Chapter 26: An Evening of Beauty
She is stunning, absolutely gorgeous. My eyes roam over her body, and it's hard to bring them back to her face. It's so rare that I see her in anything other than jeans that I want to burn this image into my mind. Her long legs are bare, dainty black heels at one end, black skirt at the other. The skirt ends a few inches short of her knees, revealing more than I ever hoped for tonight, and the fabric is light, still bouncing even though she's still. Her top is a fiery red, matching her lips, and consists of a band of red fabric across her chest, covered with layers of see-through mesh that falls to form an erotic yet feminine picture. There is just a hint of make up, besides her full red lips, is framed by her hair, bouncing in its natural curl around her shoulders.
A blush starts to accompany the smile she met me with, yet her eyes don't drop shyly as I expect them to. She's examining me with the same voracity, if not more, that I have with her. She looks... hungry.
~~~~~~~~~~
The first things I notice about him are his eyes; they're sparkling tonight, brought out by the blue hues in his suit. The monochrome color scheme of navy and cerulean do something to make him stand out.
His eyes are roaming over my body now, almost like his caress that I've dreamt of so often. His breath catches, and I think I've done my work. The outfit has a feminine flair that soothes how revealing it actually is. I debated actually wearing it, but the look on his face now tells me I've made the right choice though I still feel slightly naked standing here.
There's something in his eyes that I haven't seen very often. I've seen it flash in them before, but the emotion passed so quickly that I could never identify it. Lately, however, it's been there more often and tonight I's the first thing I see in his eyes and in his body. He's relaxed, yet I'm sure his body is as alert as mine is; charged by our closeness. And then he does something I never see; he smiles.
He moves to the threshold of the door, wrapping an arm around my waist and whispering in my ear, "You look... absolutely breathtaking," before dropping a tiny kiss on my jaw line.
I feel the blush rising. I've been told I look nice, pretty, cute, and even once a guy who wanted to get into my pants in college told me I was beautiful. I was unprepared for this, though, and I finally mumble out a thank you. Looking into his eyes I can see that it's the truth, no simple line or pleasantry. Grissom has always chosen his words carefully; if he thought I looked pretty he would have said pretty. But he said breathtaking, and he means every letter of it.
His hand comes up to trace the features of my face, almost as if he's pushing the blush away. I take a deep breath and move to his ear.
"And you," I say, planting a similar kiss on his bearded jaw, "are positively debonair."
My words don't elicit a blush, but rather another smile. I think I could get used to seeing him smile more. He leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips, and I can't resist him. As he pulls away I reclaim his lips, wrapping my arms around him softly. There's leisure to our kisses; they're soft, sweet, short, and simply beautiful. I've never had a man treat me so reverently before; the way that he touches me, hold me, looks at me now... it's all more than I ever expected.
Finally, he pulls away, and I feel incomplete though he's only moved less than a foot.
"Well?" He asks.
"What?" I ask, lost in his eyes, and moving to wrap myself in his arms again.
He chuckles. "Well, as much as I enjoy necking like two teenagers at your front door, I believe I did come here to take you out on a date."
For the second time that night I blush. His presence does something unexpected to me; I fall into this tunnel vision where he's all that I can see, all I care about.
"Oh," I say stepping back, reaching into my apartment for my bags. Before I have a chance to shoulder the duffel with my work clothes in it, he takes it from my hand, placing it over his own shoulder wordlessly, leaving me with only my small purse and keys. We smile at each other as I lock the door, and he guides me to his car with a hand on the small of my back, and even opens the door for me.
~~~~~~~~~~
It's a fight to keep my eyes on the road. Already one of my hands has drifted from the wheel to hold hers as I'm driving. I glance over at every chance I get, soaking in the beauty she exudes. It's a relief now that I've allowed myself to enjoy her presence, to try this. It so much easier than I ever thought it would be; separating work and our personal time.
We're almost at the restaurant, and already I want to turn around and head right back home to ravish her. This may be our first date, but we've been dancing around each other for so long that this seems odd to be the beginning; it should be the middle of our relationship. Either way, though, I'm glad to have her here, next to me. It's still humbling to know that she wants to be here, with me... but she's reassuring me every moment we're together through the look in her eyes, her touches, the way she kisses me... I feel like I've really been granted a new lease on life in so many ways, and I will not waste it.
I have to pull my hand from hers to parallel park the car, and I get out quickly and round the car to open the door for her. Her smile as I do this is priceless and is worth more than anything in this world. I've gotten the distinct impression that she's not used to being treated like a lady, which is very sad. I secretly make that my mission tonight.
I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her into the small restaurant. It's family owned, one that I've heard of but never been to, and just off the beaten path enough that it is thankfully devoid of garish tourists. Sara quietly addresses the maitre de about reservations she's apparently made, and he says our table will be ready in a few moments. Stepping back in the alcove by the maitre de's podium, I take her into my arms as we wait.
As she relaxes into my embrace, I'm struck by how natural this is to us, how easily we've fallen together now, and how empty it seems without the other. I squeeze her a bit, and she squeezes back, words unnecessary.
~~~~~~~~~
The waiter finally leaves with our orders, and we're left blissfully alone. I reach a hand across the table and he folds his fingers into mine. Maybe it's how new all of this is, maybe it's just been that long since either of us was really involved this deeply with someone, but it seems that, at least tonight, it's almost physically painful to be separated. It makes me wonder what's going to happen when we get to work tonight and we have to return to acting like we're only the best of friends, and not as deeply involved as we are.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this," He utters quietly, and my heart skips a beat.
"What?" I ask, only reassured by the unfaltering look of love in his eyes.
"How I'm going to work tonight...every night... with you only a few feet away and not be able to touch you like I want to, to look at you like I want to, to say the things I want to, and to have to be your boss." He says quietly.
"Me either," I say, covering our hands with my other one. "How can I possibly walk around the lab pretending that I don't want to be in your arms, pretending I don't want you to touch me, pretending that we're not so much more than they think?" He nods, and I can almost see his brain working. It's funny; while some people I would imagine gears cranking for, others I would see computer chips buzzing in their heads, but not Grissom. I see Grissom as a true Renaissance man, and as such, I imagine some complex construct of parchment, windmills, and wood of Michelangelo's design turning smoothly in his mind; moving and routing information simply, and slowly but deftly constructing it until it lights up in his eyes and flows from his mouth as poetry.
"It won't be easy," he says, moving his second hand to capture both of my hands in his larger, warmer ones, "and we should probably try to keep this as quiet as we can for as long as possible. But it'll be worth it, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work."
It's simple poetry, as I expected, and so heavy with emotion and promise that I very nearly tear up. It's only fair that I reply with as much honesty.
"I know that this puts you in a much more precarious position than it does me, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes, also. You're not in this alone, so please," I'm almost quietly begging as I grasp his hands, "please don't start acting like you are."
"I can only try, Sara." He says with a sigh. He knows what I'm afraid of, and I'm starting to think he's afraid of it, too.
"Things are so much easier when we're working together," I add, letting a hand rub up and down his forearm.
"They are, aren't they?" He says with a smile.
I return his smile as the waiter returns with our meals. We dutifully untangle to let the waiter place the plates down.
~~~~~~~~~~
She is going to get it. I can't believe she's doing this! For the last fifteen minute she's been playing footsies with me under the table while carrying on a perfectly normal conversation. The box scores stopped working about ten minutes ago, so I've resorted to thinking about decomps, and I'm still not sure I'll be able to stand up any time soon. She knows what she's doing, too. She's smiling at me like the cat that swallowed the canary. And while at first it was fun, now it's just torture. This is just not fair.
The waiter comes to take our plates away, and before I can even open my mouth, Sara's already asked him for the check, blissfully removing her foot. As he moves away she reaches down to adjust the heel strap as she slips her shoe back on.
"No dessert?" I ask, still imagining decomps.
"Well, um, I was thinking that maybe we could go back to my place for dessert?" She asks cautiously, but with desire burning in her eyes this time. I raise my eyebrows at her, moving on to dismembered corpses. "If you want, that is..." She stumbles over her words as the waiter returns with the check. I simply hand him my credit card before he even puts the check on the table, and he's off again.
Dessert... at Sara's... It crosses my mind that she might actually be talking about food. A real dessert... but looking into her eyes I know I'm wrong: I'm dessert. I'm unaccustomed to this kind of scrutiny, to this feeling. But somehow, it's all right, because it's Sara and I feel the exact same way about her.
"There would be nothing I'd like more," I say. Sara smiles a huge smile, and I sign the receipt without thought. We both practically jump out of our seats, and I move to escort her out of the restaurant. Safely in the car, I reach across the seat and pull her to me, our lips crashing in a heated kiss full of passion and urgency. After a moment we pull away, breathless, and I start the car, speeding out into traffic.
After a moment I can feel her moving around beside me, and I hear the click of her seat belt being unfastened. I'd look, but the traffic is usually heavy for this time of night, and I'm not thinking clearly as it is. I settle for speaking her name, but not a second after I do I feel her hands on my shoulders, then her lips on my neck. It's all I can do to keep my eyes open and on the traffic. I reach my arm out to grab hold of her instinctively. Because of the way she's moved, my hand goes out under her, and when I finally find her my hand's landed on the outside of her right thigh. I can't even picture how she's contorted herself to do this, and her lips continue to assault my neck as her hands touch anything they can reach. I let my hand rub up and down her thigh a couple of times, amazed by how soft her skin is, but this isn't good. We can't do this.
She suddenly moves her assault up to my ear lobe, moaning before she whispers to me. "I want you so bad..." she hisses out. I groan out loud, knowing that there's nothing more that I want than her at this very moment, but we're still at least five minutes away from her apartment, and I'll never be able to get there like this. I can barely keep my eyes open and on the road, never mind even remembering how to get there.
"Stop," I mumble, gently pushing on her thigh, "you're going to get us both killed!"
"At least we'll die happy, then," she says in an uncharacteristic display of logic-blind lust, sucking my earlobe into her mouth.
"No," I say again, pushing her back. This time she complies with a groan of disapproval. She turns back around in her seat, and I let my hand settle on her left knee, just below where her skirt stops. " We'll die frustrated and unsatisfied. We've waited a long time, Sara, five minutes will not kill us."
~~~~~~~~~~
Whoever said revenge is a bitch was right.... Oh my God I think I may die. His hand stayed on my thigh as I buckled back up to prevent me from moving over to him again. I don't know what's come over me, but it's a side of me I've never felt, and it's exhilarating.
This is pure torture. At fist his hand just moved when the car moved, then he started making tiny circles with his fingers, and now it's slowly creeping under my skirt. It's all I can do to not buck my hips, this truly is pure torture. Dear God, can't we drive any faster?
~~~~~~~~~~
Turn about is fair play, my dear, I think as I quickly park in front of her complex. She's squirming in her seat, now; though I don't think she realizes it, and I haven't even done anything more than put my hand on her thigh. I don't even think she's noticed we've stopped moving. I rip the key from the ignition and jump out of the car. I see her eyes fly open as I round the car, opening the door for her. She tugs her seatbelt and takes my proffered hand to help her out of the car. As soon as her two feet are on pavement I pull her to me forcefully and press her between me and the car, taking control of her mouth. I feel more than hear the mutual groan we emit.
Our tongues twist together in an erotic dance as my hands find their way under her top to the soft flesh of her lower back. They rub circles, pulling her closer to me. I've never felt so alive, so uninhibited before; I want to have her, right here, right now- rules and work and public indecency be damned. I love this woman and I want everyone to know it. I pull away for a second, and lean my forehead against hers, nuzzling her face with mine, my lips dropping tiny kisses anywhere they find.
"I love you, Sara." I breathe out simply.
I feel her stop breathing.