Hey there!

Welcome back.

Here's a little story I've been working on based on the short scene we saw at the end of Happenstance, waaaaay back in season 7.

Rated a STRONG T for sexual content, mentions of... ya know... so please read responsibly. All mistakes are my own, I have no beta. Characters belong to CBS. These little stories just live in my head, and now, I suppose, on your screens. I also do not own the quotations in bold - those are the words of Henry David Thoreau himself, so enjoy this little literary based story.

Thank you for all of the love and reviews on my stories and the support with this new account. It means a ton!

I'm currently working on a post Dead Doll story, too, which will hopefully be up sometime this week.

Xx

GSR, as always.

Remedy for Love

Sara unlocked the door to his condo, and let herself in quietly.

The air still faintly smelled like the eggs and pancakes he had fried earlier in the day before she had to leave for court.

In her haste to get out the door, she had shoved a few mouthfuls in and taken a swig of strong black coffee, kissed his cheek and left. All for nothing, apparently, since she was stuck on the bench outside the courtroom all day when she could have been solving a double murder.

With a sigh she tossed her faux leather jacket and case over the back of the chair in the entrance way, toed off her shoes and made her way down the industrial style staircase to the open concept kitchen.

She opened up the cupboard, third to the left, and grabbed a stemless wine glass and poured herself some deep Cabernet Sauvignon. They had opened the bottle last night before bed, and there was enough for one generous glass left in the bottle.

Taking a sip, she inhaled and closed her eyes before swallowing it gratefully.

Hank was at the sitters until tomorrow - he stayed over a couple of nights a week when they had scheduled court appearances. Thankfully Caroline, the sitter, loved him.. and didn't mind the house guest from time to time. She didn't even charge them for the over night stays anymore, which was kind of her.

Sara loved the pup just as much as Gil did, but she was thankful for the quiet condo this evening. No whining for food, treats, a belly rub or a pee. Just silence. Sometimes she missed that about her little apartment.

The sound of the refrigerator and the ice maker hummed in the back of her mind as Sara stood with her hip against the kitchen island and sipped her lush red wine. Grissom only bought the finest, despite her insistence...

After all, he was a very particular kind of man.

He liked what he liked, and he happened to like when her lips tasted like 35 wine and her cheeks flushed red from the buzz.

She smiled as she rolled her neck and reached behind her curled hair to undo the clasp on her necklace. A silver chain with a square pendant, one of her very favourites. A gift from him, from over a year ago now.

He didn't give it to her in some elaborate, romantic way.

It just appeared on the beside table one day in an unwrapped jewelry box.

She'd put it on immediately and worn it, only it, as she thanked him enthusiastically, straddling his lap on his red leather couch.

She placed the warm metal chain down on the counter and unbuttoned her blazer, discarding it too, over the back of a bar chair.

Goosebumps ran up her arms from the sudden chill as she stood in the cool kitchen in nothing but a cream coloured tank top and her matching black suit pants.

With a sigh, she decided she would eat later, maybe.. and instead have a warm bath.

She hadn't the faintest idea when her lover would come strolling through the door.

When he got himself lost in a book, a book of poetry, no less.. he was unpredictable. She didn't mind so much when it happened at home in his office because at least he was home and sometimes she could coax him to bed with a purposeful sway of her hips.. but when he disappeared inside his head and the words of some old dead guy at the lab, it was unknown when he would ever resurface.

She'd hoped she'd managed to convey her intentions with her "I won't wait up".. but in reality, she realized he was still just an imperfect man with an easily distracted mind. It was something she loved about him, no matter how irritating it could be.

Grabbing her necklace and blazer in one hand, she made her way to his bedroom, much more like their bedroom these days as she all but lived here now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept at her own apartment, and he'd been nagging at her to just give up her rental. Almost all of her clothes and belongings were here now. She even had her own dresser, not just a drawer or two like in the beginning of their relationship. When she bought shampoo and body wash, she bought it for his shower, not hers. The lavender and yellow coloured bottles sat next to his grey ones on the shower shelf. Her green toothbrush next to his blue one in a marble cup beside the sink. Her soy milk in the fridge door beside his 2%. They used the same Tide laundry detergent now, and in any given load of laundry you'd find both of their unmentionables mixed together.

She tossed the necklace into a little pottery bowl on the dresser and silently hung up the blazer in the closet, along with her pants after she slipped them off of her long, cold legs.

Sara walked to the ensuite bathroom and started the bath, pouring in a generous amount of orange and cedarwood bath oil before shimmying out of her purple cotton underwear and cream tank top and bra. She tossed all three in the laundry hamper on top of his boxers from the night before and stepped into the warm, welcoming tub.

With a sigh she sunk into the deep water, allowing it to penetrate her tense muscles. She'd never been a bath person until she met Gil bath. It was much roomier than the small apartment sized tub in her place and even had some gentle jets that she thoroughly enjoyed against her shoulders and hips after a long day. She'd also learned how intimately romantic a shared bath could be.

Swallowing the last of her wine, she set her glass down on the floor and closed her eyes in contentment. If she had have told herself eighteen months ago that she would be relaxing on a Wednesday evening in Gil Grissom's bathtub, soaking in bath oil and drinking the wine he had purchased solely for her relaxation, she would have laughed in her own face.

It wasn't perfect, by any means. No relationship ever was, though, she surmised.

They had their moments. More recently, his fixation on the "Miniature Killer" being one of them. It had been keeping him up. Sometimes she'd wake up in a cold and empty bed, only to find him hunched over in his office combing through files and photos he'd copied and brought home. He'd had more headaches, lately, too. Migraines, even.

However, lately when he wasn't feeling well, he wasn't pushing her away. That was a significant improvement in itself.

A couple weeks prior, he'd been working on a case involving two young boys and a pedophile.. something that is deeply triggering for him for reasons she has yet to uncover. He'd wound up with a crippling migraine, worse then he'd had in the entire time she'd known him.

Instead of shutting her out, though, he'd allowed her to care for him.

It could have been the complete helplessness and overwhelming pain and nausea, but when she found him in Jim's office that afternoon, he didn't even flinch when she touched her cool fingertips to his tacky forehead and didn't fight her when she stated she was taking him home.

He didn't try and argue when she started to remove his shoes, unbutton his shirt and pull down his jeans once he crashed on the bed, medication consumed. A normally proud man, he didn't even flinch when she tucked him into their bed and massaged his head gently until his prescription kicked in and he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke the next morning in his boxers and a t-shirt, her limbs wrapped around him protectively, his fresh eyes merely glanced over her. An unspoken thank you. They were bluer and lighter than she'd seen them in weeks and could sense a weight lifted, even if it were just temporary, off of his shoulders.

He'd trailed his warm hand through her curls, cupped her face, and wordlessly brought his lips down to hers - igniting a flame she knew well. His wet lips silently trailed kisses from her jaw line all the way down to places that made her shudder and moan. She did read somewhere, that an orgasm did wonders for headaches and other bodily pain.

Sara smiled at the memory of that morning as she shifted in the water, feeling it cooling off unpleasantly around her.

Decidedly finished with her soak, she stood and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel with wrinkled fingers and stepped out onto the bath mat.

After brushing her teeth and tossing her damp curls into a loose bun, Sara dressed in an old collage t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear and crawled into their cold bed. It still smelled like their evening last night. Clean sweat and sex, combined with the scent of his shampoo.

If she had to pin point what "home" smelled like to her, this would be it. Two day old sheets, and his pillow.

She wanted to wait up. She really did..

But the warmth from the bath and the delicious buzz from the generous glass of wine had her eyes and limbs feeling heavy and sleepy...

His lips were soft and warm against her cheeks, and she felt herself smile as she came out of a deep wine induced sleep.

Sara opened her hazy eyes to a dark room, and immediately felt the heat radiating off of his body as his smiling lips came down to hers gently.

"Sorry I'm late, dear." He whispered into her kiss, before draping the covers over himself, letting in a brief blow of cool air that sent a chill up her spine.

"Did you enjoy your pumpkin?" She smiled, as she wrapped her legs around his warm torso instinctively. He too had stripped down to nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.

"I did." She felt him nod, "Until I remembered I had a warm, lonely woman in my bed at home waiting for me."

She could see the outline of his smile in the dark, as he continued.

"You smell good. How was your nap?"

"Good." She chuckled, "I finished off the wine and had a bath."

With a disappointed, slightly dramatic groan, Grissom nuzzled his smooth cheek into the hollow of her neck. "I chose Thoreau over a bath with wine drunk Sara Sidle."

Again, Sara laughed, this time playfully slapping his chest, "I wasn't drunk. But yes. Yes you did."

He grumbled again, as his warm fingers delicately played with the elastic of her underwear. She could feel his hardening arousal under her leg, and could sense his intentions in his touch.

"I've never been good at making decisions when it comes to you, have I?" He whispered as his lips found the pulse point in her neck and his fingers dipped a little lower into her panties.

"Well.." Sara sighed into his touch, "You're here now.. and, ah.. you seem to be making a pretty good choice with that hand."

Gil's smiled against her skin and his fingers dipped ever so gently between her curly folds into her wetness, eliciting a deep moan from the depths of her throat.

"There is no remedy for love but to love more." He spoke softly as he found her bundle of nerves and began working his fingers in a slow, circular motion.

Between gasps, Sara replied, "And what exactly did Thoreau know about love? He lived alone in a cabin in the woods."

With a small chuckle against her collarbone, Grissom replied softly, "I think being alone in the woods made him appreciate true friendships and love."

"And you?" She sighed as he slipped a finger inside her slowly.

Grissom simply laughed in a low, guttural way as he continued his ministrations and brought his lips to hers. "What about me?"

"Well.." she gasped again, as he shifted his body above hers and added another finger. "You lived alone here in this concrete condo... did loneliness make you appreciate.. true, ohhhh, friendship and love?"

"Things change." He shrugged with a smug look on his face as her eyes rolled back into her head with a sultry, surrendering smile.

"Things do not change; we change." Sara quoted with a moan before her body tightened around his fingers and fireworks exploded behind her closed eyes.

After the waves of climax washed over her sleepy and sated limbs, her body relaxed into the mattress, her head sinking deep into her pillow, and Sara opened her eyes directly into his.

She was met with a boyish, proud grin. One he saved especially for moments like this: when he could reduce her to nothing but a whimpering pile of jello with just his touch, just his lips.

"I'd share my pumpkin with you." He whispered in his ever-Grissom way before kissing her lips deeply, swallowing a loud laugh that escaped her throat.

"And I'll share my remedy for love... even when you come home late." Sara whispered, as her long fingers found the elastic waist band of his boxers and slowly pulled them towards his feet.

END

Thankyou for reading.

Xx