TITLE: Coming Attractions
AUTHOR: Chauncey10 aka MSCSIFANGSR
PAIRING: Sidle-Grissom
RATING: Mature, sex and mild language.
SUMMARY: A conference brings together former co-workers. Ecklie is definitely out of character.
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them. I don't own the Cubs or the Dodgers either.
THANKS: Some of the characters in this story belong to ProWriter11 and JellyBeanChiChi on fanfiction. They graciously allowed me to use their original characters.
PROMPT: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine," "Casablanca," 1942.
BETA(S): Cropper and csigeekfan. Thanks so much for your insight.
BANNER: JellyBeanChiChi
WARNING: This story is Alternate Universe: Grissom wasn't able to save Sara's job in the episode 'Nesting Dolls'. Instead of suspending Sara, Ecklie flat out fired her. She and Grissom never had the 'murder gene' conversation. Nor does he know much about her past.
SPOILERS: Every show aired in the U.S. to date. I've stayed canon to pre-'Nesting Dolls' but everything after that episode maybe be referred to, but it's not necessarily per canon.
Conrad Ecklie stood in the 'Athenian' conference room of the famous Millennium Biltmore hotel in Los Angeles uploading the material from his laptop into the PowerPoint projection system. He was scheduled to speak in less than a half hour; his topic: 'Managerial Responsibility in a Diverse Forensic Lab' at the annual Forensic Academy Convention.
Actually, he wasn't the scheduled speaker. The original speaker, Dr. Thomas McCaa, of the U.S. Postal Inspection Service and director of state-of-the-art National Forensic Laboratory in Dulles, Virginia had been unable to attend. Dr. McCaa had quite expectedly been called away to Nebraska for the imminent birth of his first grandchild. Since he was unable to attend, Ecklie had been on stand-by to conduct the seminar.
He and several members of the Las Vegas Crime Lab were scheduled to speak at the annual conference for members of the forensic community. It offered the opportunity to network, to find prospective employees, and to learn about new techniques in the world of crime solving. There were three members from his crime lab attending this conference, including himself: David Hodges, his new Assistant Director and the highly lauded doctor of entomology, Gil Grissom, the graveyard shift supervisor.
David and Gil were to be on a panel discussion on the topic of trace analysis which was scheduled at the same time as his.
Conrad and Gil had become friends again, after several years of strained working relations secondary to friendly competition between shifts, promotions, administrative duties and several heated issues over performance or discipline of employees. But, over time their differences evened out when Ecklie finally realized Grissom was content with his job and had no designs on advancing any higher up the lab's managerial ladder.
Ecklie had looked forward to coming to Los Angeles, not especially for this speaking engagement, but for personal reasons. His wife, Diane had not been able to attend, because of a conflict of scheduling. Diane was a fashion designer and had to be in New York when he was in LA.
But Diane's friend, met through of all people, Gil Grissom, was, along with her husband, to meet them for dinner that night. The Shea's were friends of Gil's from his time as the coroner for LA County, and Ecklie and his wife had met the couple several years ago at a dinner party.
The Pat and Kit Shea had been visiting their friend Gil and when Diane Ecklie had invited Grissom to dine with them that night, he'd tried to use the 'I have company' excuse, but Diane had merely told him to bring them along for the impromptu dinner party.
Conrad had found that he and the couple from Marina Del Rey had more than a few common interests and a tentative social friendship began.
Ecklie finished uploading his data and looked around the spacious conference room. The 'Athenian' room contained seating for 45 participants, and Ecklie didn't have any information on the attendees, but was glad he wasn't scheduled to be on the panel discussion which was held seating for 300 in the 'Gold Room' downstairs on the Main Galleria. He was uncomfortable around larger crowds, but a small group of 40ish was okay.
He decided it would be an excellent time to go to the men's room since his speaking engagement was scheduled to begin in about fifteen minutes. Ecklie walked out of the double doors, nodding to one of the staff of the conference who checked the credentials of those attending and making sure the attendee actually attended the course in question to earn the required credits.
Ten minutes later, Conrad Ecklie entered the 'Athenian' room with a new-born confidence. He felt calm and confident his speaking engagement would be a success.
Then he saw her.
Oh, shit.
The CSI he had personally fired for insubordination, about three or four years ago. Sidle was her name, he knew he couldn't forget her because she had been a major obstacle in Grissom/Ecklie one-up-man-ship battle that raged the years she had been a CSI on Grissom's nightshift.
Sidle was sitting, front and center, just to the right of his laptop.
Ecklie wasn't a big movie fan, but a famous quote from a Hollywood classic ran through his head:
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."
It was appropriate.
It was a nightmare.
Only managers or supervisors in crime labs were allowed to attend this particular seminar. His mind reeled: Sidle was in a supervisory capacity in some lab and he'd fired her. He wanted to melt into the golden carpet of the room.
Then his brain took over: What do I have to be worried about? I was in the right and she was in the wrong. I'll just ignore her.
Conrad stepped up to the front of the audience, began his presentation. If she was surprised by his presence or the fact he was the instructor of this course, Sara showed no emotion. She kept a poker face.
Four and a half hours later when he called for questions, Sidle bulleted him. As soon as he would answer one, she would fire another, leaving the other participants with no room to squeeze in a question of their own. Finally, Ecklie had no other option.
"Ms. Sidle, if you have further questions on managerial procedures, can you wait until I dismiss the class? I will be happy to offer any assistance you may require." Conrad looked over his new bifocals at the still vibrant and volatile brunette.
She nodded, not saying another word, until Ecklie approached her seat, after the others had filed out of the room.
"Hi, Ecklie. I didn't know you'd be teaching this class or I would have gone with the other members of my team to the panel discussion on Trace." Sara looked at Ecklie with a trace of contempt.
"It's okay, Sidle. It was a last minute change. Dr. McCaa's people called and asked for me to present because he was called out of town on a family matter. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable." Ecklie offered his hand to her, to assist her out of her seat.
"No," she took his hand. "It merely surprised me to see you, again, here," indicating with a nod the room in which they were standing.
"Where are you working now?" Conrad asked, curious to know the fate of his former least favorite CSI.
"I'm the nightshift supervisor with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation in the Memphis region." Sara announced proudly.
Ecklie nodded his head and replied, "Nice, the crime level in Memphis rivals the one in Vegas. How did you end up there?"
"Long before I left Vegas," she smiled slightly in his direction, "I sent my resume to the Feds and to all State bureaus. I had been contacted by the Tennessee Bureau twice, the first time after the Strip Strangler case and then later in the investigation of some phony money the secret service had filtered into the system. I stayed in contact with them periodically and when it was time to leave, I had a job."
Ecklie hadn't known. He was impressed. Sidle had been an excellent investigator, but she let cases affect her emotionally. He remembered once thinking of her a 'loose cannon with a gun', it may not have been accurate in the long term, but at the time, it certainly summed up her to a 'T'.
"Good for you." Ecklie smiled.
"Um, Ecklie can I ask you about the team?" She looked him in the eye. The light brown eyes were something about him that she had never noticed. He had kind eyes.
He answered immediately, "Well, soon after you were fired…sorry," he corrected himself after a scathing look from her. "Stokes was kidnapped and later found dead, buried in a coffin rigged with explosives by a man upset over his daughter's incarceration."
"Yeah, I went to his funeral in Texas. I didn't see you there." Sara's tone softened, in remembrance of her friend.
"I arranged so the nightshift could go to Texas for his funeral and I took responsibility for Stokes' death since I was the one who split you guys apart. I made a lot of changes to try to get morale back up after his death, but ultimately I felt it was my fault, because I took the Sheriff at his word when he said that the LVPD did not negotiate with terrorists. I felt awful."
Ecklie lowered his head. "I didn't know how else to reach out, but Grissom and I became friends after that and things got better." He watched Sara's reaction to his off-hand mention of Grissom. The irises of her eyes enlarged slightly. That was interesting. He had always suspected something was going on, in a non-professional manner, but Conrad never could find any evidence of any impropriety in the work place.
Ecklie knew Grissom really 'liked' the young woman, if liked was the right word. But he also knew that Grissom was bound by an ethical commitment that prevented him from breaching the supervisor/employee relationship.
He had seen for himself the way Sidle had mooned over Grissom. She never demonstrated any actions that were deemed inappropriate in a sexual harassment type manner, but her longing looks were legendary.
"Willows married a lawyer and is now the current president and CEO of all of Sam Braun's holdings."
Sara whistled long and low at the news of Catherine's new life after the crime lab.
Ecklie continued, "Do you remember the lab rat in DNA, Greg Sanders?"
Sara smiled and remembered his smile and the apparent crush he had on her.
"Grissom promoted him to CSI. A couple of years later while investigating a series of gang-related beatings, he was beaten to an inch of his life. As soon as he got out of the hospital, he quit and moved back to California and returned to being a DNA tech at a professional paternity lab."
"That sucks for him."
"I guess the only lab rats you would remember that are still employed with the LVPD are Bobby Dawson from ballistics, Archie Johnson from AV, and David Hodges from Trace. Actually, Hodges is now the assistant director of the crime lab."
Sara's mouth opened into a wide 'O', but was unable to reply to that information. Her mind could not accept the thought of Hodges being anything other than the 'suck-up' he was.
Ecklie spoke again, "Brown was killed in a mob hit earlier this year."
"Oh my God, what happened?" Sara's hand flew to her mouth.
"A big time old mobster was killed, Brown had investigated the mobster in the death of a hooker. Brown was involved on a personal level with the hooker, Warrick was arrested for the mobster's murder but cleared by internal affairs. Several weeks later, Brown was found dead in his car of two gun shots through his neck. The undersheriff went ballistic and had the majority of anyone with mob ties arrested, but no one had ever been truly implicated in the murder."
"So that's everyone." A single tear rolled down her face, as she attempted to control the emotions that were trying to escape. She didn't want to breakdown in front of the man standing before her.
Ecklie noticed she hadn't mentioned Grissom. He started to mention Gil's name again, but the look on her face stopped him.
Conrad had a sudden thought. What if….
"Um, Sara would you like to eat dinner tonight with me and…" Ecklie began.
"I have meet the members of my staff later." Sara quickly recovered from the startling realization that it was Conrad Ecklie who finally asked her to dinner.
"I understand, but please stop by Smeraldi's Restaurant here in the hotel tonight about 6 pm. My people and some from Los Angeles are getting together and going to the Dodger/Cub game tonight. You and your staff are more than welcome to join us. Please, Sara. It will be fun and it's always good to network. And I'd like to make amends to our last time together. Curiously, I feel like I owe you something."
Sara considered his offer, then replied, "Okay, I'll see you at six." Sara gathered her purse and notebook and turned to leave the room. "Um, Ecklie, as hard as it is for me to say this, I'm going to say it anyway. It was good to see you again."
When he looked up, he was alone in the conference room.
Smeraldi's was bustling with activity. The restaurant was named for the man who had painted the frescos in the world famous hotel. The menu boasted authentic Italian and Northern California cuisine.
Conrad Ecklie sat at the table, looking at his watch, then toward the entrance. He was nervous; it was a little past six and Sidle had yet to arrive.
Gil Grissom watched his boss with a particular interest, but he was engaged in conversation with Kit Shea, who sat on his immediate left. No one was seated in the one empty seat to his right.
Kit was the wife of Lt. Patrick Shea, an old friend from his days as a coroner for Los Angeles county. Pat sat on the other side of his wife, quietly laughing at the stories Kit told on Grissom. Kit had been the best friend of Renee D'Angelo, who was married to Paul D'Angelo, a friend of Gil's from college who owned a security company in the greater Los Angeles area.
The D'Angelos had tragically been murdered in their own home by a band of brothers who enjoyed raping and torturing couples. Neither Grissom or the Sheas wanted to relive that nightmare.
"We were so sure that Gil was gay back in the day. He never showed any interest in women. I tried to get him to go out with a couple of girlfriends, but he never would."
As Kit Shea related the story, David Hodges, from across the round table, openly stared at Grissom with a faraway look in his eye. Thankfully, no one noticed since both seats were open to either side of him.
"I'm not gay, nor have I ever been, Kit," Grissom replied succinctly, as Hodges closed his eyes, thinking, I could only hope.
Conrad replayed the conversation that he'd had with Kit prior to Grissom's arrival:
"I have a surprise for Gil tonight." Ecklie had whispered into her ear.
"What?" Kit had turned away from her husband, Pat and had given Ecklie her full attention.
"I invited a woman from my course to eat with us tonight. She and Gil could have been…" his voice had trailed off.
"Is she the one?" Kit's voice had become louder.
He nodded, "I'm sure Gil will be surprised; he hasn't seen her in four years. But there was something between them."
"Well, we'll do everything we can to keep them inseparable tonight." Kit had winked conspiratorially.
Ecklie looked up to the entrance and smiled as Sara Sidle and two men entered the room.
Grissom had his back was to the entrance and therefore didn't see the new arrivals that were headed to their table, but he did notice the smile on the face of Conrad Ecklie.
Sara sidled over to their table, nervously eyeing Hodges. She had never developed a fondness for him. She sincerely hoped he would not say anything to her. She noticed the man with curling gray hair sitting with his back to her, a spark of desire flared through her.
Pat Shea elbowed the man on his left, a LA County crime scene investigator named and close friend of Pat and Kit's, "She's hot."
Kit Shea elbowed her husband, "You did not just say that."
"Hey," he grabbed where she had elbowed him, "that hurt. And I was looking for Gil here, she definitely looks like his type."
Grissom turned to look at the woman his friend had referred to and was greeted by the intense brown eyes that haunted his dreams.
Sara stopped, rooted to the floor when she saw Grissom's blue indigo eyes staring at her. His face bore a look of astonishment. She was sure she just looked stupid.
Oh my God, she so beautiful, he thought as he stood to greet her.
"Sara," the name rolled off his tongue, sensually.
"Grissom."
He noticed the two men on either side of her. They were young, handsome, and chiseled with muscles. Jealously flooded him.
Ecklie stood up and touched Sara's elbow, gripping it lightly, "Everyone, this is Sara Sidle with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation and two members of her team…"
Grissom couldn't tear his eyes away from hers.
Hodges cursed under his breath when he saw the former CSI.
"They are here for the conference. Sara used to work in Vegas before moving to her current position as Nightshift Supervisor for the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation in the Memphis area." Conrad paused, noticing the looks that were exchanged between Sidle and Grissom. "Sara, gentlemen, this is Lt and Mrs. Pat and Kit Shea, he's a detective with LAPD and she is the sports editor for a newspaper in the area."
Kit spoke to Sara, while looking at her attire. Sara wore a cream colored silk skirt with golden embroidery and a pair of flat gold sandals. Her brunette hair spilling around her face. Kit was impressed with the woman's carriage and unspoken authority. "The Marina Del Ray Argonaut. " Kit Shea clarified.
"And you, of course remember Grissom and Hodges." Conrad gestured at each person as he introduced them around the table. "And finally CSI supervisor Peter Gonzalez from here in LA."
Sara smiled at the CSI from Los Angeles. She spoke to Grissom, unable to meet his gaze, while looking at Gonzo, "Grissom, aren't you from there?" referring to Marina Del Ray.
Grissom was startled she remembered that little known information, but knowing she remembered appealed to his male pride.
"Yeah," Grissom flushed.
Four people were watching their exchange in awe: Ecklie, who had instigated the meeting; Pat, with whom Grissom had shared a scotch or two where Sara's name had slipped out on more than one occasion. He had mentioned the woman to his wife, but had never supplied the woman's name.
Kit instinctively knew that Grissom and the woman standing before her were destined to be together. She could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension between her old friend and this woman.
Hodges was pissed. He had never liked Sidle, he tried a few times to be nice to her, but she was so snarky to him, he had given up on gaining her attention, then after she was gone, he didn't even think of her again until the moment he saw her enter the restaurant.
The two TBI investigators promptly took the seats next to Hodges.
Hodges smiled at both of them. They ignored him.
Sara was forced to take the only other chair, the one immediately to Grissom's right.
The waiter brought menus to the table and within several minutes, he had taken their appetizer and drink orders.
Sara was quiet throughout the meal, speaking only when spoken to directly. She was far more aware of the proximity of Grissom's thigh to hers.
He had brushed against her first accidentally, then because she didn't move, he attempted it again from time to time. With each touch, Sara's smile brightened.
Grissom was quiet, he was thinking about the beautiful woman beside him. He had always wanted her in a sexual way and she appealed to his intelligent side, but that was something just out of his gasp. Cases disturbed her on an emotional level, she could not detach from the job, it was personal for her and he had never been able to discover her reasons.
Their meal was served and the occupants of the table enjoyed the food, conversation and atmosphere of the famed restaurant.
Grissom's overactive imagination was running every possible ending to this evening and all of them ending with him looming over her, kissing her lips, her perfect breasts, branding her as his own, as his meal sat before him untouched.
Sara's imagination was as active as Grissom, they shared similar thoughts and dispositions toward their meal. She never noticed she had been served the Vermicelli Noodles with Vegetables and Tofu she had ordered.
Kit lay a careful hand on Grissom's forearm, trying not to startle him, because she noticed him, apparently lost in thought, "Gil, we're leaving for Dodger Stadium, now. Are you and Sara coming to the game?"
Both Sara and Grissom looked up and noticed the table was cleared of their dinnerware, and the other former occupants of the table were discreetly standing to the left of the maitre de's stand.
"Um, yeah. Sara, shall we?" He gripped her elbow assisting her to standing. As they walked toward the others, his hand found the small of her back.
Sara felt scorched by his touch.
Kit smiled as she followed the two toward the exit.
Ecklie smirked in Kit's direction.
She winked back at him.
Their plan appeared to be working.
Dodger Stadium in Chavez Ravine was the setting as the sun slowly slipped into the horizon. The group had secured tickets to the game. Kit and Ecklie had distributed the tickets, making sure Grissom and Sara were seated together.
The group was seated in the yellow seats behind the third base line about 25 rows from the field. They were excellent seats, the game was close through-out, with the visiting Cubs winning by one run in the top of the eleventh inning.
The members of the group of investigation professionals enjoyed the game immensely. Two members of their group never once eyed the action on the field, in which Kosuke Fukudome of the Cubs had blasted a solo homerun in each of his at-bats. And Dodger first baseman, James Loney made spectacular plays on defense through-out the game.
Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom were sitting together in the middle of the row of seats, the others were spread out toward the aisles. They appeared safe in their own little cocoon, nothing else mattered to them but the of them.
They talked, they double entrantred, they flirted, they touched all under the watchful eyes of Conrad Ecklie and Kit Shea. The other members of their group were oblivious to the couple, glued as they were to the baseball game.
Conrad winked at Kit when he noticed the two discretely holding hands. Both were extremely pleased by the developments between the two lovebirds. Their plans were working out nicely.
Cubs 5 Dodgers 4. Grissom/Sidle priceless.
The group had traveled via hotel shuttle to and from the game. When they reached the hotel, the two investigators from Tennessee, the CSI from LA and David Hodges made their way to the world famous bar at the Biltmore, the Grand Avenue Sports Bar through the ornate lobby of the hotel which featured a replica of the wrought-iron stairwell found in Spain's Burgos cathedral.
Ecklie and the Shea's shared a few words as Pat and Kit awaited their car from valet.
Grissom and Sidle had disappeared.
"Where did Gil get off to?" Pat asked.
"He and Sara slipped off together." Conrad relayed, smiling broadly.
"He's been in love with that woman for about 10 years. I remember he called me from somewhere, Berkeley, maybe or Cleveland, where he was giving a lecture about his bugs and he told me he was in trouble then. He had met a young, beautiful woman who shared the small intellectual affinity with life as he did. He told me that the minute he saw her, he knew what it meant to be 'in love'."
"They were always perfectly in sync when they worked together in Vegas. But I always suspected something was going on between them, but I could never catch them."
"Because nothing has ever gone on between them. She was forbidden fruit to him. First as a student then an employee. Gil would never cross that invisible line." Pat's hand traveled the length of his wife's back, settling just above her butt.
"Grissom is all about the rules." Conrad said to the tired couple.
"But those rules aren't in effect anymore.' Kit's revelation startled the two men, but they were shocked into silence with her next statement. "He will probably lose his virginity tonight." Kit smiled at the expressions on the men's faces. "What? Do either of you believe Gil has ever been laid before?"
"Naw," was their answer in unison.
"Then, tonight's the night." She sung the old Rod Stewart song's lyrics to the men, who were now laughing heartily at her singing voice.
Kit reached up and slapped Conrad's hand that was raised above his head.
Pat was startled by their 'high five', but remained silent.
"Next time, be sure to bring Diane with you. We haven't seen her since the last time we were in Vegas. She would have had a blast tonight." Kit told Ecklie.
"I'll call her when I get up to my room and tell her all about this evening." Ecklie smirked.
At that point, the Shea's car was brought to the front entrance of the famous establishment that had been the site for eight award ceremonies of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
"See you later, Eck," Kit called as the attendant opened the passenger side door for her.
Ecklie waved his goodbyes and openly stared at the world famous lobby of the hotel. The place reminded him of a cathedral. Warm rich reds and greens fringed with gold was the color scheme. There were statues gargoyles and muses and coats of arms were on display. His thoughts were on his wife as he made his way to the bank of elevators.
Diane would love this place and all the romantic trappings. I miss her.
Meanwhile, in the elevator, Sara was kissing Grissom with all the stored passion she had held in for so long. She had always dreamed of kissing him, since the very first time she had laid eyes on him.
When they broke, just to stare into the other's eyes, Sara muttered, "The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up."
"Paul Valery, French poet, 1871-1945."
"Do you have a photographic memory?" She touched her tongue to his ear as she whispered the words.
"Oui, mademoiselle." He performed the same action on the outer portion of her ear. "I remember every inch of your body in great detail, from the freckles on your legs to the scent of your arousal." He inhaled deeply, "I smell that now."
Sara was speechless.
The elevator opened on the seventh floor, the two had rooms on the same floor of the hotel.
Sara and Gil broke apart. Sara pulled her key card out of her small clutch purse and Gil pulled his out of his wallet.
"Mine or yours?" He asked.
"Which one is closer?" She purred.
He grabbed the card from her hand and put it into the room door lock. "This one."
As soon as the door shut, their bodies gravitated to an all consuming kiss. Her back against the door; his body pressed hard to her.
The phrase Between a rock and a hard place made perfect sense to Sara after all these years.
Their lips and tongues battled for dominance, but dominance was not what they were trying to achieve: mutual pleasure was their goal.
"I've missed you, Griss," Sara breathed between kisses.
"I've longed for you, Sara," he said as he pressed his erection into her, while caressing her silk encased ass with his large hands. "It's been six months. I'm sorry I couldn't get away."
"It's been so long since I felt you," Sara words were mumbled as he pressed his arousal then pulled away, then pressed forcefully into her again.
"Sara, may I take you to bed?" His voice quivered in anticipation.
She wiggled out of his embrace, casually undoing and letting her skirt fall to the floor, then she pulled her shirt artlessly over her head, mussing her hair in all directions. She stood before him in only a sheer, cream-colored bra and matching panties. Her nipples were already erect and seemed to be begging for his touch, his mouth.
She reached for his belt and began undoing it. "I've wanted you, forever, Gilbert Arthur Grissom."
Grissom toed off his shoes as he said, "And I you, Sara Anne Sidle."
He watched, entranced, as she unhooked the clasps on his pants and pushed them down his legs along with his boxers. His erection stood out, proud, long and in need of some serious attention.
She ran her fingers over the velvet hardness of his shaft.
Her other hand cupped his balls.
He longed to taste her, but instead he pulled off his shirt and stood naked before her.
She reached to remove her bra, but his hand stopped her.
"Allow me," he whispered as he slid the strap down her shoulder, kissing the skin of her shoulder; he unclasped the bra in the front with one hand, as his mouth captured one of her nipples.
Sara's brain was in overdrive. She didn't want foreplay, she wanted him inside her now.
She pulled her panties off in a rush and fell down onto the bed. She opened her legs for Grissom as he lay down on top of her.
His desire slipped perfectly between her wet folds. And without thought or help from either of their hands, his dick effortlessly slid inside her.
They moaned together at the sensation of his manhood moving inside her warmth.
In and out, they moved together.
Perfection, both thought.
"More," she moaned.
He lifted one of her impossibly long legs over one of his shoulders and as if on cue, she raised the other to his opposite shoulder.
He pressed all of his length into her; he didn't think he'd ever been so far inside a woman in his life. He was hers, for all time.
Her head was banging against the headboard, but she didn't notice. The only thing she was aware of was his cock pulsing inside her.
Sara moaned his name against his shoulder as the first spasms began to engulf her.
He felt her muscles contract against him, pulling him under the tide of sensuality. He finally gave in to the inevitable and allowed his orgasm to erupt inside of Sara.
They lay together with him still on top, his cock had softened, but it was still buried inside her. Neither wanted to break the spell of their almost magical connection.
After what have could have been minutes or perhaps even hours, he felt her body against his in a sensual manner and he became aroused again. Slowly, they moved against and with each other slowly.
He knew she was close to climax again from the way her face flushed beneath his; it was purely his fantasy from earlier in the evening when he had first seen her at the restaurant.
"I love you."
He stopped moving in her. He allowed her to ride him as her hips moved in an up and down motion. The sensations were more than he could hold off, as he came for the second time that evening.
Their bodies splayed across the now, messy bed. Evidence of their joining, stained the bed's comforter. Both were flushed and out of breath, but were beyond content.
"I love you, too," she breathed. "My head hurts for some reason."
He laughed. "Do you think our matchmakers knew?"
"Knew what?"
"That this wasn't our first tango?" He smiled at her, remembering the first time they were together.
They had buried Nick that afternoon.
He was surprised to see Sara at the funeral, but he knew the two of them had been close. Grissom missed having Sara on his team and if truth be told, he missed Sara on other levels.
Grissom was tired, depressed and questioned the reason he had become a crime scene investigator.
Somehow, he and Sara had ended the day in the same hotel bar, drinking shots of tequila for her and scotch for him.
After several rounds, Sara announced, "Tequila makes me horny."
Grissom pulled back, looking at the beautiful brunette sitting beside him. This is wrong, he thought, but then he realized it really wasn't, not anymore.
"How about you come up to my room, Miss Sidle? I can take care of your affliction," he smiled at her shocked expression, "But only if you'd like."
Sara's eyes were filled with shock at first, but softened when she realized Grissom wasn't joking, but she was drunk and missed her friend, Nick. She wouldn't admit it, but she had missed Grissom more than she had thought.
He's propositioning me. She thought, And about damned time, too
She didn't know if she could withhold her enthusiasm.
Wordless, she took his hand and they made their up the stairs to Grissom's room where there was an urgency to their lovemaking, but nothing was rushed. They explored the other's body with reverence, with love, with hope. Their skin seemed to melt into the other's. They were finally one.
Grissom smiled as he breathed the scent of Sara's hair as she lay curled up beside him, Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The first time he'd sunk his flesh into her's, it was like finding his missing half. He tightened his arm around her.
She looked up into his eyes, seeing all the love and devotion she had wished for all her life. Sara began peppering light kisses on his shoulder as her thoughts continued in the same vein as his.
They met at least once a month. Sometimes in Branson, Missouri, where Grissom loved to visit the Roy Rogers museum; sometimes in Chicago, where they would attend baseball or hockey games, depending on the season; sometimes in St. Louis, just because of the old song; once in New Orleans, hot, humid and languid, they had roamed the streets holding hands, marveling at the sights; and sometimes he would met her in Memphis for several days, spent making love and becoming intimate on other levels.
Grissom used the excuse of roach racing or giving a lecture or perhaps saying nothing to his remaining team-members. Sara didn't hide their relationship, but neither did she advertise it either. Her team knew she met her boyfriend frequently, who lived somewhere out west.
They had been involved for four years now, neither expecting anymore than the other could give. But both secretly wanted more, to spend their lives together.
Gil wouldn't let Sara met him in Las Vegas. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea, scared she would want to return to the Vegas lab full-time. And that thought terrified him, Sara coming back to work. They would never be able to keep their relationship secret. The idea of her in his living space didn't phase him. He wanted her there.
They continued to give the other space, neither sharing their thoughts of further intimacy.
Neither wanted to give up their careers.
He was one the foremost Entomologists in the United States, often being called out of town on cases involving insects. The lab in Las Vegas had become one of the top forensic labs in the country and if he were honest, he knew he and his team had a lot to do with that statistic.
And she excelled with the Tennessee Bureau and as her work became more involved when she was promoted to the nightshift supervisor, their meetings became sporadic. And then with the murder of Warrick Brown, Grissom had been so immersed in that investigation, that he hadn't done more than contact Sara via email. She had been so busy with a mob investigation of her own, that she hadn't read the email until two weeks after Warrick's funeral. They hadn't seen each other for six months.
It had been the most horrible six months of their lives. They had planned to get together at this conference in Los Angeles, but didn't expect his friends to push them together.
I really need this woman in my life all the time.
His sudden realization startled him, but this time it didn't frighten him.
Grissom knew he would get the third degree from Kit about Sara. He hoped since he and Conrad were now friends, Ecklie would suspend a couple of rules if Sara were to return to Vegas permanently. But he didn't know if Sara would be amendable to coming back to Vegas. In fact, if she didn't want to come back to Vegas, he would be willing to make the move to Tennessee.
Sara was comfortable in their silence after making love twice. She was lost in similar thoughts of her own. She had stopped her ministrations to his shoulder, reveling in the warmth of his body. She wanted to be with Gil forever. It didn't matter where they were, as long as they were together.
His voice broke the comfortable silence of the room, "So, are you free for the rest of your life?" His blue orbs seemed to penetrate her being.
Their bodies became entangled in passion again after she smiled and nodded in assent to his question.
Conrad Ecklie was beaming with pride as he hung up the telephone in his office.
He had pleaded with the Sheriff to go to the City Council to allow for a change in the policies and procedures to allow married CSI's to work on the same shift.
The members of the City Council could have cared less when presented with the new proposal, having many other important resolutions to consider, so the new regulations for the city's crime lab passed without dissent, effective immediately.
Ecklie quickly picked up the telephone. He had some calls to make, but his first call wasn't to Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert A. Grissom, but instead he called a sports reporter in Marina Del Ray, California.
THE END
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