Gil was sick, there was no denying it. By the time he finished his ten to twelve lecture, his throat was so sore that it refused to emit another sound. His head pounded, his sinuses ached sharply and his nose was blocked. With a sigh he made his way to the student store, in search of medicine. Once he was well dosed and able to carry on with his day, he turned to his larger problem. With no voice, he could not lecture tonight at the seminar. He sent an email to administration, asking if there was an ASL interpreter available to help him out that night. An hour later he got his reply and scowled at the computer; no one was available. He could not postpone the lecture because it was only a four week class, and he definitely couldn't deliver the lecture verbally. With a sigh he reached for his cell phone, hating to disturb her when she was hanging out with Greg.
Sara, I've lost my voice lecturing. No ASL interpreter available tonight, would you do me the honour? Moments later he received a reply.
Of course, Greg can't wait
...
Before they left to meet Grissom in his office, Sara changed into full length jeans and a longer, more formal but still fitted shirt, wishing she had something more professional to wear that fit her. When she walked into the office and caught sight of her husband Sara felt her heart sink. He was pale and looked tired.
'Hey,' she signed, before Greg followed her in. 'I'm sorry you caught the bug honey. Are you feeling really bad?'
'Nothing a good night's sleep won't help. Thanks for doing this.' Gil stepped out from behind his desk and wrapped her into his arms. Pulling back he smiled at their visitor.
'Hi Greg, how are you?' he signed, with Sara interpreting.
"I'm great thanks. How about you? Aside from being sick?"
'Wonderful,' replied Grissom, slipping an arm around Sara's waist and kissing her temple. Greg smiled,
"Congratulations, both of you," he said, suddenly seeing how truly perfectly they complemented each other.
"Thank you," said Sara as Grissom signed the same phrase. They looked at each other, agreement passing thorough their gazes.
'Greg, we have something to ask you,' said Grissom, before nodding to Sara to continue.
"Ok," said the CSI, suspicious. Sara absently put a hand on her belly, rubbing it gently as the baby kicked her.
"Would you like to be her godfather?" she asked. Greg's mouth fell open as delight coursed through his body.
"Are you sure?" he enquired, a smile lighting up his whole face.
"Very," said Sara, taking Gil's hand in hers, "there is no one we would trust with her life more if something were to happen to us."
"I would be honoured," said Greg, deeply touched. Their moment was ruined by Michael Harrison waltzing into the room and stopping short, his gaze roving over Greg, and then Sara, his eyes widening perceptibly as he took in her the changes in her anatomy since the last time he had seen her in a loose fitting, concealing shirt.
"Well well," he said, his voice sickeningly oily, "if it isn't the other Doctor Grissom."
"Hello Professor Harrison," said Sara flatly. Greg narrowed his eyes as the newcomer very obviously checked out Sara's body, then greeted her snarkily. He held out his hand politely.
"Greg Sanders."
"Michael Harrison."
'We need to go,' Gil said to Sara, picking up his bag and ignoring his office mate.
...
Greg settled himself in the back row, watching as other students filed into the lecture theatre and took seats, talking among themselves. Grissom and Sara stood in the corner by the computer. Gil set up his presentation, chatting with Sara about the day.
'Do you feel really bad?' she asked, concerned.
'I think tomorrow will be worse,' he allowed. Reaching into his briefcase he pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. 'You'll probably need this, it's a lot of talking I'm afraid.'
'Thanks,' she smiled softly and, with her back to the room, blew him a kiss.
'Are you nervous?' he asked, watching her closely. Sara grinned.
'Terrified,' she replied.
'I'm sorry,' he sighed, 'You'll be fine, I promise. Having the weekends as ASL days have helped tremendously. You sign like a native speaker now.'
'Thanks,' she said, taking a deep breath and a sip of water.
'You ready?' he asked, cueing up the projector and picking up the clicker and his notes.
'As I'll ever be,' she nodded, clipping the roaming microphone to her collar and following him up to the podium. Greg watched with interest as the room grew silent with anticipation as Grissom settled his notes and then began to sign fluidly, standing at a slight angle so Sara could clearly see him.
"Good evening," she said, her soft tones washing over the audience. "This is Doctor Sara Grissom who will be interpreting for me tonight because she has kindly shared her cold with me, causing me to lose my voice." A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd and despite her nerves, Sara smiled in amusement. As Gil launched into the lecture, Sara was surprised that she was easily able to keep up with him and deliver the translation without a mistake. When he called for a halftime break Sara walked over to the computer desk in the corner and sank into the chair, sipping her water.
'You ok?' he asked, following her. Sara capped her bottle and put it on the desk.
'Fine,' she grinned. 'Adrenalin rush! I didn't think I would be able to keep up with you.'
'You were wonderful,' he signed. Moving so his back was to the rest of the room, he added, 'and if we were at home right now I would kiss you senseless.' Sara laughed and winked at him.
'If you're feeling alright when we do get home, I'll hold you to it,' she replied, waving Greg over to join them.
"Well," said Greg as he reached them, "if Nick knew I was here right now he would be so jealous." Grissom shrugged and signed a reply. Sara giggled as she interpreted.
'Are you paying attention so you can show him up at your next insect infested crime scene?'
"I came prepared," confessed Greg, whipping a small note book out of his pocket and handing it to Grissom, who perused his notes.
'Very thorough,' he complemented.
"Am I your best student?" asked the ex lab rat, smirking.
'Oh no,' replied Grissom, 'I married her.' Sara's mouth fell open when she realized what she'd said and she elbowed him lightly. He laughed in response and signed, 'I love you honey.'
'Love you too Bugman,' she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Greg watched their exchange, reading their expressions and musing to himself not for the first time just how much in love they seemed to be, and how much more at ease they were with themselves and the world around them since the awful days following Sara's abduction. Even though he could not read their conversation, he had an idea of what they were saying to each other.
'Do you have any questions so far?' asked Grissom.
"Nope," said Greg, "I think I'm following pretty well, considering I'm here mid course. I just wish I could rub it in Nick's face that I was here next time he sends me on a decomp." Sara giggled and stretched her legs out in front of her, twisting slightly from side to side, hoping to loosen up her back muscles. Standing still for so long wasn't as easy as it would have been a few weeks ago.
'You ok?' asked Gil, concern etched into his expression.
'Yeah, just a little sore.'
'I'm sorry, thank you for doing this.'
'My pleasure, it's been fun, and educational.' Seeing Greg's look of concentration Sara sighed.
"I'm sorry Greg," she apologised. "I forgot. I was saying that my back is sore but it's been a pleasure to help out tonight. I can't believe how much I've improved," she added.
"I'm impressed," grinned Greg. "I bet mama Grissom is too." Sara snorted and rolled her eyes.
'She is,' said Grissom. With a sigh Sara agreed.
"She is part of the reason I've improved so much. But we use ASL most weekends," Sara told Greg. "We have language days, to stay in practice." Greg looked at Sara and then Grissom, slightly confused.
'We speak only French on Fridays, only Spanish on Thursdays and ASL on the weekends,' clarified Grissom.
"Doesn't that get confusing?" wondered Greg.
"Not really," said Sara, "it can be funny though. We have a rule that if we can't remember or we don't know a word, we have to describe it in that language until the other guesses and gives the answer." To her surprise Greg burst into laughter, his eyes crinkled in amusement.
'What?' asked Grissom. Greg struggle to get a hold of himself.
"The guys in the lab all had these bets on about just how geeky you two are when you're together. They think you play weird mind games and spend all your time reading science texts and Shakespeare." Seeing their bewildered looks Greg felt his laughter bubble up all over again. Sara and Gil stared at each other; Sara's lips twitched and Gil's eyes twinkled.
'Well, we do read science and Shakespeare. We also play mental chess, word games and 'weird mind games,'' Gil informed him.
"And we watch movies, and go out walking with Hank. We do some normal things," said Sara, thinking that the lab rats would probably think their quiet, peaceful life was completely boring. Greg was still laughing at them as the students began to file back into the hall; he hurried back up to his seat. By the time the lecture ended and Sara spent twenty minutes interpreting for student questions, Grissom was shivering and thoroughly exhausted. The trio made their way back to the cottage, Greg smiling to himself over the way his friends walked hand in hand, like an old married couple. A stampede of animals awaited them when they walked in the door; Greg took Hank and Lucy out into the garden with a ball while Sara made tea and Grissom went into the bedroom. Sara took him a drink, and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned as she put the cup on the bedside table.
'I feel really lousy. I just want to go to bed, but I feel guilty because Greg's here,' he replied wearily.
"Don't worry about it," she said softly, kissing his forehead. "Go to bed, sleep and you might feel better tomorrow. I'll get the Nyquil for you. Greg and I will go and see a movie or something." Sara fetched the medicine and stood over him while he took it, making sure he did. While she acknowledged that she was a terrible patient, he wasn't much better. She extracted his phone from his trouser pockets and put it next to the tea while he slipped out of his clothes and into bed. As if he magically sensed someone on the bed, Romeo was there in seconds, curling up with him.
"You look after him for me," Sara said to the cat. Turning back to her husband she kissed his cheek. "Call me if you need anything," she said gently. He nodded sleepily and closed his eyes, succumbing almost immediately to slumber.
"What's with the tea?" asked Greg as he came back into the cottage and Sara handed him a mug.
"I had to stop drinking coffee, and I was craving it like crazy so we cut it out completely. Now I can't stand it, just the smell makes me want to throw up." Greg wrinkled his nose.
"Have you been doing much of that?"
"Throwing up? Not really. Mostly I sleep really well, which is nice after years and years of insomnia."
"You? Sleep?" said Greg in disbelief. Sara giggled.
"I do what my body tells me too, and my husband."
"You do as you're told?" he asked, even more shocked.
"I was dead on my feet when he came back from Peru. That's when we found out; he made me go to the doctor because he was so worried. That was a serious shock, especially since I was thirteen weeks and I had no idea."
"Hell of a homecoming present for Grissom," laughed Greg. Sara grinned and nodded.
"Yeah, well he was jetlagged, and I was on the point of collapsing from exhaustion, so it worked out pretty well."
"I'll bet it did," said Greg suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. Sara rolled her eyes and flicked a grape at him from the fruit bowl.
"I have to confess, and if you ever tell anyone I said this I will exact the harshest of punishments I can come up with for you," she threatened, looking closely for any sign that he might break their confidence, "that having a normal routine and schedule of hours is wonderful. I couldn't keep CSI hours now, I get too tired." Greg doubled over in mirth.
"I cannot believe," he gasped, "that Sara Sidle just told me she gets tired and could not keep the hours she set all the records for." Sara glared at him, lips twitching.
"That's Sara Grissom," she informed him. Greg's mouth dropped open.
"Weren't you listening tonight?" she asked as she drained her mug and put it in the dishwasher.
"Grissom introduced you as Doctor Sara Grissom. I thought that was just for fun." Sara shook her head.
"No, that's my name; it's all legally changed now. I only put the Sidle in there, hyphenated of course, when I'm writing something academic, to avoid confusion, and because all my work until recently is under my maiden name."
"Oh, ok. So what now? Are we going to do something?"
"How about a movie?"
"What's playing?"
"No idea, I thought you'd know." Greg rolled his eyes at her.
"No, sorry. We could just go and find out," he suggested.
"Yeah, I'm driving this time though," she said, grabbing her purse and keys off the counter. Laughing Greg followed her out. Some things never changed.
"What?" she asked as they got in her Prius.
"Nothing."
"Yeah, right!"
"Ok, I was just musing over how much you've changed, but how much you're still you," he confessed. "I like it, it suits you."
"Thanks," smiled Sara, touched. She reached across to his seat and gave him a sideways one armed hug.
"I've missed you," she said, sitting upright again, but not before messing up his artfully untidy hair. He batted her hand away and stole her purse, tossing it into the back seat.
"I've missed you too," he snickered, pulling the clip out of her hair.
...
Gil sighed and opened his eyes slowly, taking inventory. His sinuses were clear, his headache was gone. His body temperature appeared normal and his throat was no longer being scored by knives. While he didn't feel one hundred percent, he was pretty close. Frowning, he looked at the clock and realized he had slept for over ten hours. Rolling over his gaze fell on his lovely wife. Sara was curled onto her side, facing him, her hair was a tornado around her face and her expression was peacefully oblivious to the thunderous snoring coming from the bedroom across the hall. He lay there quietly, watching her and stroking Juliet, who had crawled up from his feet when he moved. Sara's lips curled into a smile.
"You're staring honey," she murmured, her eyes still closed.
"I can't help it," he whispered in her ear, leaning forward to trail kisses along her jaw, before meandering up to her lips.
"You're feeling better," she sighed happily.
"Much," he replied, running his finger tips up and down her arm, tracing feather light designs.
"Figures," she yawned, opening her eyes. "I'm sick for a week and you get over it in one good night's sleep." She stretched slowly and luxuriously; the blankets slipping down her body to expose an expanse of creamy skin and a hint of cleavage. "Greg should see a doctor," she mumbled, as he kissed her neck lightly, before moving to her collar bone where he grazed his tongue over her skin. Sara gasped and pressed her head back into the pillow.
"He does sound like he's being tortured," mused Grissom, listening to the dreadful racket their sleeping visitor was making. Blocking out the sound, he returned his attention to his assault on Sara's skin. Kissing his way across her shoulder he nibbled her flesh lightly and worked his way back up to her lips, drawing her into a long, slow and sensual kiss. When he pulled back her eyes were glassy and her heart was hammering under his palm. Smiling when she pulled him on top of her and let her hands roam over his skin, he pulled back slightly, not wanting her to go too fast. Spotting her scarf hanging on the bed post he grinned wickedly at her and gently pushed her hands up above her head. Using the scarf, he loosely tied them together, taking in her shocked yet impressed expression. His face hovering inches over hers, he stared down into her eyes.
"No moving, no touching me, no talking, no sound," he whispered sensually, tracing her eyebrows with a finger before waiting for her to acknowledge his rules; she nodded, eyes wide. Gil traced her lips with his finger, his touch lighter than a feather. Moving down her neck, he ran his thumb over her collar bone, letting his fingers absently trail along behind, feeling deep satisfaction from the erratic changes in her breathing. Sara fought valiantly to remain still as his hand slipped lower, skimming over her chest to trace the curves of her breast and then tease her nipple. Gritting her teeth she locked her limbs in place as his repeated his movements on the other side of her torso and just when she was about to lose it and scream at him to stop teasing her, his lips fastened over hers in such a passionate, prolonged and all encompassing kiss that she was rendered completely incapacitated in his arms. When he abruptly ended the kiss and moved to her neck, before allowing his lips to follow the earlier path of his fingertips, Sara bit her lip to keep from growling at him.
It took every ounce of self control Sara possessed not to arch her back and press into him when Gil swirled his tongue around her nipple and suckled. He waited until she was about to crack before moving his lips back up to her neck where he lingered, slowly and delicately, before returning equal attentions to her other breast. Sara curled her fingers around one of the posts of the headboard, gripping it tightly as he moved further down her body, his breath hot against her aching centre. Her knuckles turned white as he slowly, gently and sensually employed his fingers, lips and tongue to bring her to an earth-shattering climax. He moved slowly back up her body, kissing and caressing her gently until he reached her face, where he brushed her sweaty curls away from her eyes and gently kissed her eyelids. Sara opened her eyes and gazed at him, her eyes glassy. She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger over her lips and shook his head; she glared at him, disbelievingly, so he silenced her with a deep and fiery kiss and moved his body over hers. Abandoning his game, Sara slipped her arms out of the scarf and wrapped them around his back as his arms slid under her shoulders. Sara hooked her legs around his and pulled him tightly to her as he slipped deep inside her. He was slow and deliberate, driving her to the edge of reason before pulling back and letting things slow down. At the end of her sanity Sara pressed her lips to his with fervour, kissing him senseless, as he had so put it the night before. Unable to resist her, he gave in to her desires and they tumbled over the edge together in a frenetic tangle of arms, legs and emotional kisses. Collapsing against her, Gil rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she was curled into his chest.
"My God Sara," he whispered into her ear. "The things you do to me," his voice was heavy, thick with lingering passion and spent desire. Sara's response was to snuggle closer to him and softly kiss his lips. It was Greg that brought them out of their hazy glow, forcing them back to reality as he gave a tremendous, shuddering snore that caused even the most devoted of lovers to rouse from their shared place of serenity. Sara giggled into Gil's shoulder as he sighed and held her closer.
"Unbelievable," he sighed, stroking her shoulder and wishing for a few more minutes of peace and quiet. He had just closed his eyes again when Juliet scrambled up on the bed behind him and pounced, landing firmly on his shoulder and chin, meowing loudly in protest that breakfast was late. Sara started to laugh again as he muttered curses under his breath.
...
...
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