This is where it starts earning the M. Short, for meanness' sake. I'll try to get another one out soon.

Sunday night

Sara's version

Greg was on his side facing away from me, his breathing still ragged. He was clearly turned on, a fact that excited me. I should have ignored him, should have turned away and tried to find sleep. I should have done any number of things, anything but what I actually did.

"Greg," I whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah." Long pause, then he turned to face me. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you would... kiss me..."

That fierce, hungry look I saw earlier swept over him, and he licked his lips. "You sure that's a good idea?" he asked softly, moving toward me as he spoke.

"No, I'm not, but I want it. If you do."

"You know I do." This said against my lips, right before he covered the in a soft, probing kiss. I parted my lips, and his tongue slipped in as the kiss turned hot and hungry. I answered him eagerly, my tongue stroking over his as he explored my mouth. Sensual fire spread through me. I could feel him pressed insistently against my hip, and it inflamed me that I affected him like this. He moved his lips to my ear, my neck, and I moaned helplessly. "Oh, Sara," he whispered against my tender throat. "You don't know what you do to me." He grasped the edge of my top and slowly moved it upward to bare my chest. Then he slipped down and rained kisses across my breasts, then gently suckled first one, then the other.

I was gasping and moaning within minutes, the rising tide of arousal within me an overwhelming force. It was so overwhelming, in fact, that the ringing of the telephone almost didn't register, and once it did the damned thing had stopped ringing. Greg pulled back for a moment, and I was about to pull him backto mewhen my cellphone started tweeting like some kind of deranged canary. I sat up, pulled my shirt down, and grabbed it off the nightstand.

"Sidle," I snarled.

Long pause. "Well, hello to you to, Sara." Grissom, of course; his voice smug and a little surprised. "I was going to ask you how things were going, but it doesn't sound like that would be a good idea."

"Things are going fine, Grissom. I was just busy." Greg got up off the bed, emitting a loud telltale squeak as he did so. Another moment and he was in the bathroom.

"Sounds like it. Well, I'll let you go get back to, um, whatever it was you were doing then. I'll see you two Saturday night."

"Fine. Buh-bye." I pushed the END button and threw the cellphone on the bed. "Damn it!"

Sunday night

Greg's version

Next time I see Grissom I swear I'm going to shove a cellphone up his ass. Better yet, maybe I'll find one of those old-fashioned rotary ones and use that. I swear the man is psychic, because I was just getting ready to send one of my hands on a nice slow southern reconnaissance mission when bam, Grissom calls. I should be extensively exploring her sweetest places right now, but no, here I am taking an ice-cold shower. Thanks, boss. I really thought the Pinto limo was you giving us your worse, but you managed somehow to step it up another notch.