A/N: New chapter! We love to hear from readers!

One More Grissom

Chapter 10

Exhaustion had hit her as soon as Sara had crawled into the car; the rush of the confrontation with Wix had passed but the sadness of losing her wedding ring put her in a general gloomy state. However, as soon as Will hugged her neck, the gloom lifted; a smile appeared and remained on her face.

A while later, with food in a couple of white bags, she and Will sat next to one another, the city serving as a beautiful backdrop, as Grissom served dinner.

"You know it's just a ring."

Grissom placed a double grilled cheese sandwich in front of his wife; he had seen her twirling her thumb around her empty ring finger a dozen times today.

Sara smiled, saying, "I know—it's—it's the original ring." She smiled again, adding, "I've had a long attachment to that ring."

Grissom added another grilled cheese sandwich to his son's plate along with a handful of French fries. Not the best of meals but an easy one to pick up before they reached the hotel.

"I love grilled cheese," said Will as he took a bite and then pulled the sandwich away from his mouth leaving strings of melted cheese dangling from lips to chin in the process.

Sara reached for a napkin but Will's fingers were quicker as he wiped his chin and managed to lick cheese from his fingers.

"I love French fries," mumbled the little boy as he stuffed three fat fries into his already full mouth.

"Slow down," Sara said. "You have plenty of time to eat."

She thought he said, "I love hot fries" but his words were muffled by food in his mouth.

Grissom opened a clear container of mixed salad and added it to their plates. "And eat some green stuff—a boy cannot grow on grilled cheese and French fries."

"Tell us one thing you did at school today," said Sara as she cut a tomato wedge into small bites. "I know you did something exciting—you were busy when we came."

Will gave both parents a wide smile, his eyes sparkling as he said, "I was helping Jane and Abby. We made a really pretty picture for Barry."

"Why were you making a picture for Barry?" asked Grissom having no idea who Barry was.

"He got a baby sister! A real baby and his mommy came in with the little tiny baby." Will spread his hands about a foot apart. "So we made a picture for him and his sister. Her name is Mandolin but he calls her Mandy."

Sara kept her face down; she knew what was coming next.

Her son continued uninterrupted, "Barry has two sisters." Will held his sandwich in one hand, a French fry in the other. "I really want just one sister." He looked at his dad and without pause, said, "You and Mommy sleep together so I think we will have one any day."

Never knowing what to say when his son brought up a sister, Grissom looked at Sara and said, "Sara, do want more salad?"

Pausing for a moment before she answered, Sara said, "Not everyone has a sister, you know. I don't—your dad doesn't—and you might not have one." She didn't want to completely end his dream of a sister.

Slowly, Will chewed on a French fry before he said, "I could have a brother."

"Well," Sara said, "we don't have brothers either. We were our parents' only children."

Another moment passed as Will chewed before he said, "I'm going to keep praying about it—I'd really like to have a sister."

Grissom's eyes rolled. He had no idea how his child had learned about praying. A second later, he remembered Will was enrolled in a religious preschool program. He said, "When you finish dinner, you can watch one episode of Sponge Bob."

When he glanced at Sara, her eyes were dancing with laughter. The promise of television was a quick and easy way to change the subject.

Later, after Will had a bath and was put to bed, Grissom said he was returning to the lab for a while. "I want to set up the experiment for tomorrow." He also had some cleaning to do on Sara's ring. "If I get it set up tonight, it won't take long and we'll have plenty of time to get ready for court."

Sara paused as she was selecting clothes for Will. "You've always been so good at this—finding the clue the rest of us miss."

Grissom took the clothes from her hands and folded them over a chair as he said, "I haven't found that clue for Hodges." He turned, taking Sara into his arms, as he said, "You scared me tonight—meeting Wix like that. He's a mad man—and his sister is up to her eyeballs in all of this." Gently, he kissed her pulling her into a tight hug.

"Don't stay away all night," Sara said as she broke the kiss. Deciding he looked especially adorable, she kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair. "I'll wait up."

A quiet chuckle came from her husband. "Can we pretend we are working on a baby sister?"

Sara pulled a face, saying, "I don't know what we are going to do about that—maybe a puppy?"

Grissom laughed, asking, "Did you remember wanting a sister or a brother?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so—but then—you know how my life…"

Nodding, he kissed her and promised to return quickly.

It took longer than he had planned to set up his experiment, finally recruiting a young lab tech to help him set up a tub and gather all the equipment he needed. The tech seemed to know who Grissom was and did not waste time asking a lot of questions.

The young woman did suggest adding an extra set of goggles and a face shield, saying, "The under-sheriff is in charge so he'll be around."

Grissom piled another set of eye protectors and a lab coat to those already on the table with a "thanks".

Two hours later, Grissom found Sara waiting, reading a book he knew she'd read at least three times—and realized he'd left her ring in the pocket of his lab coat.

She had not been reading the book the entire time; she'd spent over an hour searching the internet for an answer she knew she'd never find. For over three years, she and Grissom had wished they could 'expand their family'—and neither cared how. Physically, she wasn't going to have another baby—her body had followed the normal aging process and she had simply run out of healthy eggs. She was fifty years old—while women had babies at that age, it wasn't happening to her.

Her internet search had been for adoption—and that had not changed in a decade. The unofficial age limit for adoptive parents was fifty—or younger. Older couples were strongly encouraged to adopt older children and even that process had so many requirements their lifestyle excluded them from any program that actually listed prerequisites.

She had closed her search and picked up a book—one she'd read several times—and looked at the same page as she decided the easiest way to solve her son's wish for a sibling was to find a puppy. Not a Hank—there could be no replacement for the pet who had been her companion for years, but a smaller dog. One that would be Will's companion and small enough to travel with them.

The door of the suite opened and her nose picked up the arid hint of chemicals clinging to her husband as he entered the room. In an instant, her mind flashed back to the first time he had come to her apartment. He'd had the same smell then as he'd come from work to check on her. Wearing a gray shirt that made his eyes bluer than usual; his beard needed a trim—and he'd held her hand, stayed with her as she spilled her life story.

All these years later, he looked good; even better, she thought, with his white hair still wavy enough to bury your fingers in when she kissed him.

"Hey," she said as she stood, leaning to his face for a quick kiss. Her nose twitched, slightly. He noticed.

Grissom said, "I'll shower—took longer than I thought—and I know I smell." Surprising Sara, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tender embrace. "You know how much I love you—I've never been very good with words when my feelings are strongest."

His fingers around her back had found the curve of her breast making Sara very aware of the tightening of her nipples. "Perfect," he whispered, "I promise I'll be quick."

When her husband came to bed, Sara felt a rush of pure happiness at the sight of his face. His eyes were glowing with warmth; his expression easy-to-read. A smile tugged at his lips. The tip of his finger slid over her chin. "I need you," he said softly.

Over the years of their marriage, their lovemaking had developed into a leisurely, pleasurable concert more related to opera and orchestra than heavy metal and rock music. Grissom knew how to play his mouth over his wife's body; his fingertips passing over her skin like sun-warmed water.

Sara pressed herself against him until there was not an inch of space between them, kissing him long and hard, intoxicated by the smell of his skin.

His hands worked gentle circles on her back and shoulders, slowly and softly as he restrained his passion, whereas, Sara was nudged against him, seeking his touch as he cupped her bottom. Everywhere he touched her, she felt waves of intense relief followed by a deeper, more pleasurable ache.

When she would have quickly climaxed, he slowed his fingers, caressing with gossamer-light strokes, cuddling her as he whispered endearments, layering sensation on sensation. When she thought she would explode, he parted her legs and slowly entered her body. Every movement drew pleasure from the depths of her body until her body clenched and contracted and burst into a shattering climax.

She heard a soft laugh moments before a deep growl and an intense tightening of his muscles that led to his orgasm. Panting, he lowered his body, keeping his lips on her neck, his sex still buried inside her.

Moments passed before she felt his fingertip against her chin, sliding up to her ear. "You are beautiful, Sara," he whispered.

Already feeling witless and drained, Sara threaded her fingers through his hair, experiencing an overwhelming need to sleep. Their intimacy had freed her mind of events of the day—except for one—and she said, "I think we need to get a dog."

"A dog is a good idea," Grissom said as a smile spread across his face. "We'll call him Hank Junior." And with a sigh of contentment, he fell asleep.

A/N: More to come- read, review, and another chapter posted! Should we write a "Hank Junior"?