A/N: We said it would be short-it is. We said this one would be finished before Christmas-it is with this chapter! Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing! Now-to all the readers out there-we are asking for you to give us a quick 'gift' of a comment/review/hey there! (We see the numbers for readers, so, make our day-15 seconds is all it takes!)
AND May you have the merriest of holidays! And wherever Grissom and Sara are today, we know they are happy!
Christmas in Vegas
Chapter 4
It had taken longer—or perhaps in his haste, it seemed to take hours longer than usual; finally—home and Sara's car in his garage.
As soon as he opened the door, he heard the shower running. And the first thing he noticed was the Christmas holly on the table.
Grinning, he brought in his 'tree' and placed it on the bookcase, moving it several times so he could plug in the lights. He'd asked for decorations and the florist had not disappointed—dozens of small ornaments of Santa Claus, bells, deer, dogs, and snowmen hung from the tree.
Working quickly, he placed several wrapped gifts around the tree in a similar manner to the arrangements Sara had done; then he headed to the bathroom.
He'd learned to announce his arrival—once, he'd surprised her while she was in the shower and had almost gotten a black eye from a bottle of shampoo—so, he knocked before opening the door and saying:
"I'm home, dear! Merry Christmas!"
His reward was her laugh and her response, "Join me!"
Which he did and, combined with the steaming water, it did not take long for heat to penetrate every pore—and heightened sensitivity in every cell. Sara's eyes widened with his caresses as he pulled her into an embrace, and for long minutes, they both relaxed for the first time in hours, holding the other up as water cascaded over their shoulders. Then his hands were moving over her body, stroking firmly with his palm, changing to feather-light touches with his fingers.
Everywhere he touched, Sara felt waves of intense relief followed by deep pleasurable ache. His open-mouth kisses coaxed and stroked her skin, lifting her so his mouth closed over her breast, his hand slipped to the base of her spine and along the cleft of her butt.
Her body clenched as his fingers searched, arousing, gossamer-light, and in sudden urgency, she shifted and he was inside her. Easy and deep, tender and thrilling, she sensed her pending orgasm—rushing to satisfy desire. Balancing one foot on the floor, her leg wrapped tightly around Grissom's thighs, she felt his measured thrusts and tighten around him, hands pressed into his muscles as his climax erupted, along with a deep growl coming from his throat.
Panting, gently, Grissom pushed her against the tile wall, still buried inside her, as he placed a hand on the wall and dropped his head to her shoulder.
Sara's fingers threaded through his wet hair. Softly, she giggled and then said, "That was" a long sigh, "worth the wait."
Fifteen minutes later, a pink-skinned Grissom stood, towel wrapped around his waist, in front of a mirror, where he and Sara appeared as a damp mirage between water drops. He stepped toward the door, realized Sara had, as usual, brought nothing into the bathroom to wear, and reached for his flannel bathrobe hanging behind the door.
"Here," he said as he wrapped it around her shoulders and helped her slide arms into its sleeves. Slowly, he pushed her wet hair away from her face, reached for another towel, and placed it around her head. In appreciation of his gesture, Sara leaned against his shoulder, kissing and nuzzling his neck as he did the same.
For a few minutes, they stood quietly, breathing the scent of their own making, enjoying the intimacy they had created. Sara recognized a softer side of her lover that few people were ever allowed to see. She knew he cared for her, loved her in a way that could be intense and, in her secret thoughts, could be frightening.
Finally, Grissom said, "We should celebrate Christmas—I mean—gifts—surprises."
Sara smiled, saying, "Surprises are good—Christmas surprises are good."
While he pulled on pants and a shirt, she toweled her hair into damp curls and pulled it back with a clip, deciding to wear his bathrobe for awhile.
When she saw the tree he had brought in, she cried. "Happy tears," she insisted as she touched its fragrant needle-like leaves, releasing the aroma of woodsy rosemary. "And real ornaments—I—I don't remember having ornaments!"
Grissom smiled. He said, "We'd decided not to get a tree—we were working! And then we both got one."
"Well, I got a holly bush."
"This one is a rosemary bush."
Sara kissed his cheek and said, "It was the old couple—they—they had each other." She touched one of the small ornaments before continuing, "Their yard was overgrown, neglected, but at one time, it had been a beautiful garden. I could see it—and I wanted us to have something like that—together."
Grissom beamed; pleased beyond words for a long moment. He said, "Open the big one."
"Why did you get one? A tree?"
Chuckling, he said, "You mentioned one as you left the lab—and I—I thought—it's Christmas. We could have a live one—we—we can use it." He picked up the wrapped box and placed it on the countertop.
Inside the large box was a glass terrarium containing several succulent plants. "Perfect," Sara said.
Grissom insisted she open another one before he did. A book for her; a book for him came next. And, thinking alike, living together more often than not, both had gotten music for each other, causing laughter as they playfully argued over which one to play first.
"Are you hungry? Before the next one, do you want to eat?" asked Sara.
With a smile spreading across his face, Grissom shook his head. "No—I'd rather open my present." He placed his last gift in front of her. "You first."
The small flat box held a delicate gold chain with small spheres of gold hanging from the chain. Sara's intake of breath was enough to show her approval. Yet astonishment was his as he opened the box containing the watch.
"How'd you know? I've never mentioned…"
"Twice you spent longer than usual reading the fine print in one of the ads." She grinned, saying, "I noticed."
As he lifted the watch from its box, he said, "Made in the U.S.A."
She waited while he did a close examination, then took it and fastened it around his wrist. He kept smiling as he placed the necklace around her neck, kissing her afterwards.
He said, "This is the best Christmas I've had in years," as he kissed her again.
A few minutes later, Sara said, "Food and I have one more surprise for you."
Grinning with pleasure and a secret, she opened the refrigerator and placed a vegetarian antipasto platter—peppers, cheeses, olives, tomatoes, roasted nuts—on the counter space followed by a bowl of cut-up fruits and chocolate sauce.
Grissom, thinking this was her 'surprise', hugged her, saying, "You've done too much!"
It took a while to satisfy their appetites and to reexamine each gift. Yet neither moved far from the other's reach.
But food was not Sara's secret. While Grissom cleaned up the remnants of their meal, she slipped into the bathroom, shed the old flannel robe, and put on her final 'gift'. Pulling his robe back on, she walked back into the kitchen where Grissom had closed the blinds, darkening the room, so the lights on the tree provided a soft glow.
"I could move it to the living room," he said.
Sara shook her head, saying, "It's perfect where it is—and it's time we got some sleep." She fanned the collar of the robe. "And I have one more gift for you." Smiling, she turned and headed into the bedroom.
At the tone of her voice, and an unexpected sound muffled by the robe, Grissom's expression changed to one of surprise. He dropped the kitchen towel and followed.
Sara kept the robe tightly closed while brushing her teeth and folding back covers on the bed. She turned off all lights in the bedroom except for one lamp and when Grissom crawled into bed, she mumbled an excuse and returned to the bathroom, closing the door.
A minute later, she opened the door and walked back into the bedroom, silhouetted by the light from the bathroom.
Grissom had stretched out on the bed, plumped his pillow, folded his arm underneath his head, and waited.
When Sara opened the door, he had to blink several times to bring her into focus—or more accurately, convince his eyes and brain of the vision before him as Sara walked slowly toward the bed.
"Oh!" More of an explosion of breath than a vocal expression as his eyes took in the woman he loved; her skin seemed to glow—dressed in diaphanous panties and bra adorned with three red bows carefully placed on the small triangles of fabric. With each step, he heard the ting of tiny bells attached to the bra.
Sara crawled over him, one leg on either side so she straddled him. As she leaned to touch his lips, he found his voice, whispering, "Now I know why not one witness could describe those women."
With an artful stroke of his fingertip against the thin fabric between her legs, Sara knew sleep would be postponed for a while longer.
The End!
A/N: Again, thank you for your support and encouragement with our writing! As 2017 comes to a close, we hope everyone can look forward to a healthy and safe 2018.
