Warning: Major fluffiness. Due to the fact that GSR is now canon, I figure our geeks should be more happy rather than moody (which is very unfortunately for my other WIP). But for those who dislike fluff, you have been warned.
Anyway, review and let me know if it's too OOC. Kind of hard to write a happy-Grissom and happy-Sara without having it be OOC, so I'm up for any suggestions.
See Chapter 1 for the summary. I don't have a beta for this so all errors, grammatical or otherwise, are mine.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters...yada yada yada.
Tossing the keys on the counter, Grissom shuffled through the mail. 'Sara Sidle, from Bank of America…Sara Sidle, Forensics Weekly Magazine…Sara Sidle, The Art of Forensic Science…' he read mutely as he tossed her mail in a separate pile. 'Gil Grissom, Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Science...Gil Grissom, from Federal Grant Bureau…' His eyebrow arched as he neared the end of the pile. 'Sara Sidle, Victoria's Secret Catalog?'
"Hey," a voice startled him from behind.
He spun around, amused to find a sleepy Sara Sidle running a towel through her damp hair. He gave her an once-over and pursed his lips at her 'science' pajamas. Truth be told, he was jealous. He remembered the first time he saw Sara wear them to bed, and how he wished he shopped more. That way, he too might have found unique pajamas covered in beakers and graduated cylinders, instead of sleeping in boxers and sweats. "Hi sweetheart." He grinned and held up the catalog, "When did you order this?"
Sara blushed and closed the distance between them. Slapping him forcefully on the hip with her wet towel, she made a mock-frown. "And why are you reading my mail?"
Grissom tossed the catalog aside and grasped her wrists, effectively stopping her from physically abusing him. He noticed she smelled of soap and conditioner—a fragrance that was plain yet so uniquely Sara. "Did not," he replied innocently, "It was in plain sight; it's not like I opened anything." Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her into his embrace. "And plus, it's not my fault you're too lazy to get the mail."
Just as Sara was about to give a dry reply, she felt his lips land on her neck. "Wha—um…" She closed her eyes for the briefest second before reality came rushing back. As much as she was enjoying his ministration, it had to unfortunately come to a stop. She shoved him lightly on his chest, causing him to purse his lips at her in confusion. "What's gotten into you lately?" Sara demanded with a slap to his arm.
"Hey!" Grissom yelped as he threw his arms up in defense. "What? I can't kiss my girlfriend?"
"That, I don't mind. It's the work-Grissom I'm worried about," she replied, dragging him down the hall.
She tugged him to the bedroom, where he stopped at the closet and removed his jacket. Hanging it neatly on a clothes hanger, he questioned, "And what's wrong with the 'work-Grissom?'"
"What's wrong?" Sara gave him a pointed look as she removed her necklace. "What's wrong? Catherine was being a little…" Not finding the word she was searching for, she shook her head briefly and continued. "Catherine was clearly trying to embarrass us. And she succeeded in doing so to me. But you. You tried to be funny."
"And?"
Sara scoffed at his blank stare. "And? You're. Not. Funny." Upon seeing his look of hurt, she added, "Not at work, that is." This seemed to settle with him better as he gave her a slight grin. "The Gil Grissom everyone knows would have given her the 'Grissom-glare,' and moved on to assignments. What happened to the sulking-Grissom everyone loves to hate?"
Grissom removed his shirt and pants, walked up behind her, and grinned. He wrapped his arms around her waist and threw her on the bed in a very ungraceful move, evoking a shriek. Joining her on the paisley sheets, he remarked, "He got a life." He couldn't help but smirk as Sara raised an eyebrow, "Or better yet…a girlfriend."
"That's exactly my point," she said, jabbing her index finger on his nose. "Do you want us to be exposed?"
Grissom laughed and brushed her hand away, "Relax. I was just having a little fun with them. Call it an experiment of sorts."
"Experiment?"
"I'm disappointed in them, actually." Grissom let out a dramatic sigh, "I figured I trained them better than this. Either we're great actors, or their observation skills obviously aren't as sharp as I thought they were."
She grinned and got under the covers. "I think it's the former. It's not like we're giving them blatant evidence—not even Ecklie notices anything different in our behavior."
"That doesn'tsurprise me," he replied, "Ecklie couldn't find evidence if it fell in his lap."
"Oh relax, Gris. It's not them—we…are just professional at work," she smiled at him as he slid under the covers. "And that's how we're supposed to be."
"What if I don't want to be?"
"What?"
Grissom shook his head at the sound of her gasp, "No. Not like that. I mean…what if…I don't want to be discreet anymore?"
"Who are you and what have you done with Grissom?" she asked, shock and sarcasm both evident in her voice.
He slid his hands under the blankets and sought out hers. Finding them, he intertwined their fingers, "I meant it. What if I want to be able to kiss you goodbye when you leave for a different scene? Or just even say 'bye, I love you?'"
"This coming from the man who prefers eating in private?" she asked incredulously.
"You make me not want to be that man, Sara."
She shook her head. "I don't want you to change for me, Grissom. I love the fact you're a private person. It doesn't make me love you any less."
"I know. But I want to remind you how real this is wherever we are." He closed his eyes briefly. "It took us so long to…" Sara tilted her head up and gave him the patented pointed look. "It took me so long to get to this point," he corrected, "And I want to spend every minute making up for it."
She gave him a sad smile in return. "I'd like that. Believe me I would…but you know what the consequences are. Even if Ecklie doesn't give us crap about it, any dirty lawyer for the defense would. It could ruin cases we've built—people can twist our relationship and mold it for their own purposes. You remember the Tom Haviland case don't you?"
Grissom nodded. "Yeah, I know." He sighed dejectedly, "I just wish it were different."
She unlocked her left hand from his grip and stroked his cheek, "I know—so do I." Giving him an encouraging smile, she added, "But hey! You can always be happy/funny-Grissom at work." She smirked, "I could definitely get use to that, and I'm sure the rest of the gang could, too."
"Are you saying you don't like moody-Grissom?" he asked playfully, feeling a little foolish for addressing himself in third-person.
Sara laughed, "You were moody-Grissom for the past five years, yet I still—for some unthinkable reason—loved you. But happy-Grissom is…"
He stared at her as she trailed off.
Her lips were pursed in thought. Finally, she gave him a warm smile. "Happy-Grissom is the one that convinced me to stay in Vegas." She paused, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "He's the one I originally fell in love with," she whispered.
Grissom grinned. "In that case. Happy it is." He wrapped his arms tightly around her body, spooning himself behind her. "And that way…I wouldn't even need to be acting," he added, sliding his hand underneath her shirt.
She snorted, "Now you're just sucking up."
"Am not," he replied innocently, eyes sparkling with humor. "You make me happy," he said seriously as he nipped her ear.
"Mmmm…that would definitely make everyone suspicious."
Grissom shrugged, "If they find out…they find out. I'll just threaten them to secrecy."
Sara flipped over, removing his hand from her stomach to face him. "Gil Grissom? Playing dirty?"
"There are certain advantages to being boss."
Rolling her over, his lips descended on hers as he began to fumble with the buttons of her top. Sara moaned into his mouth—their tongues dueling for control. Breaking away, she sucked in some air. "Like what?" she questioned while his fingers continued down her chest.
"Like…" he gave her a seductive smirk. "…Telling my subordinates what I want done—and have them do it without question," he finished as his hands opened her shirt and found her breasts.
"Well…I've always had a problem with authority," Sara grinned evilly and pushed him off. Flipping him onto his back, she straddled his thighs suggestively and flung the remainder of her top off. It had been over a week since they had sex, and anything over two days without sex with Grissom was considered a drought. "I don't think I ever made it up to you last week…" she murmured, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his boxers.
"Better late than never." Pulling her down, he latched on to her neck, savoring the taste of Sara Sidle. 'It's been way to long,' he thought, while continuing to lap and suck on her skin.
She pulled down on his boxers, "Take these—" Grissom let out a groan of despair as she was interrupted by the ringing of his cell. Locking eyes with her as she perched above him, he sighed. She rolled off him reluctantly, as he remained unmoving. Giving him a little nudge, she chided, "Just answer it, Grissom."
Scowling, he snatched the nosy object from the nightstand. Briefly checking the caller ID, he growled into the phone, "Grissom."
Sara stared at the ceiling, listening to his side of the conversation. "What do you want?...No, I'm busy." Grinning, she turned over and slid a hand up his chest. "Uh—what? I mean, can't you ask Warrick?" He slapped her hand away and sat up, "No no! I uh, you don't need to come over." Sara's eyes widened. She and Grissom never told anyone they moved—well, technically Grissom still owned his townhouse and everything in it. He just wasn't living in it. "Ok fine, I'll be over in a minute."
Snapping his phone shut, Grissom glanced over at her. "Honey…"
She smiled at him warmly, "Whatever it is, I understand."
"It's another woman," he replied seriously as he got up and put on his clothes.
Sara didn't know whether to frown or grin. "Riiight," she drawled.
Fully dressed, he dived back onto the bed, left arm tackling her down. He planted a sloppy kiss on the corner of her mouth and grinned. "At least she puts out," he said teasingly.
"Keep that up—" Giving her one last kiss just to shut her up, he shimmied off the edge of the bed and headed for the door. "I'll be back soon."
"Gris?" He poked his head back through the bedroom door. "Tell Catherine I said hi."
He laughed and quietly shut the door behind him.
The door swung open just as he lifted his hand up to knock. "Thank you, Gil!" a huffing Catherine greeted him on the other side. She was zipping up her jacket hastily, grabbing her purse and keys off the end table.
He quirked an eyebrow at her, "The things I do for you…"
"Please," she responded, flipping her bangs from her eyes. "Reading an entomology textbook in bed is not considered being busy." Smirking at his fixed stare, she added, "Grab whatever you want from the fridge. My mom's flight should be landing soon, so I'll be back in about an hour." She paused a second before exiting. "Make sure she finishes her homework before school starts."
Grissom sighed, thinking about what was waiting for him at his own home. Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, he headed down the hallway, pausing at the second door to the right. "Let me guess? Got suckered into babysitting?" a voice called from inside the room.
He cocked his head at the blonde-haired teenager, partly taken aback at how much her voice sounded like her mother's. She didn't even look up at him—eyes trained on the notebook in front of her smacking her gum loudly and tapping her pen irritably. "What are you working on?" he asked, taking a step inside the room.
Lindsey turned and glared at him, "Math. Are you taking me to school today?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
She shook her head, glazing back down at her homework, "Whatever."
Grissom approached her desk, setting his water bottle down. "I haven't seen you in a while have I?"
"Miss me that much, Gil?
"Why yes. I do."
Lindsey rolled her eyes, "I was wondering who mom was calling. Ever since Warrick got married, he never comes around anymore, so I suddenly get a grandmother in my life." She whined, "I'm fourteen. When's mom going to realize it's legal for me to stay home alone now?"
Grissom grinned, "Trust isn't given; it has be earned."
Scowling at him, she thrust her algebra book in his face. "I trust you to be a good babysitter and help me finish this."
He gave her a wry smirk at being called a 'babysitter.' Grissom was many things, but a babysitter was not one of them. "And what do I get out of it?" he teased playfully.
"Um…I could tell you what mom's been saying about you," she grinned evilly as Grissom's eyebrow shot up. "But that'll be betraying her trust."
"Smart-aleck. Just like your mother."
Conveying a look of disgust, she asked, "Are you going to help me or what? School starts in less than an hour."
After quickly running through a page of algebraic equations with Lindsey, they hopped into his car and set off for her school. He stole glances at her along the way, seeing so much of Catherine in her daughter. Lindsey was obviously not stupid. Even when helping her with math, Grissom realized that she could do anything as long as she set her mind to it. Her voice brought him out of his thoughts, "Thanks for the help."
"No problem," he replied, smiling slightly. "So are you going to tell me what your dear old mother's been gossiping about?"
She shrugged, "Not much. Nick was over one morning, talking to mom about a case. I overheard them saying how they thought you have a 'secret woman' in your life."
Grissom kept his eyes trained on the road as he approached the school. "Oh?"
"Yep," she nodded. "They think it's Sara." Grissom's eyebrow shot up as he pulled the car to a stop. "Mom said she just needed proof." Lindsey gave him a grin as she opened the door and hopped out. Swing her backpack over her shoulders, she smiled. "Thanks Gil."
He nodded and returned the smile, "Have fun at school."
"You know…" she started, leaning inside the open window. "She has a point. You do seem happier." Giving him a final 'thanks,' she headed toward the building, joining a group of girls.
Grissom shook his head and couldn't repress his smirk as he dove home to the cause of his new-found happiness.
He opened the bedroom door slowly; eyes settling on the sleeping form sprawled out on the sheets. Quietly stripping down to his sleeping attire, he slipped under the covers next to her, unable to resist slinging an arm around her waist and panting a kiss near her ear. "Mmmph," came out a groan as she rolled over.
"Shh, go back to sleep."
The damage was done however as Sara opened her eyes slightly and squinted at him. Sitting up a little, she yawned. "What took you so long?"
"Had to take Lindsey to school. Catherine had to pick up her mother from the airport," he replied, pulled her back down on the bed. "Go back to sleep."
Her eyes shut, but her mouth kept moving. "How is Lindsey?"
"Grown up," he said somewhat wistfully as he hand stroked her stomach. "I feel old. Seems like the last time I saw her, she was still playing with barbies."
Cracking open an eye, she grinned at him. "I never liked barbies."
Grissom smiled and pulled her closer, "She did say something interesting though."
"Oh?"
"Apparently, Catherine and Nick think I have a secret woman in my life." This captured Sara's attention and her eyes immediately popped open. She propped herself up on her elbow, waiting for him to continue. "They suspect it's you."
She puckered her lips. "Welll…" she drawled. "They aren't exactly wrong."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"What do you mean?" she laughed. "What can we do? If Catherine and Nick think there's something going on…let them prove it themselves," she said with an evil grin.
"Should we…throw them off?" Grissom inquired.
Sara shook her head slightly, still grinning uncontrollably. "As in plant faulty evidence?"
He grinned back, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"I think…" She leaned forward and gave him a nip on the neck. "If we just act normal…they won't catch on." The rest of the gang obviously hadn't noticed anything that proved she and Grissom were in a relationship, or someone would have definitely mentioned something. She laughed inwardly at the thought. Four trained investigators—and they couldn't see what was happening right under their noses.
"I think you underestimate how well I've trained them."
She rolled her eyes, "Please. You're the one who said you were disappointed in them, eariler. If anything…I bet Greg finds out first. Technically, I trained him."
"If we ever are busted, Catherine will be the one who figures it out," Grissom corrected.
"I still say it's either Greg or Nick."
"Trust me. When Catherine thinks she's on to something, she'll stop at nothing until she solves the mystery."
Sara yawned again and snuggled herself into his chest. "We'll just have to wait and see, then," she muttered, poking a finger into his soft mid-section.
"Have I been wrong before?" At the rise of her head, he corrected, "At least when it comes to our relationship?" Her eyebrow shot up and he chuckled, "I mean—after we got together." She strained her head upward, giving him a pointed look. Grissom laughed, "Okay, never mind."
"Stop talking," she demanded lightly. "I'm tired."
Her words vibrated across his chest, prompting him to close his eyes as well. After moments of silence, he stated, "It's going to be Catherine."
She scowled, biting his chest lightly. "You just have to get the last word in don't you?"
He grinned, cracking open an eye. "No. I just love to argue with you."
"Huh," she huffed, pulling her head back to glare at his face. "And what happens if it is Greg who figures it out first?"
"I'll take you out to dinner," he replied seriously.
She threw a fist into his padded stomach, "Too late for that."
He chuckled. "Ok, then…" Grissom responded in thought, "I'll buy you some earrings."
"I don't like earrings."
Grissom frowned. "Ok, what about a ring?" he said, his frown suddenly morphing into a smirk.
"Depends. What kind of ring?" Sara prodded.
"A promise ring," he replied after a moment's thought in a matter-of-fact tone.
Pushing herself up to be at eye-level with him, she whispered, "What kind of promise?"
"Do you really have to ask?"
She smiled and grasped his hand, bringing them up to her lips. Placing a soft kiss on his fingertips, she nodded. "Deal."
TBC...
Ok, so...too fluffy? Too OOC? Review and let me know; good or bad--it doesn't matter. :)