Author's Notes: This was written for the Summer Sizzler Fic-A-Thon at the LJ community, Geekfiction. Just a little Fourth of July treat. Hope you enjoy!
Alfresco
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Honey, how long do you have to cook these things?"
He looked up from the package of tofu dogs when Sara stuck her head out of the sliding glass door. "How long does it say to cook them?" she asked, sassily.
"It says, and I quote, 'cook thoroughly.' End quote."
A smile twitched on Sara's lips. "Just don't burn them and they should be fine." With that, she disappeared back into the air conditioning.
Grissom set the package down with a sigh. He reached for his beer, only to find it warm and flat from the relentless afternoon sun.
The house he and Sara had chosen to buy sat on a cliff overlooking Lake Mead, one of a dozen recently built for middle class couples looking to escape the swelter and congestion of the city. Part of what had attracted them to the subdivision was that their nearest neighbor was two hundred yards away. Privacy was one thing they both valued.
Grissom sat back against the wooden railing. Their first argument concerning the new house had been over what to do with the very balcony he now stood on. They'd both agreed that there was no reason to pay for such a luxury if they never had a reason to step foot onto it. She had wanted to add a hot tub. He'd been itching to build an elaborate, multi-leveled ant farm.
They'd compromised, and bought a hibachi grill.
Sara reappeared with fresh, cold beers. They clinked the necks of the bottles together in an unspoken toast. After a long sip, she settled back into a lounge chair. A breeze came up off the lake just then; she closed her eyes, relishing in it.
He watched her, the first hints of arousal creeping up on him.
"This is nice," she declared. "Not hot tub nice, but not bad, either."
Grissom agreed. "The ants would have loved it out here."
Sara waved her hand, dismissively. "Tend to your grill."
Acquiescing with a smile, he got up and poked at the coals with a pair of tongs. "Did you know that what we call a hibachi is actually more akin to the Japanese cooking device called shichirin? But it was thought that American consumers would have difficulty pronouncing that, so the name was changed when it was brought over from Japan."
"And did you know that hot tub hydrotherapy has been proven to help relieve joint problems and chronic back pain, as well as lowering stress levels?" She opened her eyes. He was giving her a look. Sara winked at him. "So, will we be eating anytime soon?"
"As a watched pot never boils, an observed hibachi never heats."
"That was deep, baby."
Grissom gave the coals another poke. "I think they're ready enough." He ripped into the package and laid four meatless hot dogs onto the grill.
"Where are yours?" she asked, looking around for the actual meat.
"I thought maybe I'd give these things a try."
This surprised her. "After making such a fuss about how the Fourth of July isn't the same without dead animal flesh?"
"That was before I started living with a vegetarian." Looking over his shoulder at her, he smiled. "I can try new things, Sara."
She put her beer down, stood, and came up behind him. Sliding her arms around his comfortable middle, she rested her cheek on his shoulder. They stood there for a long time, enjoying the occasional wind that swept over them.
"Sometimes I get so mad at myself," Grissom said, breaking the silence. "I could have had all of this years ago."
Sara squeezed him tighter. After another moment passed, she started feeling for his hand, and once she found it, she took the tongs from him. He felt her warm breath on the fine curls at the back of his neck. "Do you really want to try new things?" she whispered.
Intrigued, and now more than just a little stimulated, Grissom turned around to face her. She wore a wicked smile; her hands slid down to his fly.
"What…out here?" Nervously, he wet his lips and glanced to either side, as if reconfirming their privacy.
Sara nodded as she worked the button free and lowered the zipper. With that accomplished, she backed up against the railing. She crooked a finger at him, a lure he couldn't have resisted even if he wanted to.
There was a blur of activity that somehow resulted with her sitting on the railing, him standing between her open thighs, and most of their clothes strewn over the deck. He found a weird and wonderful liberation in being half-naked with an equally half-naked, younger woman in the waning light of day. By the time they united, their bodies were already glossy with perspiration.
The sun was cool compared to the heat in which he found himself immersed.
He tore his mouth away from hers and buried his face in her neck. "God, what good thing did I do to deserve this?"
She replied by wrapping her legs around his lower back and pulling him even further into her. The dying sunlight tangled in her hair, turning it sinfully red.
Their rhythm was awkward, but it worked. Grissom kept one arm around her, his other hand planted firmly on the railing. It was a long way down to the ground.
Sara's fingernails dug into his upper shoulders and he was freshly grateful that she kept them short for latex gloves. Her lips were at his ear, whispering encouragements that would have made Catherine blush, until he forgot what his own name was. He held onto her and let go, only vaguely aware of the culmination of her own pleasure.
When Grissom could form thoughts again, he knew he was going to pay a price for this in the morning, when his aching back would remind him that he wasn't a young man anymore.
But right then, he was still surrounded by Sara. And that was worth a potential spinal cord injury. Especially when she lifted her head and gave him a long, languid kiss.
"I love you," she whispered.
The same words were on the tip of his tongue. But just then, they both caught a whiff of something burning.
"The tofu dogs," they realized at the same time. Sara started giggling first. The absurdity of the situation caught up with him a moment later. The sun slipped further into the horizon and they still clung to each other, their joined laughter carrying across the lake.
In deference to his male ego, Sara eventually allowed him another chance at the grill. The stars were beginning to appear in the clear night sky by the time they ate. Grissom didn't care what Sara said, tofu dogs did not taste like hot dogs. But they were edible for the most part.
After dinner, they lay back together in one of the lounge chairs. Sara rested against him, her back to his chest. The air had turned decidedly cool; he hugged his arms around her slender frame for warmth.
Grissom kissed her temple. "I love you, too."
If she'd been waiting for the sentiment to be returned, the only indication she gave was by entwining their fingers and nestling further into his embrace.
The fireworks began in a blaze of blinding whites, dazzling reds, brilliant blues. It was their first holiday in their new house, and it was perfect.
Even without dead animal flesh.
Fin