Disclaimer: As ever, they aren't mine. They're yours, CBS, and I'll thank you for setting them on a similar course as this story, if you would be so kind. Lyrics are Kelly Clarkson's.
Sara
Three months and I wake up
Our bedroom is as dark as the yard, the only light from the hall, spilling just across the threshold that we have stepped across together, Grissom guiding me backwards until my knees made contact with the bed and he could lay me down, the sweetest, strongest action. I am constantly turned on by the knowledge that he could lift me clean off my feet if he wanted to. I don't need to be literally swept, but sometimes, the power and the passion of his gaze as he compels me into one of our moments leaves me with no doubt that if any man could, this is the one. The only one.
I had never been breathless until I kissed this man, and I am breathless now. He makes me shake. His hands are under my head, holding, cradling me, kissing me deeply as he settles somewhere above me. There is the soft rustle of cloth on cloth as we move, slowly for now, intensity building gradually as we each try to process what has just happened.
The words he has said have turned me to jelly. He let out the biggest sigh of relief at my answer, as if, in his mind, there was doubt. As if I didn't make that decision years ago. Other words are collecting in my throat, all the things that I want to tell him, everything he awakens in me. He bows his head to trace a slow path down my neck, his lips so warm and tender, and I arch slightly in response. When he reaches my chest he lifts his eyes to meet mine, and I have to speak. Here in the dark there is nothing left to keep back.
"I have loved you since the day I met you," I tell him, my voice low in our quiet chamber, placing a small kiss on his lips before I continue, "and I will love you until the day I die."
There is a glistening reflection in his eyes, caught by the light from the open door. It could be tears, I don't know, and I don't mind not knowing. His emotions are so clear to me now. He kisses me by way of response, and slides my shirt off my shoulders. I shrug out of it and push his down his back, too, until they fall to the floor in a soft heap. His skin is hot as it presses down on mine, and I pull him as close as close can be.
"Sometimes I still can't believe you're mine," he says, his mouth at the edges of my bra, nudging, promising. Another moment and it joins my shirt on the floor.
"Likewise," I breathe, as the pile of clothes grows and we are, at last, naked, together. We lie there, enjoying the sensation, for a moment or two, and then Grissom reaches over my head onto the bedside table. He takes my hand.
"Does this help?" He asks, and there is a ring on my finger. My heart stops. My other hand covers my mouth, keeping in what would be something between a sob and a laugh. I stare, in the half light, at the symbol of everything that I have. The reason I made it out of the desert, the reason I even came to this city in the first place.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, clutching him to me, as tightly as I can. He buries his face in my hair, holding me, and I am smiling, smiling into the dark room.
"Yeah," I whisper, smile turning to a gasp as he closes the one remaining gap between us, sending heat coursing through me.
"Yes," I say again, as we move together. Its all I've ever wanted to say to him.