Chapter 2: Supplicant Sinners
PhDelicious
Disclaimer: I still got nothing.

A/N: This chapter contains spoilers for 6x15, "Pirates of the Third Reich" and anything else with Lady Heather. Bring on the angst. Also a big thanks to Joan who's continued nagging andcommentaryhelped me keep my Muse on track.

Grissom couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier to have the next two days off. Normally he didn't take his days off back to back so that his CSIs could, but this time he had scheduled them so they were consecutive and overlapping with Sara's. That way they'd have plenty of time to finish moving her stuff into his townhouse and start organizing the place to their liking. Sara had also dropped some hints about painting a wall or two. Her 'weekend' had started that morning and Grissom expected her to be busily making herself at home in his apartment. So he was surprised and a little anxious when his locked, darkened home turned out to be empty. Anxiety turned into panic when he realized that the boxes he'd been tripping over during the few trips home he'd been able to squeeze into the crazy week were also missing.

After they'd collected the initial evidence on the Bellagio quadruple that had interrupted their first attempt at moving, Grissom had put Catherine in charge so he and Sara could return to her apartment. They had loaded the last two boxes into his car and then driven over to the townhouse. They had quickly piled the boxes in the hallway and living room before returning to help finish up the case.

Sara spent the next few shifts working a string of break-ins with Warrick; they had been wrapping things up when the body was found in the desert, starved, branded and mutilated. Grissom had barely seen Sara since Brass had dropped his bomb about the victim's identity, and when he had seen her it had only been because she was updating him on the status of the rest of the cases coming in. He'd been looking forward to spending time with her, hoping to avoid the issue of Heather, but the silence surrounding him told him that he wasn't going to get his wish.

Sighing, Grissom headed towards his bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. He would take a quick shower, rinse off the feeling of dirt and grime, the scent of fear, desperation, and despair, before going to find Sara. If she was having second thoughts, he wasn't going to make it worse by appearing before her covered in the blood of a murdering monster and the tears of a distraught mother.

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Sara sat alone in her nearly empty apartment staring at blank walls and stroking her fingers restlessly over a pale blue silk scarf. She hadn't been able to stay in Grissom's townhouse alone. Not when she couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her mind from wondering if he would be coming home alone or if he would, but regret it later. Even a call to Mel hadn't been able to stop the worry. This, their relationship, was still too new for her to be sure, too untested and uncertain for her to anticipate his reactions. So she had retreated back to her sanctuary, her room, the place where she'd spent years questioning both him and herself. But that place was empty with the exception of the still made bed on which she was currently sitting and a few other large pieces of furniture. Her familiar things were no longer there to comfort her and so she twisted her scarf in and around her hands, glad that she'd left packing the bed for last just in case.

Images skittered through her brain, fantasy blending into reality: staring up at Grissom with her hands bound together in front of her, Grissom's hands wrapped tightly around her wrists pressing them back to hover above a bloody sheet, silk ties binding her to her bed, then suddenly she was in control and the same ties were covering Grissom's eyes as she rose above him. But the shadow hovering over her grew bolder and soon it was Lady Heather straddling Grissom as he lay helplessly unaware on Sara's bed. She could only watch, hopeless, as the dominatrix rumored to share a part of Grissom's soul scrapped her nails down his chest. She could tell the moment he sensed the difference, see him arch towards Heather in her mind's eye. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Sara gave in to her insecurities and buried her face in her pillow.

Grissom found her there asleep some time later, tear tracks still distinguishable when he stroked his hands over her cheeks to brush her hair back from her face. For a moment he debated just crawling in beside her, but he knew that that wouldn't solve anything. Instead he continued to brush his fingers over her cheek and he dropped a light kiss on her forehead as he whispered in her ear.

"Sara, honey, wake up please."

Still half trapped in dreams Sara rolled away from Grissom onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open and her fingers tightened on the scarf she still clutched.

"Grissom?" Her voice was raspy with sleep and tears. "You're really here?"

One hand uncurled and reached up to brush his cheek and smooth silk caught briefly on his beard before dropping to her stomach.

"Yes I'm really here. Where else would I…" Understanding dawned on him and he looked away, flushing faintly. "Is that why all your boxes were gone? We really do need to talk, don't we?"

He turned from her and scrubbed his hands over his face. He really was too tired, both physically and emotionally, to do this properly now. He sighed and started to rise, but a light touch on his arm stopped him.

"Later," Sara murmured. "We both need to sleep first."

She wiggled slightly away from him and patted the bed beside her. Unsure, Grissom turned to look at her. Sleep still clouded her eyes, but the invitation there was clear and he gave in to his need to be comforted in turn. Kicking off his shoes, Grissom stood briefly and turned to slide into Sara's bed. At first he kept to his side, waiting for Sara to move up against him, but then he remembered her surprise at seeing him in her apartment. This would be up to him. He leaned toward her and gently placed his hand on her hip.

"Can I hold you?"

He couldn't tell whether it was merely his request or the emotion riding his voice which had her rolling onto her side and backing up to tuck herself firmly along his body. The hand which had been resting on her hip slipped forward and he wiggled his fingers into the gap between her shirt and her pants until he could feel the unmarred smoothness of her skin. He lifted his head briefly to kiss her cheek and then he settled his head on to the pillow beside her. They were both fully asleep minutes later.

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An overwhelming heat and lack of oxygen woke Sara from restless sleep. At some point she had rolled from her side to her stomach; Grissom had followed her and his body pinning her to her mattress was both the source of the heat and reason for her inability to breathe. She shifted, uncomfortable now that she was awake, and tried to slide out from under his solid weight. She had managed to shift enough to breathe more easily when she felt Grissom stir above her. The pressure on her increased briefly before it was removed completely as he rolled off her. Sara stopped moving away from Grissom and rolled back in the opposite direction to face him and found him also lying on his side, staring at her.

"Sorry about that." Grissom broke the silence as he gestured between them. "Didn't mean to squash you."

She shrugged and broke eye contact. "You were asleep. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't breath."

When long minutes later there was still no response from Grissom, Sara finally looked up at him and saw what she'd been dreading for a month now. His eyes were open, but he was no longer seeing her. The distance between them was back, with a vengeance.

"Griss?" His empty eyes tracked to her, but there was no connection. "I meant that literally, not figuratively."

"Which is why you weren't home." His voice was distant and pained and his eyes closed.

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to be there when you got back," she whispered.

Grissom rolled away to sit upright, with his back to her.

"I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I'd wanted to come home to anyone else." He pressed his hands to his forehead and rose as he spoke. "I should go. Keep your key; you can use it to get the rest of your stuff back."

"Grissom, Stop! Get back here. You are NOT allowed to walk out of here like that." Her voice was low and deadly as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rolled to her feet as he paused by her door. Dropping the scarf that she had managed to hold onto as she slept; Sara strode towards Grissom keeping the commanding tone in her voice. "Did I tell you to go? I believe I asked you to stay."

She laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her. Slender fingers brushed across his shoulders and up his neck, trailing teasingly through his beard to frame his face.

"Stop running from me Griss."

"You left first." Anger was beginning to creep in under the despair. "My townhouse was empty; it's never felt empty before."

"Griss," Sara sighed. "I moved the boxes into your bug room."

She dropped her hands from his face and backed two steps away from him. She spoke again, the sad, quiet words echoing in her bedroom.

"If we can't trust each other, trust ourselves…this is never going to work. And neither of us has been doing a very good job of it." She turned from him and ran her fingers along the edge of her bed as she stared blindly across the room. "I'm sorry I didn't believe enough to wait at the townhouse. I just…Brass kept asking me how I was doing, Catherine kept giving me these looks, and Greg was just…quiet. I kept seeing their worried faces as I tried to unpack."

She choked on a small sob and Grissom suddenly felt himself moving forward. His hands dropped down on her shoulders and he felt the fine trembling which hadn't been noticeable before. He stroked soothingly over her shoulders and down her arms. When her fingers linked through his and she tugged his arms around her, he stepped forward to press himself along her back.

"I'm sorry, I panicked when I realized that you weren't home and the boxes had been moved," he whispered as he bent to lay a kiss on her bare neck. "It's been a rough few days. It's not easy to watch someone you respect break and not be able to do anything about it. It was hard with Heather, but it was harder back when it was you and I was helpless. Thinking about coming home to you kept me going."

Sara's head fell back onto Grissom's shoulder and her eyes closed on a sigh. Tilting her head to place her lips just below his beard, she spoke.

"Griss," she couldn't help but smile as she felt his involuntary response to the nickname. "What was… is it about Heather?"

Not exactly the question she'd intended to ask, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to know if he'd slept with the dominatrix. She could feel his pulse jump and his breath hitch under her lips and his fingers tighten around hers as her question registered. He calmed as he thought and before he spoke he slipped one of his hands free to stroke up her opposite arm, brushing his forearm over her breasts. His thumb pressed circles into her shoulder.

"She was…the epitome of poise and control at a time when I felt like I was loosing mine. She has an uncanny ability to understand people and anticipate their needs and reactions. But she does it without engaging her emotions. She fascinated me physically, intellectually, but she never demanded, simply by being, that I care for her, share myself with her…so, for a while, it was easier, simpler, to be around her.

Sara turned in his embrace so that she could look up at him. His eyes were unfocused, still remembering, analyzing. When she touched his cheek lightly, he turned down to her and she watched him return to their present. He would have spoken again, still half lost in thought, but she placed her fingers lightly on his lips. She didn't speak until she was sure she had his complete attention.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I understand; I guess. Well, at least part of it. I still don't get why you were running from your emotions in the first place, but I can see how that would appeal to you."

Sara placed a light kiss on Grissom's cheek before sitting on her bed, looking up at him, unsure of where to go from there, of how to move on. She felt around blindly behind her until she found her scarf, needing something to do to help reduce the nervous tension brought on by their conversation. Her mind followed what he had said, understood why he, of all people, would react that way, but her heart still ached, afraid that he would run again. She dragged the scarf forward to rest on her lap, running it back and forth between her hands. His eyes followed the movement like a snake follows the sway of a charmer's pipe. A subtle change in the quality of his silence caused Sara to look up from her hands and she felt her body come alive at the intensity in his gaze. Her hands trembled and her skin tingled as she watched him watch her caress the silken expanse of cloth.

"Do you want to tie me down Griss?" Her voice, low and smoky, seemed to slide over every inch of his body, rubbing his nerves raw, while the nervous half-laugh at the end pulled at his heart. The images her question conjured in his mind tightened every muscle in his body until he ached and his breath released on a moan that was her name.

"Sara."

His voice stopped the play of the cloth as fingers dug into thighs. Those same treacherous fingers stroked unconsciously upwards and inwards until she was almost touching herself before large hands clamped around her wrists stopping her. Grissom stepped forward between her legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself. He raised her hands above her head as he leaned over and pressed her back into the mattress.

"You don't have to do this." He growled into her neck, his attempt at self-control evident. "My affinity for Heather doesn't relate to my predilections."

The anger, pain, and uncertainty of moments ago flowed out of Sara at the hint of annoyance in his possessive response, leaving a sense of humor and triumph in its place. She smiled as she levered herself against the mattress to get her legs up and wrapped around his waist.

"I believe I asked you to tape me up long before she was an issue."

CSICSICSICSI

She knew it was childish, but she wanted to run through the lab shouting in celebration. She'd just solved her first case as an official Las Vegas criminalist. Of course Grissom and Nick had had more than just a small a hand in it, but still, it felt good. They'd driven back to the lab together after the confrontation at the Garris' house to finish up the paperwork and now Sara wanted to celebrate, not just solving the case but her move to Vegas as well.

After finishing up the Holly Gibbs case and making sure that Grissom had truly meant his invitation to stay, Sara had taken a week off to get her things in order. Her short trip back to San Francisco to pack up the rest of her stuff had been painful, which she'd been expecting, given Mel's reaction to the news, but still hoping to avoid. Instead of being able to share her excitement about the move and her joy at beginning a relationship with Grissom with her roommate and best friend, she'd found a curt note and an empty apartment.

"Have fun in Vegas. Sorry I had to work."

So she'd boxed her things by herself and left them for the movers to pack into a truck headed for Vegas before going into the San Francisco lab for the last time.

"Gary, thank you, for everything. I've learned a lot here." She was going to miss the soft-spoken, strong-willed man who'd started out as a boss and become a mentor.

"But now it's time for you to move on. Never figured we'd get to keep you for too long. You're too good not to be working for the best. Mel's out in the field at the moment, but she should be back soon if you're looking to say 'good bye' before you go."

Sara smiled ruefully.

"She's not exactly talking to me at the moment."

"Ah. Well, have a safe trip and don't forget to visit."

"Thanks again Gary."

Sara had given him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, before walking out into a faint sea breeze, for the last time. With a sigh, she'd eased herself into her car and headed off to uncharted territory.

Now here she was, in Vegas, having solved the first case she'd been assigned and nobody was around to help celebrate. Sara wandered the lab looking for the rest of the team to invite them out. Warrick and Catherine had disappeared, not that either of them had particularly warmed to her, but they were part of the short list of people she knew in this town. Nick was in the DNA lab with the tech, she thought his name might have been Greg. As she turned the corner and reached for the glass door to the lab, a tingle down her spine alerted her to Grissom's presence. Hand still on the door; she half turned to face him, unsure as to the limits of their new relationship.

"Hey Griss."

He glanced quickly over her shoulder at the two men talking animatedly behind her before speaking.

"Sara, I was hoping to catch you before you left. I'd like to take you out to officially welcome you to Las Vegas."

"Oh, well I was going to ask the team if they wanted to…"

"Actually, I was hoping that maybe it could be…just… the two of us."

This time Sara was the one to glance around quickly. She dropped a hand lightly on his shoulder and squeezed quickly before removing her hand. Just being close to him was overwhelming her. She'd been fighting the urge to drag him into a supply closet since she'd seen the spark in his eyes as he'd bound her hands together with duct tape.

"I'd like that." She smiled and stepped away from the DNA lab door. "Shall we?"

Grissom gestured her forward with one hand, resting the other lightly on the small of her back as she stepped in front of him. The tingle that had announced his arrival turned into full blown shivers as the fingers on her back refused to stay still.

"Are you cold?" Grissom teased as they entered the locker room to gather their things.

Sara resisted the impulse to stick her tongue out at him and settled for rolling her eyes instead. She paused a moment in front of her locker in an attempt to remember the combination before opening it up and pulling out her purse and a light jacket.

"So where are we going? Do I need to change?"

Grissom looked Sara over slowly, taking in her maroon tank and snug fitting jeans.

"Nope, you're fine the way you are."

He slammed shut his locker and turned towards the exit. When he noticed that Sara wasn't with him he stopped and began to pivot back to her.

"Coming?"

"Yeah, I just…"

Sara's reply was cut short as the locker room door flew open and smacked into Grissom's left shoulder, Nick close behind.

"Oh crap! Man, Grissom, I'm sorry!"

Grissom grimaced and held his arm to his chest while he rubbed his injured shoulder with his other hand.

"I'm fine Nick."

Sara's undignified snort interrupted him and he glared at her falsely innocent expression.

"I was just on my way home anyways."

"Grissom, I'm not sure you should drive if it hurts that much. I can give you a lift," Nick offered.

Grissom looked to Sara for help, begging her to help him turn Nick down without offending the younger man or starting rumors.

She sighed then spoke. "I got it Nick. I was actually going to ask Griss if I could stop by his place anyways. I need to pick up some stuff he was letting me store at his place 'til I got settled."

"Oh, well as long as you're okay with it." He shrugged. "I'll, uh, see you guys tomorrow then. It was nice working with you today Sara." He grinned wide enough for it to reach his eyes.

"Thanks Nick. I think I'm going to like it here." She flirted back, grinning, helpless to completely resist the Texan's charms.

Grissom cleared his throat.

"I'd like to get going, if you two don't mind."

The younger CSIs rolled their eyes and Nick stepped aside to let Sara and Grissom exit the locker room.

"So where are we going?" Sara asked as she followed Grissom out of the lab into the late morning sun.

"I guess you'll just have to follow me to find out," he teased.

"Griss are you sure you're…"

"I'm fine Sara. A little sore, probably bruised, but I didn't dislocate it. I can drive."

Sara looked him over closely, noting the faint lines of pain around his eyes and the firm set of his lips. She decided that any arguments would fall on deaf ears at this point.

"Lead on then."

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Sara wasn't sure where she had expected Grissom to be taking her, but she certainly hadn't expected him to turn away from the glitzy heart of Las Vegas and head towards the quiet more residential neighborhoods. Never the less, she'd followed him onto progressively smaller and less crowded streets until they could have been driving through any suburb in America. They'd pulled into a small condominium complex and parked near a more isolated end unit. It was obvious to her as Grissom strode confidently up the front walk, keys out, where they were, but she waited silently for him to state the obvious.

He opened the door and ushered her inside, before speaking. "Is this all right?"

Sara glanced around her, taking in the living room, small dinning area and kitchen, the walls still their original apartment beige dotted with colorful displays of butterflies and the occasional framed painting. Dragging her attention back to Grissom, who was subtly shifting his weight from on foot to the other, she smiled to put him at ease.

"I thought you were going to take me out somewhere." She laughed as his lips turned down in the beginnings of a frown. "It's perfect Griss, but I'm not really hungry right now."

She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the lips brushing her hand over his cheek in the process. When she pulled back from the kiss to breathe Grissom captured the hand that drew back from his face and stepped around her heading towards the stairs, tugging her along behind.

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Grissom ran his hand through his hair, settling it, as he walked into the lab. He was early, but he'd found since being named the interim shift supervisor that he got the most paperwork done before shift started. He wasn't sure how well that strategy was going to work today given how tired he was. He hadn't intended for Sara to stay the night when he'd brought her back to his home for dinner, but once she'd been there he'd been loathe to see her go. So she'd stayed, spent the night in his bed, her scent working its way into his pillows, her smile worming its way into his heart. It had felt awkward at first, letting Sara into his space, but then she'd smiled at him and kissed him and he'd been glad that an extra hour in the crock pot couldn't hurt his mother's pasta sauce.

Grissom sighed at the rapidly multiplying stack of paperwork on the desk. Rearranging the piles he sat down, picked up his favorite pen and began signing his name over and over. He had just settled into a rhythm when Conrad Ecklie stalked into the room.

"Gil! I believe you were told to get rid of Brown. Why was he here during my shift this morning?"

Grissom looked up at the dayshift supervisor over the top of his glasses. "I assume he was finishing up his case from last night; it was a hit and run."

"Just be careful. Between the way you're babying Brown and the fact that you brought your girlfriend in to investigate him in the first place, people are going to start complaining that your CSIs get special treatment. The lab needs someone to whip the nightshift into shape, but it doesn't need them."

Ecklie turned and walked from the office before Grissom was able to formulate a response to his allegations. The silence left in Ecklie's wake echoed accusingly in Grissom's ears, blotting out the memory of Sara's low, pleased laughter. He sat in the stillness absorbing the accusations and threats laced into such a short statement. He was still sitting in the same position, pen poised motionless over paper, when Catherine's brash knock pulled him back.

"It works better when the pen actually touches the paper."

Grissom sighed and placed the pen down on the desk.

"Was there something you needed Catherine?"

"An assignment."

He glanced up at the clock above her head and realized that he'd lost almost an hour to futile contemplation. He rose and gathered a small stack of slips from among the other papers.

"Gil, have you given any thought to making this supervisor thing a permanent change?"

"Someone needs to do it." He wasn't ready to have this conversation with anyone yet, so he walked around Catherine and out of the office, straight into Sara.

The collision tripped Sara up and she crashed into Grissom, forcing him back against the doorframe. His hands closed tightly on her waist and her hair brushed across his cheek as he tried to catch her. The desire to keep her there rushed through him, but Ecklie's visit was too fresh in his mind, so he pushed her away, abruptly jerking his hands from her.

Sara's expression turned from cheerful to puzzled as she settled herself back onto her own two feet. As she tried to make sense of Grissom's guarded expression she fought down the impulse to pin him back to the doorway and pull answers from him, but Catherine pushed her way between them as she exited the office behind Grissom.

"You really should watch where you're going Gil." Catherine walked off down the hall towards the break room.

Sara started to speak, but Grissom interrupted her.

"Not here," he commanded as he placed his hands on her hips, turned her around and pushed her after Catherine. He felt the involuntary tensing of her muscles at his dominant tone and his eyes darkened as he remembered the feel of that tension under him as he pinned her body between his and a soft mattress. He had a feeling that it was an image that would haunt him for a long time.

CSICSICSI

For years he had held onto the memory of Sara pinned beneath him, giving up her control to him, her strength bending to his will, and now it was happening again. Her lithe legs were wrapped around his waist; his hands pinning hers to the bed. This moment separated from memory there because tonight there was still anger and uncertainty in the air from their aborted discussion. He knew he should be talking to Sara, trying to convey the multitude of thoughts crowding his mind, but the temptation of her lips was too great, and he'd never been able to communicate emotions well with the spoken word.

So instead of telling her that he loved her he was trailing kisses down her neck, over her collar bone, and down along the scoop of her top. Leaving one hand on her wrists, Grissom slid his other hand down the planes of her body to slip under her top and push the cloth up, exposing more of her silken skin. He lifted his lips from her chest and arched his back so that he could reach the newly exposed expanse of her stomach, but that position quickly became uncomfortable for him. He stood up and contemplated the sight before him.

"Sit up."

Sara pulled her arms down from above her head and pushed herself up, unwrapping her legs from around Grissom and scooting back on the bed. Her hands came down to help him as he pulled her shirt the rest of the way over her head. He lifted her scarf from the bed as she positioned herself. When her hands began to slip behind her back to unhook her bra he spoke.

"Sara…"

She stopped and looked up at him questioningly.

"I…"

But once again his words deserted him. Luckily, she seemed to understand at least part of what he was asking and after shuffling quickly out of her bra, she held her hands out to him, palms down. Grissom forced himself not to stare at her breasts. He wound the strip of cloth in and out around her wrists tight enough to restrict movement, but not circulation. When he finished he looked up from her hands.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Griss," she sighed, half in exasperation, as she lay back down on the bed, positioning her hands above her head.

He stripped off his own shirt and then climbed onto the bed beside her. Bending over her he kissed her solidly on the mouth, teeth nipping and tongues tangling. As he came up for air he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you."

Sara's breath rushed out on a moan as Grissom flattened his tongue and stroked it over the hardened bud of her nipple. Her body tingled and trembled as he continued to worship her breasts with his mouth. She itched to feel his skin under her fingertips, to scrape her nails his spine, but she held back, playing by the rules she'd agreed to when she held her hands out to him. Long calloused fingers stroked down her side and Sara lifted her hips to press into the touch. His hand brushed over the front of her jeans and slipped between her thighs to press intimately against her. His mouth followed the path of his fingers, down over her stomach to the edge of her pants.

"Griss."

Sara melted as he stroked up to pop the button on her jeans and ease the zipper down. Grissom hooked his fingers under the cloth of her underwear and slid them down her long, toned legs along with her pants. She brought her hands forward to rest in her lap as she sat up enough to watch him as he shucked off his khakis and boxers. He was fully aroused and she wanted to touch him, ached to feel the solid heft of him in her hands once again. But her hands remained bound and motionless as he knelt on the bed between her legs. He placed a light kiss at the juncture of her thighs, stroking quickly with his tongue, before sliding up her body. Grissom lifted her hands and draped them around his neck so that she had something to hold onto, to anchor herself with, as he pressed into her.

"Oh, Griss."

Her nails dug into his shoulder blades as he filled her and he paused, lodged fully inside her, until her hips began to rock against him. Grissom matched his pace to hers; supporting himself on one hand and using the other tease her with random touches. Sara moved faster as the sensations built, striving towards the pleasure she knew awaited her in his arms. As they both neared the edge, Grissom slipped his hand down to where they were joined and teased her to climax.

"Gil!" He followed shortly behind her as she called out his name in pleasure. His head dropped to her shoulder in his release and his lips brushed her neck as her fingers unclenched to smooth over his back. In that quiet, perfect moment of serenity Grissom finally found his voice.

"I love you Sara."

TBC…