A/N: Once again a big thank you goes out to Psyched. Because there are betas, and then there are BETAS! I'm not forgetting Kris either. We all know there are precious few smut sites, and both writers and readers alike appreciate them.

Disclaimer: CSI and everything associated and affiliated with it belong to CBS and Alliance Atlantis Productions. No copyright infrigement intended. No profit of any kind is being made.

Sexual Healing

*****************************************

They had driven to Henderson with a comfortable silence between them. The radio was playing and occasionally Sara would hum or sing along. Following Grissom's directions, they arrived at a small neighborhood restaurant. Upon entering they were barraged by the smell of spicy Mexican food, and a short matronly woman.

"Hola, Mr. Grissom. It's so good to see you again," the owner greeted him warmly. "Would you like a table or a cozy booth?" The older woman asked while smiling at Sara. "A booth would be great, thanks," he answered. After being seated Grissom ordered Margaritas for them both.

"Sorry, I'm pretty sure they don't serve Buttery Nipples here."

"Oh, believe me that's quite alright," Sara answered with a laugh.

Latin music was playing discreetly in the background. "It's not exactly a Motown soundtrack either," Grissom responded cocking his head upwards to where the music was emanating.

Sara dropped her eyes to the table and seemed to be deep in thought.

Glancing back at Sara, he noticed a blush across her cheeks that hadn't been there a moment before.

"Hey Griss, I'm really sorry for putting you on the spot back there. I know you were just as embarrassed as I was."

"Don't worry about it. I'm only sorry we had such a short dance. Leave it to Sanders to find a way to ruin a classic Marvin Gaye song."

"Marvin Gaye has always been one of my favorites," Sara answered.

The waitress returned with their drinks and proceeded to take their order.

After taking a sip Sara exclaimed, "Wow, I won't be having many of these and driving home."

That drew a smile from Grissom and he responded, "That's good to know."

They had easily fallen into conversation about the lab, and the people they worked with, both past and present. Their meal passed too quickly. Grissom ordered another Margarita for himself, while Sara still nursed her first. When he started to order a third round, Sara stopped him, "Whoa Grissom, I've got to drive all the way back home."

He looked like he was about to argue with her and then changed his mind. "You're right, as usual." With that he motioned for the check. When Sara reached into her purse, he hastily told her, "Sara, please. I asked you to dinner, allow me."

"Alright," she responded, shrugging into her light jacket. After assisting her, he asked, "Why do you women refuse to wear appropriate clothing? No wonder you were freezing."

"So we can cuddle up to you men, Grissom," she playfully answered and slid out of the booth.

She watched him casually throw out the appropriate bills, and then turned to her and asked, "You ready?"

"I'm always ready," she continued to flirt while walking towards the exit.

"Well wait up then, Miss Sidle. I wouldn't want you getting cold and cuddling up to some other guy."

She took his hand on the walk out to the truck and tried to stifle a yawn. "Am I boring you?" he asked while leaning into her.

"No, too much to eat. All this night life, I'm just not used to it."

She had a slight smile on her face when they reached the truck. "You'll have to give me directions, I followed Cath to your place last time."

When they reached his townhouse, Sara turned to him and said, "Thank you for tonight, Grissom. I had fun."

"Me too. Are you sure you're not too tired to drive?"

He said this so sincerely, Sara knew he meant it. "I'll be fine, really," This time a yawn did break through.

Grissom leaned over and switched the ignition off. "I don't think so. Come on, I've got a real comfy spare bedroom."

"Grissom, it's not necessary," she trailed off. He had pocketed her keys and was opening his door. "Forget it. And don't start making up excuses, I know you've got a change of clothes and necessities in here."

That left her with no alternative but to follow him.

"You won't breathe a word of this?"

"Sara, I promise," he was holding up two fingers like a Boy scout.

And with that she was in his abode.

*****************************************

He had picked up his mail on the way in, and was now casually perusing it. Sara had plopped down on his couch, and was trying to take in her surroundings without appearing too nosy. It looked exactly the same as it had almost three years ago. And how sad was that, that she had committed this man's place to memory, she thought.

"Hey, you want something to drink?"

His voice startled her. "Ugh, no I'm sure I've had enough."

"How about some ice cream?" he called out again.

"I can't possibly imagine where I'd put it. You go ahead."

A minute later he was plopping down on the couch next to her, a big bowl of ice cream in tow.

She looked pointedly from him to the bowl, and back again.

He dipped his spoon into what appeared to be a mixture of coffee ice cream and Oreo cookies.

"Is that Starbucks Mud Pie?"

He nodded his head while inserting the spoon in his mouth.

"That's really cruel, Griss."

"Yeah," he answered in mock sympathy. "And it's really good, too."

Sara watched in silence while he downed several more spoonfuls.

"Do you have any idea what that stuff does to your cholesterol?"

He was leaning back, his feet up on the coffee table in front of them, the bowl resting on his abdomen. He raised an eyebrow at her before answering. "You want some bad, don't you?"

"Maybe I will have a taste."

He had a smirk on his face as he took another bite.

"Just one spoon, Grissom." She reached for his spoon, but he held it just out of reach.

"Think of your clogging arteries, Sara."

"Stop being a jerk, and give me some."

"Are we still talking about ice cream?"

She sat back and stared at him, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Listen," he said reaching over to grasp her arm for effect.

"What? I don't hear anything."

"Exactly. I've flummoxed Sara Sidle." A smile tugged at one side of his lips, and she could tell he was desperately trying to keep from laughing.

"Give me the damn ice cream Grissom, and no one gets hurt." She made a mad grab for the bowl.

He was laughing out loud now, and she was struck that it had been literally years since she'd heard that sound from him.

"Let go and I'll give you some." He was trying to fend her off, with little success.

"Are you still talking about ice cream?"

She was leaning across his body, in her effort to reach the prized dessert.

He had stilled, pinning her with that piercing gaze of his. He slowly placed the bowl down on the coffee table, and turned back toward her.

She stared back, refusing to be the one who called a halt to the innuendo. Hesitantly, they drew closer, giving each other plenty of opportunity to check the imminent kiss. He had raised his hand to her neck, and begun gently caressing the underside of her jaw with his thumb. Then his mouth descended upon hers. His lips caused an immediate response in her body, and she raised a hand to run through the hair at the back of his skull. He deepened the kiss and shifted his body, pulling Sara down on top of him until she was in a supine position. Her tongue snuck into his mouth to play with his.

She felt him open his legs, causing her pelvis to rest intimately against the bulge in his pants, which was rapidly growing larger. She couldn't help rubbing herself against him; nor could she stop the sighs that were emanating from her. His mouth had moved to her neck, and was just beginning its assault on her ear when her conscience hit.

Does he really want this? He must be at least slightly drunk to kiss me. Okay, it's obvious he physically wants me, but what about tomorrow? When he's stone cold sober?

She tried to push the troubling thought aside, and focus on the delicious things his mouth was doing. But there was that nagging little voice again. If I was shit faced, no way he'd take advantage of the situation. But men take advantage of inebriated women everyday. NOT GRISSOM, though; he's not like most men.

His hand had found its way underneath her shirt, and was fast approaching her bra strap. If she was going to call a halt to this it had to be now. She felt the clasp on her bra give, and came up off of him as if she'd been bitten by something.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked with surprise.

"Nothing," she answered as she quickly searched her mind for a believable excuse. She spied the forgotten bowl of ice cream and reached for it instead.

"I just wanted some Mud Pie," she added impishly. Sitting up between his thighs, she began spooning the stuff in her mouth as fast as she could.

"Want some?"

"I believe I've had enough," he answered while disengaging his legs from hers to sit on the edge of the couch. He scratched his beard and shook his head slightly before standing. He'd never thought Sara was the type to prick tease.

"When you're done there, I'll show you your bedroom." He stomped off down the hall, and Sara fought back the urge to cry.

****************************************

He had shown her to the guest bedroom and was walking out the door, when he turned and asked, "Do you need something to sleep in?" She saw his eyes skim down her body.

"Just a tee shirt if you have one, thanks."

"Sure, I'll get you one." Watching him move off Sara wondered how she would get any sleep this night at all.

A minute later he returned, "Here you go. There should be a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom across the hall. Need anything else?"

"No I'm good, thanks." He nodded and once again exited the bedroom.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she retired back to her bedroom. Looking down at the bed, she asked herself for the hundredth time if staying had been a wise decision. She wandered around the room, trying to glean any additional information about the enigma that was Gil Grissom from his possessions. The walls here were adorned with mounted butterflies, as were the ones in his living room. Bookcases were filled with text books; few novels were read here. Her gaze found one book that had caught her attention before. "Single After 50," she pulled it from the shelf and sat down on the bed. As she opened the cover, a handwritten note fell out. Briefly debating the ethics of reading it, she gave in to her curiosity.

Gil, as this seems to be the path you have chosen, thought you might benefit from some professional perspective on the topic.

Don't be angry and remember, it's never too late to change your mind. PS, And you can never call your mother too much. Love, Mom

Smiling, she replaced the note, and set the book down. She found the notion of Grissom's mother chiding him somehow endearing. Though she was certain he wouldn't appreciate her opinion on the matter.

She disrobed and pulled his t-shirt over her head. It was several sizes too large, but suited her fine. 'Too bad he's not wearing it', the thought came unbidden.

Pulling back the covers, she crawled into bed and switched off the lamp on the bedside table. Closing her eyes she wished for sleep to descend upon her. All the while knowing it wouldn't, as long as she was aware of who was slumbering across the hall.

Sara awoke the next morning, disoriented. Her mind quickly cleared, and she realized she was indeed in Grissom's spare bedroom.

The aroma of coffee was strong, and after a brief trip to the bathroom she searched out its source.

Entering the kitchen she found Grissom leaning over the counter reading the morning paper. He was dressed in athletic shorts and a sweaty v-neck t-shirt. He had obviously been out on a run.

"Good morning," Sara piped out.

He swung his head in Sara's direction, his eyes looking over the top of his reading glasses. She saw his eyes running up and down her body, and his mouth gaping open. The t-shirt he had given her to sleep in hit her mid thigh, and she hadn't seen the need to put on anything else.

He was still staring at her legs when he said, "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks. I wish I had known you were going to run this morning, I'd have gone with you."

Her state of undress was fast undoing any benefits he had received as it was.

'Which would have defeated the purpose. She's just as covered up as if she were wearing a dress, why is it so disconcerting? Because it's your shirt she's wearing and she doesn't have a bra on. I wonder if she has on any panties. Stop it! You're not 15. Then why couldn't you sleep last night? Because she was right across the hall from you, IN BED! Face it, you would have jerked off last night if you hadn't been afraid she would have heard you.

"Grissom?"

She was looking at him as if she had repeated herself.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Where are your coffee cups?"

He reached into the cabinet over her head, bringing them in closer proximity. "Here you go," handing her the cup and quickly retreating. "Do you use milk or sugar?"

"Both, please."

After retrieving both the milk and sugar, he tried to focus on reading the paper. She had sidled up next to him and was reading over his shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

"Same old, same old," he answered, turning the page. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked, looking for any excuse to keep from looking at her.

"Not right now, thanks." She had backed off and was leaning against the opposite counter blowing into her coffee cup. Grissom chose that instant to turn around and caught her checking out his ass. He had been so intent on her state of undress that he had forgotten his. He became acutely aware that he wasn't wearing any underwear, and the sweaty cotton material left nothing to the imagination.

Her eyes were running up and down his torso, completely unconcerned that he knew she was scrutinizing him. He felt his mouth turn dry and had to fight the urge to cover his crotch.

"I think I'll go jump in the shower, if that's okay? It always helps wake me up."

"Sure, let me grab you some towels," he answered. Hurrying off, he was glad to be performing any mundane task that would get him out of her line of fire. She followed him down the hall and grabbed up her cosmetic bag.

Entering the guest bath she found the aforementioned towels, and began smiling to herself as she undressed. She thought about his response to her last night, and minutes before in the kitchen. How could such an intelligent, attractive man, be so clueless around women? There was a small clock radio on the counter top and she switched it on. Finding it tuned to an oldies station, she couldn't help laughing to herself. It was so Grissom. She then proceeded to turn on the shower. After several attempts she could only get a small dribble of water to expel from the faucet. 'Just great,' she thought, she didn't know which was worse, scaring Grissom off completely by calling him into the bathroom, or him knowing she couldn't work a faucet. With that she threw a towel around herself and opened the bathroom door a fraction and called his name.

"What's wrong?" he queried. He was obviously getting ready to shower himself, as he now was only wearing his athletic shorts.

"I can't get the shower started," she answered, feeling more then a little foolish.

"Sorry, it's kind of tricky, let me turn it on for you."

Sara moved aside to allow him in. At this point he suddenly became aware she was clad only in a towel. Flustered, he leaned into the shower enclosure. He yanked hard on the faucet and a jet of water hit him full in the face and chest. Sara couldn't help but burst out laughing. He shook his head like a dog and ran his hands through his wet curls and down his face and beard. When he opened his eyes Sara was holding a towel out for him.

"I think you should just shower too," she chuckled.

"Is that an invitation?" He was toweling off his face, perturbed at looking like a fool.

"Do you want it to be?"

He stopped and stared at her, completely speechless, surprise evident on his face. She had seemed eager and willing last night, and then had abruptly put the brakes on his lovemaking. He didn't know quite what to make of her coquettishness.

When she stopped laughing she noticed his attention was no longer on her, but the mirror directly behind. Fearing the worst, she looked herself and saw the towel gaping in the rear, revealing a good portion of her ass.

"Nothing like feeling completely exposed," she managed with a smile, while tightening the offending garment.

"Nothing like being sprayed in the face in front of a pretty girl," he answered hoarsely.

She bowed her head to hide her smile. "Here, let me help you," and she began to towel off his chest. That done, she raised her eyes to his.

"Is the water warm yet?" Her hands had halted at his waist band.

"I don't know, I'm awfully hot all of a sudden," he answered taking the towel from her hands and tossing it at the hamper in the corner.

"Well move over or join me, I'm headed in." He stood there stock still with his mouth hanging open again.

"Grissom, I mean it. If you don't want to be embarrassed you'd better leave."

She watched him swallow hard then answer, "Are you serious?"

"About what?"

"About joining you?"

It's now or never. Find out how he really feels about you. Put the ball in his court.

"Yes."

Turning her back to him their eyes met in the bathroom mirror. He watched mesmerized as she dropped her towel. Sara had never felt more aroused in her life as she watched his eyes travel the length of her body, pausing at her breasts, and the dark thatch between her legs.

"What are you waiting for Grissom?" she asked as she turned back around and stepped toward the shower and entered.

He quickly stripped off his shorts and joined her under the spray. He took the bar of soap from her hands and began to bathe her in earnest. Starting with her back, she felt his hands gliding over her skin, pausing at her buttocks and down to her silky smooth legs. He kissed his way back up her spine. His tongue ran across each vertebra; culminating with a slight bite to the back of her neck, sending a delicious chill through Sara despite the warm water cascading over them.

Reaching around for her breasts, he lathered first one and then the other. The soap working as a lubricant, his hands squeezed her small globes together, molding her flesh as he pleased. She was moaning out loud, and he left no inch of flesh unscathed. She kept her eyes closed the entire time, reveling in his touch, feeling the pulse in her center. As his hand wandered down her belly, she leaned her hands against the shower wall to keep from sinking down.

He spread her legs, his hand finally there, working its magic. His fingers became coated with her own natural wetness, and just as fast they were gone. Before she could recover, she smelled the shampoo just before he began to lather her hair. Once rinsed, he turned her towards him and demanded, "Sara, look at me."

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. His hands clutched her upper arms, and his mouth slowly descended to catch her lips. It was just as it was meant to be, his lips were incredibly soft and warm as they moved over hers, and she wondered if he had been taught to kiss like this or was just a natural. Breaking free, she reached for the bar of soap and uttered, "My turn."

She lathered his arms, from the hair covering his axillas down to his fingertips, being just as thorough as he had been. Her hands worked across his expansive chest. She gave in to the temptation, leaning forward to press her mouth to him, licking the water from his skin. All the while her hands continued their task, lowering to bathe his abdomen. Brushing against his hardened flesh, she quickly turned him around and began on his back, which was already sporting a slight sunburn. Her soapy hands traveled down to his ass. She noticed the demarcation line low at his waist, where the sun had not gilded him. Squeezing his hard cheeks she ran her fingers briefly through the cleft there. She heard him moan and turned him around to face her again.

Her hands gravitated towards his erection. He was very thick and she couldn't keep from staring as she knelt down. His cock was straining towards her. She noticed his pubic hair was still dark, unmarred yet by gray. Forcing her attention to his muscular thighs, she slowly began running the soap up and down, then lower still to his calves. Pausing, she looked up as he reached down to stroke her wet hair. She took his cock into her soapy hands, slowly beginning to stroke. Up and down, mentally measuring him. Her fingers could not encircle his girth, and she found herself becoming wetter still at the thought. He closed his eyes as he felt her taking his balls in one hand, feeling their weight. Leaning forward she took him in her mouth, sucking gently. He was so hard, the skin tight over his shaft and silky smooth. His glans pushed against her palate, her tongue teased his frenum. Suddenly he stood her up and pulled her into his embrace. She encircled his neck with her arms and whispered in his ear, "You taste just like almonds," before answering his fierce kiss. When she felt his hand against her ass pulling her closer still, she stopped him and said, "I need to shampoo your hair."

Releasing her, he reached for the bottle and squeezed a small amount in her hand. "Hurry up," he growled, placing his hands at her narrow waist and squeezing.

Laughing she pulled his head down and took an inordinate amount of time, until he turned the spray of water onto his head, thus ending his bath. He cut off the water and reached for a towel, briskly drying her and himself off. Squeezing the excess water from her hair, he whisked her off her feet and made his way to his bedroom. Depositing her onto his bed he said, "Enough teasing," and moved to cover her with his body.

Her legs opened immediately to accept him, but now he seemed in no hurry to enter her. His mouth locked on hers and then his tongue was entering, thrusting in and out as she began to suck on it. Hearing him moan, her fingers sank into his wet curls. His hands stroked her breasts and his mouth began sliding across her cheek. "Sara," he sighed. His mouth followed his hands and began kissing and nipping at her breasts.

Further down he traveled until his mouth met with her soft damp curls. His tongue ran along her labia, her dampness already seeping through, but did not enter. She spread her legs wider and he lifted them over his shoulders. He began pressing kisses over her mons, applying just the right amount of pressure until he heard her begin to moan. Probing within her folds, finding her swollen and wet, his tongue ran along her crevice and gently licked around her clitoris. Her moans became louder, until at last his tongue pressed against her most sensitive spot and her hips began to rock back and forth. She felt his fingers enter her vagina, stroking slowly in opposition to his tongue. His warm mouth was pushing her closer and closer to orgasm, and she could hardly stop herself from squeezing her legs together. Her fingers found the back of his head and began kneading him like a cat. Her moans turned into cries as she drew closer to climax. As her orgasm swept over her, she pressed her hips upward, her hands holding his head in place. His mouth never stopped its ministrations until he was assured she was sated.

Moving up her body his mouth claimed hers again. "You taste better than almonds," he teased between kisses.

She could feel his erection pressing against her. "We need to take care of you now."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked that half smile appearing on his face.

"I want to make love to you," she replied and then nervously began biting her lower lip.

Arching an eyebrow he answered, "I hear a but."

"I'm not on anything, birth control I mean."

"Oh," he ran a hand through his hair and added, "I've got some condoms," and waited for her response.

She nodded and he sat up and reached into his bedside table and removed a box of prophylactics. She couldn't help but jealously wonder who he had condoms for.

He turned back to her. Sensing a change in her demeanor, he reached out to gently stoke her cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she smiled back bravely and took him into her arms to commence their lovemaking. This was quite possibly the only time they would be together like this, and she was determined not to ruin it.

"Are you sure?" His voice was so full of concern, Sara felt herself begin to tear up.

"Please don't stop, Grissom." With that she put away all her fears and doubts. Pulling his head down for a kiss, she felt his fingers once again between her legs.

He pushed away from her and began rubbing her moistness onto his erection. He caught her gaze and responded, "I want to feel how wet you are." She watched him expertly apply the condom, and then position himself between her thighs.

She raised her legs around his waist and felt him probing gently. "Oh, Sara," he groaned out as he entered her.

She caught at his hips to keep him from entering too fast.

"Too much?"

"A little," she answered honestly.

He nodded his head, and began to gently roll his hips, still not fully entering her. "You feel so incredible," he sighed while looking directly into her eyes. His hands were under her pillow, effectively cradling her head. He pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss as he sank within her. Sara's hands were linked behind his neck and his mouth drifted to her throat. He reached a hand to gently grasp a breast, rolling the erect nipple between his fingers. Her own hips began to lift to meet his, allowing him to further his strokes. After several more minutes of this he was fully hilted. Their pace naturally picked up, and his breathing became heavy in her ears. Her long legs roamed up and down his, tilting her pelvis and adding to their pleasure. He rubbed his chest against hers, grazing her nipples with each thrust, the feel of her driving him past reason.

"Sara, I'm so close," he panted while fighting the impulse to come. She reached down to grasp his ass, and pressing him to her harder, she ground his pelvis into hers.

"Don't stop," she cried out, before his mouth clamped down on hers. He thrust harder and harder, pushing them both nearer the edge. He heard her unmistakably cry out in orgasm; and then groaned himself as his own climax began. Collapsing, he lay still on top of her, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He could feel her hands running up and down his damp back, while she pressed small kisses to his hair. Knowing he must have been growing heavy, he reluctantly withdrew from her. She watched him remove the rubber from his softening penis, and toss it in the wastebasket next to the bed.

Turning back toward her, he ran a hand up her leg.

"If I'd known you were this beautiful naked, I'd have gone to dinner with you earlier," he teased.

"If I'd known you were this big, I would never have asked you out", she retorted lifting his cock. She was having a hard time keeping her hands off him, despite his comment having left her feeling slightly stung. She reached for the box of Magnums on the bedside table. "I always wondered if anyone really needed to purchase these."

He looked at her incredulously. "I have it on good authority that women prefer well endowed men."

"Good authority? Whose? Catherine's? "It's not size that matters Grissom, it's what you do with it." She refused to fuel his inflated ego.

"Say guys with small endowments."

She couldn't help the smile from forming, or the laughter from breaking through.

"Say sore women. I hope I'm able to walk tomorrow." She caught at his hand, which had traveled perilously close to a certain part of her anatomy.

"You just need some time, to get used to...things," he offered.

"I can't believe you just called your genitals "things." Does that mean there will be a next time?" she asked, the context of his words suddenly becoming clear to her.

It was his turn to laugh. "You don't have to be able to walk, for what I have in mind. Time heals all wounds, don't they say?"

"So throw in some great sex, and a year of being ignored just goes away....how could a girl refuse that offer?" She was trying her best not to sound sarcastic.

He was suddenly at a complete loss for word, and she felt a little chagrined for goading him so unexpectedly.

"Promise me something, Grissom?" She had linked their fingers together and was absently rubbing her thumb across his palm. He nodded his head in response.

"Promise me you won't regret this." He pushed her hair back from her face as she continued. "It's just that we've been at this really uncomfortable place for a long time now. And we finally get back on track, and I go and seduce you."

His head was cocked to one side as he considered her words. "Sara, if ever there was a man who wanted to be seduced... it was me."

"This, changes everything Grissom," she answered seriously.

"Yeah, change... I've been working on that. I've been told it's not always a bad thing."

"This was definitely a good thing," she said while motioning between their bodies. "But it's just a start. And a backwards one at that."

"But that's what we do best Sara. Work our way backwards to the start."

Lying back down, he pulled her into his arms and they lay quietly within each other's embrace. Nothing needed to be solved this day, and they would relish these next hours.

The music from the little radio in the guest bedroom reached their ears simultaneously, eliciting a smile from them both.

Ooh, now let's get down tonight

Baby I'm hot just like an oven

I need some lovin'

And baby, I can't hold it much longer

It's getting stronger and stronger

And when I get that feeling

I want Sexual Healing

Sexual Healing, oh baby

Makes me feel so fine

Helps to relieve my mind

Sara felt Grissom's lips caress her ear, as he murmured, "Did I ever tell you how much I like Marvin Gaye?"

***************************************************

Back to the Smut-Fic Shelter

Back to the Main Page