TITLE: Saved by the Cell Phone
AUTHOR: Chauncey10 aka MSCSIFANGSR
PAIRING: Gil/Sara
RATING: M for sexual situation and a four letter word.
SUMMARY: This is in the realm of 'Memories, A Wedding Ring and Love Along the Way' by Keegan Elizabeth. This is also my entry into the Las Vegas Metro Crime Code Challenge #4 from Chadini: 411B Stolen LVMPD bait car.
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them.
SPOILERS: 'Memories, A Wedding Ring and Love Along the Way' by Keegan Elizabeth on fanfiction, follows chapters 17 and 18. Her story is a must read before reading this one.
NOTES: Written for Keegan as a BIG THANK YOU! She said I could share it with everyone else. Hope you enjoy this short little story.
GSRGSRGSRGSRGSR
Grissom awoke immediately, as soon as Sara's fingers had crept under his plain white t-shirt.
He lay on his back, trying to calm his heart rate, as she traced unknown patterns over his chest while he pretended to still be asleep.
He willed himself not to become aroused. But that was difficult because Sara's body was entangled with his: her head in the crook of his arm, her body pressed warmly to his and her knee strategically curled up against his thigh, rubbing her toes softly, suggestively, against his calf.
She moved her fingers to his left nipple, caressing the hardened pebble. When his breath hitched, she smiled, she had thought he was awake. She decided to up the ante a bit. She pressed her knee, tensing and relaxing slowly, into his crotch and was pleased by the stiffness that greeted her in response.
"Sara," he moaned.
"Good morning." She said cheerfully, as she raked her nails down his sternum onto his stomach, placing a hurried, urgent kiss on his upper arm, licking the skin beneath her lips.
"Don't." Grissom croaked as she pressed her knee harder into him and her fingernails toyed with the waistband of his tented boxers.
She slid a finger under the waistband, making immediate contact with his short curls.
He pulled away from her as if burned by a raging flame, shot out of the bed, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.
She was stunned. Sara looked at the door incredulously. She wondered if she was ever going to experience her husband's love making.
Gil was shocked, pleased, terrified, turned on, mortified, and happy, beyond belief as he stood over the sink splashing water over his face. He knew this was coming since he'd kissed her so passionately last week before going to the doctor's office. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure he'd be able to contain himself much longer.
He had tried his best to wake up every morning before Sara to avoid situations such as the one he'd just narrowly escaped. But he was just too tired since he had returned to work and she felt so right beside him in his bed.
When he walked out of the bathroom later, she was propped against several pillows, looking severely pissed. He started to say something to her, probably how incredibly beautiful she looked in his bed, naked, but she cut him off.
"Why won't you make love to me, Gil? You won't let me work either, even though the doctor cleared me. We are married. I may not remember it, but we're husband and wife. Is it because I don't remember? I want to make love to you but you pull away from me, like you've always done. I love you, I've loved you as long as I've known you. Please come to bed and..." Her voice trailed off. She saw his eyes had enlarged as big as saucers.
He stood looking at the vision that was not his wife, as he felt the world under his feet start to shift. He had to leave now before he simply took what she was so willing to share.
As if on cue, his cell phone began buzzing. "Grissom." He listened for a several moments, not daring to look at Sara. "Okay, I'll be right there."
Motioning to his phone and still not looking at Sara, he said, "I got called in. That was Ecklie. Brass had his LVMPD bait car stolen by a man with a gun, who was the main suspect in a homicide that Greg handled last night. Sanders' evidence from the case was in the car. The shit's hitting the fan. Internal Affairs has been called in. I have to go." He threw his clothes on the bed, hurriedly pulling on some socks.
"A 411B, a 413, a 419, a 420, and a 443?" She inquired without thought when he finished dressing.
"Hmmm, your memory is improving," he said sadly and left her without further words.
THE END, but Keegan's story is still a WIP. All credit goes to her.