Chapter Three

They arrived at Sara's house a few minutes later. Grissom parked the car and shut off the engine. The pair exited the SUV and headed into the house. Once inside, Sara gave Grissom a kiss on the lips. The man kissed her back and steered her towards the bedroom. After they crossed the threshold, they broke apart breathing hard.

"Go to bed." the man said gently.

"Stay with me." The woman murmured, her voice held the edge of a sleepy purr.

"You need to sleep. If I stay with you, we won't be sleeping."

She smiled and raised her eyes to his. "Please?"

"Tempting, darling, very tempting."

Sara pouted briefly, then sighed in defeat. "Be that way."

The woman backed away from him and began to strip off her clothes. Grissom watched, unable to tear his gaze away. She smiled the smile of a smug woman.

"Still opposed to staying?"

"Against every molecule in my body." He stated, his blue eyes blazing with an intense fire, "You just had to do that, didn't you."

"Oh, yeah." The woman, clad in her bra and panties, smirked and headed across the room to her dresser and pulled out a silky nightgown.

"Now you're killing me." Grissom groaned.

She smiled, yawned, and donned the nightgown. "Good!"

"Sleep now." He said, "Then I'll take you to dinner before work."

"Sounds good."

She walked back over to him and kissed him again; longer and more passionate. When they parted, she gave him a slight push away from her.

"If you don't leave now, I will tie you up and have my way with you."

"And that proposition is suppose to make me push away from her.

"And that proposition is suppose to make me want to leave?" Grissom asked.

"It started out that way, but now I know you'll just enjoy it."

The man just smiled angelically.

"Get out!" she said with gentle finality.

He never lost his smile as he brushed a quick kiss against her lips and walked out. Sara smiled as his figure vanish from view and collapsed onto her bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.

When Grissom returned to the lab, he headed to the morgue. Doc Robbins had the woman on the slab; covered by a white sheet from the collarbone down. The pathologist was across the room at his desk, typing up his report.

"Did we I.D. our Jane Doe?" Grissom asked.

Robbins turned and gave him a smile. "Yep. Chelsea Donovan, age 33."

"Cause of death?"

The older man grabbed his cane and got up. He limped over to the table and gestured his hand.

"Blunt force trauma. She fought back, though. There are defensive wounds on her arms and hands, bruises and cuts. She also had sex before she died."

"Any fluids?"

"No. Perp used a condom." Replied the doctor, "Any guesses to what happened?"

"Lover's quarrel gone wrong, perhaps." Grissom sighed, "We have little evidence to what happened…I'm not ruling out anything, except for natural causes."

"Mmm."

"See you later, Doc." The supervisor said, leaving Robbins to finish his work.

"Oh, Gil?' the other man called out, stopping him at the door.

"Yes?"

"Did you or Sara scrape under the girl's nails?"

Grissom furrowed his brows. "No, why?"

"The underside of the nail showed evidence of being scraped post-mortem."

"Huh." The man exited the morgue; his brows still furrowed in thoughtfulness.

On his way to his office, Grissom met up with Warrick.

"Hey, Griss." The tall CSI said with a smile, "How long did it take you to talk Sara into going home."

"Not long, surprisingly. But she didn't want to sleep when she got there."

"Figures." Warrick rolled his eyes, "Well, I'm off to meet Cath."

"Have fun." Replied his boss, "I have to tackle a mountain of paper work."

"Ah, the joys of being supervisor."

Grissom gave him a not-too-friendly look, which made the man laugh heartily as they parted ways.