A/N: Thanks again for reading and for the wonderful reviews. This story is such a joy for me to write and I'm glad everyone else is enjoying it as well.

Part 5: Sound and Color

Chapter 15

Wednesday, March 13th, 2002

She sent two different texts to both her parents. They were to meet with her and Grissom not too far from Grissom's warehouse. Off Atlantic Boulevard, between the 710-overpass known as Long Beach Freeway, was an opening between the train tracks that ran alongside the Los Angeles River. The dirt path ran parallel under the power lines that stretched high above the river. It was the access road for the Department of Water and Power.

It led back to the area between the concrete river, train tracks, and the freeway. Aside from DWP trucks and service workers, the only people around were the homeless. She saw an encampment on the slanted concrete wall on the other side of the river. The blue tarp that covered the makeshift home was flapping in the Santa Ana winds that were coming in down from the mountains. The Santa Ana winds were also called by another name, the devil winds due to the extremely strong and dry air that moves in from the inland desert to the east.

The smallest of sparks caused by a cigarette tossed from a car, a campfire, or even equipment use, or lightning could ignite a wildfire and they often did. Last month a wildfire spread down near San Diego destroying 43 buildings. So far this year, Los Angeles had been spared but she knew, just as every resident who lived there, that it was only a matter of time before the hills went up in flames. They just didn't know when or where or for how long.

In front of them, on the other side of the river, were manufacturing buildings and distribution centers. Gas holders, storage tanks for natural gas, along with a water tower, stood high over the buildings. Grissom sat on the hood of the car as she leaned against the passenger door. He didn't want to go too far from his base of operations but he also didn't want anyone to know about it, not even Annie. His only answer when she asked why that was, he said, 'Safety.'

She understood the precautions he took, seeing how he's been doing undercover work for the last two decades and had yet to be discovered. Respecting his privacy, and need for safety, they chose this location for a private meeting. She heard the rushing of cars on the freeway and the static pulsing of the electrical lines over their heads.

In the distance, coming down the path were two cars. She told them to meet her there at exactly twelve o'clock. The first car to come to a stop was a tan Capri. In the driver seat was her mom, Annie. A navy Ford Taurus slowed beside the Capri. She saw two men in the front seats. Her dad, Jim, and her partner, Warrick. Car doors opened and closed as worried, surprised, and angry eyes all darted around at one another. Jim was worried. Warrick, surprised. And Annie was angry.

Annie was the first to speak, "What the hell is this? Why are they here?"

"What? This isn't a family reunion?" Brass quipped as he removed his sunglasses and hooked them to the breast pocket of his suit.

Warrick didn't wear a typical suit. He wore nice pants and a button down that was always open at the neck. He kept a sports coat in the trunk of his car, along with an LAPD windbreaker, for special occasions. Today wasn't a special occasion. His eyes were covered by the sunglasses, and she could tell by his tense demeanor that he was sizing up Grissom, who didn't move off the hood of the car.

All Grissom did once everyone arrived was turn his head away from the scenery so he could see all their faces. He also kept his eyeglasses on.

Sara dropped her arms that'd been crossed over her chest. She reached through the open passenger window of the Mercedes and removed three files. They made copies of everything to make it easier. "You're all here because there's been a development," she said as she handed a file folder to everyone.

Annie took the file and said, "Is this your show now?"

"I was told that this is a joint operation. The detectives that are working on this case are in the know. They know about me, and him." She gestured to Warrick and Jim, "They're working on the "Flower Girl" case. Two hours ago, we found a link between that case and the prostitution ring."

Warrick flipped open the file and immediately recognized the girl as he said, "The Girl with the Flower Earrings. Jane Doe 14." The number after 'Jane Doe' meant that she was the fourteenth Jane Doe found in Los Angeles County since the start of the new year. "What's this case you're working on? I thought you were on leave?" he asked. Sara had told Warrick that she was going to be undercover, but he had to keep that to himself.

"Yeah," Brass said, "and what's he doing here?" He gestured with a nod towards Grissom.

She looked at Annie. Her mom was the one running the operation, so it was her call. Not that she'd given her any other options since Grissom was there. He could've stayed hidden at the warehouse and waited for her to return. It had been his choice to come and expose himself to everyone. Grissom finally slid off the hood of the car as he walked over to stand between her and Annie. With all of them there, they'd formed a circle under the bright midday sun.

Grissom raised a brow at Annie, waiting for her to say something.

The annoyance was permanently etched on her mom's face, but she was no longer angry. Annie knew she had no other choice because she was right. This was a joint operation, and everyone involved needed to be on the same page. She sighed heavily before saying, "Sara's working undercover on a joint operation with Narcotics and Vice to take down a high-end prostitution ring among several elite members of our community. Homicide got involved due to a couple of the women being murdered. All beaten and strangled and discarded. Our last victim was a woman, Sasha Reynolds, who went by the street name Dakota. She was found dumped in a lake."

"The MacArthur Park homicide?" Brass asked.

"Yeah. We're coming from all sides on this. Vice has a detective, Steels, working her way around, trying to find out all she can from the working girls and possibly get an invite to join in. Sara, of course, is working the murder angle. Her role is infiltrating the very selective and secretive world of the ultra-rich and famous. We're trying to get a line on who the killer might be."

Warrick was looking at Grissom when he said, "I guess that makes you the Narc?"

Grissom's mouth twitched up into a half-smirk.

Annie said, "Grissom is a deep undercover civilian agent working for the PD. Has been for the past twenty years, but you're right, Detective, he's working with Narcotics."

Brass's eyes shot up and Sara realized that he hadn't even known. He wasn't just one of the Captains of the Homicide Division out of Parker Center but Annie's husband. "And you knew this whole time?" he asked Annie.

She nodded. "He was my C.I. first. After…" she trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid, but Jim knew.

"After what went down with Sara," he finished.

Sara felt her body tense as the tension between Jim and Annie increased. She wanted to say something, try to ease it down and make everything okay again. That wasn't her job; she knew from experience not to interfere. Her parents knew each other, they were married, and this was a momentary hiccup interrupting their lives. It wasn't the first and she knew it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Warrick interrupted the staring contest between Jim and Annie as he asked, "Where does she fit in?" Regarding Jane Doe 14.

Sara was the one who spoke, saying, "Grissom's been conducting surveillance on all the suspected members of a certain…exclusive club called Aether located on the Preston Manor up in the hills above Malibu. Jane Doe was in the company of four of the suspects, Todd Piccone, a Assistant City Attorney. Ethan Melbourne—"

"City Councilman," Warrick said with a nod.

Sara finished, saying, "Along with Judge Silvio Peters, former Governor Brian Newhart, and 'The Eagle' himself, actor Vic Patterson. These guys have been seen together on many separate occasions. At country clubs, parties, and having dinner and drinks at Musso's. That picture was taken when they decided to have a private party that included eight underage individuals who we believe are all associated with the prostitution ring."

"So, it's not just grown women who're catering the appetites of these men, but children as well," Warrick said in disgust as he shook his head. "This is going cause ripples—"

"It's going to cause a lot more than that," Annie said. "Our main objectives are to shut down the ring, and arrest the killer—"

"Killers," Brass said as he finally found his voice again. He eyed Grissom, saying, "Whoever's murdering the women, he's not killing the girls. We have two separate killers targeting the same pool but for different reasons. One guy gets off on beating and strangling prostitutes; death might be accidental. The other killer, there's no question about his motive."

Sara felt a tap on her arm. Grissom was handing her a note. She read it and said, "Abigail Abernathey, the "Flower" girl mentioned in the journal. Has she been found?"

Brass answered, "Not yet. We don't have much to go on. She was only a child when she was taken, no prints or DNA."

Sara took another note from Grissom and read, "Facial age progression. I know a Forensic anthropologist who uses computer software to age children into what they could possibly look like now. I'll need a photograph of Abigail and her mother."

There was still a hint of distrust in Brass's eyes as he said, "How'd you want me to get it to you?" before glancing her way.

Her dad was probably wondering about their roles in the undercover operation. Whatever he was thinking was causing him to not like Grissom. Sara told him, "You can give it to me, or he can give you his email."

Brass's eyes were going back and forth between them and he finally asked, "So, what is this between you two? You're working together? How close—"

"I don't think that's any of your business," she said, cutting him off. "We currently partnered together on this. Given the nature of the assignment, we have to get comfortable with one another. We have to trust each other. Come Saturday night, we're invited to a banquet party in the Palisades. The Obsidian Club."

Warrick said, "Damn. That's nice. That place sits right on the edge of a cliff along the Pacific Coast Highway. I heard they charge a hundred bucks a steak."

"Yeah, well, it's our chance to get a possible invite to Aether through a couple members. I already told you about them," she said as she looked right at Brass. "Wayne Gleason and Audrey Michaels. Those pictures Grissom took of them at the hotel out in Pasadena were for this investigation. Proof that they're together. We befriend them, we have a shot at Preston Manor."

"All right," Brass said. "What are we to do?" he asked as he gestured to himself and Warrick. "Play footsie with a Judge and Councilman under the table?"

Grissom laughed. It made everyone turn his way at the sudden intrusive noise. He signed /Sorry/ as he pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

Warrick smiled as he huffed out a laugh. "I'm glad someone around here has a sense of humor."

"Watch it," Brass told Warrick.

Annie cut in by saying, "You two go back to doing what it was you were doing before Sara called you. Work the Jane Doe case, the Flower girl, anyway you can. Just keep me informed along the way so our side doesn't get interfered with. Keep it quiet. The last thing we need is for someone to catch wind that this is connected. Right now, we play it like it's not."

Warrick nodded. "First thing I learned once I got here was how much this place was like Chinatown. Everyone around here, even in the department, is hush-hush. Are you fearing the Chief's wrath, Captain?" he asked Annie.

"I'll inform him," Annie said. "And this place isn't like Chinatown; it is Chinatown. That's why we all need to tread lightly. We step on the wrong toes, say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and it's our jobs."

Sara had a question that had yet to be answered, she asked, "Has Hodges identified that dirt yet?"

Warrick nodded. "It's not dirt. Hodges says it's something called obsidian."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Grissom start writing on his notepad.

"It's volcanic rock and is made when lava cools quickly."

She felt a tap, saw the note, and took it. "Obsidian can be found in the Warner Mountains, the Coso Volcanic Fields, and the Casa Diablo, but the only place in California close to L.A. is the Salton Sea. It's called the Obsidian butte."

She heard a blow horn in the distance. Masked by the rushing traffic on the freeway, was the chugging of a freight train. She spotted the engine car, the locomotive, as the light in front rounded the bend. She heard the horn again as smoke puffed out of the smokestack. The train rushed by them, separating them from the river.

Annie glanced around at everyone and said, "I guess that's our cue to leave."

Before everyone left, Sara asked, "Can we get the file on Jane Doe?"

Brass nodded, saying, "I'll get it right to you. Check your email. It'll be in there along with the pictures of the Abernathey's."

"Thanks," she said.

Brass gave Grissom one last look that threatened a shovel and a deep hole in the ground if he did anything to her before walking back to his car.

Once everyone was gone, she turned to Grissom and said, "I think that went well."

He just smirked. She was certain if he could speak it would've been a sarcastic, "Yeah." He opened the passenger door for her to get in. Getting into the driver's seat, he started the engine and turned on the radio for the first time since she got into his car that day. He hit a button on the MP3 players before a song started playing called "Last Saturday".

As it played out while he drove the car back along the Los Angeles River, she felt as if they were finally getting somewhere, closer to finding out who the girl was and why she'd been killed and who had killed her. It ignited the anticipation that always filled her during a case when she got a lead. With adrenaline in her veins, she didn't want to stop now.

Obsidian butte. The Salton Sea.

Before she could tap Grissom's arm to get his attention, he turned right onto Atlantic Boulevard instead of left. Glancing at her, making eyeing contact, she asked, "Salton Sea?"

That smirk was back. He nodded.

The Salton Sea was located about two and a half hours away in the valley between the San Rosa mountains and Joshua Tree National Park in what was called the Imperial Valley. It was out in the middle of the desert landscape. Further south was Calexico which was right on the border of Mexico. Mexicali.

The once tourist attraction was now something out of an apocalyptic sci-fi movie as dead carcasses of fish and birds littered the shore as huge dome rocks stuck jaggedly out of the ground. As bees buzzed around and a snake slithered by, she saw a solitary bird perched on the tip of a dead tree branch that rose out of the salt water. Clouds settled in from the mountain range, casting the entire sky in an ominous shade of grey. It was a graveyard for any wildlife or human that dared to dip a single toe or claw into the water. The salt level in the lake was so high that it could no longer sustain life. Nothing could live in it anymore and nothing did.

The obsidian rocks ranged in color from chalky white to dusty grey to shiny black. Those who chose to find themselves on the shoreline were free to take obsidian samples for themselves. When she tried to lift a rock, it didn't move. It was too heavy and not nearly dense enough to get samples. She contributed the salinity of the environment that kept it from breaking down over the thousands of years that it existed there after it'd been formed out of the volcanic activity beneath the tectonic plates.

It had to have been BC, around 8,000 to 6,000 BC, the rock she touched had been formed. To touch something that she knew had been around for since before man even existed caused a wave of emotion to course her body. At first, she felt like a time traveler. Going back in time to be able to touch such a thing that seemed to have been frozen in time.

Exhilaration gave way to a sadness that brought tears to her eyes. Just a blip, she thought. There was chalky dust on her boots, her hands, but how the rocks got into the bag that contained the dead body of Jane Doe, she had no idea. She couldn't see the killer being out here in the middle of nowhere.

Grissom stood several feet away from her. Out of the trunk of his car, he'd removed a Nikon camera. She watched as he knelt down, brought the camera up to eye level, and snapped a picture of the bird on the branch. He took several more of the rocks, the lake, and the scenery before they left.

In the car, he replayed the same album that'd started their journey out to the Salton Sea. By the time they were heading back to Los Angeles, the sun was setting over the mountain range to their left. As she listened to the instrumental song "Carresses", her mind was still racing, trying to fit it all together but she didn't have all the pieces. This was a piece, now she had to find the other pieces it fit into to see the bigger picture.

Grissom's hand touched hers. She felt his fingers spreading hers apart as he took her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. Rolling her head over to look at him, she saw that even though his blue eyes were focused on the road in front of them there was a certain look in them that she knew all too well. She could read him, without him speaking, she knew what he was thinking.

He was reassuring her that they were in this together. They would figure this out. They would catch this killer. She believed him. She told him by squeezing his hand back and not letting go. He didn't seem to mind it and she found that she enjoyed the feel of his warm hand on top of hers. It stirred a need so deep inside that she hadn't even known that it existed.

A need to truly love the man she was with.

Saturday, March 13th, 1982

We'd found several possibilities. Repeated names, or variations of names that could point to the man who'd taken Sara. Mike Samuels, Michael Sams, Adam Wilson, and Harvey Booker. Mike and Michael could be the same person using a variation of his name. He was found at two of the motels. Adam Wilson, three. Harvey Booker had been at all of them. Including the La Vista Motel, having booked a room three days prior to Sara's disappearance. He checked out the morning of Sunday, March 7th.

Catherine got on the phone with Sam Bruan out in Las Vegas. As she paced the kitchen floor, going as far as the cord could take her before walking over to the table to sit down, I sat in a chair and watched the television that was on in the living room. It was showing the live reports of the nightly news. An on-going hearing regarding the North Hollywood shoot out in January where both police and civilians had been shot. And a fourth candidate entered the Governor's race, Republican Brian Newhart. And Luis Marin was suspected of arson, having started the Stouffer's Inn fire, after a witness came forward. Basketball highlights then played on the screen.

There was no update about the murdered woman or missing child from the La Vista Motel. I felt a tap on my hand. Catherine caught my eyes and told me, "He says don't forget that he has a gun with your prints on it. He doesn't owe you a thing." She covered the mouthpiece of the phone to ask, "What happened?"

I didn't know Sam Braun very well, but what I did know was that to be a successful businessman, he had to be a man of his word. I really didn't think that he would back out of our deal. I told him that the only thing I wanted for ownership of my business was information. The only thing I could think of for the threat was that it was a test, or he had to make a show of being the one in control. He thought he held all the cards, or that maybe I'd fold mine. He was challenging me.

Most people in this situation would probably panic. Fear of a gun with their prints on it, a gun they used to kill two people, in the possession of a man like Braun. People feared the Man in Charge. They freaked out and panicked. I didn't freak out. I didn't panic. I took a breath as I gave it some thought. And I've already thought about all that before I handed that gun back over to Sam in the desert.

On my notepad I wrote, 'Tell him, it's his gun. His prints are also on it. If he wiped his prints off, he also wiped mine. It's clean. Now, I want all the cars registered to those names by this time on Monday, along with home addresses.'

It was ten o'clock Saturday evening. He had two days.

Catherine spoke my words into the phone. After a moment, she said, "Yeah. Okay, thanks." She stood to hang up the phone on the wall. Turning to me, she said, "I think that's the first time anyone's gotten the best of my father. What's this about a gun?"

I just smiled as I gave her a wink. It didn't matter, not anymore. Hopefully by Monday night we'd have a lead on a suspect. We were getting closer; I could feel it in the air. In the meantime, I asked, 'Do you have the White Pages?'

She went in search of the book as I picked up the forgotten glass of water on the table and took a sip. The White Pages was slapped down on the kitchen table. "I've called off work. Figured you could use the help. I'll put the coffee on."

We were going to search through the phone book for the names, addresses, and do our own search. I couldn't sit still, I couldn't wait. I had to find her and it felt that as more time passed the further away that she was getting, as if her very life was slipping through my hands. I had to reach back out as quickly as I could to catch her.

I didn't want to lose her. I wasn't supposed to. I had to hang on. One day I would know why. One day, I knew, all this would make sense to me. Right then, all I had was that gnawing feeling that she was important. She was a friend. And I had to make this right.

Wednesday, March 13th, 2002

Grissom didn't take her home once they left the warehouse after nine o'clock that evening. Joni was resting in the backseat. The dog had enjoyed herself running around the warehouse and it the open lot behind it. The night sky enveloped the sky as lights lit up Hollywood boulevard and the inside of his car. A purple filled the interior as music played from the speakers and speaking to them both through the lights and vibrations in the seats. She'd called in a to-go order from a local Chinese restaurant that he'd picked up roughly five minutes ago. If he was planning on heading back to his house, or hers, he had a long drive ahead of him.

As he drove, the city lights moved up the windshield as the blue and purple lights changed in time with the music. His hand gripped hers tightly before resting it on his right thigh like it belonged there. She felt that it did as she caressed his thigh. He must have been feeling the same need she'd felt when they left the lake.

~"A new world hangs

Outside the window…"~

He eased the car expertly around a narrow road that twisted up past Spanish style homes that stood beside mid-century modern architecture until they arrived at the foot of the hills where a row of garages met a gate and the base of the high tower. Grissom grabbed a garage door opener out of the glove box and hit the button, opening a garage. He parked and they walked out into the cool nightly breeze as the garage doors closed behind them.

~"Beautiful and strange…"~

She knew about the High Tower Apartments. In the novel The High Tower by Raymond Chandler, he wrote of the High Tower Apartments. She's actually been out here before as she wanted to walk the scenic stairway walking paths through the neighborhood and hills. It'd been one of the most beautiful hikes she's ever taken in the city. On the other side of the hill was the Hollywood Bowl.

~"It must be falling away

I must be…"~

Grissom headed to the gate that opened to the elevator. We took it up all the way to the top. Around a stone pathway, down a flight of steps, and on a hill that was surrounded by palms and green plants and foliage, he unlocked a door to an apartment. She let Joni off the leash as she studied the apartment that wasn't his house in Hawthorne. The half-moon living room was simple. A rounded couch was against the wall, giving the picture-perfect scenic view of the night sky out the wall of windows across from it. Below the windows were shelves that ran along the floor. They were packed with books. An Eames chair was beside the windows. She could image Grissom sitting there, reading. An oval coffee table sat on a nice oriental rug on top of the bare hardwood floors. There were several paintings on the walls. She was certain he'd done those himself. They were bright and colorful abstracts that were pleasing to the eye.

~"Sound and color

With me for my mind…"~

She followed him into the small 'U' shaped kitchen where he opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. There was no eat-in kitchen table and wondered where they were going to sit. It didn't look like he ate in the living room. He turned on the outside lights and unlocked the side door off the nook. There was only a credenza with a built in radio with a display panel. The speakers weren't facing out, but were placed facing the wall and she noticed the bottom base of the speakers were also speakers themselves that rest against the floorboards. It looked custom made.

~"And it should show you where to go

When I need to speak…"~

On the balcony, under the soft glow of orange lights, was a round table with four chairs. It was quiet and peaceful. The only sounds she heard was the soft hum of the lights and the faint sounds of the cars down on the boulevard. Around the balcony were trees and foliage offering privacy but further along the terrace it opened up to a breathtaking view of the hills, the night sky, and the city of Hollywood below the hill the apartment was perched upon. There, surrounded by all that beauty, and in the comfortably safe silence of her companion, was where she ate her dinner.

~"Now, far down

Now, far down

Now, far now

Far, far now

Far, far, far, far, far

Far, far, far, far out…"~

He cleaned up the empty containers as she stood on the terrace, leaned on the railing, and enjoyed the view, the breeze, and the stillness of the quiet night. This was a dream. Thousands of people from all over the world flocked to Los Angeles, to Hollywood, for this very moment. She knew this apartment. She's seen it in a movie. The Long Goodbye. This was Philip Marlow's apartment. Grissom lived in the apartment of the greatest private detective of literary fiction, aside from Sherlock Holmes.

~"Sound and color

With me in my mind…"~

She felt him coming up behind her. His arm snuck around her waist, and she leaned back into his chest. Closing her eyes against the heat of his breath on her neck, she wanted him. It'd been building inside for days now. She turned to face him.

~"Sound and color

Try to keep yourself awake…"~

His lips barely brushed hers, but it was enough to make her weak as her hands clung to his shirt. He grabbed her hips to gently keep her away as he kissed her cheek before he tilted his head back to look her in the eyes. A fluttering swirled in her stomach as anticipation built. He stood still for a moment, before taking her face into his hand.

~"Sound and color

This life ain't like a book…"~

He leaned into a kiss that had her wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body pushed up to meet his as they passionately kissed under the moonlight. He pulled her in close as they let their bodies tell each other of their needs. The kiss broke as he took her hand in his and led her through the living room, down a short hallway, and into his bedroom.

~"Sound and color

I wanna touch a human being…"~

While they continued to kiss, she felt his fingers move down her stomach while the other unzipped her jeans. She found her hands doing the same, following right behind him as she felt over his stomach, hip, and then bare thigh. She felt flushed, hot, a combination of his hands exploding her body along with the alcohol she'd consumed. His lips continued to kiss her neck rough as he slid all her clothes off. Shivers rushed through her body as he kissed her shoulder while unclasping her bra, exposing her breasts.

~"Sound and color

I want to go back to sleep…"~

Once she pulled his shirt over his head, Grissom immediately attached his mouth to one and sent her aching and moaning as her head dropped back. As his lips ravished one his hand worked on the other until she was panting, pleading, as the ache throbbed between her legs. Her hands gripped the back of his neck, his back, as he lifted her off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved around and laid her on the bed. Moving his body over hers, she melted into the cool sheets.

~"Sound and color

Ain't life just awfully strange?..."~

He was rock hard against her thigh as she desperately ached for him. They took their time enjoying each other's bodies and revelled in the pleasure they were giving one another. His lips trailed kisses down her body until he reached her underwear that was completely soaked. Fingers slipped under the fabric and moved them down and off her feet. Teasing her, he kissed her feet, then her calves, her thighs, working his way back to her center and making her withered against the bed. Her hands fought for purchase of something to hold onto and settled for the edge of the mattress above her head.

He licked her and she nearly screamed, her hands gripped his hair, as he took her in his mouth. She opened her legs to give him better access and he rewarded her by eating greedily, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her body. She was getting close.

Opening her eyes, she finally looked down at him as saw him watching her. There was a soft glint in the dark orbs, a gentle teasing wink before he slipped two fingers in at the same time he licked her again. Every nerve in her body felt as if it'd been set on fire as he hit the right spot. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she came. She came so hard her legs shook.

"Oh, God," gasped into the room.

~"I wish I never gave it all away

Sound and color…"~

Kissing his way back up her body, he stopped at her breasts once again. As he kissed and licked and bit her skin, his hand opened the drawer of the bedside table. She was still recovering when she saw him slip the condom on and position himself over her. He teased at her entrance as he stared down into her eyes. It seemed as if he were waiting. She pushed up off the bed and kissed his lips as she wrapped her arms around his body, her leg hooking his waist, and bucked up into him. If he'd been waiting for a sign to continue, that was it.

He pushed into slowly, eased back, pushed again, further, eased back, and then drove all the way until he filled her completely. Her head hit the pillow as she gasped, closed her eyes, and relished in the feel of his love making.

~"No more to see the setting of the sun

Sound and color…"~

His thrusts were at first a slow, steady pace of long, even and deliberate strokes. Inciting moans and gasps from the lips that he kissed. Rocking gently, he brought her close several times before easing her back down. She felt him shift his weight on top of her, crushing her chest into his. She moved her hips to meet his until another orgasm rocked her body.

~"Life is…

Sound and color..."~

Taking her other thigh in his hand, he wrapped it around his other hip, then with a powerful push forward, thrust harder. His pumping grew more furiously. As he quickened his pace, she began to move harder up into him. Both of them were sweating profusely, breathing heavily into each other's breaths, as she gasped against and came.

~"Love is...

Sound and color…"~

"God, Gll, oh fuck," she groaned as she felt her toes curl and legs shake.

She could tell by his breathing that he was getting close to orgasm but suddenly stopped. His grip on her thigh tightened, his muscles tensed as his eyes clenched shut. He groaned as he came, body arching and tensing as he kept moving in and out, filling her with everything he had until there was nothing left.

His head resting on hers, she coaxed him back down as his chest heaved and shook against hers. She saw a wetness on his face. Opening his eyes, she saw the tears. His hand caressed her face, mesmerized by what he saw, before he kissed her deeply once again.

~"Love is...

Sound and color…"~

They rested for a long time, just holding one another as they both eased in and out of the pleasure that'd filled their body, and love that'd ravished their hearts. As she held him to her chest, that's what she felt. It pounded up through her heart and filled her entire chest. She loved him.

~"Sound and color…"~

In his arms, she felt cherished and wanted. Loved. Tears broke from her eyes as she ran a hand through his hair. His lips kissed her chest before he let out a deep breath of what felt like relief. They both fell into a deep sleep that neither one had experienced in a very long time.

~"Sound and color."~

TBC…

Disclaimer songs used: "Last Saturday" and "Carresses" by M83 and "Sound and Color" by Alabama Shakes