A/N: I deeply apologize to everyone who has been reading this story for the long delay. On the 8th of July, I had to have emergency surgery and then developed an infection. This chapter is shorter than the others, but I did want to show everyone who has taken time out of their day to read this story that I am making the effort. Also it would appear this story will be longer than I had anticipated. Beta work performed by MSCSIFANGSR.

Chanel No. 5

Chapter Four

The two women stood in the entry way awaiting the man of the house to answer the door. Catherine Willows had rung the bell twice, but so far to no avail. Sara's thoughts were consumed by questions: Why had the killer left traces of Chanel No. 5 on all the victims? Why kill the whole family? What about Belinda Jacobson, was she collateral damage? Did the International Justice Mission have anything to do with the murders? So far, she had no answers to these questions.

She took a deep breath. Wonder why Grissom's not answering his door? I wish Catherine hadn't dragged me here. But I would love to see him in his natural habitat. She laughed to herself and realized how tired she really was.

Sara Sidle wasn't sure how much longer her body remain in the standing position before she completely keeled over. On the ride over, she knew she'd fallen a sleep for a few minutes, but she didn't feel rested or any better. There were still many things left for her to do before she allowed herself the luxury of sleep and she really wasn't sure when she'd even have to time to go home.

The longer they stood there, the more tense and agitated Sara became. What if he wasn't there? What if he was but wasn't alone? The second thought worried her tremendously. She realized she was becoming increasingly more emotionally attached to him. And she felt that she was setting herself up for more disappointment. He'd been emotionally available for her when he'd forced her confession several days ago, but since then he had returned to his normal unavailable self.

"You think he's here?" Sara asked as she reached up and placed her hand on the support column adorning the entrance to the seemingly endless row of townhouses. After a moment, she leaned her back up against it to ease her tired body.

Catherine punched the doorbell once again and thought she heard movement within the house. "Both of his vehicles are here, the Denali and his Mercedes, so maybe he's still sleeping," Catherine shrugged, then her attention was captured by a young couple coming out of a townhouse several doors down.

The two women didn't say anything else for several minutes, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Sara heard the sound of a throat being cleared behind them and literally jumped to attention at the sound of Gil Grissom's baritone voice, "Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Sara turned and looked at the man who was wearing only a pair red swimming trunks and a thick white Egyptian towel slung around his neck.

His chest was bare, tanned and completely took her breath away. She literally had to remind herself to breathe. All outward of signs fatigue disappeared from her posture and her curiosity was most definitely peaked.

She slowly took in his appearance starting with his feet, savoring the vertible feast before her eyes. His bare feet were long and bony; he wore ordinary white flip-flops to prevent the hot concrete from scorching the soles of his feet. The flip-flops were gray and pulling apart in several places and had definitely seen better days.

She gazed up along his calves to the obliviously bowed knees. 'Genu Varus' is the Latin term for this condition, her mind supplied quickly. His legs were hairless, tanned, and well muscled. The red trunks were long but didn't quite hide his muscular thighs. His thighs were the stuff her dreams and fantasies were made of. His quadriceps muscle was very defined and ripped. She noticed the trunks were somewhat baggy and the long white string hung down to the hem of the shorts.

His chest and stomach were larger than she'd anticipated, but in its natural state, it wasn't a bad thing at all. Grissom wasn't flabby in the least, although his stomach was somewhat paunched. His nipples were brown against his pecs and as her gaze continued upward, she could see lingering droplets of water in his beard. His blue eyes were staring back at her in question, instead of meeting them head on, she quickly broke her gaze and looked toward Catherine as if to say, It's her fault, she brought me here.

"Hey, Gil, there you are. Swimming to get in shape?" Catherine laughed and quickly changed the subject. "Gil, we need to talk."

Sara sighed. She'd never really believed she'd ever see a half naked Grissom, but what she saw put her fantasies to shame. The man is most definitely built. Oh my!

"I was. Yes, in fact, I swim everyday. My doctor recommended it to increase my cardiovascular health. Come on inside and tell me what it is that brought you two here today." Grissom reached his hand down into the waistband of his trunks and Sara's heart stopped for a moment. He retrieved a key from his hideaway pocket, then quickly unlocked the door and gestured for the two women to go inside ahead of him.

The air conditioning was set low in the house and Grissom visibly shivered as he closed the door behind him. Sara watched as he removed the towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist, leaving her disappointed. Catherine, she noticed was headed toward a row of shelves that held an assortment of nick-naks, framed pictures and cluttered books.

"But first, let me go change. Make yourselves at home. I won't be long." Grissom said as he stepped around them and made his way toward the hallway. "And Catherine, no snooping."

"Gil..." Catherine complained, but as soon as the word left her mouth, a large dog lifted his head up off the leather love-seat and growled. The boxer jumped off the couch and began menacingly walking toward the two women in earnest. The snarling intensified and Catherine made a quick dodging motion to duck behind Sara's body in a move that startled Sara.

"Heel!" Upon Grissom's command the dog immediately sat on its haunches. "Sorry Hank's not used to visitors. I can let him out on the patio while I'm changing if the two of you are uncomfortable with him. He shouldn't be a problem. He's a little grumpy when he gets woken up unexpectedly."

"Hank, huh? Where did you come up with a name like that Grissom?" Catherine asked as Sara had made her way toward the dog with an open palm so that the animal could smell her. The wetness of his lick across the palm of her hand startled her at first, then she quickly rubbed him behind the ears.

"Hammering Hank Aaron, of course."

Both women laughed, as the dog clearly loved getting his ears scratched. Sara looked up at Grissom who was making his way to the dog. "Griss, he can stay inside, that is, if Catherine doesn't mind." She looked at the strawberry blonde was shrugged her shoulders in response. "We'll make friends with Hank and you can get changed. It's okay."

"If you're sure?" Grissom looked at Sara who had now bent down on her knees so she could be on eye level with his dog. Hank was attempting to lick Sara in the face. Sara could see the smile on Grissom's face as she attempted to avoid the canine kisses. She smiled back at Grissom and in the mean time, Hank took the opportunity and licked her across the lips. Grissom couldn't seem to draw his attention away from Sara and his dog.

"I'm sure. I believe Hank and I will get along fine." Sara cooed, "You're a good boy, Hank. Yes, you are."

Grissom looked to Catherine, who'd managed to step up and sit onto one of the barstools at the bar separating the living room and the kitchen, to see if she minded the dog staying with them. She looked curiously at him, but interrupted any comment that may have come from him, "Gil, your vodka and orange juice are safe. I'm on the clock. Go get cleaned up. We've got quite the story to tell you."

To be continued in the next chapter.