A/N – Okay, if you get offended by sexual situations, you really don't want to read this. More to follow. To those who read Fear and Redemption… I decided to go ahead and take the scene to its true completion in this story. To Moo Marie, my best critic, no I haven't written any letters to Penthouse lately. LOL

PLEASE REVIEW

Disclaimer – Since I don't think we'll ever get anything like this out of CBS, I don't think they're going to sue me over it. I hope. Please don't sue me. I'm just borrowing the characters.

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"Sara," he repeated, feeling slightly disoriented, with every raw nerve jerking harshly. Clenching his jaw, he tried to focus, but the nightmare image of Natalie and Amelia laughing and mocking just wouldn't leave, and the pure fury he'd felt returned with a vengeance.

When she reached out and touched his face, something akin to flame scorched him and made him flinch. It also centered him, and had him pulling her in the door. Slamming the door, he pinned her. Every ounce of control fled, when his lips crushed hers and he felt her hands run through his hair.

Sliding his hands into her leather jacket, his yanked the offending garment partially down, trapping her arms. As she gasped for air, his lips found her neck and sucked, until she squirmed from the harsh onslaught. When she began to whimper, he moved his hands from her waist, and snaked them up her shirt, kneading the flesh he found.

Without thought, he dropped his hand to her trousers, and fumbled with the buttons and she was left with her pants bunched around her ankles. Looking down, those plain cotton briefs she always wore hugged her hips perfectly. "God, I love your underwear," he said, slowly sliding his hand between her legs, where he could feel the moisture gathering through the panties.

"Tell me you want me," he demanded, watching her eyes glaze as he rubbed the core of her through the cotton. Caught in the haze of pure lust, Sara focused on haunted blue eyes, and whimpered, "Gil… I want you. Now."

"I want you," he said, licking up her neck to her ear, where he sucked and fondled the lobe with his tongue. "Beg for me," he commanded, his breath tickling her, as his finger slid around the panties and into her, making her gasp.

"Now. Please, Gil…" she begged, and found herself half dragged to the dining table. Fighting off her shoes, the pants fell away, but her arms remained confined by the jacket. Lifting her onto the table, he laid her back and pulled off her panties, leaving her legs hanging over the table. He watched her hair spread out, and when he set himself between her thighs, she moaned in anticipation. His hands pushed her t-shirt up to expose her bra. She arched her back and felt his mouth come down over one lace-clad nipple.

Sucking through the material, and biting until she moved restlessly against him, he spread the robe apart, and pulled the briefs down, releasing his shaft to the cool air. When he pulled back, her eyes opened, and he watched the nearly black orbs glaze as he spread her legs farther.

He gave her no warning before roughly pulling her hips to him, and sinking deep in one hard stroke. Wrapping her legs around him, she felt the table shake as he plunged into her again. Over and over, he whispered her name, thrusting harder each time, until slight tendrils of delicious pain intermingled with intense pleasure, and she felt her walls start to clench around him. As the table shook, and the planes of his face hardened, he watched her eyes and said, "Go over for me, Sara. Go over." With two more hard thrusts, he felt those walls clench as she screamed his name. He continued to thrust, until he felt himself falling off the same cliff, releasing himself into her, caught up in the knowledge he was coating her walls with part of himself. As he continued to thrust, he felt her relax around him, and sank himself into her to stay. Breathing heavy, he laid himself partially over her, terrified to leave her for the moment. Connected in the most elemental way, Grissom felt his muscles begin to soften for the first time in a very long time. The headache that always seemed so close to tipping him into agony gave way, and he relaxed and released.

Under him, Sara's mind reeled. What the hell is happening to him, she thought, worry creeping in as she felt him slacken. Turning her head, she saw him staring at her, his eyes urgently sinking into hers.

"I love you, Gil," she whispered, leaning up and into him, softly covering his lips with hers.

Suddenly coming back into himself, Grissom's eyes widened and he pulled back, looking down at her, and realized what he'd done. "Damn. Did I hurt you?" he asked, his face etched in concern.

Laughing softly she replied, "If you did, then please do it again."

Smiling, he released his connection, stood back from her, and helped her stand. With her arms still trapped in her jacket, he tilted his head and kissed her with nothing but a gentleness he hadn't felt in so long it was foreign.

"Come sleep with me," she whispered, wriggling the jacket to the floor, and pulling the remaining clothes off in a trail to the bedroom. Looking back at the motionless man, she whispered, "Please come sleep with me."

Curling together on the bed, their legs entwined, she laid her head on his chest. Running his fingers through her curly hair, he murmured, "I've missed you," before his heavy eyes overruled the other senses and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

She lay there, listening to his heart beat, and wondered just how much pain she'd caused. For now, he needed rest, but when he woke… they needed to talk. Eventually, sleep found her as well, and the lovers lay together as morning light streamed into the room.

Hours later, the first thing to penetrate Sara's sleep was the texture of skin and hair under her cheek. The second was the feel of fingers running gently through her hair, making her moan with relaxing pleasure. Smiling, she tilted her head, and placed a gentle kiss on his chest.

When she looked up, Grissom's grin widened, and she watched him. He seemed entranced – watching as the curling mass slid through his fingers, until he reached the ends, and the strands seemed to float down. When his gaze met hers, those same fingers reached down to rub across her lips, as if memorizing them.

His eyes were so much clearer than when she arrived. She shivered, remembering the trepidation she'd felt when he'd opened the door. Something in those eyes had become so bleak in her absence. It was a look she'd never seen before, and never wanted to see again. He'd had times when they'd looked hopeless, particularly after a hard case. They'd never looked so lost before, and she wondered what else he was hiding from her.

Sitting up, she fluffed up her pillow and lay back, immediately feeling disconnected. So she grabbed his hand, like a lifeline.

"How have you been?" she asked, watching as those blue eyes darted away, and he mumbled, "Okay."

Raising her hand to his cheek, she turned his face towards hers and whispered, "Don't lie to me, Gil." Staring into his eyes, she asked again, softly, "How have you been?"

The brilliant blue dimmed, and his forehead tensed when he whispered, "Lonely. Hollow. Angry…"

"I wish you'd told me," she gently said, and leaned into him, feeling his arm wrap around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and ran her hand across his chest, feeling the comfort of the familiar planes and angles. "I wish I'd asked and listened," she murmured.

With a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up, and looked into her eyes. "Turn about is fair play," he said. He waited a beat before asking, "How have you been?"

Her eyes never left his when she whispered, "Lonely. Hollow. Angry…"

Chuckling, he pulled her closer and said, "We're pretty damn clueless, aren't we," and felt her lips smile against his neck. They just lay there, relishing the feeling of each other for awhile, until Hank jumped up on the bed and tried to push Sara out of the way. Laughing, she pushed the dog back, playfully, and he grabbed her pillow. Grissom truly laughed for the first time in quite awhile, as he watched the two play tug-of-war. When the dog had decided he'd played enough, he slurped his tongue across Sara's face, and made a bee-line for his doggy bed, and curled up.

"How about I make lunch," Sara offered. Grissom had other ideas. Grinning, he asked, "Don't we need a shower first?" When she grinned at him, knowing the game he wanted to play, he prompted her out of bed, saying, "Why don't you go ahead. I'll be there in a moment… I feel like working for my meal."

By the time they emerged, Sara felt amazingly sore in just the right areas, and couldn't seem to stop grinning. As he stepped behind her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered, "I love you."

While the words surprised her a little, as he rarely said them aloud, it was the tone that had her turning in his arms. "I love you, too," she replied, and spread her hands across his chest. Looking into his eyes, she could still see fatigue. "We need to really talk, Gil," Sara said, "but let's start with lunch and work our way there."

Feeling a slight reprieve, Grissom nodded, and they dressed in quiet. Working side-by-side in the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of simple household chores returned. Soon, they were sitting at the table, eating lunch and stealing glances.

"I'm going back to California," Sara said, laying her fork on her plate, and pushing it back. The resolution apparent in her eyes, she continued, "I have to finish what I started."

He'd had a feeling she wasn't home to stay, but still his stomach clenched hearing her say the words. Pushing his own plate back, he very softly replied, "Okay."

"I need to deal with my past alone," she reflected, and saw the disappointed look in his eyes. Reaching over to lay her hand on his, she continued, "but I need to be here, as well. I think I can do both, with your help." When he opened his mouth to speak, she raised her hand and corrected with, "Let me rephrase that. I think we can do this… because I don't need to always be alone to find my way back here. You don't always need to be waiting for me to return."

Grimacing, he wouldn't look in her eyes when he said, "I didn't realize what you felt like… when I left a year ago. It had been my choice – my decision. It never occurred to me it could feel like this."

Finally he asked, "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," she replied, and before his eyes had a chance to dim, she lightly laid her lips across his, whispered, "When will you come to visit me?" and felt him smile.

Standing away from him, her face turned somber. "We used to talk," she said, and shook her head.

"We haven't really talked in months," he concurred, "we lost that in the desert."

"I want to get back to really saying things to you," she told him, walking back into his open embrace. Closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder, she whispered, "I missed you long before I left."

"I'm happy you're here," he sighed. His face set in a frown, when he added, "How you knew I needed this – you – I couldn't even begin to understand." Suddenly producing out her cell phone, Sara dialed her voice mail, and held it up to Grissom's ear. His eyebrows shot up at the sound of Greg's voice, and all he could say was, "Well… hmm…" As Sara laughed, Grissom couldn't decide whether he was more embarrassed by his attitude at work or by the fact that Greg had more guts in talking to Sara than himself.

Sara grinned when she said, "Your ears are red," and kissed him.

By mutual unspoken agreement, the rest of the night went the same as a typical night in the Grissom residence. Quietly, Sara curled up on the couch and read a forensics journal, while Grissom ensconced himself in his office for awhile to research bees. Later in bed, Sara whipped Grissom at Gin, and he challenged her to a game of strip poker.

Lying naked, while he remained fully clothed, Sara laughed, "Why do I let you talk me into this?" He smirked, "I believe you've beaten me at strip Gin Rummy on more than one occasion."

"But you're way overdressed, Dr. Grissom, for the kind of activity I'd like to have right now," she said, stretching her arms and sighing with a grin. Standing, he stripped off his clothes and joined her. Their hands gently roamed and stroked, heating skin and blood. When her head tipped back, he let his mouth follow the line of her throat, dipping between her breasts, his hands gently rubbing the peaks.

As her eyes glazed over, he raised himself over her. Gradually entering her, he felt her breath against his skin as his gentle thrusts drove a burning heat through them both. Slowly and rhythmically they tumbled into the abyss. Holding onto one another, hands and bodies entwined, they fell into the most restful sleep they'd had in ages.

Taking her to the airport was difficult for them, as they had to say goodbye again. "I hated the way I left," Sara murmured, as they stood outside security. Sighing, he hugged her quickly and said, "As did I."

Patting the roundtrip ticket in his coat pocket, Grissom smiled, and said, "But I'll see you in three weeks, and I'll call you tonight."

Looking into his eyes, Sara said, "I think I'm starting to understand some things about myself, Gil. I want you to be a part of that – even if it's with short visits and phone calls."

"I better go," she whispered, and kissed him quickly. As she lined up to walk through security, Sara turned her head back to him, and laughed, "Three weeks."

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A/N – Okay… see the little button down there? Please be nice and press it, because I like hearing from people. People who press it are nice people. Are you a nice person? If you are, please press the review button.