This is once again ADULT. No likey that kinda nonsense? Please just skip :) I deleted like four paragraphs (and a few choice terms) because I thought they were too risqué for this website and I really don't want this story deleted, so once again, head on over to Geekfiction if you want to read the non-amended version. Follow my HOMEPAGE link on my profile to easily find it. Thanks for reading and… enjoy. Can't wait to hear from you!!!

Chapter Eight: Warmth

Sara Sidle was still very much alone when she began drifting in and out of consciousness. There were no helicopters or red lights or blue lights or white lights for that matter, only her dull and vague awareness that she was somehow still a part of planet Earth, but apart from everything that mattered there.

She thought that she was dying.

She felt like a thin piece of wire that was being twisted back and forth, back and forth, friction desperately trying to snap her in half. The twisting was her doing, created by the want to live and the want to die and the want to not do either one, really.

Mortal pain kept her from wanting to live, emotional pain kept her from wanting to die.

Incessant twisting that didn't create heat, but instead choked sobs that began at the pit of her stomach and were forced to the tip of her tongue. Sobs with words that she couldn't understand. Sad, pathetic sobs that she always knew she was capable of. She wondered if she was dying with dignity or not.

She also wondered if she was falling asleep again.

She hoped she was because maybe she would wake up next to Grissom in his queen size bed, snug between deliciously smooth sheets, his warm chest pressed against her back and Bruno's solid and consistent weight at the foot of the bed. When she thought of security and protection, she thought of these things and how they offered her nothing but just that… safety.

I'll never wake up beside Grissom and Bruno again, she thought, and more sobs climbed her throat, a ruthless auditory reminder of her circumstance and the weakness she displayed in it.

Hours of immeasurable physical and emotional pain was all it took for Sara to forget what security and protection really felt like. The incessant influence of living dominated dying in that moment as she tried so desperately not to remember the last time she had woken up with Grissom's presence surrounding her.

Safety surrounding her.

Instead, she thought of the first time. And that last time really wasn't all that significant. Because maybe… there would be other times.

- - -

And miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground and I
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

"Set the Fire to the Third Bar" (Snow Patrol)

- - -

Eyes had yet to peal open and Sara didn't really know where she was. The first clue was the heavy, foreign warmth pressed against her bare stomach. The second clue was the smell of the sheets, a clean and snug smell that she knew fairly well.

Yes, she knew exactly where she was.

She had fallen asleep on his chest; she remembered that, after being loved in the most remarkable way that she had ever been loved in her entire life, she had fallen asleep to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear. She could still feel the persistency of his fingers lightly grazing her skin as she drifted peacefully.

She had to look at him. She opened her eyes and looked over to him. As she lay on her back, the sheets pulled up over her naked body, he was sleeping peacefully on his side facing her, his left arm tucked under his pillow and his right draped over her stomach.

An involuntary, but welcomed smile crept across her face and widened the longer she watched his features while he slumbered. She brought her hand to his hand that rested on her and caressed his fingers gently. His face twitched slightly and his eyebrows rose. She couldn't tell if he was dreaming or waking up, but it was certainly one or the other. She wanted badly to kiss any part of him. The giddiness and contentedness that she was feeling had built up in her body and she could feel it overflowing. A silent laugh escaped her as the result, as if she had indeed overflowed and her body couldn't handle this overload of absolute contentment.

Grissom's eyes eased open. They were already turned to one another so for a few seconds, they did nothing but stare at each other in silence.

Grissom's hand felt heavier and Sara shivered as his thumb began making small motions across her navel.

"Good morning," he said huskily, sleep still fully apparent and adding a childlike quality to his deep voice that she had never heard before.

She had never found him quite so adorable than she did in that moment: his sleep-laden voice, his slightly matted head of dark gray curls, the way his beard seemed to grow scruffier in the matter of a few hours, his narrow eyes that were still hesitant to let the sunlight in.

Her love for him exploded inside of her and leaked out through her eyes and through the smile that seemed a permanent fixture on face. To tell him how adorable and loveable he was, how much she loved him, was what she really wanted to do.

She didn't, however. She simply replied, "Hi."

His lips turned upward in a little smile that she had seen many times. But somehow it just looked and felt different. It felt revealing.

She wanted to kiss the breath out of him, morning breath or not, and she wanted him to do the same to her. It felt as if she had done this, woken up next to him, a million times. It felt familiar and safe and perfect and she just wanted to know what he was feeling at that moment. She hoped his feelings mirrored hers, but she didn't know and for some reason that didn't seem to take away from the feeling of security she had and couldn't for the life of her remember what it felt like not to have it.

She would settle for at least feeling what he was feeling.

As if he had been following her thoughts exactly, Grissom's hand slid across her stomach and down to her left hip. He gripped her and pulled on her, willing her to turn and face him. His body inched closer to hers and her body inched closer to his and they met right there in the middle of the bed, chest to chest underneath the thin sheet. He stared at her, smiling slightly and she let him, feeling as though he was soaking up her very essence, the very element that made her, with his brilliant blue eyes. With every minute, or perhaps second, or maybe millisecond, that passed by, his gaze darkened and she felt blissfully weaker.

Maybe he really was soaking her up, his eyes pulling the heat from hers and his chest pouring it back into her as he pressed against her. But she was doing the same to him.

His leg slipped between hers languidly in a simple but beautifully intimate motion and his head dipped down and closer to hers. He place a soft, chaste kiss on her lips and Sara's eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him back with more pressure and more vigor. His fingertips glided across her back, his nails lightly tickling and arousing her, the same way the short hairs of his beard did.

Sound seemed to be inexistent, but she felt herself moan into his mouth as their tongues mingled erotically, slowly. He was so slow in his actions, his touches, his kisses, that her body was pulsing with restrained energy. But she wanted nothing more than to let him take control of her and love her the way he wanted.

His hands tugged on her as he rolled over onto his back and he pulled her atop him, his lips never detaching from hers. His hands wandered her body, his fingertips danced across her flesh creating pleasurable shivers.

They were silent and, oh, so slow. Deliberate and, oh, so intense.

Sometime in the night he had pulled his boxers back on, leaving her the only naked one in the bed. But it didn't matter because she kissed her way down his chest, down his stomach. She kissed his navel and ran her tongue over the skin just above the band of his boxers and pulled them down, freeing his hardened member from the cotton.

She had but to breathe a hot, involuntary breath over him causing him to moaned out her name and pull her up to him. Her body rubbed against his as she slid up to meet his lips with hers, a secret smile playing around her lips. Their bodies pressed together as they kissed passionately, hands grabbing hair, limbs tangling, his arousal pressed against her stomach just as his heavy hand had done minutes before.

They were still pressed firmly together underneath the sheet, when Grissom rolled Sara over. He pulled the sheet down, his gaze never retracting from hers. Desire and love, probably love, hung thickly in the air between them for a moment until he collided with her again and it soaked into both of them, fueling their passion.

Slow, wet, warm kisses over her breasts, under her breasts, down her stomach, her navel. Every kiss made her feel more and more safe and she wondered why this specific moment made her want to be as vulnerable as possible and why she couldn't help but trust him with that.

His head was moving lower and lower and all she could think to do was plunge her fingers into his dark curls and grasp for dear life.

She felt like crying, but all that escaped her were small whimpers. She felt vulnerable and barer than she had ever felt as she wriggled between his hands and the mattress, desperate to feel more of him. She bit her lip down to deaden the harsh moans from destroying the gentle quiet of the room. Finally, she was sent plummeting over the edge, and Sara swore she saw colors, a brilliant array of colors, that neither she nor anyone had ever before seen.

It was scary and pleasing how well he seemed to know her body already, only the second time they had been intimate, and she couldn't stop feeling as if she had done it many, many times before.

The mattress shifted as she felt him climbing back up towards her. Her eyes wouldn't open at first, but his thumb grazed her eyelid in a simple and affectionate gesture, willing her to open her eyes just so she could meet his and see the emotion there.

"Okay?" he rasped out in a mere whisper as he hovered over her.

Sara nodded, because she didn't dare speak, and brought his head down to hers, kissing him gratefully for how incredible he made her feel. His hands cradled her head as he returned the kiss. He lowered himself even more onto her and he pressed into her, an unadorned reminder of how much he wanted her and how much she wanted him.

His eyes opened to meet her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a rare, impish smirk and he kissed the tip of her nose. She couldn't help but grin back at him as he planted another wet kiss on her ear, then another on her jaw line. The moment his lips touched hers, he entered her in one long and slow stroke. She moaned and bit down on his lip, but he continued kissing her amorously as he moved inside of her.

That was how it was, even as he dipped his head in the crook of her neck. He was unhurried and concentrated as if he wanted nothing more than to spend the entire day inside of her. His breath was hot on her neck, but he emitted no sounds, save the occasional moan muffled by her own skin. His hands were energetic where his hips were not. He couldn't commit to a place to keep them. Her hair, her breasts, her shoulders, her hips.

She kept her hands on his back, amazed by the muscles moving beneath his skin. She was burning and torn between wanting him to go faster and harder, and wanting him to take his time with her, slow and dreamy the way it was now.

Maybe he could spend the entire day inside of her. She wasn't so sure she would mind.

But her nails impulsively dug into the skin on his back, triggering him to quicken his pace. The moment his thrusts accelerated, he moaned her name into her ear and it was her undoing. She hooked her legs tighter around his. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut as the beautiful colors spilled around her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder if these colors were all part of making love to Gil Grissom. She hoped they were.

She felt his head lift from the crook of her neck and his movements stilled as her orgasm swept over her. Her eyes opened to find him staring down at her, a look of sheer adoration and amazement on his face. He began moving inside of her again and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down to her and kissing him as he let go.

She wondered if any fireworks in undiscovered colors were exploding behind his eyelids.

He was panting hot breaths into her ear and clutching her as if she was likely to slip out from under him. Moments passed like this before he moved off of her, collapsing beside her on the colder side of the bed and pulling the sheet and the comforter up over them.

She bit her lip and looked over at him with a grin. He was grinning too and he turned on his side to face her. She wondered why he wasn't touching her and she still felt vulnerable and bare.

But she found that she… liked it, actually.

His hand picked up hers that was resting between them underneath the blanket. He brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles tenderly causing her to smile at he gesture. She had always wondered just how capable of affection Gil Grissom really was, given the fact that he was rather emotionally unavailable. Little gestures like this proved that he was even more of an enigma that she had ever thought.

But he was her enigma.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" he asked, still grinning. "Come here."

She almost rolled her eyes playfully, but instead she just smiled and acquiesced. She scooted closer to him and he rolled onto his back, pulling her to him.

Moments passed and they were silent. His heartbeat thrummed against her ear and she found herself wanting to drift back to sleep.

His voice was soft and strangely fragile when he finally spoke, "I've never woken up next to someone before."

Sara felt and heard his heartbeat quicken the moment the words slipped past his lips and she could tell that he was nervous about admitting this. To help him to feel less exposed, thus more likely to open up, she didn't lift her head to look at him. Instead, she began tracing ambiguous patterns on his stomach. She was glad when he continued speaking, because she didn't really know what to say.

"I never felt comfortable enough to fall asleep so… I just didn't. I just laid there and pretended to sleep or," he cleared his throat nervously, "or I just left."

She pressed her lips together and felt at a loss for words. What could she really say to that? She didn't care in a sense that it was foreboding or intimidating. But she didn't feel as if laying there listening to his heart pound uneasily was a good idea either so she lifted her head to look at him. He looked unsure and maybe a little regretful for having said anything. She gave him a reassuring smile and hoped that he understood how grateful she was that he was telling her this at all.

"I wasn't always the one leaving though," he added in practically a whisper then his eyebrow went up along with the corner of his mouth in an ironic little grin. He twisted one of her long curls around his finger and pressed his lips together, looking as though he was about to laugh. A defense mechanism that she had yet to experience from him.

She shrugged and smiled back. After a moment, she said, "You, uh, you weren't pretending to sleep earlier… were you?" She was still smiling because she knew he had been asleep, she had felt it. But it was all she could think to say to bring the conversation back to the present, where it mattered. So that he knew that the present was all that mattered.

His face went serious and he twisted the curl around his finger again. He pursed his lips and shook his head from side to side ever so slightly. "I was asleep."

"I thought so."

He smiled and brought her lips down to his. He whispered, "A very," he kissed her slowly, "peaceful," he kissed her again, "sleep." His lips slid over hers ardently as his arms encompassed her in a warm, protecting embrace.

- - -

For the first time, she had the impulse to pray to a deity she never really believed existed and she wondered why, if she never believed, she should feel compelled to believe now. She figured that maybe she did believe after all, after all it couldn't hurt, and that there was something or someone out there that could just fix all of this and she would wake up next to Grissom, next to love, her love.

So she prayed like she had prayed when she was a naïve little girl.

And then she saw the lights.

To Be Continued…