Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, but I do have the Season 6 DVDs on pre-order.
A/N: This is my first FanFic; it's very fluffy. Thanks to Nightblight for the Beta. You're the best!
BLAME
He blamed her, of course. "You screamed."
"I did not scream," Sara replied heatedly. She was on her back looking at him.
"OK, you didn't scream; you shrieked." He was on his side, one hand propping his head up.
"Grissom, I did not…" He gave her the eyebrow with attitude. "OK, I shrieked," she admitted as he began running a finger, slowly, from her shoulder to her wrist and back up again. "But you startled me when you grabbed me." His finger moved from her shoulder to trace her collarbone.
"Well, I was a little surprised at your announcement." His finger had found the hollow at the base of her throat and lightly stroked her there.
"I didn't make an announcement," she huffed, trying to remain unaffected by the butterfly light touch of his finger against her skin. As if.
"Your revelation, then," he amended. His finger slid lightly down her chest between her breasts, over her belly button and back up to trail around the curve of her breast.
"Hello? May I see some ID, please? Are you not Dr. Gilbert Grissom, master of the cryptic statement and hidden meaning? All this time, all of the double entendres and inside jokes you've thrown my way, have I ever reacted in such a way as to let the cat out of the bag? No, wait…" she pretended to count on her fingers, "one, two, three cats out of the bag. Or would each cat have their own bag? At any rate, Dr. Grissom, the felines have well and truly been released from their containment devices and as much as you'd like to blame me," she shivered as his thumb brushed across her nipple, "you are very much at fault."
"Mmm, well, I don't believe I've ever thrown quite a loaded hidden message out to you, though. But, I will admit, I did, uh, react." He leaned in and ran his tongue over the hollow his finger had recently vacated, one hand still caressing her breast. "Catherine is going to be pissed." He kissed his way across her collarbone to the curve of her shoulder. "As a matter of fact, I'm surprised we haven't…" his statement was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. Reaching over to retrieve it from the nightstand, he looked at the caller ID and smirked. "Speak of the devil." He tossed the phone back on the nightstand without answering and began a thorough attack of Sara's neck with the occasional foray to nip at and suck on her earlobe.
Moments later Sara's cell phone began ringing. He sighed as she scooted over to her bedside table to check. "Catherine," she confirmed.
"Don't answer."
"No kidding," she countered in a sarcastic tone, which was wholly at odds with the sensual movement that took her back into his arms. Lips assaulted lips and his hands weren't the only ones doing the exploring anymore.
The house phone began to ring. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. "You've reached the Grissom residence. Please leave a message."
"Grissom, It's Catherine…" She did sound pissed.
Sara couldn't help it, she started to laugh as the older woman's strident tone filled the air.
"So, the story goes Greg uses some obscure phrase and you use it as one of your famous teachable moments and you begin to explain the origin of the phrase."
Grissom sighed and rested his forehead against Sara's.
The disembodied voice continued, "Now here's the part where the story really gets interesting. While you're explaining obscure turns of phrase, Sara asks you to explain the origin of the phrase 'knocked up.' According to my sources…"
"Greg," Sara snorted.
Catherine's voice spiraled up with irritation as she continued, "You hesitate, just a little, and then explain that its origins are uncertain but it refers to a woman being pregnant without benefit of marriage. At which time, CSI Sidle asks what you call it with benefit of marriage and you, Gil Grissom, the patron saint of personal space, suddenly have her in your arms, lifting her up and swinging her around." There was a slight pause. "Greg said she screamed"
"I did not scream," Sara said to no one in particular, but with an air of someone who did not expect to be believed.
"And that caused Warrick and Nick to come running which caused the two of you to disappear for the rest of shift without explanation." Catherine's ire did not appear to be diminishing as she reached the end of her story.
Another pause; Grissom was fairly sure he heard ice clinking.
This was a screwdriver assisted rant.
"So, Gilbert, mentor, supervisor, friend of over a decade, have you neglected to tell me something?" A weighted sigh could be heard on the other end of the line. "Maybe three somethings? Like you and Sara are involved."
Sara held up her index finger.
"Oh, how about you and Sara are married?"
Sara held up a second finger.
"I swore after Warrick, if I had another friend run off and get married on the sly I was going to kick their ass. So, now I have to kick two friends' asses…but, no, wait, I can't kick Sara's ass because, evidently, the third thing you've neglected to tell me is she's pregnant." Catherine's voice oozed exasperation.
Sara held up a third finger, "Three cats out of three bags. Great job, Babe!"
"Be fair," he whined. "It's not like I've had a lot of practice keeping the pregnancy thing a secret."
Another clink of the ice. "So, I guess I'll just kick your ass twice, instead."
Sara smirked at her husband.
The timbre of Catherine's voice changed from angry to business like. "Here's the deal… I expect a formal announcement to the entire team, tonight. You will take everyone out for breakfast tomorrow. A wedding reception type party would be nice, but I know that's more than I can hope for from the two of you. So, instead of that, at the appropriate time, Sara will graciously submit to a baby shower no matter how uncomfortable she is at being the center of attention and indulging in mindless traditions."
Grissom eyed Sara and she shrugged an acceptance.
Catherine's voice was now softer. "I am, by the way, very happy for both of you, on all three counts. Everyone will be. I'll see you tonight."
"Well," Sara moved against him, nuzzling his neck, "that wasn't too bad."
"No," thick hands stroked her back, his warm palms moving downward and cupping her bottom. He pulled her closer to him, "it wasn't bad at all." He closed his eyes and breathed her in, savoring her unique scent and the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. He was deeply aroused, a fact easily confirmed by the hardness pressing into her still flat stomach. "What else did the doctor say?"
"Hmm?" It was getting difficult to concentrate. "Oh, he said that my husband must be exceedingly virile to get the job done less than a month after abandoning birth control."
He snorted into her shoulder and began moving up the column of her neck with the tip of his tongue.
"And that since our time will be limited after the baby arrives, I should probably have as much as sex as possible while I can."
He rolled her over and pressed her into the mattress with his body. "As long as it's clear that I'm following your doctor's orders."
She gave him her mega watt smile; the one that never failed to make his stomach jump.
"Sara," his voice was soft, "I never in my life thought I'd be here… married to the only woman I have ever truly loved, with a baby on the way. I'm happier than I ever thought possible and I just want you to know… I blame you, completely."