A/N: Okay, so I miss him and I want him back and since he won't come back well, then this is what I'm reduced to doing. It's short, it's not even that good but hey, it's therapeutic and just what the doctor ordered. Well, actually I'm self-medicating. It's fluffy, with a little smut. I guess it's a little naughty too. I know, I know, still, desperate times call for desperate measures.

I hope you enjoy.

A/N 2: Oh, and Robynne, you were right. What can I say? I'm an addict. Aren't we all?

Amazing Ray.

The ring of the telephone startled him awake. He lifted his head off the pillow and peered blurrily at the digital clock on the bedside table. 12.35 am, it read. He blinked a few times and let out a long breath. Two years out of the job had gotten him out of the habit of being woken up in the middle of the night. The phone rang again and he carefully eased his arm out from under Sara. Propping himself up on his elbow he reached across the bed quickly picking up the phone before it woke his wife. She had a smile on her face and he watched as she let out a soft, sleepy breath, gently burying herself deeper into the mattress. A dreamy smile instinctively formed on his lips as he brought the receiver to his ear.

"Allo?" he mumbled the standard French reply dazedly into the phone.

There was a pause at the other end. Long distance call, he thought.

Rubbing his eyes he sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "Allo?"

"I'm sorry," a tired-sounding voice said at last. "I-I-Somehow I must have dialled the wrong number."

Frowning on hearing the caller spoke English he was about to put the phone down when he remembered he was back in Vegas. He closed his eyes, shaking his head at his mistake as he slowly came to the realisation of who the caller was. "Catherine?" he asked his voice rising with surprise. "Is that you?"

She laughed. "Well, gee, CSI Grissom. Yes it is."

"You caught me by surprise," he said. "I thought for a moment I was still in Paris."

"Fancy that," she replied lightly, "so did I."

Sara stirred and opened a bleary eye. She smiled up at him, lifting a slow hand for the phone.

He muffled the phone to his bare chest, telling Sara in a loud whisper, "Go back to sleep." Smiling, he brushed a little hair out of her face, letting his fingers trail the side of her face. His body stirred. "I got this covered."

Cordless in hand, he pushed the sheet back, got out of bed and naked, headed out of the room. Shutting the door quietly after him he brought the phone back to his ear. "I've only just got back and we've only just got to sleep. Please, don't tell me you need Sara out at a scene."

"Well, hello to you too, Gil. It's good to have you back."

He pulled a face and fumbled his way in the dark to the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Catherine. You caught me-"

"Not at a bad time, I hope?" she asked with mischief in her voice.

His mouth twisted at the innuendo. "What do you want?"

Catherine hummed on the phone. "I think I liked the French greeting best. This grumpy Grissom is no fun."

Sighing, he flicked the wall lights on in the kitchen and opened the fridge, reaching for the half-full bottle of orange juice. Hank's head immediately lifted and he got up from his basket, letting out a loud yawn and stretching languidly as he watched Grissom through droopy eyes, eyes that seemed to say, "This is no time to be woken up."

Ignoring the boxer's hangdog expression Grissom trapped the phone in the crook of his neck, the juice bottle under his arm and attempted to unscrew the lid with one hand. "What do you want?" he asked again. "This isn't a social call, is it?"

Catherine's sigh was long and despondent. "No, it's not. I'm sorry to have to do that to you but I need Sara out on a scene. Everybody's out and she's on call. If she'd let me know you were coming back early I'd have asked Ray to cover."

Grissom's face fell. "She didn't know. It was a surprise."

He took a long swig of juice, his mind wandering back to the moment he'd gotten back home. His flight had been delayed at Charles de Gaulle airport and instead of arriving mid-afternoon as planned he'd landed at McCarran at nine pm. He knew Sara had the night off but wanting to surprise her and see her face as he stepped over the threshold he'd got a cab home and used his key to let himself into the house.

Yelping and whimpering and tail wagging manically Hank had greeted him at the door, and he'd taken a moment to give his beloved boxer a good rub behind the ears before venturing in. All was quiet but the soft glow of flickering images in the darkened house had taken him to the lounge and he'd found Sara asleep on the couch. Amelie was playing to itself on the flat screen in the background and he smiled at the recollection the scene conjured up.

They'd been to watch the French movie at a small art-house cinema the previous year during one of Sara's visits to Paris and seeing Audrey Tautou fill the screen here and now brought back happy memories. He laughed to himself remembering an afternoon spent walking up and down Montmartre looking for the Café des Deux Moulins, and sharing the mandatory crème brûlée.

He stood there hypnotised as he watched Sara sleep, travel bag in hand, still wearing his coat and shoes, until after a moment her eyelids had fluttered open, her lips pursing into a knowing smile and he'd crouched down and kissed her softly on the lips, murmuring, "You need to be more careful; anybody could walk in off the streets."

Sara lifted her hand to stroke his face, the look in her eyes one of sheer love and happiness. "Anybody with a key and that can go past my trustee guard dog." She stared up at him, brushing her fingers very gently over the bags under his eyes. "You look tired," she remarked softly.

"Nothing a good night sleep can't fix," he replied. "I've missed you."

Sara sat up and pulled him up into a sitting position next to her. A wistful smile playing on both their lips, they watched each other for a while, rediscovering each other's faces with their fingers before falling into each other's arms and hugging tightly. "This feels so good," she said taking in a big breath. "You feel so good." She pulled back from his embrace and ran her hands around the curve of his face. "It's been too long. How did you manage to get away so soon?"

He agreed, it had been too long and truth be told he was getting fed up with going back and forth between continents and long distance phone calls. His lips twitched as he almost let slip the second surprise he had in store for her but decided to keep it for Christmas day instead.

"When there's a will there's a way," he said, turning his head to her hand on his cheek and kissing its palm softly. He shrugged. "I brought papers with me to grade over the holidays and I'm going to have to teach a couple of classes online."

She nodded. "You hungry?"

He trailed his hand down her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth and over her bottom lip. She smiled as she read his intentions. "No. But I wouldn't mind going to bed."

"Gil? You're still with me?"

Catherine's voice drew him back to the present. His body betrayed his longing for his wife and he turned away self-consciously hiding himself from Hank's continuous stare. Idly, he put the bottle of juice down on the counter and scratched at the side of his groin. He cleared his voice, grabbing the phone from his shoulder. "Yes, sorry. I was drinking some juice."

He heard a noise and turned watching as a dishevelled and bleary-eyed Sara padded over to him naked under the bed sheet she held loosely around her body. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep and the lingering remains of lovemaking and his breath caught at the sight.

Looking down at Grissom's growing response to her entrance into the room Sara arched her brow with interest. Not looking sheepish at all but rather proud and satisfied, he shrugged and held out the juice bottle to her. She shook her head at the offer and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his midriff, trapping his erection tight against her. She kissed his bare chest softly before nuzzling her face into him and letting out a content breath. He felt himself harden even more and smiling knowingly Sara pulled back from him, deftly easing the phone out of his grasp.

"Where do you need me?" she asked Catherine without preamble.

Grissom pulled a playful face at her. "I was going to put her off," he said in a deliberately loud whisper so Catherine would hear.

"I'm on call," Sara replied back.

"I heard that," Catherine said laughing. "Listen Sara, as I was saying to your husband – or rather trying to – we'll manage without you. I'm sorry I woke both of you up. If I'd known he was back I…"

Sara was only holding the sheet with one hand now and it wasn't covering much at all. The sight did nothing for Grissom's composure and his right hand moved of its own accord to Sara's breast, his fingers brushing very lightly along its curve. The nipple hardened and he smiled wider watching as his wife closed her eyes, supressing a shiver of excitement at his touch. Her hold on the phone loosened and she bit her lip, only just stifling a low moan. God, two months was a long time and Grissom intended to make up for every lost moment.

He ran feather light fingers up to her breast bone, to her neck and down again, very slowly, very lightly, stroking over her breast to the swell of her stomach. The sheet fell to the floor and Grissom closed the gap, teasing his erection tantalisingly close to her nether regions. His lips landed in the crook of her neck on the other side from where she held the phone to her ear and Sara's head tilted instinctively while he kissed and nibbled at the tender spot just below her ear.

Sara swallowed and made a half-hearted effort at pushing him away. "I didn't know either," she replied at last in a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat.

"Put her off," he murmured teasing his tongue over her ear. "Tell her you can't make it."

Sara's reply came out as a low moan.

"Sara?" Catherine said. "The line's bad. Did you hear what I said?"

Sara opened her eyes to stare directly at Grissom's lustful dark blue orbs. She ran her gaze the length of his body and another shiver of excitement coursed through her. He tilted her head up, forcing her gaze back up to his eyes and raised his brow in challenge.

Sara was more than happy to take up the challenge and raise him all the way. She held his gaze as she said, "Yeah. Listen, Catherine. Text me the address; give me an hour to get ready and I'll be there."

Grissom's ardour lost some of its vigour. "An hour?" he mouthed with a pout.

"You sure?" Catherine asked.

Sara winked at him. "Yeah. Grissom's here for four weeks, plenty of time for everything."

"Thanks Sara, you're a godsend."

"Bye Catherine," Grissom said, leaning in close to the mouthpiece. He took the phone from Sara, ending the call. "An hour?" he asked his wife with disbelief.

Sara's lips twitched with an amused smile. She shrugged mildly. "It's the best I could do," she said unconvincingly.

"An hour?" he repeated, a musing look about his face now. "I can work with that. Have worked with tighter deadlines in the past. I'll just have to pull out all the stops."

"All the stops, hey?" she smiled, stepping back and dropping the bed sheet to the floor. "Want a hand there, big boy?" she asked, her eyes flicking downward to his groin, her smile growing bigger, cheekier.

All teasing gone he grabbed her by the hips, lifting her onto the kitchen worktop, spreading her legs apart to make way for his body. "I don't know if an hour's going to be long enough for what I had in mind," he said, stooping to tease his tongue over her left nipple. He grazed his teeth over the areola, his hands moving down to her ass. He palmed the soft flesh, getting even more turned on by her ensuing loud gasp of pleasure. "But Mrs Grissom we certainly can try."

"Oh, god, I love it when you talk dirty."

Sara's soft, languid moan as she spoke was all the encouragement he needed to continue with his ministrations. Her body responded, arching toward him and she closed her eyes. She reached her hands back onto the counter for leverage, leaning her head back, her legs opening wider granting him better, closer access. His lips continued their onslaught on her breasts, her throat and shoulder while his hands brushed against her hips as they came across to the front. One hand brushed up and down her inner thigh while the other was less shy, its fingers teasing their way closer to her folds but never quite making contact.

Sara moaned her frustration and arched forward again, her hips seeking him, desperate for his touch, causing his fingers to slip just inside her. He kept them there feeling her arousal seep through his skin and he paused swallowing at the surge of endorphins that coursed through him. At this rate an hour would be plenty of time, he thought. Sara began gently grinding her body around his fingers, her moans coming deeper and louder and he nudged his erection against her thigh.

"Mrs Grissom," he gasped, taking the whole of her left nipple into his mouth and giving it gentle sucks while his fingers found the tight bud of her clitoris.

Sara's cell beeped with a text message and she flinched, tensing up around him but not in a good way.

"Ignore it," he moaned into her neck while he increased the speed of his fingers' circular motion.

Sara stopped moving. "I can't," she sighed, easing her hips back so his fingers slid out of her. Panting she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back gently. "I'm sorry," she said, taking a few deep breaths to slow her breathing down. She smiled and reached up a hand to his cheek and kissed him. "Pass me the phone."

His shoulder drooped and he sighed. His hand came up to stroke over hers on his cheek, his gaze turning sorrowful, pleading with her.

"Pass me my cell. There, on the counter behind you," she said quickly. She reached up to kiss him long and hard on the mouth. He responded with fervour before she pulled herself back from him, breathless. "Trust me."

His brow furrowed and curling her lips in a wicked smile she wrapped her hand around his waning erection. He closed his eyes, gasping at the sudden overwhelming rush of blood.

"Do you trust me?" she asked. He reopened his eyes, nodding. "Then pass me the phone."

Swallowing, he reached for the phone behind him on the kitchen island and passed it to Sara. Legs still wrapped around his midriff she pressed a couple of buttons, read Catherine's message and tapped a few more keys before bringing the cell to her ear, waiting.

Grissom frowned and watched her. He opened his mouth to talk but she covered it with her hand, saying into the phone. "Hi, Ray, it's Sara. Sorry to wake you….Yeah, yeah everything's okay."

Understanding what Sara was doing, he smiled. Suddenly, his mouth resumed its discovery of her shoulder, his right hand that of her inner thigh; he would drive her crazy with yearning before the call was over. She swallowed and shook her head while she listened to Ray talk but he felt her let go and her body relax into his caresses.

She closed her eyes, only just stifling her moan. "Grissom's back," she managed in a croak between two strokes of Grissom's fingers, "but I'm on call." Grissom's fingers were edging closer to her folds now and Sara paused, literally melting under his touch. "Long story," she replied into the phone, making meaningful eye-contact with her husband and shaking her head. She lowered her hand between her legs, grabbing his wrist to still his fingers. "Catherine needs me out but…Grissom's back," she repeated again as though that explained everything, "and…you mind?...Thanks, Ray. 1471 West Sahara. Suspected arson. One fatality. I owe you-"

Grissom had got hold of the phone, ending the call and tossing it on the counter without ceremony.

"Ray's amazing," Sara said.

"An amazing man," Grissom pondered musingly. "But not as amazing as me when I'm done with you," he whispered grabbing her by the hips and easing her off the counter. "Come back to bed my darling Sara. No need to rush now we have the whole night in front of us."

Shamefully neglected Hank whimpered and skulked back to his basket to the sound of his masters' retreating laughter.

The End.