A/N: Ratings change! So things are 'warming up'-Enjoy!

I Keep On Loving You

Chapter 19

Three days at home before rehab started again—Sara was in a quiet heaven. No constant background music, no rattle of wheels, no jangle of keys, no squeak of shoes, or clink of equipment, just peaceful silence save for the click of little toenails from two small dogs that enjoyed keeping her company. Even her husband was surprisingly silent as he padded around the house in sock covered feet.

Another surprise was how easily she found sleep—so soundly that when she woke to find the bed empty, she was taken by surprise. A thread of light around an edge of the window told her she had slept through the night. The house was so quiet, she was almost certain she was alone.

"Gil?" Her voice was husky, muffled from sleep. No answer; and no response from the dogs. She had slept so long she had difficulty moving in bed. At the same time, she did not mind the effort and, with no one to hear her, made an audible groan as she rolled to her side. An aching pain wrapped around her hips as she moved—her groan became significantly louder when she realized her wheelchair, sliding board on the seat, was five feet from the bed, out of her reach, which ruled out a trip to the bathroom.

Looking around for her phone, she saw it—on top of Grissom's chest—across the room. Rolling to her back, she exhaled a very long breath, looked at the ceiling and decided she'd laugh rather than cry at her predicament. After all, she thought, he could not be gone long.

The morning's dilemma was their first 'pickle' situation and after Grissom returned, embarrassed and apologetic, they both decided there would be more, but determined they would serve the pickles on a small plate instead of in heaps on a platter.

To make up for his unthinking actions, Grissom carefully picked her up, moved her to the wheelchair, and pushed her into the bathroom.

The first day was a time of adjustment for both. From the wheelchair, Sara could not reach her toothbrush, the upper shelves of the refrigerator, the coffee pot, or the faucet at the kitchen sink. After these discoveries, they made adjustments, laughing as things were moved around. Grissom fixed her breakfast and brought it to the table.

"We'll work things out," Grissom assured her.

Sara ate what he placed before her and told him it was better than anything she had eaten in days. And in the stillness of the house they had rarely shared, they found a peaceful state in simple things.

Grissom brought toast to the table; she spread butter on each slice. He unfolded the daily newspaper and, without a word, pulled the crossword page out and handed it to her. He refilled her coffee cup; silently, she passed the bowl of sugar to him as she filled in the puzzle. In these small ways, without fanfare or other dramatic displays, they took the beginning steps at rebuilding a life together.

"I think I can sleep," Sara said after she had been up for less than an hour. With a quiet laugh, she added, "I never thought about how quiet it is here."

Grissom pushed her into the bedroom but let her move into the bed. Once settled, he placed water, her phone, and a stack of magazines on the bedside table.

"I'm going to call Hodges—see if he's tested your packets and do a few other things—on the phone, so I'll be near if you need me," he said.

As much as she could, Sara wiggled under bedcovers, yawning as she did. "Can't believe I'm ready to sleep again—go—I'll be fine." She giggled as he adjusted the wedge under her fractured leg. "Come back soon—I might need something."

The tone of the giggle caused him to glance in her direction just as she covered her face with the sheet. He caught a glimpse of a crooked smile. The dogs were making swirls in the covers getting ready to nap with her. Gently pulling the sheet from her face, he smirked a grin, "I'll check on you every ten minutes."

Grissom made several phone calls, including one to the lab and got Hodges as he was leaving.

"I've had a busy night, Gil, but I've got your results. Thought I would drop them off on my way home."

Grissom knew David Hodges wanted to be the source of any information he could gather—about Sara, about her condition, about his return—but he had resigned to accept Hodges' chattering to get results but it did not mean Hodges would learn much.

He checked on Sara again and closed the door to the bedroom. By the time he had moved his papers out of the living room and cleared the dining table, the doorbell rang.

Surprisingly, Hodges did not come in, but gave Grissom an envelope with the results at the door. "I won't come in," he said in a regretful voice. "You probably know I get out in the field now—long night—but you'll find it was what you thought. Caffeine—four thousand milligrams—a heaping teaspoon—in each packet—enough to kill an adult." Raking a hand through his hair, he asked, "Where'd you find these? You know, powdered caffeine is not regulated—as a supplement you can get bottles of the stuff even though this was a-a home-made package. A—a drinking straw, like you said."

"You sure you won't come in?"

"No, no—I need to go—exhausted—you remember how it can be. Tell Sara 'hello'—I hope she's back to work soon."

Grissom closed the door, as perplexed by Hodges as he had been while working in the lab.

An hour later, Sara opened her eyes to find her husband in bed with her. He was reading; she reached and touched his hand. His fingers caught hers, lacing together. The papers disappeared and his arm slid across her shoulder as she shifted toward him.

Her eyes seemed to blaze before they closed to feel his kiss, soft and tentative. He pulled away, concerned about where it might lead.

She made a groan of exasperation but firmly kept her fingers interlaced with his. "I cannot believe this—I feel so much better—you are home! And we can't do it!"

Grissom chuckled, lifting his head above hers as he said, "Progress, dear. It won't be much longer." His fingers played with a lock of her hair; his face softened with desire. "I have always loved you, Sara. Only you—there has never been anyone else."

With those words, he took her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. She responded completely, hungry for the intimacy they had once shared. It did not matter that they could not physically make love, she told herself. He gave her a part of himself by being here and she could work with that—for now.

The rest of the day, they talked about caffeine, a common substance found in coffee, energy drinks, diet pills, and products sold to keep one alert. Sara joked about consuming coffee and caffeine jitters.

"We've got to report this," Grissom said. "You're sure Gracie said the water delivery guy was handing this out?"

"That's what she said—we can call her."

Grissom smiled. "What if I call and invite her to dinner? We have more food in the refrigerator than we'll ever eat. I'll drive over and get her."

Several hours later, after enjoying a dinner of penne pasta, squash, and mushrooms served by Grissom, Sara showed Gracie the lab results.

"It's really caffeine?" Gracie asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "And we broke the case! You and me!" She smiled with such satisfaction that Grissom hated to ask his questions.

"Gracie, are you sure it was the water delivery guy who gave out these packets? Did he ever try to give you any?"

The elderly woman frowned, saying, "Not the one who comes now. When I was there the first time, the delivery guy was always handing out 'free samples' and leaving stuff by the coffee. I tried some of the ones for coffee—it flavored the coffee—I remember hazelnut was one I liked."

"I'm going to give this to a friend of mine, Detective Lou Vartann. He's a nice guy—you'll like him—and he'll want to talk with you." Grissom grimaced, lifting an eyebrow, as he thought for a minute. "I'm not sure what kind of crime—if it is a crime—occurred, but you ladies did figure out what was causing these deaths—I'm sure of it."

Gracie's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Do we get to exhume a body? I've always wanted to go to the graveyard in the middle of the night—with fog and spotlights—like in the television shows—and see a body get dug up!"

Grissom and Sara laughed. "Oh! Gracie! You are so morbid!" Sara said as she laughed.

Shaking his head, Grissom said, "I don't think we'll be digging up any bodies, Gracie."

Later, Grissom filled a generous plate of food for Gracie to take home. Sara added several bouquets of flowers that had been brought to her.

"I'm more of a plant person," she insisted after telling Gracie to select flowers.

While Grissom was gone, driving Gracie back to her house, Sara's phone rang.

"Hello, Nick!" She was delighted to hear from her old friend.

"Sara! How was your first day at home?"

"Good—adjusting to things like not being able to reach the kitchen faucet, but otherwise, I'm so happy to be home."

For a few minutes, they talked about the lab, cases he had worked while she had been away until he asked, "Can I stop by later? I mean, in the morning—I'm heading to work now—but I don't want to come by too early."

"Sure! We'll be up."

Soon after Grissom returned, the two figured out how to give Sara a shower—which ended up being much easier than either thought it would be when Grissom stripped off his clothes and got in the shower with Sara. He wrapped a towel around his waist before drying Sara.

She giggled as he draped a towel around her shoulders. "I see a pickle growing."

"Don't even go there, dear," he warned as he placed her in the wheelchair.

Biting her lip, Sara managed to suppress another giggle, and not for the first time, she decided it was time to take action. With a smoothness and gentleness that continued to surprise her, he moved her from chair to bed.

"Nick is coming by in the morning," Sara said as Grissom placed the wedge pillow on the bed. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Yep—let me put on pajamas."

He heard a giggle as he pulled on pants.

Getting into bed with her, he growled, "Yes, Sara, I want to make love to you—very much. And those giggles I keep hearing are about as sexy as bathing you—but we can't—won't—until we get the 'okay' from your docs."

The sounds of his voice fired a tremor of determination in Sara. With her foot, she pushed the wedge pillow off the bed, sliding her hand along his thigh, and wondered how he had endured the past months without intimacy.

In a reckless flurry of movement, she pushed her hand inside his pants while she touched her lips to the curve of his neck. Nipping gently, her lips followed her fingers as she pushed his shirt away and kissed his chest.

He responded with a groan of pleasure. "Sara," he protested, "we shouldn't. We can't."

Another seductive giggle, "You don't have to do anything. I'm doing this."

Closing her eyes, her senses shifted from sight to smells, the fragrance of the soap he had used in the shower, a faint aroma of laundry softener, and the scent of his skin.

Grissom uttered a husky murmur as she moved lower, her lips seeking sensitive flesh. She pressed the palm of her fractured arm to his chest. "Relax," she whispered.

"That's not possible." The tone of his voice was low, laden with desire.

She eased herself down onto him, slowly with controlled effort, kissing her way down his belly. When she reached the thatch of curls and touched him with her tongue, the hard swell of him filled her with pleasure.

"Sara," he moaned, his hands threading through her hair.

She knew what to do. Her mouth descended in one swift move; her hand squeezed gently around his testicles. She glanced upward to find him watching her. She smiled, played her tongue around the tip of his erection and took him again, slowly, inch by inch, as their eyes remained locked.

Oh, God, he thought as she took him into her mouth; how had he forgotten this act of pleasure. Arousal built and rippled through his body as every cell in him focused on the exquisite sensation of having her pleasure him.

He tried to remain still but his body had trouble responding to his efforts; he hardened even more as she steadily brought him to a pinnacle of pleasure. He arched upward, several times, welcoming a shattering release more powerful than he had expected.

Sara remained in control as his heart hammered; she managed to keep her lips and fingers on his sensitive flesh as she started her way back up his body. With a rumbling laugh, she kissed his chest, drew a circle with her tongue, and kissed him again.

He wrapped arms around her and pulled her to him. He kissed her, then pulled back, releasing slowly. "That—that was unexpected—and beyond description."

"You look very—very happy," she said, causing him to smile even more. "Less worried, I think." She put her head against his shoulder.

He knew the position was uncomfortable for her, but like her, wanted the intimacy of this act to last longer. His finger traced an unseen line from her eye to her chin. "Soon, honey, soon."

She kissed his chin. "I know." She giggled that soft, sexy laugh he had loved for so long. "I've planned this all day." A second kiss to his chin.

Cupping her head with both hands, he held her for a long kiss, and then looked into her eyes. "How about I promise to worship your body for twenty-four hour—anyway you want—as soon as you get an okay from your docs?"

She smiled against his mouth, "That would be perfect."

A/N: Thank you for reading! And a big thank you to those who review! A few more chapters coming...