Disclaimer: Gilbert Grissom and Sara Sidle are two fictional characters that belong to CBS and other entities. The quotation belong to the most remarkable writer ever; Shakespeare. My imagination belongs to me and my crazy muse, though.
A/N: This one goes to my friend DT, who faithfully tells me that I should stop hurting people by writing. I love you and your reversed psychology sister, it works pretty well for a stubborn like me;p
A/N2 : Deep gratitude for SylvieT who had helped me revisited this story and fixed the errors. Without her and her constant encouragement this story wouldn't be as readable as it is today:)
=== LOVE MODERATELY===
The sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, and in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so.
(Romeo and Juliet, II, vi)
Grissom
I always fall for beautiful women with a high fashion sense. The high heels, the earrings and the clutch bag. The well fitting silk blouse and the knee-length skirt. The hip-hugging pants and the well-filled tank top. An elegant cocktail gown with a string of pearls on top. Or for a particular occasion, designer jeans and leather coat to accompany a halter neck. I'm a man of detail, after all.
The blonder the woman the better. The one who has smooth hair; either wavy or straight, is always a plus for me. I love to run my fingers between the golden locks while contemplating the difference between the color of my skin and the blondness of the hair. I love the smell of flowers, or fruits, or vanilla, or herbal in my woman hair. To snuggle my nose against the lady's head and sink myself into the scent are always heaven.
Then, comes the elegant night festivity. When I open the passenger door for her in front of the most expensive restaurant I can afford, we will be greeted familiarly by the concierge and seated to a table with the best view. I'll ask for a bottle of wine, the best food in town, and delicious dessert. In the end, a fireplace, a plush carpet, and conversation that lead to the most intimate act are my favorite closure.
"Damnit." Sara swats the flies flying around her head with a piece of cardboard. I chuckle at the vision. Throughout our trip, the cardboard has been a fan, a flies-swatter, a shade, and a mat. It is very useful for such an insignificant thing.
"Here, hand me the monkey, I'll carry him so you can swat the flies mmm rather freely," I can't stop the mocking smile from rising on my face. I hold out my hands to reach the object in Sara's arm. It is a spider monkey, a spider monkey infant at that. Its fur is a blend of light copper and orange and its hands loop around Sara's arm. I envy the monkey; it would be nice to loop my hands around her in such a clammy afternoon.
Sara had found the poor monkey wounded in the forest floor. She had brought him to the base camp, had taken care of him for weeks, and has been attached to it like it is her own pet. Now she is ready to release the long-tailed creature to its habitat. I have been accompanying her trekking the mountainside for more than three hours now. Our destination is the West side of mountaintop where the Spiders Monkey flocks often show themselves. One of the researchers in the camp told Sara that the monkey population has been decreasing significantly over the years and that its best chance to survive is around the adults. So, she makes it a big fuss to save the infant and I, being under her spell, support her with all my might.
"No, I'm fine," she swats again and almost loses her hold of the baby monkey. When she moves to tighten her grip, she loses her footing on the rocky forest floor. "Whoops," I catch her right before she falls but the monkey slips out of her hands.
"Henry!" she calls in panic; leave it to Sara to name her pet after a man's name. She calls one of my framed butterflies Jackson no matter how often I told her that it's a female Euphaedra zampa.
Now healthy and full of stamina, Henry makes his way towards the trees. "Gil! Catch him!" The woman in my arms spins out of my embrace and reaches for the monkey. Henry is smarter though. He jumps backward and tries to run again but not before I get a hold of his tail.
"Where do you think you're going, Mister?" I pull the tail lightly and he jumps to my arm. Sara immediately wraps her fingers around the furry animal.
"Don't you ever do that again Henry," She holds Henry close to her chest. "We don't know what animals live here. Wait until we bring you to your family okay?" Her coos are a mix of worry and love. My love to her multiplies just by hearing the sound of her affection toward the lucky monkey.
Rustles of leaves and squeaking sounds in the background make me look up to the trees. When I find the sources of such noises, I tap Sara's shoulder.
"Maybe his family is already here." I gesture at the trees on our left side. Several monkeys resemble Henry in fur colors and the length of their tails, peeking from above the branches. The colors of the dawn disguise some of them, but I can tell there are many of them.
"Wow," She looks up in amazement, "There are at least ten of them."
"Uh huh, ready to let go your lover boy." I tease her. I know there's no competition at all, but somehow between Sara tucking the monkey to sleep and feeding him my breakfast, I get jealous.
She rises her eyebrow at me while putting Henry down. Once his feet touch the ground, the primate runs to climb a tree. His tail sways in the same rhythm with his body as Henry reaches from branch to branch.
"No thank you, no teary eyes, he surely loves you," I tease her again but bite back my tongue when I see her face. There is a mixture of sadness and happiness in her eyes along with a layer of tears that make the brown orbs glassy. I move to her side, wrap my arm around her shoulder.
"He's happy Sara, he's with his family." I thumb a single tear drop away from the corner of her eye.
"I know," she whispers and leans back against me.
I look down to observe Sara as she watches Henry following the older spider monkeys to the depth of the Costa Rican jungle. Her brown shirt is soaked with perspiration and her cargo pants are dirty and wrinkled. Dust and sweat glue her hair together in sticky strands. It's not the most beautiful image of a woman I have ever seen and although it's cliché and almost impossible, the lack of attractiveness in Sara now attracts me to her more than ever. I've lived long enough to know that a woman with compassion and love toward others as much as Sara's is rare in this world. I'm a very lucky man to have her with me.
"I love you," I whisper to her because I really do. She might not be a beautiful blonde and I know she's never that in for the latest fashion (Not that you can find a decent boutique and beauty house in this jungle). Our dinner might be nothing but bread, peas, and canned corn. We might make love in a rusty tent with uncomfortable humid air around us. We're together, that's all that matters. Even if sometimes I still peek upon my glasses when Janet, 's sexy-as-hell blonde assistant, passes in front of me. My heart is solely reserved for Sara; only Sara.
Smiling broadly she turns to face me, "What brings that up?"
I shrug and tug her closer, it smells funny when I snuggle my nose against her hair. "Come on, we need to take a bath." I take her hand in mine and start making my way down the slope. "I love you so much," I whisper again as we walk hand in hand.
Sara
I know I'm not half as experienced as Lady Heather in the battlefield of sexual intimacy. Neither had I met as many men as the dominatrix. However, I had my time too. I'm thirty six and I can proudly say that I've tasted almost every candy available, if you know what I mean.
My first time in high school and my one time experience with Kenny fuller are out of the chart. As I always say to those who ask, they're overrated. However there were these restless years when I ignored my sanity and simply lived to have fun. Those years were the first time when I felt like I really belonged to a group. We were eight geeky people who shared the same interest in Quantum Physics and String Theory. Three girls and five guys literally drowned themselves in the sea of science.
Somewhere between the frequent seminars we attended and the constant discussion from dorm room to dorm room I ended up scoring with each man on our group. Two of them were conservative to say the least; clothes off, got to the bed (or to the couch, or to the floor), and clothes on. The other three however, taught me things I never knew exist. Positions to be tried, body parts to be devoured, techniques to be explored, and paraphernalia to be used. Since those very years I never again underestimate the ability of a geeky guy to satisfy me. We, women, should not judge the book by its cover, especially when the book is about to tell us how to reach multiple orgasms.
Then there was Hank; his cover matched his inside through and through. His built was an advantage in our sexual life. Our so called relationship might have ended shortly and painfully, but he had shown me better strength and stamina than other men had shown me before.
"Damnit," Grissom kicks the flat tire in frustration. As if to protest the violence of the blow, the poor tire exhales its last content of air out. I chuckle and step out of the jeep as it tilts to one side.
"Patience Dr. Grissom," Dr. Philip doesn't bother to hide his smirk as he also steps out the jeep. "Alfredo, help Dr. Grissom change the tire please. I and this beautiful lady are too fragile to do such task," His wrinkled but soft hand meets mine as he tugs me to sit down under one of the tree.
The air seems fresher under the shade of leaves; the greenery does a good job of protecting us from the heat of the sun. It is twenty past two and the wetness of Grissom's shirt tells me it's hot out there. I can hear Alfredo telling Grissom something about tire iron and I also hear Dr. Philip muttering something about ants. I'm too engrossed on watching the love of my life though. His arms and torso move in synchronicity as he unscrews the spare tire from the back of the jeep. I can't help gulping down and starting arranging a plan for our night time activity.
"Solenopsis Invicta."
"Uh," I jerk my head to my left side, looking at the Environmental biologist beside me.
"Red imported fire ant," Dr. Philip gestures to the flocks of ants on a mound of soil mere feet away from us. "Their sting is painful and persistent and can cause pustules on your skin."
"Really?" I shift further from the mound and retract my previously stretched feet.
Dr. Philip smiles at my reaction. He stands up shakily with the support of his cane and comes closer to inspect the mound. "Yep, definitely the mound of Solenopsis Invicta. There are reports of these guys showing in California."
"I'll tell Grissom to cancel our plan to move to California then." I cringe, I really hate ants. "Is there a report of these guys showing in Alaska?"
Dr. Philip lets out a hearty laugh. "No, there isn't. I don't think you want to move to Alaska though, it's very cold there." He comes to sit beside me, resting his head back on the tree trunk. "So, you and Dr. Grissom really want to leave Costa Rica?"
It feels weird to confess this to the head researcher of our team. He is like my Grandpa or something being almost thirty years older and all. However he has asked and I feel I'm obligated to answer. "Yes, We will come back to the U.S after the team has done the research here." I look down to the mound where several ants are working together to lift up a cricket. "We want to start a family."
"Hope." He closes his eyelids. "Both of you make me think that there's hope."
I stay silent because I don't really get what he meant.
"A young, beautiful, and smart lady like you want to start a family with an …, I'm sorry." He feigns a cough, "older and quirkier Entomologist. It makes me think there's still a chance that the better half of me is out there, waiting for me."
Knowing that he had lost his wife fourteen years ago I give him a small nod. "There's always hope Doctor."
"For you and me?" he tilts his head to one side and I frown. Did he just throw me a line? Under a tree? In the middle of the jungle somewhere in Costa Rica? God, help me.
He laughs and his gray haired head shakes with the sound. "I was only joking Sara. I can't compete with Dr. Grissom's enormous collection of bugs. I don't think this decaying body can warm you up at night anyway." he lays his palm on his chest.
My facial expression tears between smiling and frowning at his odd sense of humor.
"How much older is he?" Dr. Philip's wrinkled forehead wrinkle some more in the wake of his eyebrows. "I don't mean to be fussy. It's just I'm planning on hitting on Esmeralda and I need as many references as I can get in the field of lover with significant age differences."
I laugh at his remark; Esmeralda is the cook's wife in our research station in town. She is a funny woman and has been the subject of playful flirtation from almost every male member of the team.
"Fifteen. Grissom is fifteen years older." I smile to the subject of my sentence. Grissom is walking toward us. The tire iron in his hand, the remarkable hat, and the sweat soaking shirt make him look like such a poor imitation of Indiana Jones.
"So, does the difference make any difference?" Dr. Philip stands up and holds out a hand to help me.
I shake my head and I stand with his help. "No, I don't think so. Even if there's any I'm too much in love to be bothered by it." I give Dr. Philip a broad smile as I reach out for Grissom's hand.
It's true. I'm too much in love to be bothered by any difference. The difference may be noticeable when we lay together, tangled on top of the mattress inside our tent. His breathing, slow and deep, again my rapid exhales. His prick softens against my thighs because he has come first like several times before. It doesn't matter at all, because his chest is warm against my back as he fingers my cleft. His hand is strong on top of my smaller hand as we squeeze my breast. He might not last an hour and he might not be that in to handcuffs, silk binds whips (where do you suppose to find such things in this jungle anyway) but he is determined to pleasure me, to love me, and to make sure I fly over the edge. Even if my flight often takes off long after him. His age and stamina be damned, Grissom is the only man I need.
"I love you," I give his thigh a light squeeze as we follow Dr. Philip to the jeep.
"Hmm mmh." Grissom puts his hand on the small of my back. "Is someone about to get lucky tonight?"
A wink and a maybe are the only answer I give him.
"Doctors, Miss Sidle, I'm so sorry." Alfredo, who has turned the engine on, looks up to us in horror from behind the wheel. "I think the gas tank is leaking, we're run out of Gasoline." As if to confirm Alfredo's statement the engine halts, coughs, and stops.
"I guess we're about to walk the ten miles to the camp then." Dr. Philip slings his backpack over his shoulder and start striding down the path.
"Alfredo, helps Dr. Grissom with the equipment boxes please." He throws a look to the wooden boxes full of our food supplies and research equipment.
"Yes sir." Alfredo starts lifting a box while Grissom groans and whines beside me.
"Come on now, don't be such a baby." I pat Grissom's back. "I'll help you with the boxes."
"That's not the main problem Sara," He cringes, "If I have to walk and lift for another mile, I will be too tired for tonight." He glances down to his crotch and I chuckle. My poor entomologist.
"Sara, walk with me please, this slope is too slippery for an old man." Dr. Philip beckons for me with his cane. Grissom rolls his eyes and I chuckle some more.
"Okay Doctor." I lift the smallest box and take a step forward; leaving a frowning Grissom in my wake.
Blowing him a kiss, I turn back and whisper "I love you so much, you know. Don't let the boxes wear you out, save a little something for me"
He purses his lips, adorably.
FIN
Once I read the quote, the idea for this popped into my mind. I know my cheesy piece didn't worth the quote. However insignificant, I hope you find this enjoyable. Thanks for reading and I leave the door open for your critic or review:)