A/N: Sorry it took so long. I found this chapter incredibly hard to write. I had no desire for it to turn into total smut, for one big reason. Although the characters here are (unfortunately) not real, the actors who portray them are. And even though we're talking about Grissom and Sara, it's really William Petersen and Jorja Fox's bodies that we're dealing with. Personally, if I was an actor and I saw this kind of stuff written about me, I'd probably be completely embarrassed. So even though I am aware that they will NEVER see this, I tried to handle it somewhat delicately out of respect. I upped the rating anyway, though, because regardless of how delicately I worded it, a sex scene is…a sex scene.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Grissom attacked Sara with a vengeance. They had managed to snag an empty elevator, and Grissom was intent on taking full advantage of the situation. They were kissing passionately, hands roaming everywhere, when they simultaneously realized that the elevator wasn't moving.

"Key card," Sara mumbled breathlessly against Grissom's lips. Of course. The top three floors required key card access for the elevator. Without removing her lips from Grissom's, Sara fumbled in her purse for the card. Finding it, she pressed it into Grissom's hand. Grissom attempted to slide the card into the slot by the button bearing the number "36" without taking his lips—or eyes—off of Sara.

Finally, frustrated, he whispered, "Dammit," and disentangled himself long enough to slide the card in and out quickly. On command, the elevator began moving. With a devilish grin, Gil Grissom resumed his explorations of Sara's body. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and smelling every exposed inch of skin. His hands moved all over her body, first pressing against her breasts, then moving down to her hips and back to her ass. He pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel how aroused he was. She moaned in his mouth. While his hands were exploring her entire body in a mad rush, she couldn't seem to remove hers from his hair. She loved twirling her fingers through his curls. His hair was amazingly soft.

As the elevator reached the 36th floor and the doors opened, Grissom broke away from Sara, leaned down to pick up the gift-wrapped mystery package and led Sara out into the hallway, walking backward. When he reached the door to the suite, he slipped the key card in, opened the door, and did something Sara would have never expected. He tossed the box inside, then reached down and swept Sara off her feet, carrying her into the foyer. She squealed and giggled in delight. As the door closed behind them, Grissom gently put her down and approached her longingly. He pressed her back to the door, once again kissing her with the passion of a man who has waited far too long for the love of his life. As their fervent explorations reached a crescendo, Grissom suddenly pulled back, out of breath. Sara looked at him, confused.

He spoke. "I want to do this right." He reached down and picked up the box. "I told you I'd explain this when we got up here. Umm… This was, uh, Catherine's idea. All I know is that it's lingerie—but I haven't seen it, so I don't know what it looks like. If you want, you can wear it, but, um, if you're not comfortable with the idea…" His voice trailed off as he wondered if he was being way too presumptuous.

To his surprise, Sara smiled. "That was really nice of her. I'll definitely go have a look at it. You'll still be here when I get back, right?" She raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

"You're kidding, right? If you're going to come out in lingerie, I'm going to be here."

She walked toward the bedroom. "You wait in the bedroom and I'll go in the bathroom to change, ok?"

Once inside the bathroom, Sara slipped the ribbon off of the box and tore the paper off. She discovered a pink and white striped Victoria's Secret box. Slipping the lid off, she discovered a handwritten note sitting atop the tissue paper.

Dear Sara,

If you're reading this, then the evening must be going QUITE well! I hope you're not angry with me for doing this. I don't want you to think that I just automatically assumed that you would end up in bed together, but you two have waited so long for this, I thought it was a definite possibility! Therefore, I wanted you to be appropriately outfitted. I went to Victoria's Secret and picked a little something up for you. I figured there was no point in maxing Grissom's card out on some outrageously expensive piece of lingerie that's going to stay on your body for approximately five seconds until Grissom rips it off of you and leaves it in a crumpled heap on the floor. At any rate, I hope you like this, and I hope he does, too. I tried to choose something tasteful AND sexy—I want you to be comfortable. And Sara, just so you know, I'm unbelievably happy for you guys, and I hope tonight is wonderful for you.

Love,

Catherine

Sara had to fight to keep tears from welling up in her eyes. She and Catherine had not gotten off to the best of starts, but over time, they had developed a very comfortable friendship. Sara had never appreciated it as much as she did right now.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back the tissue paper. Underneath lay a beautiful satin chemise with a pair of matching bikini panties and a coordinating satin robe. Holding the chemise up, she examined it. Low cut with spaghetti straps, very short, and plain, but classy. Catherine had chosen a deep maroon color that would complement Sara's skin perfectly. Sara was thrilled with Catherine's selection. This was something that she would feel totally comfortable in, and she was pretty sure that Grissom would like it, too.

Sara slipped out of her Prada dress and hung it up in the closet. She removed her shoes and panties, and then proceeded to slip into the panties and chemise that Catherine had chosen. She looked in the mirror, evaluating her appearance. She was happy with what she saw. The chemise was extremely flattering on her. Her neck looked long and graceful, and the short cut of the chemise set her legs off to perfection. She took a deep breath, wrapped the robe around her, cinching the sash loosely around her waist, and stepped out of the bathroom. Grissom was standing by the window, his back to her, taking in the view of the Strip. She noticed his jacket, flung over a chair. Taking him in for a moment, unobserved, Sara was struck again by how handsome he was. She loved those amazing curls—'God, his hair was so soft in my fingers…' --and his broad shoulders were incredibly enticing under the crisp white dress shirt. His strong hands were shoved into his pockets, giving him an amazing casual look that made Sara burn with lust. Damn it all, she wanted him—now.

Softly, she spoke. "Hey."

Grissom turned to her. For a moment, he didn't speak. His eyes locked with hers, then broke away to wander up and down her body a few times. 'My God…She is beautiful. She's never been more perfect than in this moment. Thank you, Catherine.' Suddenly, Grissom remembered to breathe, and as he sucked in a deep breath, Sara leaned her head to the side a little bit.

Clearing her throat, she finally whispered, "Are you just going to stand there and gape, or are you going to come find out what's under this robe?"

Grissom gave her the faintest of grins as he gingerly stepped toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. As he closed the last foot or so of distance between them, he reached up and took her face in his hands. He whispered to her, "God, Sara…You look stunning," as he pressed his lips to hers. Her arms encircled his neck as he deepened the kiss. Grissom dropped his hands from her face and slid them down to her waist. As he found the sash that held the robe closed, he pulled back from the kiss. In a low voice, he said, "I want to do this right…take it slow. I want this to be…perfect," he breathed. Sara nodded slowly.

Grissom pulled at the sash, untying the loose knot. The robe fell open, revealing the perfectly matching maroon chemise beneath. Grissom's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of a lingerie-clad Sara Sidle before him. He reached up and gently pushed the robe off of her shoulders and down her arms, leaving it in a small heap on the floor. He stepped back for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, trying to commit this moment to memory. Sara broke his reverie when she reached up and grasped his necktie. "I think you're a little overdressed for the occasion, Griss," she whispered lustily. She yanked at the already-loosened tie until it slipped from its knot. She tossed it haphazardly on the chair where his jacket lay. Turning back to him, she grabbed at his shirttails until his shirt was fully untucked. Grissom stilled her movements by pressing a gentle finger to her lips.

"Slowly, remember?" he chided. Before she could respond, he swept her up in his arms again and placed her on the bed. When he scooped her up, he realized that he had his hands on her smooth, bare thighs, and he briefly wondered how he was ever going to hold it together. 'God, why did I say we were going to take it slowly?' he wondered to himself. His hands brushed against the fabric of her panties as he removed his arms from beneath her and it was all he could do not to just attack her.

He slowly climbed atop the bed with her, straddling her playfully. Sara reached up and grasped his face in her hands, pulling him down toward her. As she kissed him, she moved her hands to the buttons on his shirt, slowly—torturously—undoing them one…by…one. When she was done, he sat up, pulling the shirt off and tossing it over his shoulder to the floor.

"Now, then, we're making progress," Sara said with a mischievous smirk. "But you're still overdressed. Out of the t-shirt. Now!" she commanded. Grissom complied, feeling only a little self-conscious as he pulled the white t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

As Grissom pulled his t-shirt off, Sara looked up at him in awe. How many times had she lain in bed, wondering what his bare chest looked like? And here she was—staring up at the love of her life, seeing him bare-chested for the first time. She reached up and slowly caressed his skin. He closed his eyes in pleasure as Sara's perfect hands ran across his chest. Sara was surprised to see that his chest was smooth. For some reason, she had expected it to be hairy. She reveled in the feel of his smooth muscles under her hands. Sliding her hands to his sides, holding his ribcage firmly, she pulled him toward her. He abandoned the straddling position and laid himself on her fully. He pressed his hands against her breasts, feeling them through the chemise. He wanted to rip the fabric off of her body, but he knew that if he prolonged his torture, it would be more pleasurable for them both in the end.

With a sudden move, Sara pushed up and rolled him over; she was now straddling him. She reached down, slowly, smoothly, and pulled at his belt. She unbuckled it and slid it from his pants. Tossing it over her shoulder, she then moved to the button on the offending piece of clothing. Looking him straight in the eye with as much lust as a woman ever looked at a man, she unbuttoned his pants and slowly unzipped them. She watched, satisfied, as Grissom's eyes rolled back in his head. She was definitely having the kind of effect she had hoped for. She tugged at his pants and he lifted his hips obligingly. She slid them down his legs, revealing a pair of navy blue cotton boxers. Tossing them aside, she pulled off his socks for good measure.

"There," she purred. "I think you're getting closer to being properly dressed for the occasion, don't you think?"

"Mmm," he replied. Looking her up and down, he said, "However, you seem to be a little overdressed now…" He sat up on the bed. They were now both in a sitting position, legs facingopposite directions. Reaching to kiss her, he moved closer. He unexpectedly rose up on his knees, breaking the kiss. He looked down at her adoringly. Reaching down, he ran his hands down the sides of the smooth satin. When he reached the bottom, he gripped the hem in his hands and looked into her eyes, silently giving her permission to stop him if she wasn't comfortable. Seeing nothing but desire reflected in her brown eyes, he slowly pulled the chemise up over her head, first revealing dainty panties, then her smooth, taut stomach, and finally her breasts. He was breathless with desire as he tossed the lingerie on the floor, true to Catherine's prophecy. He gently reached out to her. Taking her in his arms, he laid her back on the pillows so he could admire her almost bare body.

Sara, for her part, was absolutely shocked at how comfortable she was. As much as she knew she loved Grissom, she still expected to feel the requisite self-consciousness that usually presented itself when naked before a new lover for the first time. But as she lay there, letting his eyes wash over her, she felt nothing of the sort. Perhaps her out-of-control hormones were obscuring the embarrassment, but Sara felt that it was more likely that the entire situation was just meant to be.

Bringing herself back to the present, she breathed out and allowed her eyes to flutter closed as Grissom brought himself back down on top of her. As his hands came into contact with her bare breasts for the first time she thought that this might be the most excruciatingly pleasurable torture she had ever endured. When his mouth replaced his hands, she knew she had assessed the situation appropriately. This was…nothing short of torture. She impatiently bucked her hips against him, reminding him that they were both still semi-clothed. She reached down and assaulted his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

He laughed against her breasts—a sensation like nothing she had ever experienced. "Impatient, are we?" he teased.

"Grissom," Sara growled. "I can't decide if you're trying to pleasure me or punish me!" She unexpectedly changed her tone from frustrated to pleading. "Please, Griss… Please."

Grissom's mouth fell open against his will. Holy shit. Was Sara Sidle begging him? Was Sara Sidle begging him? Him? Dear God in Heaven. He looked into her eyes, and there he saw her desire, her neediness, her desperation. She had waited so long for this moment—she needed him desperately.

Obliging her, she shoved his boxers the rest of the way down his legs and kicked them off. He was still more or less on top of her, leaning on his hands, but his position afforded Sara an ever-so-brief glimpse at his anatomy before he leaned back down to kiss her belly. As his mouth workedits way south, Sara moaned in equal parts pleasure and frustration. When he reached the top of her panties, he glanced up at her for reassurance before sliding his fingers under the satin. He slowly tugged at the one remaining piece of clothing separating them. Sara lifted her hips ever so slightly, allowing him to slip the panties down her legs. His hands caressed her perfectly smooth legs as he pulled her underwear off and dropped it carelessly on the bed. He took in her naked body with reverence as he reached for her hands. Pulling her up, they both sat up on their knees. He drew her to him and swept his arms around her. Gripping her small waist firmly, he pressed their bare chests together and buried his face in her hair.

"I just wanted to feel you in my arms, as close as possible, for a moment," he whispered adoringly. "You are so beautiful."

He heard the tears in her voice as she said, "Is this really happening?"

A whisper. "Yes." It was said so quietly Sara wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. She pulled back to see tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry I waited."

Sara pressed a single finger to his lips and pulled him down on top of her. Her mouth hungrily searched his out, and she spread her legs slightly beneath him. He reached down, feeling her out with his fingers. Sara gasped at his touch. He could not believe how very obviously aroused she was. Just as he was about to pleasure her with his fingers, she broke their kiss. He looked down into her eyes, seeing that raw desperation for the second time. She begged him again, "Please Griss…Please. I need this."

Removing his hand, he pressed down onto her again. He paused for the slightest of moments, and then slowly entered her, his eyes never leaving hers. He began to move within her, unhurried, wanting everything about their first lovemaking experience to be nothing short of perfection. Despite Sara's earlier comments about "mature" men lasting longer, he knew that his immense physical desire for her would make the task difficult. As he felt himself approach climax, he ceased his movements. Sara searched his eyes, alarmed.

"What? What is it? Why did you stop?"

"I don't get mine until you get yours. I was close, so I needed to stop. Sorry." He hoped she didn't misinterpret his terseness as rudeness. In reality, he was just concentrating very hard on taking his libido down a notch or two.

Sara smiled up at him. "I see. It's not a problem. I was afraid you weren't enjoying yourself."

Grissom responded to that absurdity with a raised eyebrow and a look of "Are-you-kidding-me?" Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he began to move inside her again. He suddenly felt the need to kiss her, and he bent and took her lips between his own. As their tongues met, their lovemaking became more urgent, and their breath began to get ragged. Grissom felt fairly certain that Sara was close, and he wanted to watch her. He pulled up out of the kiss and stared into her eyes as she thrust against him.

"More," she whispered. "More…" He responded to her pleas.

'God, she better come soon or I'm going to have to stop again…Hang on, Grissom. Be a man!'

He watched in awe as Sara suddenly gasped and arched up against him. Their eyes never broke contact as she writhed beneath him. He had wondered—and fantasized—so many times about what she would sound like during orgasm. He had never expected her to be a screamer—it just didn't seem like her style. And true to form, she wasn't. His sheer amazement at her quiet demeanor helped him stave off his own climax for a few more seconds. During that time, he took in every sensation and stored it to memory—the look of pure ecstasy and adoration in her eyes as they locked with his, the quiet sound of her gasps, the feel of her hands on his back, pulling him closer, and the intense sensations she created when her muscles clenched around him. That final sensation drove him over the edge, and he added his own gasps to the sounds filling the room. Still keeping his eyes locked on hers, they came together, grabbing each other for dear life.

When they were both sated, Grissom collapsed onto Sara, pulling her close to him. He felt that even though he had just been inside her, he couldn't possibly get close enough to her in this moment. He rolled to his side, holding her tightly in his arms. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, "I love you." In response, she gave a small sob. Grissom jerked back, terrified of what he had done to make her cry.

Sara recognized his alarm and reached out to reassure him. "No," she whispered. "They're happy tears. And extreme stress-relief tears," she added with a tiny laugh and a sniffle.

He laughed quietly and leaned back into her, relieved. "Shh…" he comforted her. He stroked her hair and rocked her as she cried herself out.

"Griss?" she said finally.

"Yes, Baby?"

"I love you, too."

A/N: Oh, yeah, Baby! But don't go away—there's more to come! Yup, that's right, I'm Griss and Sara crazy, and one little hookup isn't going to satisfy me! I've taken them so far OOC it's not even funny, so it won't hurt to take it a little farther! Stay tuned!