Chapter 22

After a further 45 minuets sleep, Grissom was woken by the sound of Sara's phone vibrating on the bedside table. The woman in question groaned and nestled her head further against his chest, trying to block out the offending noise. Grissom looked over, but from his position on the bed, he didn't have a clear view of the caller ID. Though he had pretty good idea of who it could be.

The phone stopped ringing and Sara sighed, lifting her head to look up at him. Her face was adorably creased, eyes heavy from sleep. Mouth was tilted in a happy, satisfied smile. Grissom brushed a finger across her forehead, sweeping the hair out of her face. The thick curls were tangled from sleep, and their earlier activities, and Grissoms' finger got caught in a knot.

"It's a good thing Catherine thought to get me a hairbrush," Sara said, as Grissom gently worked out the knot and smoothed the hair down. "I can't go to the lab with it like this. I must look a fright." She grimaced, but the twinkle in her eye gave her away.

She had never looked more beautiful.

"I don't think that is even possible for you, my dear," Grissom said, and he lowered his head to brush a kiss across her lips. Sara brought her hand up to cup his cheek, pulling him back in for another. More than happy to oblige her, Grissom drew Sara up his chest. Deepening the kiss as he did.

Just as his hand was sliding down her back, Sara's phone started to ring once more. She groaned against his mouth and her body sagged as she broke contact.

"It's the lab again. Are you going to answer it?" Grissom asked.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. Eyes closed while she counted the rings. The phone vibrated four more times before shutting off again. Sara smiled.

She opened her eyes to look at him and Grissom could only chuckle as she lent in to kiss him once more. Sara had shifted position until she was on top of him, her legs straddling his waist.

"You know," he said, as Sara's lips travelled to his neck, kissing the underside of his jaw. "I don't remember having this much trouble calling you into work."

"That's because," she said as she pressed her lips against him. "When you were the one calling me in, I didn't have any other, more pleasurable plans for my day." She kissed his chest, peppering it as she moved down to his stomach.

His skin burned from her touch, and Grissom could feel himself growing harder with each inch she gained. He watched her go lower and lower. Eyes dilating, breathing getting heavier with each press of her lips. Even after all these years, she managed to illicit a response in him he didn't think possible. With just one touch, he was ready for her.

Something Sara took great delight in during the early stages of their relationship. Torturing him with it when there was nothing he could do. Grissom had lost count of the number of times he had to excuse himself, from a crime scene, a lab, a meeting, just because of one touch. A brush of skin. A look. A smile. Needing to calm down before he embarrassed himself. Or lost his mind completely and kissed her right there and then.

And while, as their relationship grew deeper, more intimate. When the initial frenzy of being together had eased, those moments had lessened. His reaction to her touch hadn't changed. It flooded him, consumed him. An addiction he had no intention of stopping. Not after two years without it.

Her phone rang again, and it was Grissom's turn to groan in frustration. Sara looked up, giving him a small dissatisfied, and apologetic smile.

"Later," she promised as she clambered, still completely naked, across the bed to pick up her phone.

Grissom's head fell back against his pillow, his mind trying to fill itself with decomposing bodies and maggot riddled eyeballs. Anything to calm his breathing and lower his temperature. Safe to say, it wasn't working.

"Sidle," Sara said, a slight bite in her tone. At least he wasn't the only one annoyed at the interruption. "Seriously, Greg? You guys were telling me, all day, yesterday to go home and get some rest. And now that I'm happily doing as I'm told, you're calling me in?" She paused. "Never you mind what I'm doing," she replied, shooting Grissom smirk. He grinned at her. He knew he shouldn't do it, that they should get back to the lab and help with the case. But Sara was sitting, butt naked next to him in bed. Not even bothering to cover herself with the duvet.

It was physically impossible to resist.

He moved up behind her, gently gliding his finger up and down her spine. Kissing her neck. Sara lent her head back, resting it on his shoulder. Her eyes fluttering shut. The phone still held to her ear on the other side.

"Uh huh," Sara said, distractedly, and Grissom smiled against her skin. His hand snaked around her front, finger grazing her stomach. It fluttered at his touch, and Sara shifted a little on the bed. He could feel the heat rising within her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

God, this woman had soft skin! He could spend the rest of his life kissing every inch of it, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"Right." She pushed back a little against him. "Uh, Greg? I'll… um… I'll be in soon. So just…" Grissom started tracing lazy circles on her thigh and he could tell she was using every ounce of concentration. Trying not to vocalise just what he was doing to her right then. His hand was just starting to dip when Sara shot up, sitting poker straight. "You blew up what?"

Grissom's hands stilled on her. He had forgotten about that. "Who told you to do that?" She asked. Sara's head shot round to face him, her eyes narrowing. "Did he now?" A mixture of amusement and exasperation coloured her face and Grissom gave her his best winning smile. Sara rolled her eyes.

"Ok," she said. "We'll be right there." She hung up the phone and placed it back on the bedside table. An eyebrow arched in question.

"So," Grissom said, casually. "What did Greg want?"

"Don't be smart with me, Gilbert," Sara said, turning to face him fully. "Are you going to tell me why you sent Greg of to build a bomb, on his own?"

"I was going to build it with him," Grissom said, trying to keep a straight face.

"You do remember what happened the last time you tried to make a bomb with Greg, right?"

"Well," Grissom replied, running a finger up her arm. "Technically, I didn't make it with him. So, we were safe from that mishap happening again."

"Very funny," Sara said, pursing her lips to keep from smiling. "Well, he said he's proven your theory. We should go in."

"Yeah," he replied, leaning in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Brushing his lips across to her mouth. Sara brought her hands up to his shoulders, pulling him in as his arm wrapped around her waist. She tilted her head, locking their lips and her tongue sweeping across the seam of his mouth.

They sat there, making out like a couple of teenagers. Tongues battling with each other. A moan escaped him as Sara threaded her fingers in his hair. His hand gliding up her spine. Caressing every bump. Loving every scar.

Grissom pulled her onto his lap. Humming as he felt her pressed against him.

Sara pulled back a little, breaking their kiss. But Grissom was not yet ready to let her go. He had tasted her again and, like the addict he was, he needed more. He kissed down her neck, the thump of her pulse beating against his lips.

"Gil," Sara breathed.

"Hmmm."

"We should go."

"Do we have to?" He asked against her skin. He spent the last two years dreaming about this woman. Now, finally being able to hold her again, Grissom was in no hurry to stop.

"Yes," she said on a laugh. Sitting back and smiling down at him.

"Ok," Grissom sighed, reluctantly. Sara pecked him, once more, on the mouth and got off his lap. Picking up the dressing gown she had draped over the chair in the corner of the room. Grissom watched as she donned the garment, fastening the belt securely at her waist. A slight frown on his face as she covered up her nakedness.

"I don't know why you're looking so put out, Dr Grissom," Sara said. "If you hadn't told Greg to continue without you, they probably wouldn't have called us in for at least another hour or two." She pursed her lips together. The corner twitching up in a cheeky grin, before strutting out the room.

Grissom flopped back on the bed. If he had known yesterday just where they would have ended up this morning, he would have made sure Greg wouldn't have called them in until at least lunch time.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Grissom and Sara walked into the lab together. She had held his hand for the entire ride in but dropped it the moment they pulled into the car park. Grissom didn't mind. Sara was a private person; he knew she didn't want to be the cause of any more office gossip. And walking hand in hand with your ex-husband, who just so happens to be the ex-supervisor, after a two-year separation and only a day long reunion, was certainly cause for the rumour mill to start working again. If it hadn't already.

Grissom felt a twinge of guilt run through him, once more. Sara had been the subject of numerous rumours over the years, because of him. There was already speculation flying around her when he first brought her in, not to mention the allegations that spread when she applied for the promotion. Then, when their relationship became public knowledge, the gossiping doubled. Stories tore across the lab when she had left. He could only imagine the things that were said while they lived out their long-distance marriage, and that would have been nothing to what she would have been subject to once the divorce became known.

Sara had never cared about the gossip, and she had assured him that it didn't bother her. Just as long as those closest to them knew the truth, she could bare what everyone else said. But that didn't make him feel any better about it. He promised her, silently in his head, that he would never make her the subject of unpleasant gossiping again. He would do everything within his power to ensure that, if people spoke about her, about them, it would only be good.

Of course, the rational side to Grissom's brain knew that wasn't possible. But at least he'd be able to look back and know that he'd had done right by her, even if others hadn't.

Sara pulled a little at the scarf around her neck and Grissom had to force himself not to laugh. He wasn't sure who was more mortified, him or Sara, when his mother had handed her the item. Betty had tapped a finger to her neck when Sara questioned her. It was only then that Grissom had noticed the, not so small mark he had left on his wife's throat.

Ex-wife, he reminded himself. Just because she's willing to give you another chance, doesn't mean she's ready, or willing to be your wife again.

But that wouldn't change anything. Even after the divorce was finalised, Grissom knew, in his heart, Sara was, and would always be, his wife. Even if she wasn't. It was why he had never been able to take off his ring. He might have been the one to ask for the separation, but Gil Grissom would always belong to Sara Sidle.

They were just walking past the reception desk when Greg came out of one of the labs, carrying a folder. He smiled when he saw the couple and headed their way.

"I've got the results from our experiment," he said, flipping the folder under his arm. He looked between Grissom and Sara.

"And?" Sara asked.

"Grissom was right." He held the file out for her, Grissom looked over her shoulder as she read. There were two photographs, one of the original bomb site, and one of the test.

"The blast patterns are identical" Sara said as she flicked a page and read Greg's notes.

"The bomber only used a fraction of the C4."

"That'll explain the lower concentration Hodges found," Grissom put in. "What's bothering me, though, is all the C4 that is missing."

"We'll just add that to the list of things we don't know," Catherine said, as she walked up to the threesome. "Nice to see you two finally joining us." She flashed Grissom a grin before flicking her eyes to Sara. Catherine sighed and turned to Greg, who was beaming at her. Bouncing on his heels.

"Pay up," was all the young CSI said, holding out a hand. The former supervisor shook her head and pulled her purse out of her pocket, handing Greg a $10 bill. Greg kissed it before turning to Grissom and Sara. "Thank you," he said with a wink.

"What?" Sara asked, brows furrowing as she looked between their two friends.

"Oh, it's nothing," Greg replied with a shrug, still grinning broadly at them. "Catherine and I just had a little wager going on."

"About what?"

"How long it would take you two to kiss and make up." Greg's grin broadened as he looked at them. Grissom's brows rose to his hair line and Sara's mouth dropped open in the most unfeminine way.

"What?" Sara said, hand fluttering over her scarf once more. Grissom give it a fleeting look to ensure the fabric still covered his love bite.

"I bet Catherine it would happen within the first two days," Greg said, shooting Catherine a smug look. The older woman shook her head, trying to hide her amusement.

"When did you think it would happen?" Grissom asked, curiously.

"Me?" Catherine asked. "I thought it would be within the first two hours."