A/N: A great big thank you goes out to Psyched,
quite possibly the best beta ever.
Without her, this story would never have been written in the first
place.
Spoilers:
Nada
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. CSI belongs to CBS and Alliance-Atlantis
Productions. No money is being made off
this (promise).
LET'S GET IT ON
by Raff
************************************
It
started off innocently enough. They were
meeting at a blues club to see Warrick, and Sara was beyond surprised to see
Grissom sitting there. It went to show
how deeply his affection for Warrick actually ran. It was a little place, with seating that ran
in the form of an overcrowded furniture store.
Couches were set up at angles to each other, allowing a measure of
privacy for couples but still conducive to easy conversation with others in the
same vicinity.
Grissom
was seated at an angle from Nick and Catherine, who were on their own small divan. Which left no
place else for Sara, except next to Grissom.
He was turned toward Catherine, listening to her babble, when Sara sat
down beside him. Leaning back he gave
her a smile, while the others greeted her enthusiastically. "I didn't miss Warrick did I?" she
asked.
"He's
next," Catherine answered while waggling her eyebrows. Cath grinned then
and Nick started laughing.
Sara
sent Grissom a questioning look, and he responded with
a roll of his eyes and declared, "Someone needs to be cut off."
"Speak
for yourself mister, I'm having fun tonight.
You should try it Gil, it's good for the soul," Cath
retorted.
At
that point Greg walked up and waved, and proceeded to scoot in beside Sara even
though there was precious little room.
Trying to keep a few scant inches between herself and Greg, she had no
choice but to press herself up against Grissom's side. He responded by putting his left arm across
the back of the couch, bringing Sara in closer contact with his body, the back
of her head resting on the front of his shoulder. Sara could feel the warmth of his body
through their clothes, and fought the urge to press closer still, if that had
been possible.
Nick
motioned a waitress over, and Greg proceeded to order
drinks for Sara and himself.
"I've
taken the liberty, Sara, to broaden your experience by ordering you a Buttery
Nipple," Greg uttered.
The
comment elicited a glare from Grissom but Greg was undaunted. Minutes later the waitress returned with
their order. Sara took her drink and
turned to Greg with a smile, "As long as you realize this is as close to a
nipple as you're coming with me."
Greg
pouted as he watched Sara sip her drink.
"Griss, have you ever had a Buttery Nipple?" she asked
holding her drink up.
Grissom
put down his own bourbon and placed his hand over Sara's and brought the glass
to his mouth, to taste it. Sara could
hardly believe what he was doing. His
eyes locked on hers and she was unable to break the gaze. Grissom licked the creamy drink from his lips
and continued to look at Sara though he addressed Greg. "Not bad, Greg, but your pick up lines
need work."
Warrick
was introduced and the spell was broken.
Everyone's attention was drawn to the small stage. He was an even better musician than they had
chanced to believe. Sara looked at
Grissom to find his eyes already on her.
She turned her head to whisper in his ear, and he tilted his head to
listen. "I had no idea he was this
good." He nodded and his attention
was once again directed towards the stage and Warrick.
Sara
found herself staring at Grissom's profile, and she
gave into the desire. She saw his dark
beard and how marvelously it contrasted with his graying hair and wondered what
it would feel like against her own skin.
Smiling at the thought, she was drawn to impossibly long eyelashes that surrounded the darkest blue eyes she had
ever seen. At that instant she felt
another gaze on her and looked across to Nick, who was wearing a knowing smile
of his own. Sara blushed and cast her eyes
downward, which brought her to Grissom's lap.
His drink was held in his right hand, resting on top of his thigh. His hand was clean and strong looking, the
smattering of hair much lighter than that of his head or beard. The nails were short as a man's should
be. Her eyes gravitated toward his
crotch, and she fought against the need to squirm in her seat. She found herself becoming aroused for the
millionth time since coming to Vegas, simply by looking at this man.
She
allowed the fantasies to play out in her head while Warrick's
music filled the room.
************************************
Before
long, Warrick's set ended and he strolled over and
sat on the end of Catherine's couch.
Everyone gave their sincere compliments and Warrick humbly thanked them.
The house band struck up and an attractive woman approached and asked Warrick
to dance. Catherine jumped up and told
her, "He's promised this one to me."
A laughing Warrick was then led out onto the small dance floor.
Nick
gallantly offered his services to the rejected woman leaving only Greg, Sara
and Grissom still seated. Sara, knowing
Greg, had silently begun praying Grissom would ask her to dance. But Sara knew this would never happen,
Grissom being Grissom. At the exact
moment that Greg turned to Sara, Grissom's pager went off.
With
a scowl on his face he uttered, "It's Brass, I've
got to go." With an almost
apologetic look, he glanced to Sara and opened his mouth as if to say
something. And then suddenly her pager
went off too. "Well can you believe that, it's Brass," she said
slyly. "I'd better go with you. I.. er..need
to talk to him... to find out what's up with a case I worked earlier."
Grissom
nodded in agreement and turned back to address Greg. "Give Warrick our regrets, we'll see
everyone tomorrow." Greg answered
with a mock salute, not quite buying their story. Grissom took Sara's arm to lead her out of
the crowded club. As they exited Sara
caught Cath's eye and waved a farewell, and both
Warrick and Catherine smiled back.
"Sara,
you don't need to go with me, really.
I'm sure it's nothing Brass and I can't handle." Grissom had opened the door to the nightclub
and stood back to allow Sara to pass.
"Humor
me, then. I was ready to leave...crowds
aren't really my thing." There was
a slight smile on her face as she said that, and Grissom nodded, apparently
acquiescing.
"Okay?"
she asked. "I'm driving," a
real smile graced her face as she said the last.
"Good,
because I just remembered I don't have my truck or my kit." He cocked his head slightly, "I rode
with Catherine," helpless to resist, he returned a like smile.
When
they arrived at the crime scene, Brass gave them a queer look. "Is this
the CSI equivalent of happy hour, a two for one type deal?" he asked,
while smiling at Sara.
"Where's
your body?" Grissom questioned ignoring the smug Brass.
"Who
said anything about a body?" Brass returned.
"Well,
I know I shouldn't be assuming, but seeing as how both Sara and I were paged, I
figured there must be."
"Ah,
well. Sorry big guy, perp
already sang. B&E in a jewelry
store. Couple of uniforms picked him up
a block down trying to fence the stuff to one of their snitches."
Grissom
stood there with Sara's kit in hand, staring rather incredulously.
"You
called out two CSI’s for that?" Grissom looked almost pissed.
"Ah,
Sara...do you want to take this one?" asked Brass.
"Gee,
Grissom, how do I explain...I asked Brass to page me if anything came in, in
case...well you know, Greg was going to be there and he can be so
bothersome." She looked almost
twelve at this point.
Grissom
had turned to Brass for confirmation.
"Yeah, it's true. I told
Sara if I got anything in, I'd buzz her," Brass answered, appearing
slightly chagrined.
"And
luckily, Brass has the best timing. Grissom I so didn't want to dance with
Greg." She was almost pleading at
this point.
Turning
back towards Brass, he asked, "You don't need us?"
Brass
shook his head in the negative. "Open and shut, guy's
in the wagon, we're gone in ten minutes."
Taking
Sara's arm and turning away, Grissom replied, "Then we're outa here."
Brass
laughed and winked at Sara.
"Why
didn't you just ask me to dance? Instead
of concocting some wild scheme with Brass?" he chided upon arriving back
at Sara's Tahoe.
"Like
you would have," she responded while climbing into the truck. Not bothering to argue, he jerked his
seatbelt across his chest. 'He didn't like that answer,' she thought to
herself. She turned the key in the
ignition and sat there staring at him.
"What?"
he asked irritably after seeing her questioning look.
"Where
are we going?"
"What
do you mean?"
"I
mean where are we going? As in back to the club?
Back to your place?" I did not just say that. She saw a smirk appear on his face. "My place?" he queried. "Why would we go there?"
"Because
that's where you live, and you've got no apparent means of
transportation."
"Oh." A somewhat surprised look appeared on his
handsome face.
"I'm
waiting ...Grissom? Where are we
going?"
"How
about your place?" he answered, that smirk was back.
"My
place?" she croaked.
"Your place.
I've never seen it," leaning back a little too confidently in the
passenger's seat.
"Sure,"
she answered a bit brighter than she felt.
"You
got anything to eat there?" he asked doubtfully.
"Of
course I do. What did you have in mind,
exactly?"
"To
eat, you mean?"
Sara
ignored the double entendre. "Yes Grissom, are you hungry for anything in
particular?" She put on her best indignant look and put the Tahoe in gear.
Stealing
a glance his way, she saw him sticking his tongue out between his teeth and
then a smile appeared back on his face.
"I can think of lots of things.
What are you hungry for Sara?"
She
swallowed hard, trying to forget about that tongue of his.
"Why don't we just cruise through a taco stand? I've got some Mexican beer at home."
"Sounds
like a plan to me," he answered while looking out his side window.
Twenty
minutes later they were in Sara's apartment.
She caught Grissom looking around while she got out the necessary
utensils and took them to the small dining table.
"Grab
up the cerveza, Griss."
"Sure. You got any limes to go with the beer?"
he called out from the kitchen.
"I
think so, look in the lower bins of the fridge."
He
came out a minute later with the beers in one hand and a lime and knife in the
other.
They
ate and drank companionably for a while, when suddenly Grissom took her hand,
drawing her attention. "I would
have you know."
"Would've
what?" she responded with a nervous laugh.
"I
would have danced with you. I wish you
had asked me." With that he
squeezed her hand and added, "But this is nice too."
Sara
could only nod in agreement.
"I
should have known you had some kind of ulterior motive in wanting to go with
me."
"Ulterior motive?
Griss, you make me sound so conniving,"
the last said laughing.
"Quit
acting so innocent. You're not above
flirting to get your way. You can't help
it, it's in your genes." His head was tilted to one side as he smiled
back at her.
"What? I hardly think wanting to avoid Greg at
whatever cost should constitute such derogatory and sexist comments from
you!" She said with mock anger.
"I'll
have to keep that in mind, Sara is willing to do pretty much anything to evade
young Sanders' amorous advances."
"I
wouldn't say anything", she returned pointedly.
"No?" He took another sip of his beer, watching for
her reaction over the bottle.
"Absolutely
not, I'm pretty particular actually."
She said this while desperately trying to maintain a straight face.
"Really?"
He arched an eyebrow and placed his elbows on the table and leaned in
toward her.
"Yes, really."
This time with a measure of conviction. And with that Sara leaned forward; and though
she could see he didn't quite believe she would, she pressed her lips to
his. She heard him suck in his breath
with surprise, and after a moment of hesitation felt his response as he gently
moved his mouth over hers.
"That, was very nice," Sara said softly after they ended the
kiss.
"Very
nice indeed," he answered and came in for another kiss, longer and deeper
this time. His tongue was cold and
tasted like the liquor of the evening and was oh so delicious. His lips were incredibly soft and warm in
contrast.
Suddenly
breaking free he asked rather bluntly, "You done here?" pointing at
the discards of their meal.
"I
think so." She was still a little
breathless at the turn their evening had taken.
After
clearing the table he leaned back against her counter top watching her load
their few dishes in the washer. She then
approached him and placed her hands at his waist, and pressed forward to place
a tentative kiss on his lips. His mouth
opened immediately in response to hers and his arms came up, pulling her in
closer. Her tongue played with his and
she began to suck down on it as a prelude of things to come.
Hearing
him moan, her hands snaked down into his front pockets, and he felt the blood
pounding into his cock. Releasing her
lips his voice was low when he asked, "Aren't you going to show me the
rest of your place?"
"Sure,
but there's not much to show, I'm afraid."
Taking his hand she began the grand tour, fearing he was putting the
brakes on their intimacy.
"This...is
the living room." She gestured with
a sweep of her arm, looking back at Grissom she saw him nod, but he wasn't
looking at the living room at all.
Instead he was gazing directly at her face.
"Continuing
on..." leading him down the short hallway, she motioned to a small spare
bedroom. "This is my guest
room" and across the hall "the guest bath." Still his piercing eyes had yet to leave
her. "And last but not least....my
bedroom," she said the last on a whisper.
She
reached in with her hand and flicked on the lights, and turned back just in
time to see him reaching for her.
Sara
couldn't believe this was happening. Not
like this. Not in a million years, would
Gil Grissom be taking her into his arms.
He
pulled her closer, her breasts brushing against his hard chest. His mouth searched out hers, and it was soft
and blissful. ‘I'll never feel like this
again,’ she thought. ‘If the world came to an end right now, it would be worth
it.’
But
it didn't stop there. He pushed her
backwards until they toppled down onto her bed, his mouth never leaving hers.
He
went on kissing her, softly moaning while doing so. His hands slid under her bottom, kneading,
his knee pressed between her thighs for entrance. Sara spread her legs for him, allowing the
trespass.
Grinding
against his leg, arousing herself further, her hands found their way to his
shirt front. Deftly working on the
buttons, exposing each inch of flesh, his chest was firm under her warm
fingers, tanned and devoid of hair. Her
mouth craved to taste it. She pushed him
up from her, to drink up the sight.
He
was watching her, undecided what her next move would be. She pulled the shirt free of his pants and
removed it from his shoulders. She then
began to unbutton her own shirt.
Grissom's eyes were trained on her
breasts, covered in a white bra with little lace. As she started to unclasp it, his hands
reached out to stop her.
"Leave
it."
Sara
nodded and he began to unfasten her faded jeans. Sitting up to aid him, she left the plain
white panties she was wearing on also.
The
bulge in his pants was obvious, and drew both their attention.
She
pressed her hand to him and ran her fingers along the length of his turgid
cock.
"It's
your turn," she challenged.
Grissom
stood, unbuckling his belt, his hand working the button, then the zipper, his
eyes taking in her state of undress.
Sara's
breathing was shallow and rapid. Having
divested himself of all his clothes she saw his erection straining and her eyes
widened. He was large and jutting
straight out. Returning to the bed, he
lay down, and pulled her on top of him.
His body was on fire. She felt
scorched wherever they touched. Both his
hands had found her face, and pulled her close for his kisses. His mouth slid to her ear and she heard him sigh her name.
He
moved down her body to her breasts. He
kissed first one peak and then the other through the fabric of her bra. He finally unclasped it and gently pushed it
aside. Taking a nipple in his mouth, his
tongue circled the aureole and then he began to gently suckle. Sara felt an almost palpable shock go through
her, directly to her clitoris. His beard
was soft against her breast, and she was oblivious to the noise she was making,
until she realized the effect it had on him.
His hands had moved down her body, one delving under her damp panties. She was unprepared for the feel of his hand
there, massaging the tender flesh. She
heard him groan when he found how wet she was.
Her thighs clamped down on his hand and she began writhing against
him.
His
mouth returned to hers as he continued masturbating her, pushing his fingers
inside her then out to stroke against her clit and back again. Sara's hips rocked rhythmically against him
and the soft spasms of her orgasm began.
She sucked his tongue into her mouth and bit down gently as her climax
subsided. She recovered and looked down
on him. "Grissom..." she
sighed.
She
stroked his chest, which was covered in a fine mist of sweat. He was so dark against her light comforter,
her pale hand stood out in contrast.
Pressing her lips to him, her tongue glided down the center, pausing at
his navel, she began placing small kisses on the flesh leading down toward his
erection. She skipped past that part of
him that ached most. Her hands caressed
his inner thighs, while she licked and kissed all around his groin, his pubic
hair tickling her cheeks.
He
was so aroused watching her, he had begun breathing through his mouth. "Sara.... please,"
he pled.
She
looked up at him shyly, his hands were grasping the
spread, trying to maintain control. She
held his throbbing erection away from his body and her mouth took possession of
him. He was thick and so hard and hot,
she couldn't begin to take it all in.
Her hands began working in tandem, stroking his shaft and gently lifting
and caressing his testicles. She sped up
her movements, and her tongue lathed at the glans.
His groans became louder. Watching and
feeling her mouth glide up and down his cock
was soon more than he could stand, and a few minutes later he pulled her up
roughly to straddle him.
"I
want you to come," she argued.
"I
want to come inside you, but I want you to come again first."
"Wait."
She put out her hand to forestall him.
"Birth control," she added in response to his questioning
look.
She
then pulled away from him, and darted into her bathroom. Grissom used the brief interlude to pull down
the sheets. She returned naked and he
took her hand and said softly, "We're okay to do this?"
"Yes,
we need to do this Grissom," she answered as he positioned her on top to
accept him. She began rubbing the head
of his penis against her wet opening, pushing gently, then
retreating again to pass it over her clit, mimicking what he had done earlier
with his fingers. Each time she took him
in a little further.
She
was tight, and he knew he was big and wanted to minimize her discomfort, so
nothing was rushed. Appreciatively she
sunk down on him and heard Grissom moan.
'It's never felt like this' she thought, her mind fogging, filling only
with pleasure, only with Grissom. She'd
never been this full, and she held herself still on top of him, allowing time
for her body to adjust.
She
then began to move. Slowly
and seductively. He grasped her
hips tight to his pelvis with one hand while the other caressed her small
breasts. He began thrusting up, pinching her erect nipples and feeling her wetness run
down upon his scrotum. Sara's moans
became incoherent ramblings, eclipsed only by his own. His fingers moved to her clit, rubbing in
time with their thrusts, wandering over her mons and
back. He refused to let her quicken the
pace, so she began to rotate her hips in a circular motion.
Eliciting
another groan from him, he closed his eyes and murmured, "Sara you feel so
good."
He
continued to keep himself buried within her, allowing for them only to rock to
and fro, until he heard her gasp, "Grissom...I'm coming!"
He
began thrusting hard then, pulling her down to clamp his mouth over hers, he
suddenly held himself deep inside her and allowed himself to finally ejaculate,
crying out while doing so.
Sara roused, lifting herself off his glistening chest, to look down upon him.
"I've
never done that before."
Resting
on the pillow, he opened his eyes and tilted his head in question and arched a
brow.
"Climaxed,
during intercourse." she simply stated.
He
smiled then, whether in pride or because of her candor he wasn't sure, but he
believed her.
"The
pleasure was all mine," he winked and stroked her back idly.
"Well,
I'm not so sure about that," she said with a laugh.
He
was beyond the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen at that point. His hair was damp and curling wildly due to
their exertions.
"Yeah,
well I'm worn out, I think I need some
sleep." A drowsy smile appeared on
his face.
You're going to stay the night then?" He heard the hesitancy in her voice.
"Unless you want me to leave?
I don't have a car though, remember?"
"No! Grissom... it's taken this long, please. If you leave now, tomorrow I'll wake up and
think this was all just a dream."
She tried to tone down the panic in her voice, but wasn't sure how
successful she had been.
"Come
here." He lifted her off his sated
body and wrapped her in his embrace. As
he pulled the covers over them and lay back she tucked her head under his chin
and felt his lips in her hair. She then
heard him whisper, "Go to sleep Sara, I'm not going anywhere."
************************************
"Sara....
excuse me Sara."
It was Greg that brought her out of her reverie. She knew what was coming, and was more than a
little perturbed at having been brought out of her vivid daydream as she turned
her head to look at him.
He
was wearing that shit eating grin of his and on the verge of letting loose one
of his nonsensical dissertations. It was
too much. Sara spun her head in the
opposite direction and blurted, "Grissom, will you dance with me?"
The
look on his face was priceless. A deer
caught in the headlights, everyone at the lab would later call it.
After
a quick glance over to Nick and Catherine, who had both heard
Sara's request, and were awaiting his answer as eagerly as Sara herself,
he turned back and squeaked out, "Sure."
With
an almost audible sigh she rose and made her way to the dance floor, too afraid
to look back and make sure Grissom was in fact following her.
She
closed her eyes briefly in relief when she felt his hand at the small of her
back when she reached the hardwood dance floor.
Warrick
had just finished playing as luck would have it, and there was a deejay
spinning tunes between the live music.
Sara
turned to face Grissom and placed one hand in his and the other on his
shoulder. The song was slow, and it
wasn't long before his hands had dropped to link around her waist, and hers
around his neck. Being only slightly
shorter than he, she was able to rest her cheek against his, and continue
swaying in time to the music.
A
moment later Grissom had nudged her to look up, and
she saw that Warrick and Catherine were dancing near them.
She
smiled to herself as she felt his beard caress her skin. She had closed her
eyes, determined to commit this dance to memory. They continued that way, and she couldn't
help but feel that something had changed between them for the better. As she was debating whether to mention this
to Grissom or not, she opened her eyes and saw Greg walking away from the
deejays booth. Sara knew he had been up
to no good, and tried hard not to cringe.
The
song came to an end and Grissom sensed the change in her demeanor, for he
pulled away slightly to send her a raised eyebrow.
Before
she could tell him what she had observed, they heard the opening strains of the
next song. And then the deejay announced
over his mike, "This one goes out to everybody's favorite CSI night shift
couple, from the newest member of the team.
Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get It On!'”
"Ohh...I would never have believed Greg would sink this
low," she hissed. Sara searched the
crowd for the little weasel, and noticed for the first time, the vast number of
LVPD personnel that were in attendance.
I've been really tryin', baby
Tryin to hold back these feelings for so long
And if you feel, like I feel baby
Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
"Please
tell me Catherine and Warrick are still out here," Grissom barely breathed
out in answer. The
reprise continuing.
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
"I
don't think so Grissom," Sara said as she looked around the rest of the
dance floor. "As a matter of fact I
think they've slipped out. Along with
the rest of them," she added shaking her head, realizing the seats they
once occupied were now empty.
We're all sensitive people
With so much love to give,
understand me sugar
Since we got to be
Let's say,
I love you
Sara
looked back at Grissom and saw her own embarrassment mirrored in his face.
There's nothing' wrong with me
Lovin' you---
And givin'
yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true
"Well,
that's just great," Grissom spat, visibly bristling with unfeigned
anger. "I swear I'm going to fire
every damn one of them, starting with that idiot Sanders-- he'll never see the
light of day again. Not to mention, now
I've got to find a ride home."
Don't you know how sweet and
wonderful, life can be
I'm askin'
you baby, to get it on with me
I ain't gonna worry, I ain't gonna push
So come on, come on, come on, come
on baby
Stop beatin'
round the bush...
Suddenly,
recognizing the absurdity of it all Sara burst out laughing, and began to pull
Grissom off the floor.
"Come
on Griss, I'll give you a ride home."
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
Gathering
up their things they made a hasty exit as the chorus continued to ring in their
ears, along with numerous snickers and finger pointing.
They
had made their way out onto the sidewalk and into the night air, when Sara
heard Grissom say, "Let me guess, you're parked way off to avoid paying
for a valet?" He was answered with
only a sheepish smile.
The
chill of the evening seemed to have cooled Grissom's temper somewhat. After walking several minutes he heard her
teeth chattering.
"You cold?"
"A
little bit," she shivered.
He
took her hand in his much warmer one and placed them both in his jacket
pocket. She smiled up at him in
gratitude, and he asked with a grin, "You wouldn't happen to be in the
mood for Mexican food, would you?"
************************************