Title: A Perfect Match

Author: Ann

Disclaimer: CSI isn't mine.

Summary: If you asked for a sequel, here it is! If you didn't, here it is anyway! This is a response to the Unbound challenge. First and last lines are given. I didn't stay under 1,000 words(can I stop saying this now?). This is a sequel to my entry for last week, Matchmaker. Reviews are welcome and very appreciated.

XxXxXxXx I thought about pulling the gratuitous sex scene in order to make the word limit, but I decided "what the hell...I've never made it before!". Kidding, kidding. It is rated R for mild sex, though.

XxXxXxXx Big thanks to Mossley for the beta. And obligatory pestering and harassing. I'd like to thank LK on that note, also. Why do I warrant such cruelty? Sniffle. Any mistakes left are mine. All mine. You can't blame Mossley if it sucks.

"Quit picking at it!" Sara shouted as she made her way back into the small room to find Grissom starting without her.

"It's not coming," he grunted.

"You have to get it hard first," she reminded him, grabbing the offending item and working it with her own hands.

When he hummed amusedly, she met his eyes and glared at his playful expression. "Shut up. We're doing laundry."

"You said it."

"And you misinterpreted it. Shouldn't have answered that page earlier...," she teased, wondering exactly how far they would have gone if they hadn't been interrupted. "I can't believe you were going to throw this shirt out."

Changing the subject would be good. Back to work.

"It has chewing gum on it," he droned, as if he had chosen the obvious solution.

"Do you throw away everything that requires a little work?"

Trick question alert!

He shrugged a shoulder and raised an eyebrow, knowingly. "Not anymore. I'm learning my lesson."

"Good answer."

Grissom watched as she held the small baggie of ice cubes against the blob of sticky pink gum. The scientist in him was very interested in exactly how she was going to extract the gum from his shirt. But the man in him shoved that curiosity to the side as his eyes began roaming her body. "Can't we, uh, do this later?" he asked, huskily.

"Uh-uh," she responded negatively, turning to fidget with some solution and the butter knife she had brought in with her. "This can't stand to set much longer. I think I'm getting it," she said excitedly, scraping gently at the tacky goo. "Are you watching?"

"Most definitely."

Grissom felt guilty for eyeing her so unabashedly. Was she really that unaware of where his mind was right now? Was it that easy for her to forget the feel of their tangled limbs, the taste of the other's flesh, the anticipation of knowing that they were so close...?

Yet so far away.

He sighed, willing his "excitement" to cease. His hunger for her was growing ten-fold by the second. She had changed into a baggy shirt and shorts, he noticed, briefly wondering when she had done that. Thoughts of her changing morphed into thoughts of her naked. And what he would do with her naked...

Damn his resolve. He was losing control quickly.

"How did you get gum on here, anyway?"

"Oh, we initially couldn't get a warrant for the Morrison kid's DNA, so I got creative. I had to pick it out of the grass and was working with a pretty high contamination factor," he answered nonchalantly, not noticing her turning to look at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "But, he ended up relenting later. I forgot to dispose of my efforts. I thought I had it wrapped up pretty tightly."

"Grissom! Eww!" Holding the shirt with two fingers, she tossed it in his direction, quickly ridding the bit of residue from her fingers. Her mock-evil glare prompted his chuckling.

"Hey, I wanted to throw it out!" he defended.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't want to hear it. Here," she immediately shoved the bottle of solvent into his hands, backing away from the DNA-laden shirt just as quickly. "Put this on there, and rub furiously."

He did as he was told, slowing down only when she bent to throw a pile of wet clothes in the dryer and flipping it on.

Oh Lord. Here we go again.

He couldn't quite understand how he had spent nearly 50 years keeping his libido in check, but it only took a few agile moves from the likes of Sara Sidle to get him all stirred up.

Out the corner of her eye, Sara saw the stained shirt being flung to the top of the dryer. Before she could stand completely upright, she felt two strong arms wrap securely around her waist. She let out an odd mixture of a shriek and a giggle, gripping his hands where they laced at her belly.

"I don't want to do this anymore," he whispered breathlessly, fanning her neck with sweet warmth on every exhale.

Oh, no he wasn't. There was no way she was letting him hand over the rights to the first move. If he wanted to progress this further, then he'd better say so. Or do so. She wasn't going drag him into her bedroom like some seductress just to have it bite her in the ass later. She'd be the bait, but he would be the one doing the luring.

"What do you want to do then?" she asked sexily, spinning around in his grasp to face him.

"What do you want to do?"

Ugh. Do they ever learn?

"Laundry." She plastered on an enormous fake smile, wiggled her way out of his arms, and headed towards the door.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"I've got some more dirty clothes in the hamper," she stated, pointing towards the bathroom with her thumb.

He raised a brow, eyeing her suspiciously. Something fishy was definitely going on. When he saw the teasing gleam hidden in her stare, he caught on.

Sara was caught off guard when his mouth slammed into hers, but it only took a moment for her to gather her bearings and follow his lead. She wasn't sure they were headed in the right direction, however, when she felt her back pressed flush against the trembling dryer. As tempting as it was to guide him to the nearest bed, she stayed strong, reminding herself that this was his show now.

Grissom's hands were everywhere at once, strong, but gentle...asking, yet commanding. She was acutely aware that he hadn't touched her where she ached for him most. Her nipples throbbed and her legs instinctively closed, attempting to diminish the strong need pulsating through her. If one could die of pleasure, she was sure she was a candidate. The warm metal vibrated against her back while his hips were pinned against hers, leaving very little of the extent of his arousal to the imagination.

"Is that a sock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" she purred factitiously, tugging at his waist as if she could pull him closer.

"If I said they were matching socks, would that beguile you?"

"Nope. I'd know you were lying!"

Her smile was swallowed by another kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth sensuously, licking, tasting, giving and taking from her. She gave up all pretense of control when he lifted her to the machine's surface and pulled her knees apart, sliding his body between them.

"Bedroom," he muttered against her skin. Holding her bottom securely, he pulled until she slid off of the machine, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist. Upon reaching the sparsely decorated room, he laid her gently on the mattress, crawling over her just as she squirmed out of her shirt and tugged him to her bare chest.

"I'm getting DNA on you," he reminded as he licked from her breasts to her neck, pausing to savor the flesh along her jaw line.

"How romantic," she huffed teasingly, before seeking out his mouth again.

Pulling back before their lips could unite, he cornered her with a serious expression. "I love you."

Deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt was supposed to provide her enough of a distraction to quell the onslaught of tears that were welling in her eyes. She was not a sap, dammit.

Oh, who was she kidding?

"We can pretend I didn't say that," he whispered soothingly, fearful of her reaction.

"You wish." She sniffled lightly, helping him remove his shirt and running her palms along his strong chest. "I love you, too."

God, that sounded good.

She experimented, telling him she loved him in different tones and inflections as he continued undressing and caressing her. She breathed it into his hair, whimpered it against his shoulder, and screamed it –along with his name—as his fingers brought her to her first climax.

It wasn't until he entered her that Grissom repeated it again, complimenting his words with his tender movements. His body was finally loving her the way his heart had for years. And for the first time, he knew what it felt like to be completed by another human being.

He increased his pace only when she began thrusting wildly beneath him, eager to again experience relief from the sweet ache flooding her body. With vigor he wasn't accustomed to, he moved within her until she clenched around him, prompting his own guttural moan and passionate release.

They lay entangled, spent, and content, neither one having the energy or the will to move.

"Are you all right?" she asked, knowing from the hot breaths upon her neck and the rapid pulse of his throat against her lips, that he wasn't yet asleep.

"Mmm, yes. I'm tired," he mumbled, moving up her face to plant soft kisses on her cheeks.

"Next time you want to sleep with me, just ask."