Trading Spaces (2/2)

By Joan Powers

Earlier that evening

The water in the sink was running full force so Sara was having trouble hearing over her cell phone. "Huh? I can't hear you."

"Turn off the water."

"She'll hear me," she replied, slightly panicked

"Just do it," the voice sternly insisted.

As Sara complied she whispered, "What are you watching? "The Secret Life of Birds"? Gil, isn't that awfully loud? I can hear it loud and clear in here. Are you having problems with your hearing again?"

Not wasting any words Grissom curtly responded, "No, it's a more effective sound barrier than your running water. I have to see you."

She sadly added, "I know. I miss you too."

Ever since their first encounter a few months ago, they seemed to be making up for lost time. They'd spent every possible moment together, sharing new non-work related activities and getting to know one another on a more intimate level. They'd always spend the night together in each other's arms, sometimes at his place and sometimes at hers. Being apart from each other while they were absent from work was unacceptable to them. Unfortunately, due to their quirky work schedule and some very untimely pages, the two of them hadn't slept together for almost five days.

"Maybe I could go yell at the desk clerk about the room arrangements again," Grissom muttered.

"All that'll do is raise your blood pressure. Besides, you let him know exactly how you felt earlier and it didn't make a difference," she reminded him.

After the hellacious week he'd just endured, the thought of spending some uninterrupted time with his girlfriend was the only thing that had kept him sane. It was bad enough that the unavoidable conference was a complete waste, but when their room arrangements had fallen apart, it was the last straw; he'd lost his temper. That poor desk clerk had experienced the full wrath of Gil Grissom.

Sara had been equally disappointed. Trying to distract him, she suggested, "Want to go outside for a walk?"

"It's twenty degrees out there and dark in the woods," he complained.

"So? You can keep me warm."

"I want to warm you up in different ways."

"I knew that," she grinned suggestively. "Don't feel like living dangerously?"

"Sara, neither of us is seventeen anymore," Grissom grimly reminded her.

"Guess that rules out the SUV too?" she teased. Knowing their luck, one of them would throw out his back and require medical attention. Talk about announcing their relationship with a bang. That'd be more than either of them could handle.

As far as they knew, no one was aware that they were seeing each other. Being private people, they preferred it that way. Surprisingly enough not even the usually astute Catherine had caught on; otherwise she would've grilled Grissom relentlessly about it. It was probably because she'd been so involved with Warrick that she hadn't picked up on the clues.

Sounding a little desperate, he urged, "I need to touch you."

"I know. I want you too baby," she breathed.

"Damn it, Warrick will be back any moment. Guess I'll take a cold shower," his voice was filled with frustration.

Sara protested, "No! Don't give up yet." She tried to pace in the minute room but was only able to take two steps before hitting the bathtub. "Let me think. How about I scout out the hotel for any private locations? I don't think we'd need much time."

"You'd be right about that," he agreed enthusiastically. "But how are you going to justify prowling around the hotel in the middle of the night?"

She smiled as it came to her. "Honey, your girlfriend has insomnia and doesn't want to disturb her roommate."

"It has potential. But it's gotta be bigger than an airplane bathroom."

She chuckled at his reference to one of her sexual exploits when she was younger. "Give me some time."

"I don't know if I can do something like this." Grissom sounded worried.

"Make love in a janitor's closet? Why not? It could be fun. And who's going to be awake this time of night? Do you honestly think you can survive the entire day of boring meetings tomorrow while sitting right beside me? I don't know about you, but if your arm would happen to accidentally brush against me, I might not be responsible for the consequences of my actions."

"You won't be able to wear your present." Grissom had been adventurous and bought Sara some black lace lingerie, mail order, of course.

"Yeah, but I'm sure we'll have many other occasions to enjoy that."

For the first time, he seemed to calm down, "If you do figure out something, what am I going to tell Warrick?"

"Absolutely nothing. You're Gil Grissom. No one expects an explanation from you."

Later

Sara closed her forensics journal after she finished reading the last article. Unfortunately, although it was late, she knew she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep, so she got out of bed to search for something else to read. Goose bumps immediately appeared on her naked body; she was cold. She was tempted to put on a T-shirt, but she'd be back under the covers soon enough.

She stepped over clothing that had been randomly strewn on the floor, to retrieve an entomology journal that had been haphazardly tossed there earlier that evening. Good, she hadn't read this one yet. She tucked it under her arm and proceeded to sneak back to bed.

The warmth of the blankets plus the heat generated by Grissom's naked body was more than enough to keep her comfortable. She pressed closer to his body as she examined him; his chest rose and fell evenly. He was fast asleep.

Feeling lonely and eager for his touch, she wanted to wake him up, for their earlier encounter had been rushed and brief. She wasn't too disappointed, she knew he wasn't going to be able to hold back long, it'd been too many days since they'd last made love. Afterwards, he'd even apologized, promising to make it up to her later. She smiled, knowing he'd more than make good on his word.

Surprisingly, Grissom didn't require much sleep, but if he didn't reach his quota, he'd be a grouch. So she'd have to be patient and let him sleep a while longer. It would be her turn soon. Grissom could've told her the source of the quote, "Good things come to those who wait."

"You are such a tease." Sara breathlessly complained as Grissom methodically kissed and caressed her body, while studiously avoiding all of her most sensitive areas. "This is torture." Her body was swaying slightly as she quivered with anticipation.

A low chuckle emerged from his throat as he continued exactly what he was doing. Always the scientist and a keen observer, he especially enjoyed studying this subject. The feel of her body and her scent thrilled him. After several months, he'd learned how to maximize his woman's pleasure. He'd paid close attention to her responses to his actions: the quickness of her breath, the motion of her pelvis, her involuntary gasps of pleasure, and the magnitude of her responses. Sara was like a magnificent instrument that he'd learned to play. Yet, it wasn't a control issue, he simply wanted to increase her enjoyment.

Sensing she was eager for more, he allowed his fingertips to approach her nipples. A low moan escaped her lips. He touched them lightly then ever so slightly increased the pressure exerted by his fingers. Sara was trembling with desire; her face became flushed as she arched her back to press herself closer to her lover.

Her body continued to rock as he allowed his tongue to graze her nipples and his fingers to explore her more sensitive inner regions. "Oh God," she murmured, as she ground her pelvis against him.

Her level of arousal skyrocketed as he placed his lips around her nipple and began to suck, first one, then the other. Her breathing was rapid as her body writhed with excitement.

Minutes later, at Sara's urging, he slowly worked his way down her body, licking and kissing her stomach then her inner thighs, while at the same time still maintaining the delicious sensations as he stroked her with his fingers.

"C'mom Gil," she begged, voice heavy with passion. "Please."

As he finally replaced those probing fingers with his tongue, Sara wildly thrust her hips towards him. Close to ecstasy, she'd lost control and completely forgotten herself. She moaned.

Loudly.

Catherine stirred groggily, "Huh? What was that?" She was only partially awake.

The cry sounded again.

"Do you hear that?"

Warrick pried his eyes open, "How could I not?"

The moans became louder followed by a cry, "Oh God, oh God, don't stop."

The two exchanged bemused glances. "Sounds like somebody else is having a good time too."

"I think the noise will stop soon," Warrick predicted, as the cries continued to escalate in intensity along with intermittent screams of 'Oh God' and "Don't stop."

Catherine was about to drift back to sleep, when she sat bolt upright. "Wait a minute. That sounds awfully close." And that voice sounded strangely familiar.

Finally the screaming and the moaning peaked in a loud crescendo.

"Who does this stuff at four in the morning?" Warrick wondered sleepily.

"An insomniac," Catherine had figured it out. "It's Grissom and Sara."

That caught Warrick's attention, "You gotta be kiddin'."

Putting on her CSI mode, she teased, "Consider the evidence, you can hear where all that's coming from. Unless the two of them rented out your room, it's got to be them."

Warrick laughed and Catherine joined him. "We gotta take advantage of this!"

"Don't worry, I have some ideas." Catherine had a devious mind.

The clock read seven a.m. when Catherine used Warrick's room card to barge in on Grissom and Sara. The two of them were fast asleep, huddled close together beneath their covers and from Catherine's vantage point, apparently not wearing any clothing. A smirk covered her face and her eyes began to sparkle mischievously when she noticed their clothing randomly tossed on the floor, and even a bra flung over the TV.

She unceremoniously dumped Sara's suitcase onto the empty bed, then she proceeded to gather Warrick's remaining belongings from the bathroom and shove them into his suitcase. She wasn't overly concerned about noise; in fact, she was dying for the opportunity to tease Grissom.

She picked up Warrick's suitcase, and then purposely let it fall to the floor with a loud bang. Ah-ha, while Sara hadn't stirred, Grissom had. Of course, his eyes were still closed but she was aware that she had a captive audience.

"Gee Gil, I didn't know you had it in you. It looks like the Wild Kingdom in here. And it certainly sounded like it around four a.m. Or maybe more like the Discovery Channel Live." Then, more kindly, she added, "Congratulations. See you at breakfast in an hour".

The breakfast buffet was in the main dinning hall, a large formal room with a high ceiling and a magnificent wall of windows showcasing the breathtaking view of the mountains. Two large stone fireplaces were on opposite sides of the room and a blazing fire was already crackling in each of them.

Despite the ambiance offered by the palatial accommodations, the food itself was lacking. Of course, buffet was a misnomer, for the offerings were few and not overly appealing: slightly stale powered sugar donuts (no Krispy Kremes here), small packages of breakfast cereals, extra crispy toast, and some wilted fruit. Apparently the much-touted on-site chef didn't 'do' breakfast

Beverages included coffee that was strong enough to jumpstart a mule. After one sip, Catherine gagged then doused hers with a liberal amount of milk. Warrick, however was grateful for the rejuvenating properties of the caffeine, otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have stayed open. Other choices included lukewarm orange juice and a mystery solution that could've been apple juice.

Catherine and Warrick exchanged mischievous smiles as they ate and waited for their co-workers.

"Think they're coming?" Catherine examined her watch.

"They don't have a choice. Though if they could get out of it, I'm sure they would," Warrick noted.

Fully aware that they were the topic of conversation, Grissom and Sara entered the dining room and made a beeline for the coffee. Sara's face was pale and she was hiding behind her sunglasses. After obtaining their drinks, the couple reluctantly walked towards their colleagues, their cheeks turning redder with each step. As they shuffled into the available chairs at the table, the other couple couldn't resist smirking.

"Get much sleep with all the noise?" Warrick asked with a bemused grin.

"I don't know what some people were thinking last night," Catherine feigned innocence as the flush on Grissom and Sara's faces grew darker and spread to the backs of their necks. "I'm surprised the manager wasn't called, it was so loud."

Grissom shot Catherine a stern glance. Sara sighed heavily, hunched over and continued to intently stare into her coffee cup. To alleviate her obvious discomfort, Grissom pointedly clasped her hand and held it tightly on top of the table, in plain sight of everyone.

Ignoring Warrick and Catherine, he spoke to Sara. "C'mon, let's get some food." They rose to wander back to the buffet table, her hand still tightly held in his.

Lowering her voice, Catherine commented to Warrick, "Funny, she's taking this worse than he is."

Pointing out the obvious, he reminded her. "He wasn't the one everyone heard screaming at four in the morning."

"Yeah, but he didn't even bat an eye when he grabbed her hand. Did you see that? Like they've been doing that all the time." Frankly, Catherine was astonished by the boldness of her friend's actions, especially after they'd taken such pains to successfully conceal their relationship from their co-workers.

Warrick observed, "It's not that surprising. He's a pro at hiding his feelings, she's not."

"He knows it too. Guess we shouldn't rub it in too much?'

Disappointed, he agreed, "Yeah, we'll get Grissom later, somehow."

Catherine smiled, "I already got him good when I barged into his room earlier. Although I couldn't see his face, his ears were bright red."

"That must've been good," he laughed.

Sara and Grissom returned with bowls of cereal and rejoined the group at the table.

Not one to waste time, Catherine proposed, "How about we make our room arrangements permanent?'

Grissom immediately responded, "I agree."

"Gil, do we all have to attend every single meeting?" Catherine asked. She had a plan which she hoped wouldn't offend the boss's sensibilities.

Grissom explained, "Normally I'd say yes, but with the lack of quality here, it's not like we'd be missing anything." He was catching on to her thinly veiled suggestion and even considering it.

Sensing his interest, Catherine decided to run with it. "How about Warrick and I attend the afternoon meetings, and you and Sara attend the morning ones?"

Warrick added, "We can all make our appearance at 'the mixer' tonight, then go our separate ways."

Sara still hadn't spoken a word but she nodded vigorously, indicating her support.

Without hesitation, Grissom said, "Agreed. Just one thing, can we switch that? One of the speakers in the afternoon is going to be especially bad and we'd like to be there."

Warrick's eyebrows rose with amusement, "To heckle him?"

"Well, maybe ask some challenging questions," Grissom attempted to explain his intentions. "See if he really knows his stuff."

Catherine and Warrick burst out laughing. This trip was bringing out completely new dimensions of Gil Grissom. What would be next?

With those matters settled, the four then devoted their attention to their coffee and their food.

After finishing her coffee, Sara rose to get a refill. Feeling the need to speak to her privately, Catherine discretely trailed after her.

For the moment, only Warrick and Grissom were at the table. Under normal circumstances, Warrick would never have even considered doing was he was about to do. However, the events of the last few hours had been anything but ordinary. Leaning closer to Grissom, he asked, in a conspirator's whisper, "What's your secret? She was going nuts last night. What did you do?"

Smiling enigmatically, Grissom merely replied, "Warrick, a gentleman doesn't tell."

THE END