Chapter Ten
Really Short Random Thoughts
Disclaimer et al see first chapter.
Prompts from KeeganElizabeth: fringe, collections, see-through, pirate, alone.
There had been women on the fringe of his life before Sara and even a couple after he realized he could never have the one he loved.
He thought of Heather Kessler, Charlotte Ross, Dr. Jane Gilbert, Terri Miller. They were good women, but not enough.
He'd even slept with the waitress Nicole a few times. She worked at the back alley club where he liked to play poker. But as much as he liked Nicole, she wasn't Sara.
And that fact was what finally pushed him into Sara's arms.
He quit playing poker; Sara was more than enough risk.
Mike Keppler wondered about the man who he had yet to meet, but who seemed to come between him and other members of the nightshift. The man's collections were just plain weird. The man was a legend in their field. The things in his office were bizarre, making the man suspect in his eyes.
Sara interrupted his investigation of Grissom's office.
After he left, he realized Grissom wasn't so strange after-all; merely a lucky son of a bitch if he was bedding the pretty CSI. He knew by the way she'd defended him.
It surprised him, no one else knew.
Grissom was shocked when he looked up from the case files to see Sara enter his office, wearing a gauzy see-through gown and nothing else.
He noticed her hard nipples and the triangular patch of dark hair that stood in stark contrast to the sheer material.
His cock stirred and hardened.
Then he panicked.
"My God, Sara. Someone might see you like that."
She walked seductively toward him.
"Shhh," she admonished, "We're not at work."
He gratefully realized they weren't at the crime lab, but at home in his study.
Her touch trailed over his chest, igniting his passion.
Gil knew Riley Adams was the perfect fit to his crew. The guys would accept her without prejudice as long as she could do the job. And she could according to her splendid recommendations. She was well qualified.
If only he could find another CSI, then he could go.
He was going to do it: up the ante, like he'd told Catherine. Steal away like a pirate in the night and go collect his booty. Not that Sara would like would like that analogy but he did want to plunder her again and again.
Very soon, dear. He silently promised.
Sara sat alone in the diner long after the others had left, sipping her seventh cup of coffee.
They'd all had something else to do: Catherine, to pick up Lindsey; Nick, a doctor's appointment; Greg, a date and Warrick went home to his wife.
Grissom hadn't shown up; but neither had Brass. Both had excuses: they were interviewing the latest scum bag suspect in the rape-murder of a college co-ed.
She felt the seat give with pressure and a voice suddenly filled her ear.
"Whatcha say we blow this joint, beautiful?"
Grissom helped her stand and they left together.
To be continued.
This is the half-way mark...Let me know if you are still enjoying these, because I'd hate that I wasted my time when I wrote the other ones and no one was interested...:)