A/N: Dang, that took longer to write than I anticipated so I'm sorry about that. Guess life got in the way. All done! Thanks to everyone who adamantly requested I write the sequel. Your love is appreciated. Can't wait to hear from you, of course. Also, I apologize for this unbetaed mess. I feel like every other sentence is a sloppy run-on. What-the-ever.
This story is MATURE. If you don't like that sort of thing, turn back now... I couldn't maintain the integrity of the story and chop out all of the good stuff, though I did tone down the language. Another version is of course, posted at Geekfiction.
"Listen…" Grissom started quietly and cleared the huskiness from his voice. "I have a question I want to ask, but it could upset you."
He took a bite out of his club sandwich and blue, nervous eyes darted to the side to watch her as she considered this. She wiped her mouth slowly with her napkin and looked up from her own sandwich. Her head turned to him and their eyes locked.
"What is it?" she asked calmly and a short breeze blew strands of small curls against her cheeks. She licked her lips, an innocent action that stirred something within him. Her eyes were soft and inviting and a smile, practically non-existent, was teasing her lips. She showed curiosity, not hesitance, which gave him a little confidence to proceed.
Taking a deep, but obscure breath, his face softened and the serenity of her features seemed to move off of her in slow, sweet waves and settle around him. The laughter of small children playing in the green grass around them amused his ears and he smiled, suddenly feeling very collected and tranquil.
"How do you feel about me?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate.
The silent moment that followed was a lengthy one and although he wished he didn't have to, he broke eye contact and looked down at the half-eaten club sandwich sitting on the wrapping paper in his lap. She mumbled some sort of "ummm" and cleared her throat awkwardly. He felt clumsy and immediately searched for a way to back-peddle and minimize embarrassment.
But he didn't back-peddle.
This was about changing, after all, he surmised, so he looked back up to gather his thoughts. His eyes settled on the two children chasing around a Golden Retriever with a neon green Frisbee. He watched them roll around the grass with their companion and heard their laughter. Their innocence gave him an odd sort of strength to continue, reminding him that that sort of happiness, that elation, could still be within his reach and it was his job to grab at it, hold onto it, and keep it from tumbling into the abyss.
"Why are you asking?" she asked him suddenly, looking at him with a sharp turn of her head. It caused him to look at her and their eyes locked again. Though her tone was still calm and quiet, her temperament had changed from serenity to uneasiness.
His eyebrows raised and though the question was expected, his answer didn't seem fitting. He said anyway, "Because I don't know how you feel about me and asking you is the only way I know how to find out. I'm not good at signals and—"
"No, I mean, why do you wanna know?"
He considered this question, finding it wholly understandable. Balling up his trash and tossing it in a brown paper bag, he leaned over and rested his forearms on his knees. Clasping his hands together, he let out a long sigh.
"I wish I had a really good answer for that," he said and turned his head to offer her a small but genuine smile.
To his surprise, she smiled back and said, "You probably do, you just can't seem to tell me."
"I'm no good at this," he said with resignation, his gaze boring into the well-traveled dirt beneath his shoes. He kicked at it and grunted in frustration, annoyed at himself for being so idiotic in matters of the heart. He wanted to change. So desperately it was making him sick.
"I know," she said quietly. "But I'm not going to answer that question unless I know it will make a difference what I say."
He leaned back against the bench and gripped the edge of the smooth, used wood. "What do you mean?" he asked, finding her eyes with his.
"I mean that—" she stopped herself and looked down with a shy smile. The breeze was blowing her hair again and his fingers itched to tuck the rogue strands behind her ears. He longed to touch her somehow. "If you're asking just so you know, then that's not very fair to me."
He had a response, deep down somewhere, but it wouldn't surface so he just looked at her calmly, a small, crooked grin lighting his face. He wondered if she truly understood and was just giving him a hard time. He deserved it, he realized, as he watched her duck her head down bashfully.
She shook her head and looked back up at him. "You're different," she stated simply. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "What happened in New York?"
She had said he was different, he thought, and that must have been a good thing. He was trying to be different. Different was good. They had both been dancing awkwardly around each other for years and years, had tossed and turned over moments laden with sexual tension and innuendo, had made a habit of ignoring and compartmentalizing and he found it rather amusing that, although the culmination of all of these things over so many years was this very moment for him, she had simply assumed his one week trip to New York had brought them there on a warm park bench during their lunch break, him broaching subjects he would typically avoid. Truth be told, his trip and consequential run-in with an ex-girlfriend , though enlightening, had played a very small role in this. But it was the final role and he had to be honest about that.
He made sure his eyes smiled right along with his lips when he looked at her and answered, "I missed you."
It took a moment, but Sara smiled and blushed. She pressed her lips together and gave a slow nod. Grissom turned his body so his arm was draped across the back of the bench. He pulled his knee up into the space between them, feeling immediately closer to her.
"I really missed you. You know when you called me…" he smiled wider and looked down for a moment, shaking his head, unbelieving that he was saying these things. When he looked back up at her he head was cocked to the side, a curious and imploring expression on her face. "Sara, when you called me it was the highlight of my week."
He could see her swallow as she ducked her head and studied the dusty ground. She was speechless. He had made Sara speechless and he rejoiced in this small victory, finding solace in the softness of her expression.
A surge of confidence overtook him and he reached his finger out to tuck the hair behind her left ear. Sara bit her lip and looked back up at him. He would have been nervous if not for the small grin gracing her lips. Suddenly, her brow knitted together and her grin widened. His fingers lingered on the soft crest of her ear and Grissom was surprised at how such a small touch could rouse such desire in him. Then again, it was Sara, he thought, and his affection for her had been bottled up for a good seven years or so. His thumb made slow motions on her ear while the back of his fingers grazed her smooth brown hair. When she licked her lips again, desire washed through him and settled in his groin. There wasn't a piece of him that didn't want her lips on his, but before he could even think of moving, she broke the tension-laden silence.
"And to think, I always thought you were shy," she said and laughed. "You're not so shy."
"No," he responded in a low, intimate voice. "I was unsure. But Sara, I'm not anymore."
Eyes stilled on each other for another long moment until Grissom's cell phone trilled from his pocket. He closed his eyes and flipped the phone open, answering briskly. He watched Sara begin to gather up their trash, compacting it all in the brown paper bag and Grissom relayed to Catherine that they were indeed on their way back to the lab, they had just stopped for a much-needed lunch break.
When he flipped the phone shut, Sara was already on her feet. He raised from the park bench, surprised at how much he missed the warmth of the sun-beaten wood, and stood in front of her, closer than he normally would have.
"Guess we should get goin'" Sara said with a crooked smile but slightly sad eyes.
And they trekked back to the Denali without speaking of the conversation. Grissom thought, perhaps, he should give her some space like she had done him. She needed time to work it all out, maybe. Her hesitance was alarming, however, and he couldn't help his nervousness. He couldn't help the horrible thoughts that danced around in his mind, reminding him that maybe she was over him and his chances were all used up. But, he recalled, she hadn't completely acted that way in the park. She hadn't been angry or indignant. She had acted confused, but if anything she had been intrigued. So, he tried to remain positive.
But when they didn't see much of each other for the rest of the night, he became paranoid that he was being avoided. After all, he had avoided her many times. Shift went by slowly and when the time came to leave, he still couldn't find her. He asked Nick and Greg if they knew where she was and they confirmed that she had went home. Grabbed her stuff from her locker and silently slipped out of the doors. Uncharacteristically, they added, and asked if everything was alright with her.
Well, he didn't know.
And he felt dreadfully vulnerable.
But that was a change and so somehow, it felt kind of good and terrible at the same time. Deciding that he couldn't possibly minimize embarrassment or hurt if she rejected him at this point anyway, he settled into his car and headed to her apartment with absolutely no game plan. He hadn't even had one two days ago when he had landed back in Vegas, strangely excited to see Sara and to get his feelings at least somewhat off of his chest. The right moment had only seemed to present itself when they had been out chasing a lead and decided to take a lunch break at one of Sara's favorite delis. And when he had remembered the park nearby, she had seemed more than willing to sit on a park bench and enjoy her sandwich with him. When he had turned to look at her, her hair swaying slightly in the breeze and her mouth turned upward at a horrible joke he had made, his heart had thumped loudly against his chest and he could no longer stay silent. And he was still glad he had said something, even if it was looking like it was possible things wouldn't go his way.
That didn't mean that when he found himself staring blankly at the faded maroon color of her front door, his stomach wasn't in knots. Because it was. But that didn't stop him from eventually knocking. The door slowly opened, revealing Sara, bare feet with jeans and a black T-shirt. Grissom gave a small, sheepish smile and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
She smiled at him, practically beamed with her mouth still closed, but didn't look even the slightest bit surprised by his presence.
"Grissom," she greeted him and after a short moment asked, "How are you?"
His eyes darted around a bit and he opened his mouth to answer an instinctive 'fine' but decided against it and went for honesty instead. "I'm a little nervous."
Her eyes widened as she leaned on the door and she grinned, replying, "Well, that's honest."
"Yeah," he said while letting out a breath.
"Did you wanna come in?" she asked sweetly.
He looked at her for a moment, suddenly realizing that he may be rushing her, something she never did to him. "I don't wanna crowd you, Sara. I'm sure you need some time. I probably shouldn't have just stopped by like this—"
"It's okay. You want an answer to your question," she said, nodding her head in understanding and he nodded back, slowly walking over the threshold.
As soon as he stepped inside, he became blissfully aware of how close his body was to hers. While he would have ignored the desire that tended to pulse throughout his body when she was close, he couldn't anymore. He stopped and turned to her and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He realized how pensive he looked and was sure that she could sense his desire for her, but she didn't back away or ask him what he was doing. She didn't say a thing, but her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he took that as an invitation. Seemingly by their own accord, his hands left the warm pockets of his jackets and he placed them on either side of her face, his thumbs grazing her ears and his fingers sliding through her hair. His lips met hers in an agonizingly slow and sweet kiss. They were still for a moment until Sara quietly whimpered a bit, which caused him to deepen the kiss ardently. Her hand left the doorknob and slid up his chest, the first time she had ever really touched him, and suddenly he was consumed by the need to press his body to hers. Slowly, though, Sara pulled away from him and his eyes opened to find her looking at him in bewilderment. They stood there in a trance for a long moment, which Grissom found rather disquieting.
Her eyes drifted away towards the hallway and Grissom looked over, realizing the door was still wide open. A young, disheveled man was standing outside his door with a piece of pizza in his hand and a maddening grin plastered on his face. He was nodding his head slowly, his eyebrows raising suggestively.
"Hey there, Sara," he said, taking a bite out of his pizza and closing his front door behind him.
"Hey Ted," she answered warily, her eyes darting to the floor and Grissom noticed the slight quiver in her voice.
The young man looked Grissom in the eyes and gave him a thumbs up. Grissom narrowed his eyes in annoyance and shot him his best irritated glance as the guy shuffled off down the hallway, mumbling something. He shook his head and turned to Sara. She was still staring in the hallway, but turned to him after a moment letting out a short breath.
"Ted… my neighbor. He's a little weird," she offered, clearing trying to postpone the awkwardness that was soon to follow.
"Aren't we all?" he said wistfully with a grin. She smiled but looked at him seriously. He had no idea what to say or do, so he looked down with a bashful smile and gave his head a little shake, wishing they could just get past this awkwardness. "Look, I don't—"
He was cut off by Sara's lips landing hungrily on his. He grunted at the unexpected, but welcomed contact. Something had snapped in her because she was kissing him now, hard kisses, and her hands were sliding to the back of his head, pulling him in closer with the desperation that he felt but had held back previously.
"S-Sara…" he tried to speak between kisses but she wasn't paying him any attention. He pulled away a bit, surprising her. "Sara," he mumbled against her lips.
"What?" she whispered.
"Let's close the door before Ted comes back for the encore," he said taking her face in his hands tenderly and smiling at her. She was stunning, aroused and slightly disheveled with pink cheeks and lips.
Sara laughed and tugged on his arm, pulling him further inside and kicking the door shut. She turned the deadbolt and spun around to face him. He wondered what he looked like to her. Did he look as aroused as he was? Did he look desperate and wanton like he felt? None of that mattered much when her lips crashed with his again and she began pushing him backwards until the backs of his knees collided with the couch. She gave him a light shove and he fell onto the cushions with a short bounce. He couldn't help but grin at her surprising aggressiveness.
Towering over him, she smiled and shrugged a shoulder. His eyes traveled shamelessly over her long body and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He could still taste her on his mouth and it made him ache. The need to touch her more surpassed anything and everything and after giving her an appreciative smile, he tugged on her hand until she straddled his lap and began kissing him again. When she settled down on his body and made full contact with his lap, he groaned and realized how hard he was. He was throbbing against her as she grinded into him, moaning into the deliciously suggestive kiss they were sharing. Her tongue was massaging his and every now and then, she would nip his bottom lip, causing him to squeeze her hips and grunt his approval.
This was what is was like to kiss Sara Sidle, he thought, and there would be no more pretending.
He didn't know why, but when she broke apart to start a trail of wet kisses down his neck, he asked, "You want to do this? You sure?" His voice was husky and burdened with lust.
Sara just chuckled against his hot skin and answered, "I think it's pretty clear I wanna do this, Grissom."
He chuckled too and leaned his head back, enjoying the feel of her lips on his sensitive neck. She stilled and pulled back, looking at him seriously as he cracked his eyes open.
"You want to do this, right?" she asked, her uneasiness showing again.
Every nerve ending in his body was on full alert. He had an almost painful erection and it was all he could do not to thrust into her. It was finally happening for them and stopping was the furthest thing from his mind. So he smiled and squeezed her hips, bucking into her just a little, hoping she understood, and settled for borrowed words. "I think it's pretty clear I wanna do this, Sara."
Sara laughed throatily and gave a coy smile, her eyes shooting downward between them where their clothed bodies met. "Mmm, yeah, I just want to make sure all body parts are in agreement, here."
His eyebrows came together in confusion and her hand trailed up his arm and neck, settling gently on his slightly sweaty forehead. She tapped his skin lightly and whispered, "Like, here… and…" her hand trailed down over his face, neck and chest even slower until it settled over his heart. She fanned her fingers and looked him in the eyes, finishing her thought, "here."
He looked down at her hand and felt a lump forming in his throat, but he felt calm and at ease having gained a certain comfort in the tender contact. He covered her hand with his and looked her in the eyes, hoping his voice would work.
"Oh yeah. Definitely," he said, almost a whisper, and entwined the fingers of his other hand in her hair, pulling her forward in a slow, gentle kiss.
Eventually, Sara pulled back and stood up. Grissom groaned when her body left his, already painfully aware of how much he needed her. They made it to her bedroom, where the midmorning light was cascading over every surface. It was a warm light that seemed to match his blissful mood and the way it buttered Sara's skin, made her look even more delicious, made him thankful that he would soon see her completely naked in it.
She pulled on his hand and turned in his arms with a light laugh as they neared the bed. He tried to kiss her again, but she shoved him back until he bounced on the bed. Once again, he chuckled delightfully at her ability to dominate him. He couldn't keep his hands off of her, though, as she bent in front of him to remove his shoes and socks. But when she began unbuckling his belt and sliding the zipper down his slacks, he had to grab the edge of the mattress to keep himself in control of his movements. Her knuckles grazed his arousal through his boxers as she slipped his pants off and when she looked back up at him, she gave a demure smile. All he could do is shake his head in amazement and bite his lip.
When she stood back up, Grissom could take no more. He reached out and touched her stomach over her shirt, trailing his fingers down until he met the edge of her shirt. When his fingers slipped underneath the fabric and tickled her smooth flesh, she lifted a hand and rested it on his head, sliding her fingers lightly and reverently through his short curls. Eyes glanced upward at her and he saw that she was watching him intently, fully capable of letting him take his time with her body. But after a moment, she pulled the t-shirt off and Grissom licked his lips in anticipation, his fingers skimming her skin lightly and climbing to the edge of her simple black bra. When his thumbs grazed her breasts through the fabric and he gave her warm stomach a wet kiss, Sara gasped sharply. His mouth went dry as he unbuttoned her pants and lowered them down a little bit then watched as she wiggled free from the denim.
"Come here," he whispered and once again she smiled and straddled him while he scooted up closer to the headboard of her already disheveled bed.
He laid there for an unknown amount of time while she loomed over him, their bodies intimately touching through thin layers of clothing. He just looked at her in awe and she let him, which surprised him. Unable to control his hands anymore after a long moment of watching her watch him, he let his palms slide up the bare skin of her back and he pulled her down so that he could kiss her. Her body pressed into his as he groped her back, her hips, and her ass. Lips molded together and tongues danced around. Before he knew it, Sara was completely naked and writhing atop him. When she pulled herself back up, he had an incredible view of her bare body. Her breasts fit his hands perfectly as he held them. Sara moaned with delicious femininity as his hands made soft motions on her breasts. And when his hand made its way down the skin of her stomach and to the juncture between her thighs, he gasped with astonishment at how wet she was for him. He could feel himself hardening painfully against the fabric of his boxers and while he wanted to take his time with her before, now he wanted nothing in the world but to be buried deep inside her and finally feel what it was like to have Sara Sidle wrapped around him.
Grissom's thumb grazed her wet, sensitive nub and she whimpered as she fell forward, her hands resting on his chest. He applied more pressure, noticing how she bucked her hips and moaned, and realized how important it was for him to see her pleased. It was agonizing, the feel of her grinding against him and he wondered briefly if he would even be able to control himself but like a gift, he felt and heard her moaning out his name as she succumbed to absolute bliss and thrashed against his hand.
Though he didn't mean to say it out loud, he whispered his amazement in some form of "Oh my God" and she smiled lazily, her eyes still closed. The image of her climaxing—the way she bit her lip and whimpered, the way her hands clutched at his chest, they way her eyelids relaxed, the way she squirmed—was too much for him to handle. Luckily, Sara wasted no more time.
Mumbling something about birth control pills, she finally peeled off his boxers and released him. He gasped and squeezed her hips in appreciation as she wrapped her hand completely around him, gripping him firmly. In a surprisingly fluid motion, he had her under him and she laughed quietly with delight. He couldn't suppress his grin as he propped himself up and loomed over her, poised at her entrance. He kissed her, long and slow and relished in the feeling of her body pressed so close to his. It was a warmth he had forgotten existed and we he pulled back and looked fully into her eyes, he realized, it was actually a different kind of warmth. A warmth he had never really known.
Sara rested her hand on his face and gave him a sweet smile, trailing her fingers through his beard. She was completely ready, he knew, and with one last kiss he pushed inside of her, reveling in the instant pleasure that coursed through his body. She fit perfectly around him and he wanted to tell her, wanted her to know how she made him feel.
He rested his head in beside hers, whispering in her ear, "You feel incredible, Sara."
Sara groaned in response and began meeting his thrusts as he quickened his pace and deepened his strokes. He whispered his amazement in her ear one more time and she came undone beneath him, whimpering out her pleasure once again. He propped himself up to watch her, but the feel of her nails digging into his back spurred him on and after a few sloppy and deep thrusts and an equally sloppy and wet kiss, he unraveled.
He could feel himself slowing and slipping out of her, but he couldn't move. It had been so long since he felt anything close to what he was feeling in that moment and the idea that he had really and truly just made love occurred to him. It didn't scare him like he thought it would and he thought that was a nice change and maybe he really could do this.
Giving her a short and gentle kiss, he rolled to the side and exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow. The room was silent and Grissom wondered briefly if she felt awkward. He didn't, which was new for him and he felt proud of himself, proud of that change in him. She pulled the blanket over them and rested her head on his chest. His fingers instinctively began tracing soothing patterns on her back while his other hand covered hers that lay on his stomach. It was a gentle, tranquil moment loaded with reflection.
Grissom wanted to see her, really look at her so he rolled over on his side making her do the same and looked her in the eyes, grinning like a fool. When she smiled back and kissed him, he felt like a new man and wondered if she felt the same as him.
"You seemed hesitant before," he began, tenderly playing with her hair. His voice was quiet and soft.
She was still smiling a little, looking at his chest when she answered, "I was."
He waited a moment, taking in her almost timid demeanor and asked, "Are you still?"
"Maybe a just a little."
He nodded his understanding and let the quietness settle again.
"You said some really sweet things in the park." she said with a quick glance to his face.
"I meant them."
"But you've said sweet things before and normally you just back away and pretend you didn't say anything at all." She gave a little shrug and grinned at him.
"I was a little nervous when you rushed out the door this morning. I didn't want to pretend it didn't happen," Grissom replied candidly, propping his head in his hand and peering down at her reverently. "Not this time."
She gave a sheepish sort of grin and ran her hand over his beard. "I guess I needed you to come to me just so I knew things really had changed."
The word gave him pause and he thought of Jane.
"You really haven't changed at all have you?"
"I'm forty-nine years old. It's unlikely I'm going to."
He really could do this, he thought, and a new sort of confidence washed over him as he pulled Sara in for a hug. He kissed her neck, a loud comical smack, and pulled back to look at her. She was smiling happily at him, pleased with him. He grabbed her hand and kissed the fingers.
"You know," he began with an amused grin, "You never actually answered my question."
She looked at him with confusion for a second and then his meaning occurred to her. She grinned back then looked at him with mock incredulity. "Where have you been the past hour?"
He chuckled, understanding her completely and hoping she wouldn't turn his question around on him. He didn't think he could pour out how he felt about her in words. And although there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he loved her, it wouldn't be an easy thing for him to communicate. Some things would take more time to change.
But Sara seemed fine with that and with a content sigh, she began drifting off to sleep. He watched her and smiled to himself.
Some things already had.
Finito