A/N: Thank you for waiting for another chapter. We appreciate hearing from you-
Out There Part Two
Chapter 11
April 2020
Gil Grissom stood on a very white sand beach looking around at nothing in particular. He looked at the nearest buildings—two resort hotels, closed now, being repainted—and a fork-lift truck moving pallets across a small parking lot. His eyes moved to the distant harbor where two cargo ships were unloading essential supplies. Normal activity, he thought, while a pandemic occurred around the world.
Taking a deep breath of the clear, salty air, he turned and walked back along the beach.
In front of him lay a wide natural bay and an impressive view; Grissom understood why the entire world said this was one of the most beautiful places on earth. The blue water would have appeared artificially enhanced on a postcard yet in person it looked as if all the ingredients for a perfect place had been brought together. Even the small changing curtains, recently placed at the line of vegetation, were bright colors of orange, yellow, and green. Far out in the bay a few fishing boats were out; fishermen already pulling in a catch that would be served for dinner later in the day.
Near the shoreline, he stopped again and watched the row of child-size sail boats, tied together and trailing behind a small dingy powered by a trolling motor. The little wooden boats, in the middle of the bay, looked like baby ducks following the mother duck as the dingy made a slow and easy turn. Each sail boat, no larger than a shallow bath tub, was painted the same bright yellow color with a paprika red number on the side. The sails were the same colors, bright triangles against the turquoise water.
In two of the boats were his children, almost four years old, enjoying their third day of sailing classes. His face broke into a grin as he found Anthony in the last boat; his sister in the one just ahead.
On the beach were others who had brought their kids to enjoy the morning; his wife was stretched on a bright blue sheet pretending to read a book. Overall, the atmosphere was one of a well-planned holiday; a shaved ice shack and two food trucks were in the beach parking lot. Two teenagers were trying to sell homemade paper kites and several women were handing out flyers for cafes.
Not for the first time, he thought about how he and his family had ended up in this paradise; a place protected from the horrific experiences of an infectious disease spreading quickly around the world. There had been several weeks of confusion and chaos as tourists left and airports closed, as usual work disappeared and shipping slowed, as imported food and supplies became scarce.
With incredible planning, New Zealand stepped in, sending planes filled with provisions, foods, medications, and financial aid, and the local people took charge of their future by turning to self-sufficiency. Gardens were planted, food was shared, schools re-opened, markets opened with surprising varieties of local food, plants, clothing, shoes, and slowly, life changed to a new normal.
There had been an exodus of people; many young people left for New Zealand hoping for jobs. The research institute had lost half of the researchers, who chose to return home, but those who stayed managed to continue most of the work. He and Sara had decided to stay—to keep the research going, to assist those who stayed—deciding it was the 'right thing to do' when the institute director needed continued medical treatment—and had ended up in a dome or bubble of protection from a pandemic; they had an ordinary life in a paradise radiating light, health, and strength that did not reflect the dark aura of most of the world.
Walking over to the large blue sheet where Sara sat, he knocked sand from his sandals and dropped next to her, asking, "How's the book?"
She laughed and stuffed her book into a bag. "I've been watching our babies in a boat—and don't pretend you haven't!" She leaned her face against his shoulder; he could feel the warmth of her skin through his thin cotton shirt.
Every day, his love and admiration grew for this woman. She'd taken on lab work at the institute after they hired a local woman to look after the twins for a few hours a day. As more people had lost tourism jobs, they had decided to employ a local cook who delivered two meals to their house every day which meant they had more time to spend together without the constant shopping, preparation, and cooking.
With a movement of his head, he pushed her hat away, kissed her hair, and smiled. They looked like a pair of old hippies with their wild curly hair, mismatched clothes, and well-worn sandals. His arm went around her shoulders.
"Aren't they great—natural little fish—or sailors." He paused. "Is she going to cut them loose?"
As they watched, the woman in the lead dingy made a tight loop and lifted the rope from the last small sail boat. As that boat floated away with one child, she did the same to the next boat, continuing until all seven sail boats were separated. Skillfully, she motored between the small boats, herding them into a gentle breeze, calling directions and encouragement to each young sailor.
As the small children managed the bright triangle sails, the instructor moved her dingy to stir waves so the boats sailed toward the shore.
Grissom watched as his young son, his face serious, deep in concentration, pulled the sail to catch wind. He found his daughter in another boat; her expression was completely different. A wide grin spread across her face as wind propelled her toward the shore in an arrow-straight line.
Much later that evening, Grissom sat on the bed, a book in his hand that he'd not read a word in a while. He had bathed the kids—made sure they had gotten wet and soaped and rinsed in the shower—and read two books to them before tucking them to bed. In minutes, they were asleep.
He stared at a page for a minute before getting out of bed, finding his laptop and turning it on. Most of the time, he did not follow the latest news, letting Sara tell him what she'd read. Tonight, while she worked in the lab, he logged on and searched for the latest developments on this worldwide virus. Reading report after report from Asia, Europe, America, school closures, cruise ships shut down, travel advisories, and a millions deaths around the globe, he finally closed the computer.
While checking on his sleeping children, he heard footsteps on the porch and knew his wife had returned. He filled the kettle with water for tea, knowing Sara would be excited to tell him the results of testing and pass on any news from the researchers. And they would have a little time of adult conversation without the interruption of a dozen questions from their children.
Before he could set the kettle on the stove, Sara was inside, swinging her bag on the table, and in his arms, saying, "Hey, handsome guy!" Her hands were raking through his hair as they kissed. "Everyone's asleep? No problems? Work was great—I think—no, I'm sure—Michael and Claire are in love! It's so sweet to watch them." She laughed before continuing, "Finally, I told them to just be in love and stop trying to hide it from me!" Another kiss. "And—this is so—so funny! She's the same age as I was when we met in San Francisco!"
She took a breath giving Grissom a second to respond. "And how old is Michael? He's older—not that it matters—and, yes, I was wrong to ever leave you in San Francisco—I should have married you then!" He'd wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he buried his head against her shoulder. "I've been reading headlines tonight. Things are not good elsewhere."
She pulled away, taking his head between her hands. "We are fine—and healthy, Gil. In a good place with our kids." For a brief moment, her eyes glistened. "I cannot imagine how difficult it is for—for everyone."
"I'll make tea—do you want something to eat?"
"Shower—then I'll be ready."
As she headed to the bathroom, she turned for a moment, saying, "We got the notice—we are in the running for the jellyfish project!" She held up her hand and crossed her fingers. "A year of funding!"
He made an air high-five wave as she disappeared.
By the time he'd poured hot water into a mug and toasted several slices of the bread from a local bakery, Sara returned wearing a soft, faded tee-shirt and a pair of ratty shorts. She added several jars of fruit spreads to the table.
"I love this stuff," she said as she spread a spoon filled with passion fruit across her toast. As she ate, she talked about the work in the lab, adding more comments about the romance of Michael and Claire. "Kind of makes me happy about where we are." She grinned and wiped her mouth with the edge of her shirt. Her voice changed to a soft purr as she said, "Let's go to bed—I'll put this away."
Grissom stood, smiling, and held out his hand. "I'll rinse the cups."
In a short time, in the shadows of their bedroom, a smile formed with the whispered words of his wife, "Gil! Dear God, Gil!"
Grissom lifted his head to watch Sara as she approached her first shuddering climax. Her body was arched like a bow; her hair fanned against the pillow in a dark cloud. Her hands twisted in the white sheets. He was sprawled on his stomach between her raised thighs. One hand pressed lightly on her flat stomach. The fingers of the other hand were gently stroking her swollen intimate flesh, his thumb flicked the small sensitive nub before he bent his head and kissed it.
He smiled as he heard Sara's hushed, raspy words, "Gil, for the love of all, get inside!" Her hands became fists in his hair and her hips lifted off the bed. She shuddered as ripples of passion raced through her body.
He had felt, heard, and inhaled every nuance of her first climax and he realized everything about her was magnificently passionate, a fuel to the fire burning within him. His body responded and he knew he could not wait another second as he surged along the length of her shuddering body and plunged himself into her before the last tremors had faded.
Into her ear, he whispered, "I don't think I will ever tire of this."
A few minutes later, he felt pulses deep inside Sara and knew another—better—explosive orgasm was building. His own climax was upon him in an instant, a shattering explosion that whirled him away into nothingness.
A long time later Grissom stirred amid the rumpled sheets; as quietly as possible, he left the bed, silently checked on their sleeping children, and returned to bed. He reached for his wife. She sighed in sleep and nestled against him, her back to his chest. They had fallen asleep naked which was rare for them to do and the feel of her warm skin against his brought a quick arousal. He had thought she was asleep until her hand reached for his bringing his hand to the apex of her thighs.
"Honey," he murmured against her neck as he eased himself between her thighs at the same time as he pushed a pillow beneath her hips. Sara's face turned to the side, her cheek pressed against the mattress, a smile lifted her lips as she made a tender moan of approval.
In a few minutes, his measured rhythm of stroking and probing and pleasuring pushed Sara into her third climax of the night. She heard a soft laugh as she clinched around his sex in throbbing contractions until a deep growl came from his throat.
As shallow, exhausted breaths came, he lowered his body over hers, still buried inside her, and kissed her shoulder. She wiggled, enough to slide him off of her and onto his back then she tightly hugged him so she was half across his chest, one leg wrapped around his thighs.
"Dear, Gil—we have had a night of f cking like twenty-somethings," she said with a quiet laugh. Her mouth searched and found his, kissing him as if they had been separated for months.
A low laugh vibrated from his throat. "I am no longer twenty-something—as you know."
Sara cradled his head between her hands, her fingers winding through his white hair. "You've always been the perfect lover—I am well satisfied—content—happy."
He sighed, exhausted; they should put clothes on because chances were high that two small children would crawl into bed with them at daybreak. A moment later, he heard the quiet breaths of his sleeping wife.
For a while, he remained awake, thinking about the world and this island, trying to grasp what was happening. The small group of islands, with less than twenty thousand people, squeezed together beneath the enormous sky gave the place a unique feeling of distance that made one feel free. Another curious quality of the island was the silence. All the background noise of civilization was missing; few cars, no trucks, no trains, no constant background noise of traffic or machinery. What did exist seemed to be gently swallowed up by the endless blue—the sky, the ocean.
Sara stirred, settled, and made a soft breathy snore.
Sara. No matter what their future held, Sara made him happy. She didn't need to say a word; she was with him and would always be there. His eyes closed in sleep.
A/N: Thank you for reading and a special thanks to those who send a comment/message! This story has another chapter or 2 before Sara and Grissom return to Vegas. Again, thank you for reading. Let us hear from you.