Chapter Thirty Nine:

Grissom sat at his desk in his office, surrounded by files and paperwork praying for a distraction from his workload, lifts his head in time for Sara to float pass the doorway, shadowed in the dark hallway, her freckled skin on show.

'Sara?' She steps backwards a few steps, falling forward into the doorway, arm raised and resting on the door frame.

'Yeah?'

'You ok?'

'Yeah, I'm just grabbing a drink, want one?' She runs a hand through her hair, from forehead to the nape of her neck.

'Come here?' She smiles and pushes off the door frame, walking over towards his desk. He pushes his chair back and spins around to face her. She comes to stop in front of him, stood in between his open legs. He raises a hand from the arm of his chair and brushes the outside of her wrist. 'Whatcha drinking?' She looks up, thinking, hands on hips.

'A beer if we have any?' She looks down at him in his throne.

'Bottom shelf.' He reaches for her, pulling her even closer. Rubbing the skin across her stomach, swirling a finger around her belly button. 'Question?' She hums in response. 'The underwear?' She laughs.

'I'm sorting through my clothes. A lot of my stuff doesn't fit anymore.'

'How come?' He links his fingers in hers.

'Your cooking Gilbert. You've lost weight and I'm gaining it all because of your impressive kitchen skills.' She sinks down onto his knee, sucking in her stomach.

'Sorry. I'll take you shopping.' Rubbing circles on the small of her back.

Shaking her head. 'I don't want clothes. Just maybe lay off the desserts for a while, ok?' She rubs her hands over the top of his shoulders and squeezes reassuringly.

'Noted…' Looking up at her for a beat. 'Can I ask a favour?' She shifts on his knee a little, nervous.

'Yesss?' Dragging out the word, unsure of what his request may be.

'Shave me?'

'Shave you? As in this?' She pulls lightly on his long beard. 'But I like it.' She pouts. Pulling her hand down from his face, he chuckles.

'Me too, but it's getting itchy and I'm leaving a few too many marks.' He brushes a thumb over a pink patch just below her collar bone. She nods and watches as his eyes focus in on her skin.

'When?' She brushes his hair back, her other hand resting on his chest.

'Now?' Smiling wide, she jumps up and spins around to face him.

'Meet me in the bathroom in 10 minutes.' She bounds out of the room, just as she is out of sight she shouts. 'Bring the beer!' Rolling his chair back to his desk, he closes his laptop and recaps his fountain pen. Pushing away from the dark wood top, he heads out of the room, switching off the light and closing the door. Walking towards the kitchen he reaches down into the bottom cupboard and pulls out a treat for Hank.

'Come on boy.' He walks over to Hank's bed dropping the treat on the plush cushion, Hank follows, plopping down on the bed taking the treat between his paws, beginning to gnarw on it slowly. Opening the fridge and reaching down to the bottom shelf he pulls two cold beers and uncaps them, ensuring the lights are switched off he makes towards their bedroom. Heading towards the bathroom he takes her in, laying out all the tools out on the vanity. She has changed into a short black robe; one she usually wears when completing her after bath ritual of moisturising her long legs. He walks in slowly, clearing his throat to get her attention and to not startle her. She turns slowly, as he raises the bottles to her eyeline. She stalks over towards him, pulling a bottle from his sure grasp, leaning forward, grazing her lips over his.

'Where do you want me?' He swigs from the bottle, once, twice. Dropping it down to his side, watching her watching him. She points to a spot infront of the tub with her hand whilst raising her bottle to her lips. He plants his beer on the vanity behind her, and takes a few careful steps backwards. She half turns, placing her bottle next to his, dragging a small towel from the counter in her right hand and picking up the soap dish with beard brush sat inside, she steps forward and flips the towel over his shoulder.

'Tilt your head back…. Please.' He smiles at her, dropping his head back to give her the best view and angle. Swirling the brush across his face, she makes sure to evenly coat him in the frothy mixture. His hands swing forward to brush up her bare thighs, brushing the warm skin under his fingertips. Resting his hands just below her hip bones, his thumbs entertaining the band of her underwear, pushed under her short robe. Happy with her handy work, she pulls back, turns and dumps the rest of the foam into the sink and washes her hands. She looks up at him eyes connecting through the mirror. Drying her hands on a towel she picks up the razor. 'Do you trust me?' She turns to face him.

'Intimately.' She smiles and raises a hand to the side of his face, the other bringing the razor up to his cheek. One small stroke downwards, and part of his face is clean. No blood, no screaming. She continues, wiping the blade on the towel over his shoulder after every swipe. The left side of his face complete, she runs a hand down her handy work. He leans forward and drops a kiss to her nose whilst she steps to the right, bringing her hand back up to pull the skin taut ready to tackle the other side of his face. He leaves the smallest trace of beard soap on her nose; she just laughs and continues. 15 minutes later and Grissom is stood looking at his reflection in the mirror, Sara is washing the blade carefully, drying it and putting it away in the leather case. Turning side on, she crosses her arms over chest and surveys his face. 'I think I did pretty good.' She uses her hand to grab his chin, moving his face under the light, this way and that to get a better look.

'You did. Thank you.' He picks up his beer, passing her hers. She takes a big swig and walks into the bedroom, placing the bottle on the dresser she drops her robe on the end of the bed. Grissom follows her in, walking over to the bed, he takes a seat at the head, leaning back on the headboard, beer bottle still in hand. He raises the bottle to his lips, but before taking a mouthful, lowers it ever so slightly. Sara turning from her position in the wardrobe, catches his smile.

'What?' He merely shakes his head and continues with his drink.

'I'm just happy to be home.'