Hello friends. Welcome back.

I've been working on this piece since before I got locked out of my old account (gsrasalways)... and had to try and re write the beginning of it from memory. Yikes!

The idea has always been the same - it's a "how they got together" story because I seem to be drawn to writing that over and over and exploring all of the possibilities.

I think we can all agree their relationship changed after Nesting Dolls.. but I don't think they were physical until after Grave Danger.. so this is where that story starts.

Grissom POV again, because I've even enjoying writing his mind lately. I think he made the first move, but was in denial the entire time. I hope I captured that here.

Rating: This story is a VERY STRONG T, even possibly an M. Please read responsibly. There is a little bit of sweet smut.. and it's a little out of my comfort zone, so bare with me.

I don't own CSI, or these characters.. just my day dreams.

Enjoy, friends.

GSR, As Always.

An Inevitably Bad Idea

I knew it was going to be a bad idea from the minute I turned the key in the ignition, restarting my Denali. I'd been home, sitting in the drive way for no more than two minutes before her face, her eyes, flashed back into my mind and I was rendered powerless to my own actions. It was as if I were under a spell and on autopilot.

She had been quiet on the drive back from the scene. Just calling it that makes me nauseous. Greg had offered her a ride, but she ended up with me.

She always does. I shouldn't have been surprised.

Maybe she agreed to my offer because she knew I wasn't going to make her talk or listen to some kind of upbeat music on the way back to her apartment.

Maybe she was more willing to drive with me because we had been getting closer the last few months. We had become friends again.

Ever since she told me about her family, her childhood, I felt a deeper connection with her. Not one of pity, but rather a deeper understanding of how she worked, and why. I felt an impossibly strong draw to her.. as if I finally had all of the pieces I needed to put the puzzle together and really get her.

We'd shared a few breakfasts since then. A few private conversations at crime scenes that we never would have dared to have before. A few more flirtatious jokes. A few more lingering looks.

Her Prius was, and still is, at the lab... but I told her I would just take her home and we'd worry about the car tomorrow. Where before our friendship began to improve she'd normally fight me on it, insist she was fine and could drive herself, she simply nodded silently with a weak half smile and glanced out the passenger side window.

Dropping her off felt almost painful. My body physically ached.

She quietly, in a very un-Sara like way, asked if I wanted to come in for a glass of whiskey, to which I replied with a friendly no, and she just nodded, avoided eye contact, thanked me for the ride, and got out.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can... maybe we can grab breakfast.." She said quietly. Her voice was thick with exhaustion and defeat.

It was probably a bad idea to idle in my car for a few minutes while I watched her walk up to her apartment door and let herself in and then wait a few moments more for her living room light to turn on through the window... but after the night we had experienced, I needed to make sure she got in safely.

I knew it was a bad idea when I arrived back outside her apartment in the same visitor's spot I'd been in not twenty five minutes prior, and found myself staring at the same window.

I kept waiting for her to turn out the light.

If she turned out the light, it meant she was going to bed, and I couldn't possibly interrupt her then.

Even though I knew she could function on an inhuman amount of rest, I knew tonight of all nights, she'd need it.

I sat, in my dark car, for at least fifteen, maybe even twenty more minutes. Glancing between the clock on my dash and her window. 3:02am. Light still on. 3:07am. Light still on.

I knew it was an awful, horrible mistake when I finally pushed myself to get out of the car and walk to her complex door, and let myself in. I know her building PIN because it's in her file and despite everything, all of our miscommunications and awkward moments, I'm her emergency contact. I have been since she moved here five years ago, when she "knew no one in the city."

I've been here before, after all, so I know my way to her door.

I stood there, staring at her door for what seemed like hours, rolling my tongue around in my dry mouth.

This was a bad idea.

What was I supposed to say?

"I'll take that coffee now?" Forty five minutes later? After I've already been home and come back?

Almost without my own permission, I knocked on her door quietly, maybe subconsciously hoping she wouldn't hear it.

But she did.

I could hear her feet shuffle towards the door, and could almost picture her in my mind's eye as I heard her look through the peep hole.

Who else could it be, though, really?

I knew it was a mistake when she opened the door and the scent of some kind of peaches and cream body wash wafted directly into my senses, and saw her standing with wet, curling hair in an old, well worn fluffy robe.

Worse, even, she had not a stitch of makeup on, so I could see every last freckle on her face. Places where the sun had been privileged enough to have kissed her in her 33 years of life.

I've always been infatuated by her freckles.

I don't know how long I stood there, speechless, staring at her and allowing myself to be absorbed by the scent and sight of her freshly showered presence, but I do know she didn't look surprised to see me.

Something felt innately different this time, standing in her doorway.

Her face was actually rather emotionless, as she eventually stepped to the side, opened the door wider and allowed me room to enter. She didn't speak. Her apartment was eerily silent.

Once again, without my permission, my body took over and my feet lead me into her warm purple and orange coloured living space, and before I knew it I heard her closing and locking the door behind me.

A quick glance around told me she had only just gotten out of the shower, and just settled onto the couch with a cup of tea that was still steaming and a blanket that was half on the floor.

I remember sensing her behind me, in a deeply intimate proximity, and then feeling her warm hand on my shoulder as she spoke softly,

"Are you ok?"

I turned around to meet her gaze, and could see the trauma.. the complete exhaustion in her puffy red rimmed eyes. In fact, I was certain she had been crying not long before, probably in the shower, by the look on her face and the rosiness of her cheeks.

I briefly wondered if my own face mirrored hers, except my face also probably resembled that of a lost animal looking for comfort because when her palm came to my cheek we both heard the hitch in my breath.

Her hand was warm on my skin.

It burned in the most wonderful way.

I couldn't help but close my eyes and lean into her touch for a moment, before snapping back to reality.

This was a bad idea.

This was Sara.

But that's why I had come, wasn't it?

This was Sara.

She...

She was Sara.

She was soft and tender. Magical. Full of empathy and passion. Bursting with a contagious anger and emotion that lit a fire in me so deep, sometimes I thought it would engulf me completely. She was deeply sensual, and impossibly intoxicating. She consumed every waking moment of my life these days, and now even my dreams were infiltrated with her smile and her chocolate brown eyes.

Her eyes were what brought me back here. Back to her.

"How's your head? Did they give you a proper assessment after the first explosion? Have you taken your migraine medication?" Her voice was husky, low, but still laced with genuine concern as her thumb ran over my temple.

I let out a soft chuckle with a half smile, and then realized she must think I'm concussed to actually be here, standing in front of her in her robe, unfazed, alone in her apartment at 3:30am, letting her touch my face.

Maybe I did suffer a head injury.

Maybe that was the reason for my string of bad decisions.

Either way, I simply shook my head and replied, "My head is fine."

She nodded, and winced. She was trying to figure me out - answer the question she hadn't dared to ask yet.

"Griss.." her bare feet shuffled, and she took back her hand, and instinctively wrapped her arms around her torso protectively. I recognized it as something she did when she was uncomfortable, or trying to conceal her emotions.

"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come back." I mumbled, as I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes tightly.

"Well, you're here now.. and it's late, and you're tired." She sighed, and I heard her move away from me towards her small apartment kitchen.

When I opened my eyes I saw her, back turned to me, her damp hair even curlier than it was moments ago as it began to dry, and heard her pouring water from the kettle into a mug.

I watched her as she shuffled back towards me with the steaming cup of what smelled like peppermint tea, and with sad eyes, reach her arm out to offer it to me. "Drink this, and then you can try and rest. You're in no condition to drive home again."

God, she was beautiful.

Everything about her.

Every single inch.

Every single freckle on her cheek and fleck of gold in her eyes.

Whether she was dressed for work, or dressed for the privacy of her own home in a robe.. she was breathtaking.

She was Sara.

Again, before I could even stop myself, my right palm found her warm cheek and in an instant my lips crashed down to hers.

Desperation.

She was still holding the cup of boiling hot tea as my left hand dove into the wetness of her curls behind her neck and my tongue slid across her bottom lip, a silent plea for entry.

With a barely audible moan, she obliged, and opened her mouth to mine and eagerly reciprocated the kiss as she moved her body even closer to mine. Closer than she'd ever been before.

She tasted like mint tea and honey and Sara. She was deliciously addicting and I remember thinking to myself that I could happily drown or suffocate in her kiss and not have any regrets at all, only that I hadn't kissed her sooner.

I could feel the heat radiating off of her, through her robe, and felt an intense urge to undo the knot at her waist and rip it off of her and touch her.

Thankfully, my mind stopped me, and I reluctantly released her lips and stepped back, ever so slightly, to compose myself. Breathe.

This had to be a bad idea, right?

When I looked at her, her delicious pink lips were swollen and agape, her eyes were still blissfully closed and she stood with a slight wobble.

Like a woman who had just been thoroughly kissed.

Remembering the mug of tea in her hands, I secured it before she dropped it or spilled it on herself, and absentmindedly placed it on her coffee table behind us before quickly returning my attentions to her.

Her eyes were open now, and they were dark, staring straight at me. I couldn't pin point if her eyes were filled with astonishment, arousal, anguish or anger.. so I surmised maybe a little bit of each.

She didn't say anything, though, as she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. A small, dark room about ten feet down the hall to the right. The only light was that of the street lamps through her window and the warm glow of the kitchen down the hall.

She was silent as she closed the door behind us, cutting off the kitchen glow, forgetting about our drinks, and turned back to face me with a small, shy grin as her hands found the belt on her robe. She was nothing but a shadow in front of me, glowing in the light from the window.

The room was quiet as she untied the belt it and let it fall to the ground, pooling around her feet, and let the rest of the garment fall open to reveal her pale, milky torso, the glowing and tempting valley between her breasts, and her intimately dark curls.

Bare.

Absolutely nothing underneath, as one would naturally expect after showering in the privacy of their own home, not anticipating any visitors.

The only sound in the room was the hitch in my breath as she stepped closer to me, and her fingers found the nape of my neck. She gave me a small, sad smile in the darkness.

"Sara." I barely mustered, before my lips were drawn back to hers as if we were magnetized together.

Now that I had tasted her once, I was addicted.

Hopelessly drawn into her warmth.

This time the kiss was slow and tender, full of unspoken words and emotion. She whimpered and opened her mouth to me immediately, and when my hand found her hip, her bare skinned silky hip, she moaned into my mouth.

I decided then and there, that no matter how bad of an idea it may be, I wanted to swallow every single delicious moan she uttered for the rest of my life.

It was her fingers that found the buttons on my shirt first, but her shaky hand struggled, so I stepped in and made quick work of them as she let out a small chuckle and her lips danced on my bearded jawline.

Once my shirt was off, she had no problem helping me eagerly lift the t-shirt underneath over my head.

Before I even had a chance to be self conscious of my aging, slightly rounded gut, her hands and lips were all over me. Tracing over my sides, on my chest, squeezing my shoulders and pecks, running down my arms.

She touched me desperately, as if she had waited her whole life for this moment, and she squeaked with pleasure as her finger tips burned my skin.

It wasn't until my own hands started to instinctively explore her torso, working my way up to her breasts, still somewhat hidden by the fabric of her robe, that what we were doing sunk in. I could feel her heartbeat under my thumb that rested just below her small left breast.

Her lips were on my neck, her sighs in my ears, when my mind realized again that this was a very bad idea.

We were both tired and emotionally compromised from the evening.

"Sara, Sara, honey, wait. Stop." I sighed as I tried to gently put some distance between us, backing up ever so slightly.

Her stunned, wide eyes snapped up to mine, and the darkness disappeared. The arousal was quickly replaced with confusion, and maybe even a hint of betrayal and disappointment. She looked vulnerable. Her swollen, pink lips were so beautifully moist with our shared fluids and her cheeks agonizingly flushed.

"This was a bad idea, Sara." I muttered, my head shaking in pathetic apology.

"You said that already." She spoke, her voice low and raspy, "And then you kissed me."

"I know." I nodded, my eyes unable to stop themselves from glancing at her head to toe. I could see her pulse in her neck and see her chest rise and fall with each laboured, aroused breath. She must have felt my hardness against her. She must have known how equally aroused I was.

"So what is it?" Her voice was level. Almost too calm. I had expected there to be a hint of anger in her voice, but there wasn't. Just a calm resignation. As if she had almost expected me to back out of this.

"Sara.." I sighed, looking at her bare feet. "I don't want to take advantage of our exhaustion and emotional states..."

"You are not taking advantage. Just tell me what you need, Grissom." She breathed, this time with a hint of sadness that brought my eyes back up to hers. When I caught her gaze, the unshed tears in her eyes were like a dagger to my heart.

I flexed my hands at my side nervously,

"You." I whispered. "I need you."

"I'm right here." She shrugged with a small smile. She didn't even question me or my intentions.

"If we.. honey, if we do this... everything is going to change." I swallowed.

She simply nods again, "Hasn't it already?"

I know she's right... but she continues,

"If we stop now, then what? Do you really think we can just go back to whatever we were before?" Her brown eyes search my face, "I just go back to work and pretend I didn't feel your arousal against my leg and your fingers in my hair? And you can honestly just go back to being my boss like you didn't just kiss me in my bedroom and put your hands on my body?"

The tears welled in her eyes, and I could tell she was close to shedding them, and that's the last thing I wanted to do by coming here: make her cry. Instinctively, my hand reached to cup her cheek and she flinched at my touch, but didn't back away.

"Either way, things have changed, Grissom." She cleared her throat, and lifted a hand to place on top of mine, "If you say you need me, then I'm right here. I've always been right here.. and I will still be here tomorrow, regardless of what happens or doesn't happen tonight."

"Do you want this?" I heard my own self conscious voice say, quietly, "Do you really want this, Sara? Because once we.. this isn't just a one night thing for me. And this isn't just because of what happened..."

She let out a quick laugh that made my heart skip a beat and flashed me a goofy smile that turned my knees to jelly, "Have I not been obvious enough the last few years, Gris?"

She took a step closer and removed her hand from mine and returned them both to their place on my chest. One palm on each breast.

"I have never wanted anything or anyone more in my entire life, Gil. You must know that by now."

The first time she used my name. Not Grissom. Not Gris.

Gil.

I breathed with a nod, and then leaned in to kiss her lips again ever so gently.

"I want you." She whispered, barely audible, against my mouth. Slowly, she rolled the robe off of both of her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor in a messy pile. She stood infront of me, completely naked and shivered as she whispered, "Please."

That was what set me off.

That was what ignited the flame in my bosom, and I couldn't resist the deeply primal urge that sent shocks through my body. I touched her. My hands were all over her.

I cupped her breasts and twisted her perfectly pink nipples between my thumbs and fingers ever so gentle and the near yell that escaped her throat almost undid me right there.

My right hand laced through the damp hair behind her neck as my lips crashed down to hers again, finally, and I backed us up towards the bed.

When her knees hit the mattress I gently laid her down, my hands behind the small of her back, her legs draped gently over the edge, and knelt in-front of her. I wanted to worship her.

With my warm hands on her cool knees, I began to trail kisses along the inside of her painfully long thighs and felt her twitch and shake under each scrape of my beard. Each kiss brought me closer and closer to her fragrant center and it was driving me wild.

When I was about two kisses away from her folds she lifted herself up onto her elbows to watch me, I grinned, and she simply nodded her permission with dark eyes in her dark room.

If this whole progression of events really was a bad idea, it was the best worst idea I'd ever had because when my tongue slid between her wet folds and I tasted her salty sweet wetness everything collapsed around me. Nothing else mattered.

She grunted and nearly screamed as I nipped and licked and kissed her most intimate area, and eventually she collapsed back down to the mattress from her elbows and her long fingers found my hair desperately. She pulled, a little too hard, but it was a pain I would gladly endure over and over if it meant I could taste Sara Sidle and hear the raw and primal sounds she was making as I did so.

I could feel her pulse in her bundle of nerves against my tongue and from the tension that was building in her thighs I could tell she was close to that glorious, explosive release.

A part of me wanted to stop, to be inside her as she came for the first time, but another much more primitive part of me wanted to taste her on my tongue as she released.. so that's what I did.

I added my fingers into the mix, and within seconds she was screaming my name and other profanities into the air, her thighs shaking and nearly suffocating me.

My god, I'd never seen a more beautiful sight in my life.

I slowed my ministrations and looked up at her as she rode out her climax, her eyes shut tight, and watched as her body came down from that glorious high. She twitched, ever so slightly, and it made me smile against her folds.

I did that to Sara.

I made her tremble and lose control.

I made her scream my name and words I'd never heard her use before.

Her eyes still closed and her mouth still open and trembling, I felt her sweaty palms find the sides of my face and pull me up to her parched lips.

"You are so beautiful." I heard myself whisper in amazement.

She kissed me with a smile, hard, and I was certain she could taste herself on my lips as she moaned into me. It was hot.

After a moment, her hands were on my belt and she was undoing it with expert precision. It was off in an instant, and apparently so were my slacks, because before I knew it I was laying atop of her, higher up on the bed, and her hands were stroking me through my damp boxers.

The first time she touched me with her long, cool fingers I grunted. I couldn't help the sound that instinctively rumbled from my chest. It was like a dream come true. My grunt apparently pleased her because I felt her smile against my lips.

I'd always wondered what her hands.. her fingers.. would feel like on me, and the reality was so much better than the fantasy.

She continued to kiss me as her hands slipped into my boxers and she touched me, skin to skin. I genuinely wonder, still, how I didn't spill myself all over her hand right there.

The next several minutes were all a bit of a beautiful, hasty blur.

When I slipped into her, she let out a high pitched sigh of what I can only describe as immense relief, and I had to pause with my head in the crook of her neck to compose my emotions and breathe. I'd never heard her usually deep and composed voice so high and vulnerable.

We went from furious, desperate, horny and lustful to slow and intimate, tender and passionate in an instant.

This all meant so much more than either of us had been willing to grasp, until the moment I saw her tear filled eyes meet mine with a small smile.

"Are you ok?" I whispered, my voice unrecognizable and hushed as I willed myself not to move my hips into her before she was ready. She felt so wonderfully sweet around me, and I didn't want to break the spell of the moment.

The tears welled in her eyes even more, and one fell, trailing down her beautiful freckled cheek as she nodded and reached up to kiss me slowly.

"Sara.." I whispered against her mouth as I slowly began to move within her. Her trembling hands found my back and her legs wrapped around my waist as she welcomed me into her most private anatomy with every slow thrust.

My body wanted desperately to just take her. Thrust instinctively and powerfully, bringing us both to a quick and intensely aggressive release. I wanted to hear her scream my name again.

Instead, my heart and my mind wanted to love her. I wanted to slowly drive myself home with each methodical and tender movement and feel her shiver under me. Hear her whimpers and sighs as I filled her up over and over again for the entire evening.

We moved together for several minutes before her hands came to my backside and I could feel her silently asking me to go a little harder, a little deeper. She began to tighten around me, and I knew her body was desperate for the release. So was mine.

Keeping our same rhythm, I intensified my movements and again, within seconds, she unravelled underneath me. She tightened around me naturally with her climax and I said her name as I released myself into her with a deep groan. Again, I buried my face into the crook of her neck as both of our bodies convulsed against one another in the way that only lovers do.

We had lain like that for what felt like an hour, her hands tracing secret messages along my shoulder blades and spine, before I felt and heard her chuckle quietly underneath me.

I lifted myself up and off of her just enough to look, with a careful hand on the bed and studied her face.

She was flushed. Her chest still rising and falling in a heavy, rhythmic way, and she was smiling. Her eyes sparkled like that of a child who had just won some kind of prize at the fair and glistened with happiness.

"About time." She simply whispered with a lopsided grin.

Vixen.

I returned the grin and pulled myself out and flopped to my side, exhausted and defeated, beside her. My left hand rested on my chest above my heavily beating heart, and my right, still touching her delicately along her tacky hip. I was rendered speechless, but could you blame me?

Now it was her turn to raise herself up on an elbow and glance down at me. Her bare chest, her pink, pert nipples staring at me, begging to be tasted.. her curly damp hair cascading around her face, her lips swollen from my kisses.

"Do you regret it?" She whispered, her fingers finding my own damp curls along my hair line and playing with them absent-mindedly.

I turned my face to hers, and shook my head, "No."

"Are you going to pretend this never happened?" Her voice cracked, the insecurity setting in.

Again, I shook my head, this time more confidently, "No."

She smiled before leaning down to kiss my lips softly, "Will you stay?"

Still unable to formulate more than one word answers, I simply nodded and enveloped her small, lean frame in my arms and drew her cheek to my chest.

I held her against my heartbeat until I felt it return to it's normal rhythm, and played with her hair between my fingers that I imagined still smelled like her. Neither of us spoke. The only sounds in the room were those of our breathing and contented sighs.

I could tell she hadn't fallen asleep from the rhythm of her breathing, and I was no where near able to close my eyes yet either. My mind was still replaying the entire day. The entire past 72 hours, really.

Between Nick being kidnapped, watching him on the live stream, being nearly blown up, finding him just in time, and then seeking physical and emotional comfort in Sara's arms and bed... my exhausted brain just couldn't turn off.

Apparently she was just the same.

Eventually, as the morning dawn sunlight began to stream through her sheer bedroom curtain, I felt the warm wetness of tears against my chest.

"Sara?" I whispered as I loosened my grasp around her and shifted to look at her face.

She shook her head, as if to shut off the emotions, and sighed. "I'm fine."

"Do you regret it?" I asked her, repeating her own question.

She laughed and her gap tooth smile beamed at me, "No. Never."

She was quiet for a moment more, before she spoke again, "It could have been any one of us."

I knew she was talking about Nick.

An unsurprising conversation, despite our current new situation. I nodded. She was right. That thought had crossed my mind too, briefly. "What if it had been her?", I remember thinking while watching the live stream in the lab the day before.

"We found him." I spoke, matter of factly.

"You almost got blown up."

Again, she was right and again, I nodded.

"But I didn't."

She rolled her eyes playfully, and smoothed out my eyebrow with the pad of her thumb.

"Would you have still shown up here, if this whole thing never happened?" Her voice was quiet. Almost childlike.

I pondered her question for a moment.. in reality, I probably wouldn't have. Not tonight, anyways.

Still relatively short for words, and unsure how to express myself after our intimacy, I swallowed and inhaled deeply before trying for an answer,

"No.. probably not," I cleared my throat, and felt her heartbeat pick up against my skin, "but my feelings still wouldn't have changed.. and neither would the inevitability of.. this."

I watched her eyes trace over my face, as if she were reading me. Her hair was dry now, and glowed with a red undertone in the dim sunlight.

"Inevitability?"

I felt like a plastic bobble head when I once again, nodded. As if it were the only thing I were capable of - speech still escaping me.

"I.." I began, squinting my eyes to look into hers, hoping she could see how genuine my words were, "I have always been drawn to you, Sara. More so since... getting to know you better this year. I think, I believe... I believe our intimacy was inevitable. Eventually the ground was bound to cave in underneath me. I would have ended up here eventually."

"You make it sound so dark and ominous." She chuckled. "Like some sort of curse."

"Not at all." I grinned, the sight of her unravelling under my touch flashing through my memory again, "Enlightening."

She smiled, and lowered her head back down to my chest with a heavy exhale. I could tell the tiredness was beginning to overtake her.

I ran my fingers over her bare arms and listened to her breathing as it began to slow.

"A spell, maybe." I whispered, finally, and felt her smile sleepily against me.

"Since when do you believe in fantasy?" She laughed tiredly.

I wanted to say so many things.

Since I met you.

Since I first saw your eyes.

Since you first touched me.

But I didn't. Instead I smiled against her warm hair and kissed her, before closing my eyes and letting the afterglow of our love making wash over me in sleepy waves.

Maybe it was a bad idea, and maybe it would come back to slap me in the face eventually.. but I decided then and there that loving Sara would be worth it.

After all, her spell on me was inevitable.

End

Welp. There it is. That's it. That's all.

Please don't judge me and my dirty mind.

As always reviews and kind constructive words are appreciated, as are "favourites".

Xx