Title: Dog Days
Genre: fluff? Dare I say it?
Rating: G
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: CBS yada yada yada
Dog Days
"Gil...."
Even though his name is mumbled into her pillow he can hear the trace of annoyance.
His eyes are still closed and all he can bring himself to do is make a "mmm" sound that hopefully conveys how tired he is. Somewhere from across the bed he notices whining.
Sara is moving to his left.
"Gilbert."
Her voice is still muffled and far from awake although more urgent.
He buries his face deeper in the sheets.
"What?"
"Your dog needs to pee."
That would explain the high pitched whining.
"My dog?" He still refuses to open his eyes. It can't be past noon. Which means he is definitely entitled to a few more hours of sleep.
He feels Sara shift again and when she speaks her voice is much closer.
"Yes."
He can feel her tuck the sheet around her more tightly and her fingers brush his shoulder.
He turns to face her, still not opening his eyes and rests his hand on her waist. Her hair is tickling his nose, smelling of that stuff she uses to straighten it. Her skin is warm under his fingers through her tank top. Over all there seems to be no reason to leave bed.
If it wasn't for the whining which is getting more persistent until it finally erupts into a sound that comes close to a dogs bark.
Grissom opens his eyes, looking straight ahead at Sara's face in the semi darkness of their bedroom. Her eyes are closed although she isn't sleeping. Her lips are slightly parted and her hair has already begun to curl again. Even the few hours of sleep so far have given her skin that morning (or in their case: evening) glow and her cheeks are flushed.
The dog voices his urgency once more and Sara's eyes open. They are dark and heavy lidded and she looks way too young to be in bed with him.
"He REALLY needs to pee."
He sighs. "You were the one who wanted the kennel on your side of the bed...."
She rubs her cheek against the pillow.
"Yeah but that was when he was a sleepy puppy in need of motherly love."
He sighs again, this time a little more audible. Hank lets out another youthful, yet clear bark before he goes back to whining to which he adds scratching at the kennel door.
Grissom looks at Sara, who has closed her eyes again, a triumphant smile on her lips.
It appears he is now not only under her command but under the dogs as well. Somehow that notion makes his lips curve upwards and he finally manages to peel himself from the woman under the sheets.
He glances at the bedside clock, which tells him that it is 1:37 pm. He rubs his eyes and finally manages to get up, not without protest from his joints that are definitely in need of more rest.
He walks over to Sara's side of the bed, where the large kennel is placed for now and pulls it away to open the door.
Hank has been squeaking and whining and scratching as if his life depended on it and is now more than excited to be set free. His tail is wagging so fast his entire behind is moving from side to side and Grissom has a hard time getting a good grip on the puppy to pick him up. Once he manages to, Hank starts to lick his chin.
Grissom carries the puppy to the sliding doors and prepares himself for the bright Nevada heat that is about to greet him. He opens the curtains wide enough to get outside, squinting into the sun. He shortly appreciates the fact that he bought a place with a yard since otherwise he would certainly not be letting the dog outside in nothing but pajamas pants.
As he watches Hank squat down to relieve his bladder he scratches his stomach and yawns. He wonders how long it will take for a dog to sleep for prolonged hours since he is fairly certain he can do without standing out here in the afternoon heat.
Hank has finished peeing and is now very interested in the hard grass covering the yard. He is sniffing and sitting down to watch whatever grasps his attention.
Grissom looks at Hank who seems to be very interested in a leaf for the time being. Even though he is tired and the afternoon heat is already making him sweat there is something utterly pleasing in watching this little creature discover the world.
He kneels down, ignoring the protesting sound from his knees and pats his leg. It takes Hank a few minutes to notice his master but then he jumps up toward him, bumping into his knees and proceeding to lick his feet excitedly. Grissom scratches his back, continuously telling him what a good boy he is. He then picks him up again since he hardly believes that Hank is already up to the task of following him dutifully back into his kennel.
Back in the bedroom, he kneels down on the floor, holding the dog on his arm a little longer. He is already calming down and Grissom is incredible glad for this. He is certainly in no condition to entertain the little guy.
Without much of a problem Hank is put back into his kennel, were he soundly falls to the ground, making a content noise as he yawns.
"Good boy", Grissom tells the dog again before placing the kennel back in its original position and walking back to his side of the bed. Or, as it turns out his former side of the bed, since Sara, who has fallen back asleep, has sprawled herself across the width of their king sized bed.
She is on her stomach, arms buried deep under his pillow. The sheets have slid down a little, exposing the toned muscles of her upper arms and the tank top she is wearing. Her hair is spread over her shoulders and partially covering up her face.
If she hadn't made him get up he probably would have found a way to crawl back into bed without waking her but considering the circumstances he judges it only to be fair for her to vacate his spot she is occupying.
He leans down and touches her shoulder. She stirs and opens her eyes.
"Do you think you could let me back into bed?"
His hand is still resting on her warm skin and she smiles sleepily up at him before she slowly moves over a few inches and lifts up the covers. He crawls back into bed but stops her before she can put the sheet back over him.
"Too warm."
She nods and places her hand on his chest, her fingers drawing lazy circles around a few graying hairs. Her eyes close again and she leans her head against his chest, completely ignoring his statement about being warm.
"Did the little guy do alright?"
He looks down on her fingers on his chest and slides his fingers at her waist a few millimeters under her tank top.
"I have never seen a dog urinate in a better way." he teases and lays his free hand on her fingers on his chest. She slides a warm leg over his but he isn't up to protesting. He is too content and tired to protest against anything for now. He looks down at his hand on hers and inhales the scent rising from her hair.
With Sara wrapped half around him he pulls the sheet over his legs as his eyelids get heavier. Across the bed, Hank is snoring faintly.
Fin.