AN: Just a bit of a heads up that I am off from work for the next two weeks. I don't have any plans apart from day trips, but I might not be able to stick to the posting schedule as strictly as I have been… I'll try posting twice a week as usual, but it might not be the same days, sorry about that. And now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI

Chapter 31

Grissom had been looking forward to the weekend, especially after the long week. Come Saturday, though, he has to admit he's eager for it to be Monday again, when Shelby will be at daycare, and he can – hopefully – get some alone time with Sara.

He feels a little guilty even thinking it, but it's not like he doesn't spend time with Shelby during the week. It's just that he's hoping to get to spend most of the time she's at daycare with Sara from now on. That's not so bad, is it?

They fit in another make-out session on his couch while Shelby naps in the afternoon, but neither of them suggests taking things further with her asleep upstairs.

Sunday, all three of them go to his mother's house for dinner – somehow, Betty managed to turn the surprise granddaughter into a promise to update their monthly dinners to biweekly ones, and this time, there was no talking her into letting him cook and host. She has done a little to childproof the apartment, moved her most precious and breakable possessions onto higher shelves, but he still keeps a close eye on Shelby to make sure she doesn't get into any trouble. Which is a nice distraction and means he only glances at Sara every five minutes or so.

The fact that she's almost always already looking at him, or glances over while he's watching her, makes a low hum of anticipation settle in his stomach.

He picked them up on his way to his mother, so he drives them back to Catherine's place after dinner is over. Shelby falls asleep in the car, like she usually does in the evenings, and he spends the entire drive trying to come up with a way to ask Sara to come over tomorrow that won't sound like, well, a booty call.

In a way it is, of course, but it's also so much more than that.

She hesitates when he pulls up to the curb, biting her lip, and he wonders if she has the same problem he has.

"Do you have any… plans tomorrow?" she finally asks, and he shakes his head.

"Nothing, no. Do you… want to come over?"

Again, he's reminded of the years of teenage fumbling, of any semblance of smoothness evaporating the moment he opened his mouth – not that he's ever been very smooth when it comes to women, especially not Sara – but she smiles, so he must be doing something right.

"I'll be there after I've taken Shelby to daycare," she replies.

"Good, good." He hesitates, checks the backseat to make sure Shelby's still asleep, and then leans over the center console.

She meets him halfway, lips parting immediately and one hand closing around the front of his shirt.

He tries to keep the kiss brief, he really does, but, well… he's only human. In the end, it's Sara who pulls back, a reluctant look on her face. "I should get her inside and into bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Can't wait."

Sara hesitates at Grissom's door, old insecurities peeking their heads out. She shakes them off – he was the one to suggest she come over, after all. Very adorably, she has to admit.

Before her doubts can rally and come up with some good reason she should turn around and get back in the car, she reaches out and knocks on the door. It's only a second before it opens, and she has to smile – he must have been waiting just inside, maybe pacing the hallway.

"Hi," he says, sounding almost… shy. Nervous.

Suddenly, it's easy. "Hi," she replies, stepping inside and closing the door before leaning in to kiss him.

As if that was all he needed, he takes control of the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other sliding around to her back to pull her closer. She pushes everything else out of her mind and lets herself get lost in him, focusing on his body against hers, the shift of muscle under her fingers.

Grissom's the first to pull away, breaths heavy and eyes dark when she meets them.

"How about we move this upstairs?" she suggests, biting back a smile at his widening eyes. "What? Was that not the plan?"

"I, uh… didn't want to assume," he says sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, I did."

She slides one hand down his arm until she can interlace their fingers and tugs him along towards the stairs. He trails behind her, close enough she can feel the heat radiating off him, causing her heart rate to pick up.

When they reach the bedroom, his hand leaves hers and one arm wraps around her waist, pulling her back against him.

"I've missed you," he mumbles into her hair before pushing it out of the way to find her throat with his mouth.

Sara tilts her head to the side to give him better access. "Mmm, me too."

He hums against her skin, sending shivers all up and down her body, and moves up her throat, finding a spot behind her ear that makes her gasp. His hand flexes against her side at the sound, then slides under the hem of her top to caress her skin.

Wanting to be a more active participant, she turns in the circle of his arms and his mouth finds hers instead, soft at first but soon more demanding.

Not that she minds.

She takes advantage of the new position to start working on the buttons in his shirt, and even though her fingers are trembling slightly, she soon has all of them undone and impatiently pushes the garment off his shoulders.

Grissom chuckles as he lets the shirt fall to the floor. "No rush," he tells her, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I want to take my time."

His words send heat coursing through her, and she reaches for him again at the same time as he leans in. Sliding her hands up his chest, she wraps her arms around his neck, while his go around to the small of her back. He pushes her top up enough to find skin, humming into her mouth when it makes her press closer.

For a long moment, it's enough, the slow but deep kisses, his hands holding her close, but soon, she wants more. And judging by the evidence, she's pretty sure he's on the same page.

Without breaking the kiss, Sara finds the hem of her top and pulls it further up, before pausing, because she can't actually get it all the way off without pulling away, and she doesn't really want to do that.

He makes the decision for her, though, stepping back just enough to get the top over her head before trailing kisses down her throat to her shoulder. She feels one hand at the clasp of her bra and then it's unhooked, falling to the floor.

"Smooth," she teases, and he bites the tender skin where her shoulder meets her throat gently.

"Behave."

"And if I…" she trails off, eyes sliding shut as one warm hand covers her breast.

"You're not the only one who can tease."

She wants to ask what that's supposed to mean, but his mouth reclaims hers, and, well, she can't help it if all thought flies out of her head at that.

She doesn't even notice Grissom navigating them through the room until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she would have fallen back onto it if his arm hadn't been wrapped around her, keeping her upright.

He steps back a little and she's about to object, but then he reaches for the drawstring in her pants and undoes the knot. Her mind catching up, she makes quick work of the button in his pants while he pushes hers down her thighs. They pool at her feet, and she steps out of them.

He pushes her back gently, and she sits down at the foot of the bed before scooting backwards. He gets rid of his own pants before kneeling on the bed and following her until he's hovering above her.

Even if Sara wasn't already almost naked, she would definitely feel like she was under his piercing gaze. He's holding himself up on one elbow and raises the other hand to brush some hair away from her face, lingering. She leans into the touch, watching him watch her for a moment before pulling him down to her.

The kiss is hungry, and after a moment, the hand against her face trails down her throat, chest, finding her breast and making her arch against him. He lingers for a moment, fingers playing against her skin, but moves on much too soon, continuing down her stomach and leg. When he reaches her knee, he returns the way he came, only tracing the inside of her thigh this time, and she can't help the way her hips buck up when his fingers graze the apex between her thighs.

Grissom breaks away a little, watching her intently as he hesitates, one finger toying with her underwear. She pushes against his hand, silently begging him to ease some of the tension, and after another moment, he slides his hand under the soft material, one finger finding her wetness.

She sucks in a shaky breath, eyes closing of their own accord, and feels his mouth against her throat again. She slides one hand into his hair, holding him to her, the other grasping at the bedspread as he pushes one finger inside her.

It's almost intoxicating, the combination of his mouth trailing over her skin – down her throat and shoulders, across her chest and stomach, lingering first at one breast and then the other, drawing moans from her – and one finger, then two working inside her.

When his thumb brushes against her clit, her fingers tighten in his hair and a moment later, his mouth finds hers again. He kisses her hard, demanding, his thumb just as insistent, and it's not long before she falls apart with a moan that he swallows.

When she comes back down, he's once again hovering above her, watching her, a soft smile on his face.

"What?" she asks, still a little out of breath.

"Nothing," he replies, leaning down for a kiss but pulling away before she can tug him down on top of her. Instead, he moves down the bed, sliding her underwear down her legs.

When he's removed them, he pauses, eyes dancing over her skin.

It's been years since Sara felt self-conscious when it comes to her body, not since those awful high-school years when boys would barely look her way and girls would snigger behind her back at her skinny legs and flat chest.

Some of that comes back now, though. She knows her body has changed. It carried a child for nine months, of course it's changed. Is he cataloging the differences? She knows her breasts aren't as firm anymore, and she has stretchmarks marring her stomach.

As if he can read her mind, he leans down, placing featherlight kisses against the marks, making her shiver.

"Get up here," she tells him when he pulls away again, and he chuckles.

"I told you – patience." But he does get rid of his boxers and moves up the bed until they're stretched out next to each other.

"I think I've been very patient," she argues, rolling onto her side to get closer.

"Mmm, perhaps."

He closes the little distance between them, hand sliding into her hair as their lips meet, and for a moment, that's all the contact there is between them. Then he groans, pushing closer, and she throws her leg across his hip to pull him flush against her.

"Wait, wait," Grissom gasps out, making her freeze.

"What?"

He doesn't respond, just rolls onto his back to reach for something on the bedside table. When he moves back, he has a condom wrapper in his hand, and she lets out a breath.

"I thought you didn't want to assume?" she says with a smirk.

"I also didn't want to be unprepared," he replies. "In case…"

She snaps the foil packet out of his hand and tears it open, moving back enough to be able to roll the condom on. He sucks in a breath, eyes squeezing closed, at her touch, and she might linger just a little longer than absolutely necessary.

But then he pulls her leg back to hook around his hip and slides into her, making them both moan.

He pauses when he's fully inside her, lifting his hand to caress her cheek, a strangely sweet gesture considering they're both completely naked and intimately connected.

Sara's the first to move, inching forward to kiss him, and that seems to snap him out of whatever reverie he was just in. His hand slides down her side, fingers digging into the skin on her hip slightly, and he starts moving.

It starts out unhurriedly, their mouths moving together almost lazily, his thrusts deep and slow for an infinite moment. Then he shifts, gently nudging her onto her back, which changes the angle and makes him hit that sweet spot deep inside her, and Sara has to pull away to get some oxygen.

He peppers her skin with open-mouthed kisses, down her throat, shoulder, and chest, where he sucks her nipple into his mouth, tongue teasing the bud. She arches against him, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace a little, and soon, they're chasing release together.

Her second orgasm still catches her off guard, making her cry out at the overwhelming pleasure crashing over her again and again. She's vaguely aware of his movements becoming sloppier, and then he stills inside her, burying his face and a groan against her throat.

They stay like that for a long moment, then Grissom kisses her before pulling back and rolling out of bed. He disappears into the adjoining bathroom, and she hears water start running.

It's not long before he appears in the doorway again, but it's long enough for doubt to settle in the pit of her stomach. The smile he gives her does some to ease it, but it doesn't disappear completely.

He crosses to the dresser against the wall and finds a new pair of boxers. "You want a t-shirt or something to sleep in?" he asks, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Sure, thanks." She accepts the maroon LVPD t-shirt he holds out and, after locating her underwear at the foot of the bed, slips into the bathroom herself.

Her hair looks like she's just been out in a hurricane, so she runs her fingers through it to try to get it into some semblance of order. There's a toothbrush in plastic wrapping on the shelf above the sink, so she brushes her teeth as well before pulling on her underwear again. The t-shirt is big on her, sliding down her shoulder and exposing a reddening mark on the curve of her right breast that she'll luckily be able to hide under her clothes.

Seeing it gives her some sort of primal satisfaction that she doesn't want to examine too closely.

When she opens the door again, Grissom has removed the bedspread and gotten under the covers. She still hesitates for a moment, but then he lifts the covers in an invitation, and she crawls into bed, settling with her head against his chest.

"If you're gone when I wake up, we're going to have a problem," she informs him, keeping her voice light, but his arm tightening around her and the kiss he brushes against the top of her head tells her that he hears the underlying insecurity.

"I promise that will never happen again."