A/N Thanks for your patience and thanks to Michelle and Jennifer.
Completely exhausted, he walked into the house feeling elated and longing for her. It had been his intention to return home at precisely one minute past midnight on the day of Sara's birthday. Instead, there had been a triple murder, and the bodies were covered with ants that were typically only found in the Amazon. As he had suspected, it was merely a ploy to throw investigators off. The perp had only succeeded in revealing his identity - an exotic pet store owner who kept a supply of the ants to feed to several of his pets. He counted himself lucky that he hadn't told Sara when he planned to return.
Now he was standing next to his couch, watching the steady rise and fall of Sara's chest , and noticed the small platter of fruit and cheese on the table. The whole scene showed him the folly of his logic.
He chuckled lightly and lowered his head to give her a kiss along her hairline. "Can't put anything over on you, Gorgeous."
She stirred and then settled back down as he studied her for several long minutes. Should he carry her to bed? He was loath to disturb her sleep. Unable to resist, he kissed her again, this time on her full mouth, and then he slipped his arms under her warm, half limp body.
The pale blue chemise she was wearing felt cool and pleasant against his skin. It smelled of lavender and white roses.
As he moved from the living room, Sara squirmed against him. "Bugs?" she wanted to know.
"I'm sorry," he replied, settling her into the bed.
"S'okay. I made you a snack." She yawned and for a second he was delighted at the prospect that she would become fully awake and stay up with him for a little longer. Instead, she fell back against the pillow, her hair a tangle of spiderwebs, her breathing deep and precise.
"Good to be home, Gorgeous," he whispered.
Sara
He's in there talking to that damn roach. He says he's going to race him. Weird. The roach's name is Jesse, as in Owens, as in fast as lightning. That was my idea.
"You've been gone for three days, and the roach gets more attention than I do," I say, putting my head on his shoulder. He slips the glass back on the terrarium, and gives me a kiss. His mouth tastes of citrus and beer. God, I missed the taste of him.
"Drinking already? Being away from me has turned you into a lush," I tease. His entire body is facing me now, his strong warm hands on my hips, his eyes bright, sweet and sexy.
"Brass came by about noon, and we had a couple. Personally, I think he just wanted to make sure I was really at home. He's been grilling me non-stop for the last three days."
"What time is it?" My voice is still kind of gravely, and I probably have the worst morning breath ever.
"About two." He kisses me again and this time pulls me in closer. He's wearing jeans and a white t-shirt from some bug seminar; there's a picture of some sort of bug holding a smoking gun.
I blink my eyes and clear my throat. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Because you were exhausted. Honey, you work two jobs and go to school. You needed the sleep and you need this vacation." He pauses and regards me for several seconds. "This is the part where you say, I'm right."
I crinkle my nose and slip my arms around his neck. I do feel very rested and I guess I was pretty tired. And it would be good to get away and do nothing but sleep, eat and screw. I think I'm just beginning to understand what it means to truly rest; to have the world move off of your shoulders, even if only for a short time. Until I met Gil I never slept easy. My life was a mixed bag of false starts and frantic stops. I didn't know that before, but now I know what it is to sleep for the purpose of rest, to wake up and know that it's just going to be another ordinary day, and I don't have to lie about my age, or where I live, or who and what I am.
Jesse begins butting his head against the glass, but Gil gives it two harsh taps. "Cut it out," he says and the insect retreats
From out of nowhere, it suddenly dawns on me that I'm incredibly horny, so I ask, "What time are we leaving?"
"About 4." He glances down at his watch and adds, "And we should probably get packed."
"Already done," I announce proudly.
"Aren't you the efficient one." He rubs his half erect cock against me. "What every are we going to do for the next two hours."
With a raised eyebrow, I retort, "I have some ideas." Taking his hand, I lead him out of the room.
OOOOOOOOO
Walking around the boat deck, I finally found a spot that will give me a little sun, but won't fry me. I have a tall fruit juice with an umbrella in it. Gil says I can still drink at home and MAYBE in the hotel room. This living on the right side of the law can be really irritating.
He's off somewhere, but I can still hear him talking, and he's got that flirty tone in his voice right now, so I'm pretty sure he's found some adoring creatures to hang on his every word.
A guy, who actually looks a bit like Gil and has been at the back of the boat chain smoking most of the trip, plops down onto the empty chair at my right.
He is pulling another cigarette out of a pack that's obviously been crushed by the weight of something. "Hiya," he says, giving me the full advantage of his baby blues. His hair is half black, half white. There's something young and free about his baby face, even though there are cracks starting to form around his eyes.
"Hello," I say to the stranger.
"Billy," he offers.
"Sara," I return. There's some exaggerated laughter across the lounge and to the other side of the small boat, and I watch Gil come into view. I can hear him clearly now, and he's telling the story about the guy with the gun that held him hostage. He'll leave out that it was only for ten minutes, and that as soon as he figured out it was a water gun he decked the guy. He really needs to get a new story.
I flick my eyes back to Billy, who's busy trying to get a gold lighter to offer a flame. "That your fella?" he nods towards Gil.
I ignore him. "Do you really need another one of those?" I'm not too disturbed by cigarettes. I mean, I do work in a strip club, but this guy is like a chimney. Someone this cute shouldn't try to die so early.
He looks me up and down, but not like he's checking me out, or anything, just like he's appraising me. "Look-Sara?" I nod to let him know he was correct, and he continues, "I got a leggy brunette waiting for me on the other side who's gonna tell me I smoke too much. Now, if the smoke is bothering you, then that's something else alt-..."
I wave my hand in defeat. "No No. Smoke away."
He finally gives up on the lighter and tosses it to his right off the boat.
"Uh, isn't that illegal?"
"You gonna rat me out to the coppers ?" he rattles off in some silly old movie accent that I can't pinpoint. He nods toward Gil and the two blonds he's acquired. "That your fella?
"Yeah," I admit.
"He's a flirt," he says without judgment. One of the blonds is putting her very expensive left breast into Gil's chest. Gil smiles, and takes a step back, out of the line of fire.
I turn towards Billy, who's produced what looks to be a Scotch and soda from somewhere. Just how many vices does this man have? "Yeah, well, so are you."
The ice makes no sound and he swirls the drink for effect. "What…do you girls have some kind of coalition forming? Leggy, sarcastic brunettes of the world unite." He waves the scotch around in the air, "What's she got…a mic in your ear telling you what to say."
I turn my attention from the book I'm reading and give him one last look. "You must like it, because no one made you sit here."
"True," he acknowledges, taking a sip of his drink. He puts the glass down as he looks at Gil and the women for a time. "Your fella looks familiar." He rotates so he can read the title of my book "The Casebook of Forensic Detection: How Science Solved 100 of the World's Most Baffling Crimes." He grins. "That actually sounds kind of interesting."
I grunt something and bury my head in the book, because about six seconds ago I noticed that Gil caught site of this guy jabbering on to me.
"Uh Oh," Billy says out of the corner of his mouth as Gil leaves the blondes behind. "Your fella's coming-. Hey, he's the guy that does that forensic stuff on TV, huh? Forensic guy, forensic girl… That's neat. Want me to tell him that you totally blew me off and admonished me to mend my evil ways."
"I don't want you to tell him anything," I say in very low voice. "And I didn't blow you off. There was nothing to be-" I'm flustered now. Can't a girl just read a book and sip her fruit juice in peace?
"Well, don't say THAT to him. It'll only make things worse." This Billy person seems to think this is funny. It, however, is not funny. Not funny at all.
Gil takes the seat to my left, but not before offering a hand to the other man. "Gil," he says easily.
"Billy," the other man returns. "You girlfriend was just telling me I smoke too much. I told her that my girlfriend says the same thing. I was just trying to get all my smoking in before she meets me at the pier." He rolled his eyes and added, "I'm supposed to be cutting back."
God bless, Billy. Gil is not particularly jealous. Well, I guess he is a little. I mean, it's just one of those things. He can flirt, but I can't flirt because he says that I take everything way more seriously than he does. By his logic, if I'm flirting, then it's got to mean something. I guess he's right. Of course, I never flirted with anyone at the club but him and he never even told me the hostage story.
Gil
I've gotten Sara settled into our room and she insists that she wants a hamburger. In fact "she's dying for a burger." I honestly believe that she just thinks she wants a burger. She can barely eat chicken and fish anymore. But she's insisting and I know just the place.
She cocks her head and gives me this strange look and I'm getting the distinct impression that I've done something wrong, though it's not entirely clear to me exactly what it is. How much can one man mess up in a single week? "What..." I say, lightly patting my pocket to make sure I have my wallet.
"I was just going to order from room service."
"Yeah, but like I said, I know a great place." She lets out a small grunt that lets me know she's not pleased with the idea. "What's wrong?"
"Just how many women have you brought here?" Shit! She doesn't even try to disguise the hurt in her voice.
I sit down on the chair next to the bed and reach for her hand. "I haven't-" I catch the lie before it meets the air. "Sara..." I evade. "Sweetie..."
She won't be put off. "How many, Gil?"
I swallow hard and look her in the eye. "Just Alana. Once. Only once."
She looks around the room. "Here?"
I shake my head and edge closer to her on the bed, her hand still firmly in mine. "Absolutely not! Not the boat trip, not the hotel, just the island." She tosses her hair and the glossy curls land on her shoulders. "Okay?"
"No. It's not okay," she mimics the last word. "I thought this was special. Just for me."
God, I've really screwed this up. I never even considered the error in taking Sara to the same place I took Alana. I just needed something fast and doable. I could have easily flown her to the Bahamas or Jamaica.
"I wasn't thinking," I admit. "I just wanted to do something nice and-I just wanted to get away. I didn't have much time." I run a hand over my beard and take a deep breath. "I messed up. We can leave. We can leave right now-"
She takes my hand and waves me off. "Just go get my food. I need some... time alone."
"Of course." I give her a quick kiss on the lips and leave her to her own thoughts.
Observation Gil
The smells of Marty's Burger Emporium barely made a dent into the carnivorous subconscious of Gil Grissom. His mind was still back at the Elysian Fields Hotel. The trip to Catalina with Alana had been two years ago. It had been a delicately special time for them. A time when the thought he might actually be able to conquer all of his demons; be able to finally make the honest commitment that real life had been calling for.
Had he been subconsciously trying to recreate that time with Sara? It honestly had not entered his conscious thought when he'd picked the spot. Hopefully, the special things he planned, that were strictly for Sara, would be enough to repair the damage.
If he'd seen the wavy headed, black eyed brunette pass by the window, he'd have thought it was his imagination. Alana studied him for several seconds. Believing in providence and fate, she smiled to herself as she turned and slipped away before Grissom could see her.
A/N The book that Sara is reading is an actual book. I don't know if it's any good...