A/N: Thanks to everyone who continues to read!

Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2

Chapter 17

Gil Grissom's nose twitched before he was awake; the aroma of fresh fruit tapped his sense of smell, entered his brain, and fired off a combination of nerves that produced a pleasured, remembered scent. The dreamy, warm cocoon of sleep tempted him to keep his head tucked into the comfortable pillow, but then he woke enough to remember what day it was.

His birthday. August 17. Usually one of the hottest days of summer.

And fruit—he was certain he smelled cherries—was in his bed.

Rotating his head in a quarter turn, he managed to lift one eyelid. Across the bed, arms length away, was Sara, reading a book, with a bowl sitting next to her.

"I smell cherries."

Slowly, she picked one out of the bowl, held it by the stem for a moment as she appeared to examine it closely, and then she dropped it in her mouth. A grin lifted the corners of her lips as her tongue moved against her cheek several times before she revealed the stem, neatly tied in a knot, between her teeth. Looking at him with beautiful, affectionate brown eyes and a smile on her face, he could think of no better way to begin his birthday.

Then she leaned over his face, pushed the cherry between her lips, and pressed it to his. She giggled as she held it tightly, sucking on it as he tried to take it with his mouth. More giggles from both as the cherry finally landed in his mouth.

"Happy birthday, dear," Sara whispered as his teeth burst the fruit and sent a wave of aroma up his nose along with a sensation of sweetness and tartness flooding into his mouth.

As he chewed, she picked up another cherry, held the stem between her teeth, and dangled it over his mouth. When he pushed the pit out on his tongue, she gently lifted it off and placed the next one in his mouth.

"I wish I could tie a cherry stem in a knot," he said with a chuckle.

"It's a gift—a natural born talent." Sara said as she scooted next to him, the bowl now on her chest.

She plopped a cherry in her mouth and chewed.

Grissom pushed himself up and plumped his pillow behind his head. He said, "How do you feel?"

"Fine."

She had given the same reply for ten days in a row. He let it go; they both knew but would wait for results on the fourteenth day.

Another cherry went into her mouth.

"Are you going to share?" He asked.

Grinning, Sara handed him two cherries and took the pit he'd just taken from his mouth. She dropped it into a small receptacle made into the side of the larger bowl.

He had brought her the bowl from Michigan where he'd gone to see how research in honey bee colonies was conducted. He had found the bowl in an airport gift shop. A bowl for cherries with a little pocket to hold the pits; he had never brought her a gift she used as much as this bowl.

For a few minutes, they munched on cherries.

Then, Sara said, very quietly, barely suppressing a giggle, "Who burst your cherry?"

"What?" So startled by her question, he almost choked on a cherry.

"You know—who was your first?"

Grissom rolled to his side. "Do you mean who was the first person I had sex with?"

Sara giggled, nodding, "yeah."

Reaching for another cherry, he said, "I can't believe you are asking me!"

"Well, you already know when I had sex the first time—sort of."

His eyebrows rose.

"I told you—before I went to college."

Grissom chuckled. "You did tell me about him…"

"Fifteen seconds from start to finish."

He grimaced.

"Tell me about your first—you've always avoided the story."

He squirmed a bit, adjusting his body so he could put an arm around his wife and pulled her close. He said, "It was a long time ago—I barely remember it."

She gave him a healthy poke with her elbow. "Come on. I know you remember! And I bet it's a good one!"

He made a grimace before contorting his face in an indulgent smile. He asked, "Why do you want to know this?"

Picking up another cherry, Sara laughed before saying, "Because I yearn for knowledge—in this case, I want to know who got you in bed for your first time!" She passed the cherry to him. "Come on—on your birthday! Tell!"

"I think I'd rather—cut my toenails on my birthday than tell you the story."

His comment caused her to laugh and roll to face him. "I know it's a good story! Now tell!"

She placed the bowl between them and he noticed it was almost empty.

"I'll get more cherries," he said.

Quickly, Sara's leg went over his. "Nope," she said. "You have to tell the story first." She tightened her leg grip. "And then I'll fix pancakes." She smirked, adding, "as a reward for telling—and your birthday."

"I was what you would call a 'late bloomer'."

She smiled. "I'm listening."

For several seconds, he thought about how he could postpone relating his first sexual experience. Then the events of the preceding months slammed into his emotional brain; he would tell her.

"It happened when I was in college," he said, watching Sara as she turned her face to his. "Senior year."

Sara's eyebrow lifted slightly.

"It—times were different back then. Weren't that many women in biology—and I was—I was a ghost." His mouth twitched at the corner before he said, "I had a few girlfriends and most wanted much more than I was ready—to give—so—so those didn't last long."

When he stopped his narration, she gave him a look of encouragement but didn't say anything.

"My senior year, I was a lab assistant—and my supervisor was—ah—a pretty woman—was…"

"Older?"

He nodded. "Older. During the year, we got to know each other—I mean, we worked together every day. She—she had a couple of kids—I thought she was—ah—around forty—divorced. Working on a master's degree. And then, one day, near the end of the semester, she asked if I'd like to eat lunch with her."

Sara's head settled against his shoulder.

He continued, "We had eaten lunch nearly every day—so what made this different, I thought. Then she said she'd cooked the night before and had leftovers—at her apartment. I was pretty clueless so we drove to her apartment—kids were in school or somewhere because it was just the two of us."

His arm was around Sara; his hand resting right below her breast. He asked, "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes!" After she answered, she turned her face and kissed his chin. "Much more interesting than my first time."

"Well, it didn't take long for her to heat up the roast—and—and open a bottle of wine. After putting two plates on the table, she disappeared for a few minutes, and when she returned—she had—had—ah—changed her clothes." He chuckled. "And then the light came on and I realized what was going on. She had on this short black gown and nothing else. Her hair was down on her shoulders—and by the time she handed me a glass of wine, I had decided she wasn't nearly as old as I thought she was."

Sara made a low groan, adding, "You were seduced by an older woman! Was she pretty?"

"Oh, she was pretty—once she got out of that lab coat and her hair was down—she was beautiful! We never ate the roast, but I did make it to my three o'clock lab."

Laughing at his last sentence, Sara asked, "Did this go on—I mean did you date?"

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "She came to the lab the next day, thanked me for being such a gentlemen, and nothing else was ever said! A few weeks later, I went to Chicago. The day I left, she gave me a dissecting kit—nice one."

Another cherry appeared over his mouth as Sara asked, "Do you know what happened to her?"

"Years later, I saw her name on a research paper—she was in Oklahoma."

A soft giggle. "I have a question."

"Okay."

"Was she prepared? I mean—you know—wearing the gown…"

Grissom chuckled. "She was prepared. Clean sheets on the bed. Condoms sealed in a new package at the bedside. Even had toiletries in her shower that were new. And she had country music playing."

"You are still a gentleman—just so you know."

"Well, now that I think about it—it was an odd situation and I'd never mentioned my—my lack of experience to anyone." He chuckled. "In a few hours, I learned a lot about anatomy."

"And you never heard from her again?"

"Nope. She knew where I was going—I think she had another semester to go before she graduated."

Sara lifted her head to look at him. "What's her name? I'm going to look her up."

"Why!"

Her lips pressed together before she smiled. "I want to see what she looks like—the older woman who finally got you in bed." Suppressing another giggle, she added, "She must have been pretty and smart."

Groaning quietly, Grissom shifted, saying, "Wait here." He got out of bed, limping slightly as he adjusted his boxers and left the room.

A few minutes later, he returned, holding a dark-colored book in his hands, flipping pages as he got back in bed. He said, "I know she's in here."

After turning pages, back and forth, he stopped at a page, placed a finger on one of the pictures and said, "That's her. Diane Howell. God, I haven't thought of her name in years."

Sara leaned to look closely at the page. A line of young men were standing behind a table; a woman in a white lab coat, dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, was in the foreground. The camera had taken a posed, clear photograph of the group standing in a lab.

Smiling, Sara pointed to one of the men. "Ahh—I'd know you anywhere! Look at your hair!"

"We were science nerds—all of us."

Sara giggled. "I know why she picked you—cutest one of the group!" She moved her finger to the woman. "So this is the woman who—who—popped your 'man cherry'." She giggled and turned to kiss him. "And she is pretty."

Grissom returned the kiss and then said, "You are beautiful." He hugged her, kissing her hair before saying, "Come on—let's make pancakes. Celebrate my birthday." He closed the yearbook.

Sara sat on the edge of the bed, her long legs appearing pale against the sheets. "Would you like to go out to Red Rocks today? We could take Hank; walk one of the trails…" Her words stopped with a quiet sigh.

Delicately, he touched her chin and lifted her face. When her eyes met his, tears moistened her lashes. Quickly wiping her eyes, she murmured, "It's the hormones."

"I know it is, honey." His hand moved to her cheek, threading fingers in her hair as he pulled her close. "A day at Red Rocks will be the perfect birthday."

"I've failed again—I know I have."

"Shh," he whispered. "You haven't failed—we have not failed. We have six embryos waiting for next time. And we know the statistics." He kissed her forehead, keeping his mouth against her skin as he said, "One day, we'll remember these quiet mornings and laugh. We'll have a couple of kids running around, waking us up at the crack of dawn."

Quietly, Sara sniffed. "One, Gil, if we have one."

"A girl," he whispered.

He felt her tremble. She said, "A boy—like you. I'd like a boy."

"Then we'll have a boy and a girl—one for you and one for me."

Pulling away from him, Sara said, "Sorry—I didn't mean to get so—so emotional."

"You are fine," he said with a smile. "Let's go make some pancakes."

A halcyon day spent in an area that did not see changes in a decade much less a few months. They followed a twisting path that led through fantastic rock formations into a wide bowl-like sandy floor. The blue sky high above, a splash of green marked a place with water. A hawk circled above the rock walls pocked by a fretwork of stone.

For the first time in days, Sara noticed the sparkle in Grissom's eyes as he examined tracks of tiny insects, investigated heaps of rocks where the creatures might rest, and probed little hollows for their nests.

When the sun made long glowing fingers across the sky, they turned back with the dog trotting ahead.

As they walked, holding hands, they talked about things that were inconsequential until they reached the car. Sara turned to her husband, her face suddenly solemn.

"You should take the offer—go back to Peru."

Holding the car's door open for Hank to jump in, he slowly closed the door and opened the front door for her. "We've talked about this, Sara."

"I know we have. It will be two months before we try again with the frozen ones. You should go—it's a great opportunity."

As he shook his head, she added, "It's for six weeks—and you know you'd have a great time." She grinned, adding, "Consider it your birthday present!"

He tried several tactics to make a case for staying in Vegas, but she was adamant. A few days later, the pregnancy test was negative; results they expected.

A week later, Grissom leaned on the railing of a small river ship heading up the Amazon River, almost hypnotized by the rhythm of the river. A light spray of water hit his face.

He was on his way to a research station in the Pacaya-Samiria Reserve, the largest protected area in Peru.

Grissom's phone rang, surprised it was able to connect to a distant tower. He answered it.

"Gil! How's the cruise?" Sara's voice, as clear as if she were standing next to him.

"The conga line just finished," he answered, keeping his voice light.

They talked for a few minutes; she had worked a long shift and he heard fatigue in her voice. As they spoke, he turned until he was facing north. Facing the home he'd left behind.

A/N: We'd love to hear from you! Real life crowding in-more when we can!