Sara and Candy sat in the office bouncing ideas off each other for a fundraiser when they heard the sound of the side door slamming and muffled swearing. Mary came stumping into the office muttering under her breath.
"What's wrong?" asked Candy, concerned. Mary paused in the doorway of her office, a scowl on her face.
"The truck won't start, and I have to pick up some horses this afternoon."
"May I have a look?" asked Sara, eager for something fun to do. Candy and Mary stared at her, shocked. Sara shrugged. "I like working on cars," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. Now twenty-six weeks pregnant, and blatantly so to all of her co-workers, Sara was tired of being fussed and cooed over. Her regular phone conversations with Greg provided her friend with much amusement as she vented her feelings about being treated like a ball of cotton wool by a group women emanating pure estrogen. Mary tossed her keys to Candy as her phone rang. But before answering it, she said
"Keep an eye on her," as she gestured to Sara. Candy giggled as they made their way out to the truck, Sara grumbling about being able to take care of herself. Having become good friends with the team, Sara now found herself as the recipient of an awful lot of emotional attention. Mary, Mariah, Marie, Maria, Mikah, Marissa, Mari, Mae, Maddy and Mabel were all very nice, but very much overly attentive now they knew their team mate was expecting. The fact that Mary had somehow managed to employ so many M's still amazed Sara; as did the fact that she had finally managed to get all the names straight. She and Candy had shared more than a few bouts of the giggles that one work environment could be so overcrowded with a single letter of the alphabet. Sara slid into the driver's seat and checked the ignition and the clutch before turning on the radio to see if the battery was dead. Something suited to Greg's stereo blasted through the speakers, making Sara wince.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked Candy as she lifted the hood and Sara locked it in place.
"I'm saddened by your lack of faith in me," sighed Sara, inspecting the engine. She leaned over as far as she could, poking around. Candy held back a snort of laughter as Sara tried awkwardly to lean over the bumper, her now very prominent stomach getting in the way. She stood back with a sigh.
"I can't see anything from up here." Candy frowned at her.
"You don't want to go crawling underneath do you?" she grumbled.
"That's the best bit," grinned Sara, heading for the storage shed with Candy trailing along behind her. Sara went straight for the tools she had organized some weeks back, making her selection before selecting a pair of men's coveralls that would fasten over her expanding body. Candy shook her head in amusement and selected a pair for herself. They changed and left their clothes on the shelf, out of the way. Sara was grateful the truck had a high ground clearance as she carefully but gleefully edged underneath and dragged her bag of tools after her. Candy pursed her lips, watching with resignation. She had learned over the weeks that Sara was a force of nature, a force to be reckoned with, and a force that rarely listened to others when she wanted to do something. With a sigh Candy lay down on the ground and inched her way under the truck; if keeping an eye on her friend meant getting a little grubby, then so be it.
...
At three-thirty Mary looked up from the computer when Sara and Candy walked back into the office. Mary surveyed their appearance, for a moment thoroughly confused, before remembering that Sara had wanted to look at the truck. They were dressed in filthy coveralls, with greasy hands and streaks of oil and dirt on their exposed skin.
"Truck's fixed," said Candy brightly, heading for the staff room to wash her hands, Sara followed her, smiling. Gaping, Mary followed them, bemused.
"You fixed it?" she clarified, as Sara slathered soap onto her skin.
"Yes ma-am," said Sara, rinsing her hands. Candy dried off and then went to fetch their clothes. Mikah came in from the cattery just as Candy returned; her eyebrows rose.
"Sara and Candy just fixed the truck," Mary told her as Sara used paper towels to wipe oil off her face.
"Where'd you learn how to do that?" asked Mikah.
"Some when I was a kid, some in college. I had a roommate who was a mechanic when I lived in San Francisco. She got me to help out when she was busy, in exchange for kitchen duties. I love playing with cars," grinned Sara. "The guys used to tease me, but they always tried to get out of auto detail if I was around to do it for them," she laughed.
"Did you work in a car shop too?" asked Candy, suddenly surprised that they had never talked much about Sara's work history.
"No, I was a Crime Scene Investigator," replied Sara, stifling a yawn. She excused herself and headed for the bathroom. She changed and washed lingering traces of oil from her face before returning to her desk to finish her log books for the day. Candy was waiting for her, scanning through the email.
"What are you doing tonight?" she asked a while later, finger combing her hair, which was now purple.
"We have some awards ceremony to go to. Something to do with the Dean," sighed Sara.
"Bummer," commiserated Candy.
"What about you?" asked Sara.
"My cousin's engagement party," she groaned. "I hate him. He used to steal my dolls and throw them in the pool when I was a kid."
"Some Friday night we're going to have then," mused Sara.
"Hey, it's four o'clock already, you should get going," said Candy, pointing to the time. Sara got to her feet, sighing internally as she thought about the evening's ordeal. She was filing a last invoice when a slight commotion in the staff room caught both her attention, and Candy's. They went to investigate, finding Mikah, teenage Mae and grandma of ten Mabel crowded together peering at an iPad. Sara looked at Candy and shrugged, opening her locker and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Turning back around, she saw Candy look up from the screen Mae was showing her, her mouth open in surprise.
"This is you, isn't it," said Mikah, turning the device around and showing Sara a digital copy of a newspaper article. Sara felt the blood drain from her face as her breath caught in her throat. She staggered backwards and grabbed the table as she slipped, twisting her back. Candy lunged forward to help, her eyes wide at the stricken expression on her friend's face.
"Are you ok?" she murmured.
"Yeah," replied Sara, her face ashen and a hand moving to her screaming back muscles. She looked up to find the others staring at her, the screen still displaying her department id photo, with a small inset picture of Natalie surrounded by text.
"Is it you?" asked Mae, alternately staring at Sara, and then the screen.
"I have to go," said Sara abruptly. "I'm late for an appointment," and she blew out of their as fast as she could move. Throwing herself into her car she tore out of the parking lot and raced home. In the kitchen Hank and Lucy were begging to be let out, so she released them into the back garden and then ran into the bathroom where she threw up everything she had eaten for lunch into the toilet. Shaking, she brushed her teeth and sank onto the bed, head in her hands as she concentrated on breathing. Panic threatened to consume her in a way she hadn't experienced since before going to Costa Rica. Cursing her hormones, she concentrated on the sharp ache in her back until she felt calm descending over her. Socks and Romeo scrambled onto the bed with her, and settled, purring, in her lap, further soothing her. Relaxing, she lay on the floor and stretched out with Socks on her chest and Romeo curling around her head. Kicking off her shoes, she waited for the muscle spasms to ease. Juliet meandered into the room and draped herself over Sara's feet, chewing her sock.
...
Thoroughly dissatisfied with the prospect of celebrating twenty-six weeks of pregnancy with Sara at a dinner for the dean, Gil let himself into the house earlier than usual, having decided that he had, quite frankly, had enough of his obnoxious office mate, considering that he would be seeing him later that evening. Seeing the dogs outside, he meandered into the bedroom in search of his other half. His gaze fell on Sara, lying flat on the floor, eyes closed, completely immobile, and surrounded by felines who all turned to look at him when he gasped.
"Sara," he called, horrified, running to her side and dropping to his knees. He pressed two fingers to the pulse point on her neck and leaned over to check her breathing. Abruptly, Sara awoke with a small shriek. Gil leapt backwards, heart pounding. Recovering himself he grabbed her shoulders, eyes wide as he stared at her.
"Are you alright?" he demanded, half out of his mind with panic. Seeing how worked up he was, Sara put a hand on either side of his face and pulled him down into a soft kiss.
"I'm fine," she assured him with a loving smile.
"Why are you on the floor?" he asked, his expression still twisted with worry.
"My back is killing me," she sighed, stroking his cheek. "I think I've pulled a muscle and this seemed to be the most comfortable position. I was meditating and I must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry honey," she sighed, kissing him gently again. Gil eased her up onto the bed and then helped her out of her jeans, socks, jacket, shirt and bra. Propping pillows under her chest and hips, he helped her lie down on her front. Striping off his work clothes he headed for the bathroom, washed his hands and picked up a bottle of lotion. Back in the bedroom, he climbed up onto the bed and proceeded to massage the moisturizer into her skin, loosening her muscles and making her relax, bit by bit.
"What's the matter?" he asked softly as his fingers kneaded the back of her shoulders. "Why are you so worked up?" After so many years, he knew every aspect of her body intimately, and its reactions to stress. With a sigh, Sara calmly told him about her day, and the panic that had gripped her when Mae showed her the photograph of Natalie.
"It has to be the hormones," she sighed, closing her eyes with pleasure and Gil worked his way down her spine. "Except for the odd nightmare here and there, I haven't been bothered by that in such a long time." Gil leaned forward and kissed her temple tenderly.
"I'm sorry," he murmured to her, "I wish I could make it stop."
"It's not your fault," she replied, as he sat up and ministered to her lower back. "I'm all over the place emotionally right now."
"How does it feel now?" he asked, trailing his fingers from the top of her spine all the way down and then moving to her hips.
"Amazing," murmured Sara, shifting slightly and testing her muscles. "I knew there was a reason I married you." They laughed, and Gil moved to tickle her sides lightly, but caught his fingers in the hem of her panties. Sara gasped as they pulled against her. A sudden overwhelming blaze of desire flooded through her at his touch, and she sat up as quickly as she could, tossing the pillows aside. Gil helped her, and moments later they were sitting face to face; without preamble Sara leaned forward and captured his lips with her own. Pulling her into his lap, he kissed back, his tongue desperately seeking its mate; Sara moaned deeply as she opened her mouth to him. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he pulled her into his lap, his hands roaming heatedly over her body, her skin burning under his touch. Sara slipped her fingers under the elastic of his boxers, earning a deep hiss of pleasure in her ear. They moved apart to shed the last of their clothing, before Gil pulled her down on top of him.
"Sara," he gasped as they slid together, his hands on her hips pulling her to him. Sara's eyes were closed as their bodies danced together, her expression one of pure ecstasy. Grissom groaned as her orgasm washed over her and she moaned his name, making him slam headlong into his own high. He rolled sideways and cuddled her against his chest, kissing her fervently.
"Wow," breathed Sara, sweaty curls clinging to her cheek, "that was the best massage I've ever had." Gil's laughter tickled her ear, and brought her a string of warm and loving kisses.
"That was seriously intense," he replied softly as Sara closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure. They dozed off, curled together intimately.
...
Grissom woke abruptly when Juliet pounced on his foot. He flinched and yanked his leg backwards when she started to chew his big toe.
"What's going on?" asked Sara, her voice groggy as she stirred from her nap. Gil stroked her arm and kissed her temple as he glanced at the clock.
"Your kitten is trying to eat my toes," he told her.
"Oh," she muttered, intent on falling back asleep.
"Sara, it's gone seven. We've been asleep ages dear."
"So," she sighed, pressing her face into his neck and inhaling his scent.
"We need to shower," he told her, silently damning the dean and his party plans.
"Do we absolutely have to go to this thing?" she grumbled, snuggling against him, inhaling his intoxicating scent and suppressing the urge to jump him. Gil sighed, burying his fingers in her hair. His body was still flush against hers, his skin warm and inviting.
"Don't remind me, I wish we could stay here all night." Her resolve vanished.
"Oh yeah," grinned Sara, suddenly attacking his lips again.
"Sara," he groaned into her mouth, "we need to get ready honey." Sara ignored him, and kept kissing her way down his chest. Growling, he pulled her back up to his lips, nibbling her lip and sneaking his tongue out to tangle with hers again. Sara sighed into him, curling her legs around his and pressing herself against him, gasping. "We need a shower Sara," he moaned, his hands roaming over her breasts. Sara scowled at him and got up, towing him to the bathroom where she switched on the shower and resumed kissing him while the water heated. Unable to help himself, Gil backed her up against the wall, ravishing her lips with his, and running his fingertips over her belly. Their kisses intensified and their passion built as they held each other under the hot water.
"Screw the dean," hissed Sara, pulling him closer and letting her hands succumb to gravity, causing him to gasp and moan in pleasure. Sara teased him, letting her fingers work a kind of magic while her lips worshiped his, cutting off his reply. Gil got a handful of shower gel and let his hands glide over her body, massaging and arousing her with feather light touches. Turning her gently in his arms, he kissed his way across the back of her neck, brushing her soaked hair aside as he nibbled on her soft skin, trail his tongue and listening to her sharp intake of breath as she pushed herself back against him. Sara leaned her hands on the wall as his arms wrapped around her and he entered her slowly from behind. The steam and the hot water only fuelled their overwhelming desire, pushing them both well past the edge of reason in a thunder of racing hearts, gasping breath and loving cries. When her legs gave out under her, Gil turned her in his arms and held fast to him, burying his face in her neck.
"What has gotten into you?" he asked, cradling to his chest.
"You," she replied softly, kissing his shoulder gently. "I believe my current condition, and any associated overwhelming desires, can be attributed to you." Gil laughed and reached for the shampoo. The clock on the bathroom counter told him they had best hurry up.
...
Sara was drying her hair while Gil went to feed the animals and let the dogs back in. Lucy went straight to her bowl, wolfing her dinner down. Hank waited for Grissom to give him some attention before occupying himself with his own meal. Juliet pushed the other two cats out of the way in her haste to get to her kitten crunchies. Romeo tackled her and they rolled away, wrestling. Socks sauntered up in their absence and delicately helped herself. Grissom laughed as he made his way to the office with a handful of dog food for his roaches; Romeo and Juliet streaked past, flew around the room, and bolted back out again. He fed his racers and then hurried back to the bedroom, almost tripping over Romeo on his way. Sara was carefully applying a small amount of makeup; her hair dry and caressing her shoulders and upper back in soft, chocolaty curls. Gil washed his hands and brushed his teeth, then shed his robe and began to put on his dinner suit. He was buttoning his shirt when Sara came over to him and asked him to zip up her dress.
"You look beautiful," he told her as she turned around to face him and fasten his tie for him.
"Thank you," she smiled, smoothing a hand over the smooth earthy green fabric. Her dress was simple, a wrap design that emphasized her figure in the bodice and then flared into a long, effortless and flowing skirt. "You look very handsome yourself, Doctor Grissom." They laughed together, and hurried to finish getting ready.
"You ready for this?" she asked, as they walked into the hall, taking in the mass of people milling around.
"Not really," he sighed, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked forward. Having attended a similar event in Paris, they made their way through the crowd, greeting and chatting with the science staff. Sara struck up a conversation with a woman named Rachel.
"What do you teach?" asked Sara, as Gil went to get drinks.
"Oh, no, my husband is part of the biology department. I'm a neonatal nurse," explained Rachel, putting her wine down on the table and brushing her soft blonde hair back from her face.
"That must be really hard," mused Sara.
"It is, but the rewards are wonderful," Rachel smiled. "I wouldn't do anything different. What about you? Are you a teacher?"
"My husband is guest lecturing here for the rest of the year. I was working for the Las Vegas Crime Lab before we came here, but for now I have a job at an animal shelter."
"You're a scientist too?"
"Theoretical Physics," grinned Sara as Rachel wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"No thank you," she shivered, "I'll stick with nursing thanks." Sara laughed as they continued to talk about their work and interests. Grissom walked over to them and handed Sara her orange juice as she introduced him to Rachel.
"What are you teaching here Doctor Grissom?" she asked.
"Biology mostly," he said. "I'm filling in for Professor Winters while he's on leave."
"Oh, my husband is a bio teacher as well. He specialises in ecology."
"Entomology," admitted Gil, when she asked him where his focus was.
"How wonderful, my niece would love you; she's obsessed with spiders." She held out her wrist, which sported a gold chain with an amber charm on it. "Do you think you could tell me what this is?" she asked, showing him the charm. Gil and Sara looked closely; inside the amber was a perfectly preserved insect.
"Oh, that's pretty," said Sara softly, touching the stone with a fingertip.
"Photinus pyralis," noted Gil. He glanced at Sara, wondering if she had identified the species. She smiled at him.
"It's a firefly," she told Rachel, straightening as Gil peered more closely at the specimen.
"It's very nice," said Grissom, "where did you get it?"
"My sister," began Rachel, before a hand snatched her arm away from Grissom and pulled her roughly against a fuming Michael Harrison. "Ow," cried Rachel, as she tried to tug out of his grip. "Michael, what are you doing?"
"Well, if it isn't Doctor and Doctor Grissom," he sneered, leering at Sara.
"We were just taking about work," said Rachel, yanking herself out of her husband's grip and taking a couple of steps away from him, her eyes burning with embarrassment and fury. Gil held out her bracelet, which had come off her wrist when Michael pulled her away.
"Thank you," she said gratefully and gently, though spots of rage colored her cheeks, and she trembled slightly.
"Are you ok?" asked Sara, concerned as she watched Rachel fumble as she tried to fasten the clasp.
"She's fine," snapped Michael, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her away from the Grissoms. Rachel ripped her arm out of his grasp and fished fixing her bracelet. "Let's go Rachel," hissed Michael, through gritted teeth.
"No," she snapped back, turning away from him to continue her conversation. Michael grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise and yanked her toward him.
"Let her go," said Grissom firmly. Stepping forward, Rachel pulled away from her husband and caught her foot; she stumbled, knocking into Sara who staggered and fell heavily to the side. Gil lunched to catch her too late and felt the impact of her head against the table edge through his entire body. He watched horrified as she crumpled to the floor before he could catch her. Sara lay on her side unmoving and unconscious, with blood steadily seeping onto the pale carpet under her head.
...
...
Sorry for the delay; the flu seems to be making the rounds early here, and my boss is a complete (insert every profane and unpleasant name you can think of here, the guy has seriously had a bug up his ass recently). sorry about the cliffhanger too, that was so not intentional. please r&r, your comments make me so happy. thank you for reading...