A/N: Sorry this took so long. It's been a tough couple of weeks. I'm back at it though and hope to have it finished soon.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. That's why I work for a living.
Chapter 10
It had been several months since the party at the new house. Wedding plans were well under way and even Grissom seemed a little excited, more at the prospect that this would soon be over than that it was actually going to happen. Neither of them wanted to get married in one of the chapels along the strip. Their love felt much more permanent that something you should declare at a drive thru. After much debate, on Sara's part, she picked one of the small parks at Lake Mead. The flowers were taken care of, as was the Justice of the Peace and the reservations for the restaurant. The day Sara asked Brass to give her away they both cried a little and then laughed to cover their embarrassment. Grissom had made his mother's travel arrangements and they were both looking forward to seeing her again. Everything was going fine, or so it seemed.
Grissom had been called out on a case mid-way through the shift and was still out when Sara left to go home. When he let himself in through the garage door three hours later he found her sitting on the couch hastily wiping tears from her face. "Sara? Is everything okay?" Grissom asked the smile fading from his face.
Sara stood quickly and plastered a smile on her face. "Yeah, everything's fine." She placed a quick kiss on his lips and said, "Are you hungry? I was waiting for you."
Grissom studied her eyes and said, "I could stand to eat something. Why are you crying?"
"I'm okay, really. I'll make some eggs. Okay?" Sara walked into the kitchen with Grissom following.
Grissom sat at the bar watching Sara cook. His mind was running back to the week before they moved and the conversation about giving up her independence. Was she having second thoughts? His stomach was in a knot and he could feel the beginnings of a migraine. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. He jumped when Sara slid a plate in front of him. The smile he gave her was weak. "Thanks," he said.
Sara gave him a puzzled glance then mentally shrugged. They sat in silence, pushing food around their plates, neither of them eating. After a few minutes Grissom looked up and said, "Are you leaving me?"
"What?" Sara's voice was almost a squeak. Her fork clattered against her plate and she said, "What are you talking about?"
"Are you having second thoughts? I know it was hard for you to give up your apartment and move in here." Grissom's eyes bored into hers. "I just need to make sure you aren't going to leave."
"Grissom," Sara said, her voice exasperated, "I'm not leaving. I'm happy here."
"Then why are you crying? It's not like I come home everyday to find you looking forlorn with tears running down your face."
Sara sat quietly for a moment. Grissom could see the battle being raged behind her eyes. With a deep sigh, Sara said, "I have been thinking about my mother."
Grissom's relief was evident. "What about your mother?"
"It's just that there is a lot of unfinished business there. I haven't seen her in years. Once I was placed with the Clark's in Tamales Bay it was too far and they were too busy. Not that they wouldn't have taken me if I asked, I just never asked. Then I was in Boston, San Francisco and here. I just never found the time. I never took the time," she said in a soft voice with tears swimming in her eyes.
"Do you want to see her now?" Grissom asked reaching out to brush away the tears running down her cheeks.
"I don't know. It's been so long. What would I say to her? I understand better now what happened but I still don't feel that she did the right thing. It's one thing to write a letter. You can lie to someone when you don't have to see their eyes," Sara said with a slight shrug.
"Why do you have to lie? Tell her what you just told me. Regardless of right or wrong, her actions helped make you who you are. I'm sure she would be glad to see you." Grissom stood and gathered Sara into his arms. "I'll take you if you want me to."
"You would do that for me?" Sara asked in a soft voice. She seemed amazed that he would even consider going to a prison to see a woman he had never met.
"I would do anything for you. Anything." Grissom ran his hand over her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her head.
"Let me think about it, okay?" Sara said. Turning her head she placed a soft kiss underneath his jaw. "Thank you. Let's go to bed."
They cleaned up the kitchen and went into the bedroom. Sara climbed into bed and waited on Grissom to get done in the shower. He came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed beside her. Turning on his side to face her, he said, "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
"Not in at least twelve hours," she replied with a soft smile. "I think it's about time to hear it again."
While holding her gaze, letting his heart speak to hers, Grissom said, "I think Elizabeth Barrett Browning said it best,
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death"
Sara looked at him with her soft chocolate eyes and said, "Make love to me. I need to feel you."
Without hesitation, Grissom pulled her against his body. His kiss was strong and sure and immediately ignited a fire in them both. He kissed her thoroughly. Slow, deep, soul kisses that seemed to go on forever, tongues stroking, teeth nipping. He held her as if he wanted to absorb her into his body. His hands were gentle, moving in long, lazy strokes over her body. Their legs were tangled together, feet stroking over claves, thighs moving against thighs. Their breath mingled until it seemed that where one ended the other began. Wrapping Sara's legs around his waist, he entered her in one smooth motion. They lay on their sides, foreheads touching, soaking up the feel of one another. Grissom moved slowly, not thrusting, barely rocking his hips. Joined together, they relished the feel of skin on skin. They whispered and kissed and touched. After a while, Grissom began to thrust a little harder. Holding Sara's gaze with his own, he said, "Look at me. I want to see your eyes." He watched as she climaxed and then joined her.
Lying in the afterglow, Sara spoke. "I think that I would like for you to take me to see my mother." Her voice was quiet and tears trembled in her eyes. "When can we go?"
"Let me arrange some things at work and we'll work it out," Grissom told her. After a while, he said, "I won't let anything bad happen, Sara. Trust me."
