Title: "The Cheap Stuff"
Author: Ann
Rating: PG-13
Summary: G/S Sex or chocolate? Hmm. Sara's big decision. Response to Challenge.
CSI is not mine. If it was, I would donate it to all the talented ff authors out there! (You know who you are—write more!)
---Big thanks to Mossley for betaing this. And for pestering –I mean pushing- me to write this! I made the word limit! Oh, wait, I lie. I didn't. Over by about 500 words. But, hey, I don't get graded! But, reviews are good! And thank you in advance for any of you who take the time to leave them! They are VERY much appreciated.
"I'm with Sara on this," Jacqui said, "chocolate is better than sex."
Grissom found himself coming to a quick halt outside of the print lab after that little reveal. He glanced up and down the hall, making sure no one was witnessing him spying, then laid his ear against the doorframe.
"Of course, it depends on the quality, but I tend to agree," he heard Catherine concur.
"Quality of which?" Jacqui asked, snickering.
Grissom rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. So this is what women talk about when they have free time at work? He might have to reevaluate his case pairings.
"Hmm...both? Although, right now, I have no complaints," Catherine bragged wistfully, causing the other two women to emit quiet groans.
"Hey, guys, that reminds me. I'm not really sure how valid my initial conclusion can be...considering I haven't had either in longer than I care to remember!" Sara laughed, and the others soon joined in.
The corner of Grissom's mouth rose with this tidbit of information. He knew it wasn't fair, but even though he was still confused about how to approach her, he was sure as hell glad that she hadn't approached anyone else in the meantime. A sigh of relief escaped his smirking lips.
"How can you do without chocolate?" Jacqui inquired, mock-mortified.
"Well, the vending machine only sells the cheap stuff. When do I have time to go searching for better? Quality is important," Sara winked.
"Can't argue with that," both ladies agreed emphatically.
When they began discussing partial prints, Grissom knew the meat of the interesting stuff was over and made his way to his office, a bit of a spring in his step.
"Okay, who's the smart ass that put the chocolates in my locker?" Sara chuckled as she walked into Jacqui's domain the next evening, seeing her two suspects sitting together conspiratorially.
"What chocolate?" Jacqui asked, interestedly.
Sara noticed the sincerity in her inquisitiveness, potentially ruling her out as the culprit. That left Catherine, who was staring at her like she had two heads. Sara lifted the box of chocolates up into view as she stepped closer to the pair.
"Ooh, Scharffen Berger. That's the good stuff!" Catherine grabbed the fancy box from Sara and began loosening the wrapping and lifting the lid of the decorative box. "No offense, but if I were to splurge, I sure as hell wouldn't give it away."
Catherine popped a piece of the creamy chocolate in her mouth and moaned orgasmically. "This is the kind that's better than sex! Try this," she pushed the box across the table towards Jacqui who quickly snagged a piece and showed a similar reaction.
"Hey! I thought you 'wouldn't give it away'!" Sara huffed, teasingly.
"I didn't buy it! I find myself more generous when my wallet isn't affected."
"Well, then who did buy it?"
"Secret admirer?" Jacqui proposed, popping another chocolate.
"Gimme that!" Sara snatched the box from the two hoarders. By God, if someone was going to give her pricey chocolate, she was going to be the one gorging on it! "I'm keeping my eye on you two," Sara warned as she fled from the room.
After work that morning, Sara lounged on her sofa watching TV. She decided on her expensive chocolates and a cup of coffee in lieu of a normal breakfast.
It was still eating at her...who had given her those chocolates? The conversation in the print lab was only between the three of them, and Catherine and Jacqui seemed sincerely interested as to the sender of her little gift.
Damn.
They were either seriously pulling her leg, or there was a fairy out there delivering the high-quality stuff to under-chocolated females. She laughed to herself, wondering if she could get lucky enough to be visited by the Sex Fairy too.
Her eyebrow lifted when a knock at the door prevented her mind from wandering into the land of eroticism. She shook her head at the irony of having an unexpected visitor. Raising herself up off of the couch, she stretched and padded towards the front door, curiosity piquing with every step.
Upon opening the door, she was greeted with a soft "hi" and a pair of bright blue eyes. An embarrassing throaty laugh caught in her throat, gurgling to the surface.
She eyed him curiously with furrowed brows. "Is my cell phone off?"
He pursed his lips and shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Is it?"
"Why are you here?" she asked softly. Lord knows she wasn't complaining. But the curiosity bug had bitten for, seemingly, the millionth time today.
"Can I come in?" He squeezed through the cracked door, ignoring her question and not waiting for an answer to his own.
She shut the door behind him and leaned back against it with a sigh. Damn, he looked good. As the shock of seeing him on her doorstep started wearing off, Sara had the opportunity to visually take him in. From head to toe he looked ruggedly handsome, donning worn loafers, faded jeans, and an untucked silver-gray camp shirt.
When he turned and caught her staring, she blushed and then frowned to distract him. "Why did you say you were here again?"
"I didn't say." Her eyes kept twitching, skimming over him. He panicked briefly, wondering if maybe he had remnants of his breakfast clinging to his beard...or worse, maybe his fly was unzipped. He weighed his options and decided that letting her see his boxers would be less humiliating than checking right here in front of her. A deep breath later, he composed himself enough to alleviate his foolish worries and begin his ramblings. "I don't really know why I'm here. No, that's not right. I do, but am not sure how to explain it."
"Try?" she implored, wondering how he went from smooth to panicked in mere seconds. When he closed the distance between them, she realized how. She was panicking too. What the hell was going on here? There had to be a simple explanation for--.
"This," he pulled something from his pocket, "is the best explanation I can give."
A Hershey bar?
What?
Wait. Oh. Ooooh. Chocolate.
No. Couldn't be.
Could it?
"What?" she drawled out, figuring that playing dumb wouldn't be totally inaccurate and was probably her best bet for getting answers right now.
"This is me," he answered softly, gesturing with his free hand to the candy and smiling when she wrinkled her nose in confusion. "I'm the cheap kind."
"Oh, God," she whimpered, shaking her head and wishing she'd kept her big mouth shut.
"It's okay." He stroked her arm, running his fingers up and down in a soothing motion, causing gooseflesh to appear under his touch. "You need to know why I haven't pursued this? I'm telling you. I don't think I deserve you. I don't think I can make you happy. I'd give my life trying if I thought I could succeed. But sometimes the fear of failure overwhelms the potential benefits of success."
"You're crazy," she interrupted, launching herself into his arms.
"Another strike against me."
"Shut up." Her smiled landed on his neck, fading into a light kiss. One peck turned into several and soon she was making her way to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. "Why did you send me that chocolate?" she asked, suspending her seduction momentarily.
"Mm..I wanted you to have a taste of the quality stuff before settling for less."
"Fair enough." She had wanted the quality stuff for years, and no matter what he thought, she knew she had it right here in her arms.
Her mouth brushed his in a feather-light caress. She pulled back slightly and licked her lips, humming her appreciation.
Not satisfied as a static participant, Grissom crushed into her, beginning, then deepening, another kiss. They both moaned and grunted, exchanging places time and time again against the cold, flat surface of the front door. She began fumbling with his shirt buttons, but her shaky hands wouldn't cooperate long enough to accomplish anything.
"I need you."
"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" he argued. He knew that if they kept at this, that they wouldn't stop. After this many years of waiting and wanting, that didn't exactly sound like a bad idea to him. But her objections would be his main concern.
"I want you." She ran her hands up and under his shirt, reveling in the feel of his broad back beneath her fingertips.
"Sara—"
"Make love to me." She needed him. She needed to show him how much she loved him...to flush away the doubts that lingered in his head. Pressing herself against him, she allowed her hands to roam across every reachable inch of his body.
"What makes you think I'm ready to do that?" he teased, knowing damn well that he was ready. He trailed wet kisses across her collarbone, shoving her tank top down her shoulder to expose more flesh for the taking.
"Your fly is unzipped."
How did he keep getting himself into these situations?
The End.