Fair Enough
- theos [nyx AT ghostdragon DOT net]
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I own none of the characters from the CBS hit series, "CSI". I make no profit from using them, except in my own little mental tally of Grissom/Sara moments. They belong wholeheartedly to CBS, A. Zuiker, and the man himself, W. Peterson.
The Erlenmeyer flasks were mine. Hmpf.
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Devanie definitely gets the blame here. The credit, too, for inspiring the line that sailed a thousand- I mean, wrote the fic around it.
A[nother] Sara/Grissom scenefic.
NC-17 for sexual content.
No spoilers.
A continuation of Broken Silence.
Archive: Yes. Tell me where if you're not G&S[dot]com. Give me credit everywhere.
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Sara bit down hard on Grissom's shoulder and tried to think of not screaming.
Don't think of pink elephants, Sara...damn!
Grissom's head flew back, and she could tell he was too far gone to care, so she bit down, full strength, as her body ricocheted off Grissom's release and into orgasm.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared at the wreckage of the once-pristine lab bench around her. Erlenmeyer flasks, in various stages of shatter, decorated the floor; a very expensive piece of lab equipment tilted crazily on the edge of the bench. She lunged for it before it hit the floor, pulling Grissom's slumped body along with her.
He shook his head out of stupor.
"The hell– what–"
Sara steadied the equipment and relaxed back against the bench. Grissom's head cocked to one side, going from sleepy lust to analytical contemplation in an eyeblink. He pulled back just enough to note the state of partial undress and the scattered, broken tools. His gaze returned to Sara's face, and sure enough, Grissom the lover had gone to Grissom the investigator and then settled on Grissom the supervisor. Grissom the supervisor slowly pulled back, away from her, and straightened up with a dignity that couldn't've been more ridiculous. Sara looked up at the ceiling to keep from laughing; she had a good idea of what Grissom would and would not tolerate before, during, or after sex, and she had a nebulous feeling that laugher was contraindicted for the moment.
"Look at it this way," she said, still staring at the ceiling. "It could've been worse. That could be evidence lodged in your hair."
Grissom frantically pawed shards of glass out of his curls. Sara shook with the effort of keeping a straight face, and started counting the pencils in the ceiling tiles.
"Oh, go ahead and laugh."
Sara looked at Grissom, who had finished brushing glass out of his hair and was now deliberately doing up various articles of clothing.
"I haven't been your mentor - and your lover - for five years without knowing what that grin means. Go on. Your laughter's never offended me."
Sara took her eyes down from the ceiling tiles. Grissom was smiling, shyly. "Except–"
"I thought we agreed - leave the past in some other city?"
Sara took note of her own déshabille and quickly started on her buttons, keeping her eyes off her lazily cleaning mate and on her own problem shirt. She laughed, a little sardonically. "Because that works for so many people, in Vegas."
She felt a soft touch on her chin. Startled, she looked up - to find Grissom's face about an inch away from hers.
"So far..."
She grinned again, unable as ever to resist Grissom's brand of charm.
They both jumped when the knock came at the door. Grissom quickly placed a hand over her mouth, which she promptly bit. He grimaced as he cleared his throat and replied, too loudly, "What?"
Greg's voice sounded like a man who wasn't sure the message wouldn't get him killed; he tremulously said, "Um...I need to get into...the lab. Just for a minute. I mean, if you're done with it."
Grissom's eyebrows rose. "Done with it?"
"Catherine said you were...showing Sara that new technique..."
Sara removed Grissom's hand from her mouth, began to say something, then thought better of it and began sweeping the remnants of Pyrex out from underfoot.
Grissom's mouth tightened, and he said, "We'll be done in a minute, Greg. Go and grab the Luminol - the lab's bottle was spilled." (And indeed it had been, he thought. Whether it had been spilled while he had been discovering Sara's— or while she had been— well, it was all irrelevant.)
Sara dumped the contents of the dustpan with a crash and tinkle. "Done!" she crowed.
"Very good, grasshopper," Grissom said dryly.
Sara lifted her head and pursed her lips. "If you're not too busy mocking me," she said, with equal dryness, "could I impose on you to unlock the door and let your lab rat in?"
Grissom lowered his head to hide a smile. He moved towards the door, pausing to say over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Sara. You'll always be my lab rat."
**
Greg looked nervously from Grissom to Sara as he brought in the evidence, carefully placing the gloves in the correct layout. He looked for some kind of approval from the duo clustered around him, but none was forthcoming; Sara merely gestured for Greg to continue with the forensics, and Grissom had a slight grin on his face, which was enough to make Greg's hand shake over the Luminol bottle.
"Watch it!" they chorused, as his hand slipped on the spray bottle and doused them both. He grimaced; this was going to be a long, long shift. Maybe—
Grissom cleared his throat and lifted his head up enough to give Greg his signature look.
Greg hurriedly finished washing down the gloves with Luminol and broke out the UV light.
Glove one..."Whammy..." Glove two..."Whammy..." Glove three..."Big bucks!"
Sara gave him an odd look. Greg shrugged and said, "Too many sleepless days, too many gameshows." He whirled around with the UV light in hand, heading straight for the outlet and escape. The light streamed over his coworkers for a passing moment, and he saw a bright constellation decorating their clothing, centered below the waist—
He yelped and dropped the light; Sara lunged for it and caught it before it hit the ground.
"How did—" he stammered. "What— actually, never mind." He started backing away as fast as he thought he could physically go. "In fact, I'm going for a lobotomy right now."
He bolted out of the room. He heard two sets of hysterical laughter following him out of the lab.
**
Grissom wiped the tears from his eyes and partially straightened up. Sara was still doubled over, holding her stomach. She managed to gasp out, "Grissom - he won't tell anyone, he's a good guy—"
He waved a hand at her. "Sara, I'd do it all again - if not only for the pleasure, for the look on his face."
She leaned back against the bench, breathing deeply and smiling as widely as he'd ever seen a human being smile. "No revenge?" she said.
"I didn't say tha—" he stopped, as Sara gave him the evil eye. "For you. No revenge. But I won't tell him until the end of the shift."
"Fair enough."