Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.

Song: Gravity's Job by Mali Woods at - go check out some neo-folk.

Spoilers: through Season 4

Status: Incomplete

I've modified the environment (her apartment/his townhouse) to fit my story. Reviewers rock! Thanks for your comments. Sorry it's taken a while to post, RL has thrown me for a loop this week.

Sara sat in the kitchen, bemused at the situation. She gazed curiously around her, taking in the sight of Grissom's apartment with professional ease. Geez, could he own a smaller couch? she wondered. It looks pretty uncomfortable. You can't even stretch out. Glancing around there was a distinctive lack of creature comforts. There wasn't even a single rug on the floor. If it hadn't been for the plethora of bugs adorning the apartment there was hardly a hint of the owner's personality. I wonder why... Sara set that thought aside for later as she heard Grissom approaching from the hallway.

"Sara, we have a problem." Grissom leaned against the bar counter adjacent to the kitchen and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"What's up?" Sara inwardly cringed, part of her wondering if he was going to suggest she rent a hotel room. She was about to suggest it herself and spare him the trouble, but she clamped her lips shut. Sara, for once, let him finish and go from there. She had promised herself she would try to stop over-talking around him and see if that got her anywhere.

Straightening up, he eventually explained "I think my shower would be hazardous in your current condition." He paused, looking at Sara.

Okaaaay, Sara thought keeping his gaze without speaking, let him finish...

Surprisingly Sara didn't comment, just looked at him. "Aside from the awkwardness of manufacturing some sort of waterproof footwear, the shower is basically a glass enclosure. I'm worried that you might loose your balance. I'm skeptical about how sturdy the walls would be should you fall." He had no idea why he felt he had to justify himself.

Calmly she replied, "Okay, what's the other option?"

"A sort-of shower. I have a bath with a shower attachment." Grissom kept to the facts. "You'll have no trouble sitting on the ledge."

Grissom takes a bath? She herself hadn't had one in ages. She raised her eyebrows at Grissom and he slightly shrugged. She wasn't proud of it, but a part of her was enjoying Grissom's discomfort immensely. There was no way in hell she was going to say no to this! Play it cool, she advised herself. "Sounds good."

He moved forward as Sara levered herself up from the chair. She noticed that Grissom didn't hesitate putting his arm around her like he had been earlier. Good to know he doesn't find me repulsive. That's something at least. With her shoe off and foot bandaged, she probably could hobble on her own, but hey, she wasn't going to deny herself the help. She grasped his shoulder, enjoying his warmth and masculine scent while she could.

There was just the barest of hint of hesitance as they entered his bedroom. Sara got a quick impression of dark masculine furniture and an indigo-colored bed as they made their way across the room to the master bath. Once in the door, Sara gaped in surprise.

"Is that a whirl-jet tub?" Sara grinned and Grissom couldn't do anything but smile in response. "I can't believe you own one of these!"

Her enthusiasm negated any awkwardness Grissom initially felt. Gesturing to the impressive oval tub housed in an elevated slate platform he explained, "I had it installed about a while ago. I chose this particular one under the advice of a friend of mine at the CDC." At her questioning look he replied, "This is a 'pipe-less' model that allows you to clean the jet ways, decreasing the likelihood of staphylococcus and legionella that are common potential hazards in the usual hot tubs or whirl-jets."

Grissom eased her down onto the platform. "I wouldn't have bought one if Seth hadn't done the tests himself. Interesting work..." Grissom trailed off in thought while Sara ran her hand over the grey slate. "Uhh, there's the attachment," he gestured to the handheld sprayer off to the side. " You can probably rinse yourself down easily enough." Grissom started to blush, then turned around to rummage in the cupboard behind him. "Here's a towel and washcloth." Sara put the items aside.

"Grissom, if you don't mind, there is no way I'm not going use the tub!" She widely grinned, exposing that charming gap between her teeth. He reluctantly smiled back. "Of course, Sara."

Grissom explained the controls then headed out the door, snagging his toiletries. "Once you get the tub filled I'll take a quick shower myself." He paused in the doorway, catching her eyes before he said, "Enjoy yourself, Sara." He winked and smiled, then shut the door softly behind him.

Sara didn't know what to think. Now what did that mean? Was he flirting? Or being literal? She shook her head. C'mon Sara, don't get mental over it. Grissom so often would run hot then cold, she never really knew what his reactions would be. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. What ever the hell that means. Sara decided to let it go, and undressed, putting a smaller towel beneath her as a shield against the chill of the slate.

As she lathered then ran blissfully hot water over her body, rinsing the soap off she wondered why Grissom had this immensely self-indulgent tub. It wasn't the sort of thing that he'd do on a whim; there was way too many logistics involved in the installation and Griss wasn't a whimsical person. Understatement of the year. Rinsing her hair thoroughly (there wasn't any shampoo around and she forgot to ask) she started to fill the tub, unconsciously singing the song from earlier in the day.

Until we hit the earth, the world goes spinning by..

its gravity's job to pull me down
not yours
air born between the legs of the sky
so swiftly so softly we fall
until we hit the earth...

Once the bath was filled and the jets were happily bubbling away, Sara eased herself down, carefully propping her injured foot up on the ledge of the tub. Oh man. She shut her eyes, and leaned backward, blissfully letting herself enjoy the moment. She'd ask him about the tub later.

Grissom heard the water start running, then in a gesture his mother would have been proud of, changed the sheets on the bed. He certainly wanted Sara to get some rest, and figured that though the odds of getting her to accept getting some sleep in his bed were slim, it was better to be prepared than not.

"Proper preparation prevents poor performance." He thought. Now where did that quote come from? He shrugged, decided it was likely from his early experience with the Boy Scouts. He'd clear off an area in the spare room that doubled as a home office / insect conservatory so he could also get some rest. As he gathered clothes for himself to put on after his shower, he realized he didn't offer the same to Sara. Putting his items in the shower, he heard the jets start up in the tub. Blocking out the mental image, he turned and headed out for Sara's extra clothes on the kitchen counter. As he picked up her jeans and top, something dark fell from the pocket of her jeans.

Unthinking, Grissom picked it up when the silkiness of the material sent an immediate reaction to both his brain and his masculinity. Mesmerized, Grissom slowly unraveled the slight purple item until its identity was revealed between his hands.

These, he thought dizzily and scientifically, are Sara's panties.

TBC

Author's note: These tubs exist and are called "Sanijet" tubs, but I've never used one. The information they provide about the bacteria and organisms that flourish in hot tubs could definitely be used in an episode of CSI.