his brain past the image of her on his desk enough to speak, Sara dropped a short but deep kiss on his lips "I'm not giving you the time to run from this. I need you too much."

//Like I could.\\ "Sara," Hands tightened on their own, crushing her against his chest as his mouth invaded hers, trying to show her with only a kiss just how much he needed her. Breathing unevenly, Gil made her meet his eyes. "I am not running, Sara, not ever."

She trembled, her eyes fluttering as she touched her forehead to his, relief painted over her face. "I'll hold you to that, Gil. But go now. Greg'll look for you when you don't answer your pager."

He had to let go of her. Gil knew that, even if the idea was painful to nerves all over his body. "I think he'll be just as shocked if I go to DNA with you wrapped around my waist like this."

"Fun as that would be…" Sara smiled, uncurling her arms from his neck. "We'd give poor Greggo a heart attack." Bracing both hands on his shoulders, she pressed closer one more time before standing up in front of him. Looking down at him, Sara bit her lip and fisted her hands. It was simply astonishing what Sara was doing to him. And what he could apparently do to her. With graying hair and more extra pounds and years than he'd care to admit to, and Sara, young, beautiful Sara, was staring down at him with unmitigated heat in her face for him.

Reaching into his pocket, Gil managed to stand without dragging Sara back into his arms again. "Twenty minutes," He knew his fingers lingered against her skin as he handed her his house keys. "I'll hurry." Gil turned sharply and walked out the door. Her voice behind him almost stopped him out in the hallway. "You better, Gil. I'm tired of being patient." With a great deal of effort, Gil only straightened his back and kept walking. //Nineteen minutes and counting.\\

000