A/N: Thank you to those who continue to read and review!
After Effects
Chapter 6
A sweep of rain blew through, pattering drops on the tile roof top before unleashing a slashing drumbeat surge of water. Sara snuggled against the warm body of her husband, hoping to get three or four minutes before the sounds of small feet joined the pounding of rain.
Less than a minute later, long enough to give Gil Grissom time to move his face into that sweet smelling valley of his wife's chest, they heard the fast steps of children's feet.
"It's scary," Bronwyn whispered as Grissom boosted his youngest child into the bed. Not for the first time, she'd led the way.
"You know it's the rain," he said, moving to make room for her in the middle of the bed.
Both boys crawled over the foot of the bed; one saying, "It's loud!" They wiggled underneath covers, each taking a parent's side of the bed.
"I'm not staying by myself."
He gave Cate a helping hand as she scrambled over her brother and her dad to the middle of the bed.
Sara laughed. "Are we having fun?"
Cate was the only one who answered, saying, "It's like sleeping on the boat, isn't it." In the darkness the little girl found her mother's hand, twinning fingers together.
From an early age, the children had slept with their parents on the boat; a bed that had become increasingly crowded.
"It is," Sara whispered.
In mere seconds, everyone was asleep except for Sara.
The rain poured, making waterfalls, replenishing pools and streams, filling gutters that flowed into rain barrels, drenching everything in this magnificent rainforest. The month had passed in a flash of experiences to be remembered and relived for weeks, hopefully making memories that would last a lifetime.
The kids had played and explored under the supervision of two local teenagers who had taught them how to use the zipline, to paddle a kayak, to fish, to climb onto rickety looking ladders to walk above the forest canopy, to trek into the rainforest at night with flashlights to find animal eyes shining back at them.
As a family, they had paddled along the slow-moving river as colorful and loud toucans pierced the air with wailing calls. Bright yellow-tailed oropendolas bubbled and gurgled from long hanging nests. They played in a clear, shallow pool underneath a shining, frothing waterfall and hiked well-marked trails in search of butterflies and birds, frogs and lizards, monkeys and anteaters. But no sloth.
Grissom had returned to his love of insects, working alongside two researchers as they recorded the life-cycle of a certain kind of glasswing butterfly—an on-going project for a decade—that took them deep into the forest. Sara was fairly certain, based on her husband's enthusiastic narratives, he had spent more time looking at every insect he'd seen than actually helping the researchers.
Her insect interest was far below that of Gil Grissom's, so, when she wasn't following the kids around, had helped care for an injured white-faced monkey and worked in the vegetable garden; and spent time alone for the first time in years. She and her husband had actually spent unaccompanied hours in kayaks padding the shallow river to its mouth where it entered the Pacific Ocean.
The two of them had been quietly paddling in clear water when they spotted a group of large blue Morpho butterflies along the bank.
"At least six inches," Grissom had whispered. "There must be a hundred or more!"
They stayed until the butterflies rose in a blue mass, flying over the water and disappearing into trees. Grissom's audible sigh increased until it became celebratory whoop of laughter.
"Isn't that the most beautiful sight? A cloud of Morphos!" Gently, he rocked the kayak, adding, "Remember seeing them before—on our honeymoon!"
Sara splashed her oar in the river, spraying them with a shower of water. "That was a long time ago, dear!" She grinned. "I do remember."
As they had paddled upriver squads of vibrant colored macaws flew over them and a large red fish splashed from the water to catch an insect.
It had been a wonderful month of new adventures and activities.
Sara, attempting to sleep, tried to turn in bed and found sharp elbows, bent knees, and round bottoms sliding into every vacant place. When she edged to the end of the bed, her space was immediately filled. Going into the children's bedroom, she straightened bedcovers in one of the narrow beds and crawled in, listening to the gentle rhythm of rain until she slept.
As a pale finger of light slowly moved across the rumpled coverlet, Sara felt an arm slip around her back. With no warning, warm lips touched her shoulder. A second later, she lifted his hand, kissing it and, when her husband's lips touched hers, she responded. Her thigh pressed against him and through the thin fabric of the bedcovers, she felt the warmth radiating from his body.
He had always been a loving, giving partner and as they had aged, he had become even more skilled, how to use fingers and tongue, caresses and kisses, to bring her to peak experiences during sex. In the early hours of the morning, again, he pulled covers over both of them, and with an ingrained familiarity, made love to the love of his life.
His mouth was soft and hot as it descended to her skin, finding places of sensation; the velvet curve of her breast, the delicate rim of her navel, the silky inside of her thigh. His tongue teased and tickled, danced and grazed over her body until Sara felt the quivering of pleasure, the bolts of delight running through her with each touch. Finally, he slipped inside her causing her to groan as she burst into her climax. Seconds later, she felt the hot surge, the deep growl that accompanied his throbbing orgasm.
When the sun touched the porch of the cabin, Sara and Grissom were side-by-side in a hammock, his foot touching the deck enough to give them a gentle swing.
"You're happy?" Grissom asked.
Sara hummed an affirmative answer.
"Let's come back—soon—not years."
Kissing his jaw, thinking she was the luckiest woman in the world, she agreed.
Later in the day, they watched as their children ran in pouring rain, jumping in puddles, standing in the downpour with upturned faces. The raindrops were enormous, soaking right to the skin, plastering hair around heads like a mop coming out of a bucket. The sheer quantity of water was incredible, especially to the Grissom children who had seldom seen heavy rain showers.
Grissom chuckled, saying, "What's the difference in the rain last night and today?"
Sara stretched her arm into the rain and picked a brightly colored flower from a vine growing along the porch. Turning to her husband, she grinned and put her arms around him so the flower touched her nose.
Grissom kissed her; starting with a quick peck on the cheek that turned into a long, loving and deep kiss. Finally, Sara broke away, laughing. "You'll have four very wet kids up here if they see us!"
Grissom said, "Is that it? They want to be included or break us apart?"
Sara laughed and kissed him again.
A/N: This will be a short story, probably 8-10 chapters. Thank you to everyone who reads, helping to keep GSR alive!
