Title: In Other Words
Author: Spanky 743
Pairing: GSR
Rating: M, but a light one
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI and blah blah blah.
A/N: This has been kicking around in my head for a while, so I purged it. Many thanks to Liz00 for the beta work.
I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you.
-Grissom, Leapin' Lizards
--
The first time they made love, it was done in complete silence. The quiet had begun after Sara's whispered "yes" to the unspoken question written on Gil's face, and was broken many hours later with a simple "hi" as he ran his fingers trough her sleep-mussed hair. Nothing more had needed to be said; the lack of awkwardness in the room spoke volumes.
Their in-bed vocabulary soon expanded to include the words yeah, more, oh, and there. Always spoken by Sara.
It was during their ninth coupling that things began to change. He was kissing his way up her legs, driving her mad with the anticipation of what he was about to do for the first time. Gil broke his silence when the first few tendrils of hair tickled his nose.
"How much more pleasing is your love than wine," He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of her scent. "And the fragrance of your perfume than any spice."
His tongue lapped at her wetness. "Hmm...You are a garden fountain, a well of flowing water."
And so he continued, with metaphor after metaphor, until he brought her to climax with an intensity she had never before experienced. Had any other man recited poetry in bed, it would have been Sara's signal to leave quietly in the middle of the night. It suited Grissom's personality so well that she knew he was being nothing but sincere, and instead of laughing at the cheesiness of it all she had to fight to keep tears from falling.
She googled his words the next day.
A week later, sated and secure in his arms after coupling number twelve, Sara heard him speak again.
"How do I hold thee but by thy granting, and for that riches where is my deserving?" He kissed her mouth one final time. "Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing. Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking."
He drifted to sleep as she pondered the meaning of his words.
It became a delicacy for Sara. Sex with Grissom was always satisfying, but the days when he would speak were very special to her. He never said the three magical words, but she never felt anything less than loved. It was flattering that he thought his feelings could only be expressed in lofty language.
Whenever she saw him lounging on his Eames chair, volume of poetry in hand, she would smile. She knew that he was reading, searching, and memorizing for her - finding the words with which to express himself. Even when he wrote her a letter from across the country, he could only find five of his own sentences before turning to Shakespeare to get his point across.
Rather than tell her "I need you" as he unbuttoned her blouse he would say, "So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned show'rs are to the ground."
On the eighth anniversary of the day they met he said, "In that book which is my memory...On the first page that is the chapter when I first met you appear the words...Here begins a new life."
He whispered, "To me, fair friend, you can never be old, for as you were when first your eye I eyed, such seems your beauty still," while moving in her slowly. It was her birthday.
--
On the night they pledged their lives to one another, alone in their hotel suite, Gil spoke words of adoration to Sara. They were so beautiful, so perfect that she could not keep the tears at bay as they consummated their commitment to one another.
"Keats?" she asked him afterwards as they lay entangled in sheets and skin.
He took her left hand and kissed the band of gold.
"Grissom."
FIN
