A/N: A date to remember! Not only was it Grissom's return; it was also Valentine's Day! Enjoy this chapter.

Gil Grissom's Romance

Chapter 29

Grissom wanted to stay where he was—warm, under shared covers, the delicate fragrance of Sara and the heady scent of their sex play mingled in an aroma that made his belly tremble with desire and ache at the same time. When he moved, Sara continued sleeping, even making a faint murmur as he placed his arm around her. He shifted again—and she continued to sleep, soundly.

Suddenly, a thought slammed into his brain so quickly that he abruptly sat up—the date. He had completely forgotten; he had completely ignored all the signs, disregarded the red 'stuff' floating in his peripheral vision. Had gotten so wrapped up in getting back home, in the chaos of Keppler, in Sara waiting for him—he had completely forgotten.

He looked at Sara. She had not moved.

Fumbling for his watch, he checked the time and realized they had slept nearly five hours. With his movement, he grimaced as he realized he was tender and sore from some of their earlier activity. Glancing at Sara again, he knew she had serious beard burn on some very tender places but he dared not move the covers to check.

Valentine's Day—the day for lovers and he had not even thought to buy a card. And the necklace was a coming home gift, not a Valentine's gift; she had not mentioned it but now he was certain the never-used wrapping paper had been red. Swinging his legs off the bed, he gingerly stood, giving his legs a gently shake, and gave another quick look at Sara who was still sleeping.

He might be able to arrange something, he thought. Quickly, he found a note pad and scribbled a message and then headed to the bathroom. If he could get a quick shower and out of the house to pick up Hank before Sara woke, he could—might be able to pull—a surprise for her.

He should have known it would not happen; Sara had never been a deep sleeper. The water has barely begun to flow over his shoulders when he felt the whisper breeze caused by opening the door. A few seconds later, she stepped around the glass enclosure wearing nothing but a smile.

She said, "You'd leave a girl alone in bed after all we did?"

Stepping into his arms as the hot water showered down on them, he was reminded of why the bathroom had been a major selling point in the purchase of this condo. At some point, while his lips were nibbling the gentle curve of her right breast and his hands had a firm hold on her backside, he heard her soft words and felt her warm hands. She was kissing the top of his head; her hands were stroking his back.

It made him catch his breath to be touched by her, to feel again that gathering of heat in the belly and the long, liquid pull of heat that traveled along his spine.

The late sun created a white wash of light through the high windows. In the gentle spray of the shower, he could hear every breath she took, feel every touch as her fingers skimmed over his body. She moved into him, him arching, lips touching with quick little bites, gentle scrapes of her nails that aroused him beyond belief.

Their fingers linked and then broke apart to find other intimate places. His mouth closed over her breast; she crooned his name and then moaned when his teeth gently tugged at her. He was burning, aching, as waves of pleasure shoved his body into hers.

Her eyes were open, burning, sending off a hum of excitement, as she wrapped her leg around his thigh and rested her foot on the tiled shower bench. He knew she was on that edge of excitement and release when his hand found her hot, wet.

She arched to him, closed around him; as the water cascaded down his back, he surrendered to the sudden urgency of passion. Their pace quickened as need pulsed and plunged, pounded as control was lost.

In the moments following almost simultaneous roaring organisms, the two managed to untangle arms and legs enough for Grissom to place his butt on the bench and arrange Sara on his thighs.

Water continued to flow across her back as her head rested on his shoulder. "This feels so good," she whispered.

He did not want to move; he wanted this—this feeling—to last forever.

Sara moved first, placing her lips on his, running fingers through his hair, while managing to tuck her feet against his thighs. Smiling, she said, "We must part at some point. I'll soap you up first."

Staying on the bench as she pulled away, he felt like he had been hit with—he chuckled—a full dose of Sara Sidle at her best. Those long arms and legs, delicate fingers, tender lips, the rise of her breasts; he had seen the red rash made by his beard in some very sensitive areas.

"I've missed you, dear."

Smiling, she lathered his shoulders, his chest, his arms, and then wiggled her finger for him to stand and turn. His backside got the same treatment. But before he rinsed, he grabbed her in both arms, held her tightly while she giggled and gasped as he amused her with soap and bubbles and kisses until they were thoroughly clean and completely satisfied with themselves.

When the sun grew pale in the high windows, they dried each other, made the bed with fresh linens, and dressed, moving as slow as possible and still make progress.

Sara said, "I need to pick up Hank. He'll think he's been abandoned."

"I meant to pick him up earlier," Grissom said as his face twisted into a grin. "But I was distracted—about Hank and." He winced, "the date."

"You forgot, didn't you," Sara said, coming to sit beside him on the bed. Her fingers touched the sliver disk at her neck.

"I did."

"No, you didn't. I love my necklace."

Chuckling, he pulled her into an embrace. "I do love you—every day."

With that, he fell back on the recently made bed, pulling her with him. He said, "I'd love to continue this—just us—for at least another day—maybe a week."

"So would I—but Hank would be declared an orphan by then."

Kissing her reminded him that his body really did need a rest. "I need to get back to the lab. My desk was overflowing."

Sighing before she rolled to her side, propping her head in her hand, Sara said, "We'll be back soon. Pick up where we left off." Her finger gently laced into his beard. "We may have to do more than condition this stuff!"

In the next hour, they picked up their dog, who celebrated the return of his man playmate by weaving through their legs, barking, and jumping three times before remembering his training. After the reunion, Grissom walked the dog while Sara prepared food she had planned for earlier in the day and they actually managed to keep their clothes on and eat a delayed meal.

"Go on—I know you want to get to all the stuff on your desk," Sara encouraged. "I'll be in later and I'll help if I can."

Reluctantly, Grissom agreed.

Neither knew what waited—a box, another miniature, a doll on a sofa, a small newspaper bearing the date of February 17—and, unable to know the future, their lives would forever change.

A/N: Another chapter soon! We appreciate hearing from you. Thank you!