A/N: Many thanks to piccolina789, for beta reading.
A police officer was just coming out of the derelict house that served as that night's crime scene as both Sara and Grissom approached. As they drew closer, the officer ran past them, a hand clamped over his mouth. Grissom quirked an eyebrow as he glanced at Sara, as they continued into the house.
Grissom moved slightly ahead of her, entering the house first. As she followed after him, the smell was the first thing to assail her nostrils as she looked around the crime scene, and unusually for her, felt bile rise from the pit of her stomach. She'd been feeling a little off for a few days, but until this moment had managed to keep the nausea under control. Her stomach churned once more and Sara swallowed several more times, fighting the wave of nausea.
The body lay on the living room floor of the derelict house, by a large window. Judging by the level of decomposition, not to mention the odour, the body had been there for a few days at least.
"Body dump?" Sara suggested, noting the lack of blood surrounding the body and again tried to hide her discomfort, as the smell of the decomp permeated the air.
She barely heard Grissom's reply, as the churning in her stomach proved too much for her to handle. Turning she quickly left the house, and just managed make it to the edge of the property, to vomit without contaminating the crime scene.
Grissom followed her out, but allowed her some privacy before turning the corner. She turned to face him, as she straightened up, looking both apologetic and sheepish at the same time.
"You gonna be ok?" he asked, a hint of concern edging his voice, as he watched her closely. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never seen her react like this.
"I'm okay," she nodded, willing the writhing in her stomach to still. She bent to pick up her kit, and instantly regretted it, as another nauseous wave swept over her.
Grissom stepped closer; the lazy flash of the red and blues of the police cars out front hadn't prevented Grissom from seeing the colour drain from Sara's face. He grabbed her arm, letting his concern show.
"Honey, you don't look so good," he said. " Go back to the lab, I'll get Greg to replace you here, and you can help Nick process the car from last night."
Sara wanted to protest that she'd be fine, but the look of concern on Grissom's face stopped her.
"Dear, if you aren't feeling well, this really isn't the place to be," he continued. "In fact, take the night off, and see how you are tomorrow."
"Its just a stomach bug," she protested. "I can still work…"
Grissom shook his head. "Go home, Sara," he insisted, in a tone he rarely used with her. "I'll call later, see how you're holding up."
Sara knew when she was defeated. With a heavy sigh she slowly nodded her head, looking far from happy over the situation, as she headed back towards the Denali.
Grissom pulled into the driveway of his apartment building and switched off the engine, before closing his eyes with a sigh, and resting his head against the backrest.
It had been a tough shift and for once, Grissom was relieved that work was over. The decomp was proving more difficult to identify, than Grissom first thought. At least he knew one thing - the two bullets Doc Robbins had pulled from the body confirmed the John Doe's cause of death.
He opened his eyes with another sigh, and glanced up at the building as thoughts of Sara crossed his mind, wondering if she were feeling any better, since he'd last called her.
When he entered the apartment, it was cool and inviting. As he set his keys on the counter in the kitchenette, he sensed rather then heard movement behind him, breaking him from his thoughts. He turned to find Sara standing by the stairs, wearing a thin flowered dressing gown that hugged her lithe frame. She half smiled.
"Hey," she greeted, before walking over to meet him.
"Hey. Feeling any better?" he asked, as she neared him. Although still pale, she seemed much better than she had at the crime scene.
"Yeah, it was a one-time thing. You know, I could have stayed, we're short as it is."
"We managed," Grissom answered titling his head slightly. He could smell a hint of lemon in her hair, from her shower. "And you're entitled to a sick day, once in awhile," he continued as he drew her closer.
He cupped her face, his lips brushing against hers, with a feather-light touch. As he pulled her more tightly against his body, her hands travelled up his jacket, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other on the back of his head, as the kiss deepened.
They parted only when the need for air, became necessary. Grissom rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "I missed you," he admitted, his voice low and soft.
Sara smiled again. They'd been together nearly sixteen months, and he still found it hard to express how he was feeling. But he was trying. Besides, there were other ways than words. She rested her hand against his cheek, his neatly trimmed beard, prickling the skin of her palm. "It shows."
The last rays of the sun filtered through the partly open curtains, of Grissom's bedroom. He lay on the bed, his arms wrapped around Sara, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
Before they knew it, it would be time for work, and the pretence would have to begin again.
Grissom shifted into a more comfortable position, at the same time dipping his head, as he captured Sara's mouth with his own.
Sara returned the pressure, grasping at the chance for any last minute contact. He's lips moved from her mouth to her neck. His lips moved down her neck, trailing kisses from her jaw down to the spot behind her ear that made her shiver, his hands exploring her body. She gasped as he nibbled her ear lobe, their breathing quickening.
Grissom's phone rang, but he ignored it, finding Sara's mouth again, instead, his tongue seeking and then gaining entrance, entwining with hers.
The cell phone silenced, only to be followed by the home phone.
"It could be important," Sara broke off the kiss with a gasp.
"This is important, " muttered Grissom, now turning his attention to her breasts.
From downstairs, came the muffled but urgent sounds of hammering on the front door. Grissom's cell phone rang again. Then, more muffled hammering on the door.
The mood broken, Grissom rose off the bed, with an irritated sigh. He shrugged into his bathrobe, casting an apologetic look in Sara's direction.
"This better be good," muttered Grissom as he opened his door to find Brass standing outside.
Brass' face was deadpan, as he quirked an eyebrow. "Hope I wasn't interrupting?" he asked as he stepped into the apartment.
"You were," stated Grissom, letting his irritation show.
Brass did a double take at the tone.
"Hope it wasn't something too important."
"It was."
Grissom headed over to the kitchenette and Brass followed after him, watching as Grissom set about making some tea.
"A body's been found up by Lake Mead," Brass decided on getting down to business. It wasn't often Grissom showed his irritation, and when he did, it had to be serious. "It's just your thing; a bug-fest."
Grissom sighed and ran a hand through his rumbled hair.
"I'll be ten minutes."
He headed towards the stairs, just as a floorboard creaked upstairs, followed by muffled sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.
Grissom turned to Brass, with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, knowing that he had heard it too.
Again, Brass raised an eyebrow. "You have a houseguest?" he questioned, surprised.
"I do have them occasionally," Grissom responded, as though it wasn't out of the realms of possibility. He headed towards the stairs just as Sara, wrapped in her dressing gown, came down them.
Brass was just in the middle of apologising again, when he saw Sara from the corner of his eye.
"Hey, Sara," he greeted automatically.
He turned his attention back to Gil, before a frown crossed his face, followed by surprise. He looked from one to the other, piecing everything together, and what exactly he's unexpected arrival had interrupted. Brass' jaw dropped slightly and he murmured the only thing he could think of, "Well it's about damn time."