42. "What do you mean neither of them is coming in?"
Grissom looked down at Sara and knew that this shower was not going to be his idea of fun. Yeah, she definitely had that let's-tease-Grissom face on. "Sara, I thought we were trying to get you clean. I can't wash you and kiss you at the same time."
She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "And you'd rather wash me?"
"Tease. You know what I'd rather do with you. But you're sick, and I'm not going to break my promise and take advantage of you." He ended on a squeak as he felt one of her hands slide down to his butt.
Her mouth quirked. "What if I take advantage of you, then? And you know, you never actually promised – I put the words in your mouth." She moved her hand off his behind, though, and settled it in the small of his back, stroking lightly.
"Sara, don't do this to me. I'm trying to be noble, here, and you're ruining it." He took a shaky breath as her free arm slipped around his neck and she kissed his collarbone. "Please . . ." he ground out, no longer sure whether he was asking her to stop of continue, "Sara, we can't keep doing this. You're killing me."
She continued her explorations. "Well, I'm pretty sure I know a good way to un-kill you, Grissom. Now all I have to do is get you to agree with me."
Grissom felt her tongue flick out against his shoulder, licking away beads of shower water, and his resistance shattered. Pressing Sara against the wet wall, he began to kiss her in earnest.
At CSI
Nick blinked in confusion. "What do you mean neither of them is coming in?"
Catherine sighed, vowing revenge on Grissom for leaving her holding the bag. "Sara's not feeling well, she thinks she's got the flu," she lied, "and Grissom, well, he's Grissom. He didn't give me a reason, just said he couldn't make it in and could I take over shift. Probably had to go to an emergency roach race or something."
Nick shrugged, apparently accepting her explanation. "Ok, then. We three are going to be working our butts off tonight to cover for two missing CSIs." A thought appeared to strike him, and he turned to Warrick. "Twenty bucks says he doesn't have a good excuse when he shows up."
Warrick regarded him coolly. "You really think Grissom is gonna skip out on work just because he doesn't feel like coming in or something? Man, he lives in this lab. I'll take your twenty gladly, cause I know that workaholic wouldn't miss a night unless he had to." He shook hands with Nick. "Though, you know, I'll feel bad taking your money, since it's a sure bet."
Nick grinned impudently. "No sweat, bro. You-"
He was cut off by Catherine's edgy voice. "Enough, you two. Like you said, Nick, we've got a lot to do tonight to cover for them. So can we stop with the bets for a few minutes and figure out who's going to do what?" She eyed the chastened-looking younger men. "Now, lucky for us we've only got two cases as of now. Warrick, you and I are heading out to a body dump. Nick, you've got a burglary." She handed them the information sheets. "Oh, and Warrick – I'm driving. No way am I letting you move my Tahoe's perfectly adjusted drivers seat again."
Sara's apartment
Toweling her hair, Sara slanted Grissom a look. "You know, my hangover's almost gone. Mysterious how those things can come and go, eh?"
Her laughing eyes met Grissom's narrowed ones. "You know, Sara, if I hadn't been watching you throw up all morning, I'd begin to think you faked this hangover. You have that crafty look on your face."
She grinned shamelessly at him. "No, I wasn't faking . . . but I'll keep that in mind for next time. Mental note: throwing up for hours on end gets Grissom into the shower with me," she said, making writing motions with her hands.
"Cute." He reached over and snatched her towel, hiding a smile. "Now – don't you think you should get out of this wet room before your delicate system catches a chill?" He crossed behind her, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and began pushing her gently toward the door. "Gotta get you dressed, you know, so you don't get even sicker." She turned her head and regarded him warily. Grissom sighed. "And so I don't get the shakes again and collapse at your feet, ok?"
Sara wiggled her eyebrows at his half-naked form as she pulled on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. "You know, I'm actually hungry. Did we have any leftovers from the other night?"
Grissom, buttoning his pants, raised an eyebrow pointedly at her shorts and smiled. "No, but tell you what: I make a mean grilled cheese. How about you get settled on the couch and I'll make you a sandwich." He opened the refrigerator. "You want tomato on yours?" When Sara nodded, he gave her a soft shove toward the couch and began to gather the ingredients for their sandwiches.
