They stood, frozen in time, enjoying the feel of their lips pressed
together. Nothing else existed but this moment in time.
Slowly, the kiss ended. Afraid to open her eyes in case she would wake up
from the dream, Sara ran her fingers along the nape of his neck, making him
moan softly. Her heart pounded, and blood ran faster throughout her body.
She opened her eyes, meeting his, and he ran his hand gently along the
curve of her cheek, then letting the hand run through her hair. He stared
at her with new eyes. Twisting a strand of her hair around his finger, he
stared down at her flushed face, opened his mouth and began to quote, "
'.He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable
visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the
mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork
that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch,
she blossomed for him like a flower, and the incarnation was complete.'"
Sara beamed. "And you said you weren't a poet, Gil Grissom." He smiled
softly. "I'm not-F. Scott Fitzgerald is, though." She laughed. "Well, I'd
rather have you." Their lips met once more, longer this time, taking time
to explore regions yet un navigated. As they pulled away, Grissom was
reminded of the legend of how the tradition of kissing in the marriage
ceremony had come to be. He'd read that it was believed during the
Renaissance that when the couple kissed, for the first time on their
wedding day, that their souls mingled and became one with the exchange of
breath. When he'd first heard it, Grissom had dismissed the myth as a
quaint historical legend, something that was unrealistic and ridiculous,
but to be stored in the file of historical trivia in his head. Now, he
thought, he might just know what those medieval couples had been talking
about.
As their lips broke for the second time, Sara leaned her head contentedly against Grissom's chest, sighing peacefully. The jukebox played "A Soft Place to Fall". Speaking into his chest, Sara said, "The song I wanted you to hear is over, Grissom. We don't have to dance anymore." He answered her, and she felt a thrill at hearing his voice vibrate through his ribcage, absorbing the richness of his voice, melting into his warmth. "I know." She lifted her head and smiled up at him as they rocked gently to the music. Grissom kept looking at her, his face full of wonder. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so happy. And, Sara knew, the same look of elation was on her face, a happiness she'd never felt before.
After awhile, Sara broke the reverie. Her hands were on his shoulders, his hands on her waist, as they danced. Grissom would never have imagined he'd enjoy this as much as he was, but he figured it was the company more than anything. His lips twitched in a smile as he thought of what Brass would say if he saw Grissom right then, swaying to the music of a jukebox with Sara Sidle.
He watched her face. "What's on your mind, Sara?" he asked softly, reaching up a hand to run a finger gently on her lips, then placed it under her chin. She answered. "I was just.thinking about some things." "Like what?" "Well.first of all.I owe you an apology." He frowned "For what?" "Well, earlier on, I was just thinking about how wrong everyone is, the people who don't really know you, for accusing you of being.I don't know, cold? For not caring. And I know.I did the same thing, more than once. And I know you, and I know with all my heart that it's not true. If I could take back what I said, I would. So.I'm sorry, Gil." He smiled, loving the sound of her voice saying his first name. "Sara, you don't owe me anything. I owe you an apology. I just.I can't change the way I am." "I know. It's OK. I wouldn't have you any different, Dr. Grissom." He grinned, leaning and gently kissing her forehead. "Also, I hate to bring this up, but I need to know.There where a lot of rumors going around the lab about you and the dominatrix who employed those vics." He winced, his expression cutting her off. "Sara, I.I've made a lot of mistakes. That was one of them. I don't regret knowing Lady Heather. She's a fascinating woman who reads people very well, and she's very good at what she does." He stopped, face turning red even as Sara's went hard. "I mean, her business.Anyway, I.Um. I was drawn to her at the time. I don't know why. Maybe it was because she was safe, in that she was flawed, like I am, and I thought maybe that was what I was meant to have. I put the thought of having you by my side away a long time ago, Sara. But, I think Lady Heather sensed my hearing disorder, in some odd way. And for that one night.I don't know. I was tired of being who I was, and she was there. It's done, and I can't change it. I can say I'm sorry, but it won't change anything." He studied Sara's face; she was staring skeptically at his chest, studying the fibers of his shirt. He once again raised her chin gently, tipping her face towards him. "What I can say is that you are here with me now, and I can promise you that in my.heart, that's all I really wanted." Sara smiled, noticing his hesitation at saying the word 'heart'. This was foreign territory for Grissom and Sara, but Sara knew there was no one she'd rather explore it with than Grissom.
He peered into her eyes, worriedly, afraid he'd ruined everything. To reassure him, she pulled his head towards hers and kissed him passionately. He returned and deepened the kiss. She felt like a magnet to his steel, moaning into his mouth, overtaken with desire and a lot of other things she'd never felt before, not in this way, not this deeply.
A group of teenagers walked past the embracing couple on their way out the door. They snickered. "Dude, get a room!" one of them said, tapping Grissom on the arm as they walked away. Grissom broke the kiss, head reeling from desire. The group of kids where his first indication that a universe existed outside of the one he'd created with Sara. He pulled his face away from hers long enough to call, perhaps a bit too loud, "We HAVE a room!" Despite the passion of the moment, Sara burst out laughing, her arms around Grissom's neck, hugging him. At her outburst, he began laughing himself, and they stood, laughing, foreheads together, not noticing or caring about the looks from the other people in the restaurant.
This was one of the many things Sara loved about Grissom. She couldn't think of any other man she'd dated who would freely make out with her in front of fifteen people eating pizza on a Saturday night, then defend their right to do so. She had always admired his complete and utter disregard for what anyone else thought of him or his actions. Whether it was throwing dummies of the top of a casino or kissing her in the middle of an Italian resteraunt in Colorado, Grissom knew who he was and what he was about, and if anyone else didn't like it, to hell with them. Sara had found that attitude sexy as hell from the first day she met him.
He grinned at her now, somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry." She laughed again. "Don't be." She put her hand on his face and kissed him again before she spoke. "Actually, Gris, we have two rooms." He kissed her cheek, forehead and nose in a soft circle before returning to her lips, kissing her with a passion that truly left her breathless. "Sara," he said, when he'd left her gasping for air, eyes half-hooded and full of fire, "the state of Nevada is paying for your hotel room. Please, sleep with me tonight."
As their lips broke for the second time, Sara leaned her head contentedly against Grissom's chest, sighing peacefully. The jukebox played "A Soft Place to Fall". Speaking into his chest, Sara said, "The song I wanted you to hear is over, Grissom. We don't have to dance anymore." He answered her, and she felt a thrill at hearing his voice vibrate through his ribcage, absorbing the richness of his voice, melting into his warmth. "I know." She lifted her head and smiled up at him as they rocked gently to the music. Grissom kept looking at her, his face full of wonder. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so happy. And, Sara knew, the same look of elation was on her face, a happiness she'd never felt before.
After awhile, Sara broke the reverie. Her hands were on his shoulders, his hands on her waist, as they danced. Grissom would never have imagined he'd enjoy this as much as he was, but he figured it was the company more than anything. His lips twitched in a smile as he thought of what Brass would say if he saw Grissom right then, swaying to the music of a jukebox with Sara Sidle.
He watched her face. "What's on your mind, Sara?" he asked softly, reaching up a hand to run a finger gently on her lips, then placed it under her chin. She answered. "I was just.thinking about some things." "Like what?" "Well.first of all.I owe you an apology." He frowned "For what?" "Well, earlier on, I was just thinking about how wrong everyone is, the people who don't really know you, for accusing you of being.I don't know, cold? For not caring. And I know.I did the same thing, more than once. And I know you, and I know with all my heart that it's not true. If I could take back what I said, I would. So.I'm sorry, Gil." He smiled, loving the sound of her voice saying his first name. "Sara, you don't owe me anything. I owe you an apology. I just.I can't change the way I am." "I know. It's OK. I wouldn't have you any different, Dr. Grissom." He grinned, leaning and gently kissing her forehead. "Also, I hate to bring this up, but I need to know.There where a lot of rumors going around the lab about you and the dominatrix who employed those vics." He winced, his expression cutting her off. "Sara, I.I've made a lot of mistakes. That was one of them. I don't regret knowing Lady Heather. She's a fascinating woman who reads people very well, and she's very good at what she does." He stopped, face turning red even as Sara's went hard. "I mean, her business.Anyway, I.Um. I was drawn to her at the time. I don't know why. Maybe it was because she was safe, in that she was flawed, like I am, and I thought maybe that was what I was meant to have. I put the thought of having you by my side away a long time ago, Sara. But, I think Lady Heather sensed my hearing disorder, in some odd way. And for that one night.I don't know. I was tired of being who I was, and she was there. It's done, and I can't change it. I can say I'm sorry, but it won't change anything." He studied Sara's face; she was staring skeptically at his chest, studying the fibers of his shirt. He once again raised her chin gently, tipping her face towards him. "What I can say is that you are here with me now, and I can promise you that in my.heart, that's all I really wanted." Sara smiled, noticing his hesitation at saying the word 'heart'. This was foreign territory for Grissom and Sara, but Sara knew there was no one she'd rather explore it with than Grissom.
He peered into her eyes, worriedly, afraid he'd ruined everything. To reassure him, she pulled his head towards hers and kissed him passionately. He returned and deepened the kiss. She felt like a magnet to his steel, moaning into his mouth, overtaken with desire and a lot of other things she'd never felt before, not in this way, not this deeply.
A group of teenagers walked past the embracing couple on their way out the door. They snickered. "Dude, get a room!" one of them said, tapping Grissom on the arm as they walked away. Grissom broke the kiss, head reeling from desire. The group of kids where his first indication that a universe existed outside of the one he'd created with Sara. He pulled his face away from hers long enough to call, perhaps a bit too loud, "We HAVE a room!" Despite the passion of the moment, Sara burst out laughing, her arms around Grissom's neck, hugging him. At her outburst, he began laughing himself, and they stood, laughing, foreheads together, not noticing or caring about the looks from the other people in the restaurant.
This was one of the many things Sara loved about Grissom. She couldn't think of any other man she'd dated who would freely make out with her in front of fifteen people eating pizza on a Saturday night, then defend their right to do so. She had always admired his complete and utter disregard for what anyone else thought of him or his actions. Whether it was throwing dummies of the top of a casino or kissing her in the middle of an Italian resteraunt in Colorado, Grissom knew who he was and what he was about, and if anyone else didn't like it, to hell with them. Sara had found that attitude sexy as hell from the first day she met him.
He grinned at her now, somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry." She laughed again. "Don't be." She put her hand on his face and kissed him again before she spoke. "Actually, Gris, we have two rooms." He kissed her cheek, forehead and nose in a soft circle before returning to her lips, kissing her with a passion that truly left her breathless. "Sara," he said, when he'd left her gasping for air, eyes half-hooded and full of fire, "the state of Nevada is paying for your hotel room. Please, sleep with me tonight."