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A Moment of CtyuOty	By : LSI Category: CSI > General Views: 3429 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Moment of Clarity
- 1
Author’s Note: This is a little story I’ve
been working on for quite some time when I needed a break from everything
else. The idea came from Lucky Strike in
a ‘what if’ scenario… What if it had been Sara instead
of Nick with Grissom in the gold mine?
And what if the mine had collapsed?
A note on Remember Lake Tahoe since so many of you have been asking: It’s not
forgotten. I’ll be writing while on vacation
next week and should have the next chapter ready to post when I return.
Acknowledgements: I’d like to thank my betas
Ann and Jo for their thorough work and suggestions on this story; also Cincoflex, Suzy and Marlou for
your ongoing encouragement.
Spoilers: Butterflied.
Disclaimer: The usual, I don’t own nor
profit from any of the characters, I just use them for my own amusement.
* * * * *
A Moment of Clarity
Something shifted; sand, fine and sparkling under the beam of her
flashlight, fell in a thin trickle from the ceiling near the mouth of the
abandoned gold mine.
Sara flicked her light over the rocky surface of the shaft, and then
redirected it to the walls and ceiling of the chamber she occupied. After a moment, she shook her head, silently chiding
herself for her paranoia as she crouched over the pile of rubble to resume her
search.
Minutes later, another sound, more like a grating noise, made her
pause. A persistent flood of sand
swooshed down into the shaft. Her heart
jumped.
“Grissom?” she shouted. Her voice
resounded off the walls of the narrow tunnel connecting this chamber to the
next, deeper into the mine.
“What is it?” he asked as he rushed through the opening.
“Shhh…do you hear that?”
Cocking his head, he listened for a moment, and then looked at her
through the semi-darkness. His
expression went from curiosity to the onset of fear when a low rumble stirred
the air around them. “Let’s get out of
here, now!”
margin-left:0in;line-height:150%'>7:45 a.m.
The silence was as deafening as the roar of falling rocks had been. For a full minute, it had sounded like a
train was coming through the mine. Now,
darkness, broken only by a small beam of light shining hopeful through a gap at
the top of the boulders that trapped them inside, enveloped them. And the dust began to settle.
Grissom climbed up on the smaller rocks that had spilled into the
chamber, and peered through the opening with his flashlight. When he climbed down, his expression was
grim. “The entire shaft’s caved
in.”
Sara picked up her own flashlight and aimed it at him. “Does anyone know we’re here?” Her voice was surprisingly steady given the sickening wave
of dread welling up from her belly.
“No.”
They simultaneously reached for their cell phones, but the absence of a
signal didn’t surprise them.
“Great,” Sara said. “How are we
going to get out of here?”
“Well…we’ll be missed eventually.
They’ll come looking for us.” His
voice was reassuringly cool, smoothing out her frayed nerves.
“That could take a while. We’re not
likely to be missed until beginning of shift tonight.” She looked at him. “Unless your social calendar’s busier than
mine and someone else misses you today,” she added as an afterthought, a
miserable attempt at humor, or sarcasm, she wasn’t sure which. Either way, it came out flat.
He smiled faintly, started to glance away, then his attention, and his
light, focused on her face like a laser beam.
She squinted in the direct light.
“Do you mind?”
“I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”
He advanced on her swiftly, his gaze fixed on her cheek.
Her hand went up automatically and her cheek burned where it
touched. She winced. “It’s nothing, probably just scraped it when
I hit the ground.”
He cupped her jaw in his left hand and turned her face to his probing
gaze. He winced. It was just a scrape, but a bad one. Remorse set in as he realized that in his
panicked attempt to protect her, he’d been excessively rough and caused her
nees ins injury.
“This is my fault. I’m sorry.”
Sara shrugged off his apology.
“You were trying to protect me.
It was very gallant of you.”
“Gallant?”
“Well, yeah. Chivalrous, you
know.” Her eyes teased, and her voice
took on a breathy quality as she added, “You’re my hero.”
He didn’t want to respond to her, but he couldn’t stop his lips from
twitching as he dragged his gaze back to her cheek. “There’s sand, and God knows what else, in
the abrasion. Do you have one of those
bottles of water you always carry with you?”
She nodded. “In
my kit.”
He found her kit easily with his flashlight, and was relieved that the
large bottle of water was almost full.
He didn’t know how long it would be before they were rescued, but he was
guessing at least twenty-four hours, maybe longer depending on how much time it
would take to dig them out. Water would be a welcome commodity under the
circumstances.
He took out a handful of swabs, closed the case, and motioned for her to
sit on it. Then he crouched in front of
her. “Hold the light for me, will you?”
He moved his hand up her good cheek, hooked his thumb around her chin,
and tipped her face to the side. He wet
a swab and began removing particles of sand from the scratches with slow,
careful strokes.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“You’re very…gentle.”
His gaze slid to hers; her eyes were soft, tender—and focused…on
him. He searched them for a long, long
moment before dragging his eyes back to her cheek.
“I hurt you once. I don’t intend
to do it again.”
“Once?” Her
tone was teasing. But his expression
must have betrayed his grief because she quickly added, “Gris,
hurting me when you’re trying to protect me from more serious injury doesn’t
count you know.”
“Good. Then we’re even.” He let her confusion register before he
dipped a clean swab into the capful of water and brought it to her cheek. “Hold still.”
He knew, of course, that she’d been referring to his callous refusal to
her dinner invitation. He’d beaten
himself up about that often enough. Not
because he regretted his decision—it was the right thing, the only thing, to do
at the time, but her invitation had startled him and he responded
reflexively. He’d never meant to hurt
her, as he was fairly certain she hadn’t meant to hurt him when she took up
with that paramedic.
He doubted she even knew how devastating it had been to learn that she
was romantically involved with someone else.
His reaction had been colossally unexpected, eiallially since they weren’t involved, not really, and
it added to the confusion and the grief of the moment. It took some time to make sense of it.
In the end, he reasoned he’d been foolishly possessive of her,
But all that was in the past. It
was over, had been over for them before it even began. And, it was for the best.
Now, if he could only stop feeling.
Touching her, being this close to her—so close that her warm breath
fanned his cheek, wasn’t helping.
Reluctantly, his gaze slid over her face again. Her eyes were closed, and her full lips were
parted just a little. He wondered if
they would feel as soft as they looked, or taste as sweet as he imagined—
His stomach clenched and he stood abruptly. “Done,” he said huskily. His legs felt like tired, old rags, and he
stretched them as he tossed the soiled swabs to the heap of trash in the center
of the chamber.
“Thanks.” Sara gave him back his
flashlight and picked up her own off the floor.
She went down on her knees next to thle ole of debris.
Grissom watched her curiously.
“What are you doing?”
“Well…since we’re here, trapped, probably for hours, if not days, might
as well finish the job we came here to do.
Someone died right here, Gris. I want to know who did it…and why.”
He shook his head in wonder.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said hastily, then shrugged. “Just…you never cease to amaze me.”

10:00 a.m.
“What are you doing?”
Keeping my mind and my hands
occupied. That’s primarily why he was ripping the
remaining wooden planks from the old scaffolding hanging near collapse in the
corner of the chamber. To Sara, he said,
“I figure wooll bll be softer to sit on than this floor.” And
sleep on, he added to himself.
“Good point,” she said, rising from the rocky floor and slapping her
behind back to life. She began clearing
an area near the back wall of the cave.

11:15 a.m.
“I’m bored.”
“Every hero becomes a bore at last,” Grissom said, sighing in mock
defeat.
Sara smiled. “Emerson.”
He looked at her. “Good guess,
Miss Sidle.”
She heard a hint of surprise in his voice and it pricked at her
pride. She couldn’t profess to be as
well-read as Grissom, but she hadn’t spent her life buried under a rock
either. The thought, under the
circumstances, almost made her laugh.
“It wasn’t a guess,” she said haughtily.
“I’ll see you your Shakespeare and raise you an Emerson any day.”
The corners of his mouth curled a little, as if he were repressing a
smile. “And how is it you know so much
about Emerson?”
“I went to Harvard, remember? He is a bit of a legend there.”
“Ahh…true.”
They were sitting on their newly-constructed wooden platform, which was easier on the behind than the floor
of the mine had been. The wall they were
leaning against was something else, however.
Sara brought her knees up and, leaning forward, crossed her forearms
over them. Very bad for her posture, she
knew, but it beat the sharp edges of the wall jabbing at her back.
“You know…Emerson’s been described as aloof, conflicted and withdrawn,”
she told him. “I’m surprised he’s not
your hero.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, Sara?”
“Well, we could…talk, if that’s what you want.”
She laughed; a harsh, sarcastic laugh he felt like a sword through his
chest. pan>pan>“You don’t talk, Grissom.”
He couldn’t deny the truth in her blunt statement. He’d always avoided talking to her about
anything that wasn’t directly or indirectly related to their work. He’d done a good job of keeping their relationship
strictly professional, ever since—
He shook his head. He couldn’t
even blame that on her. He’d always been
careful around her, not allowing himself to get too close, but despite his best
efforts, she still managed to touch him...hurt him.
It was hopeless. He was
hopeless. He wondered, not for the first
time, at the sense of maintaining a wall of indifference between them when she
so easily broke through it with a simple look, or a word, a smile.
He leaned his head back against the cold, hard surface of the wall, and
stared at her. The light sneaking
through the gap at the top of the boulders reflected off the wall above her and
washed down over her still form, lighting her like a priceless work of art. It seemed to say, ‘Pay attention, I’m something
special.’
If Gil were a less sensible man, he might have allowed himself to see it
as a sign. Still, the effect was
phenomenal, and oddly enlightening. The
cocoon of light surrounding her was like a protective shield that freed him to
see her without his many shades of fear.
It was a strange moment of clarity, made stranger still by the fact that
it was occurring while they were trapped in near total darkness. But perhaps it was the dark that gave night its healing powers.
Gil took stock, and eventually the grim account of his life
transpired. No one could predict the
future, but in this brief moment stripped of ambiguity, he knew for certain
that true happiness would never exist without her.

12:15 p.m.
“We should try and get some sleep,” Grissom suggested when he saw her
yawn.
Sara agreed and excused herself to visit the adjoining cave, the one
they’d designated as private quarters to answer nature’s call.
“I wish I had a
blanket…and a pillow.”
< lan lang=EN-US style='mso-bidi-font-family:
Arial'>“You have me,” he offered tentatively.
Oh what a loaded, multi-layered pile of crap, Sara thought. “I don’t have you, Grissom. I will never—“ damn
that hiccup, “have you.”
“You have me now, and if nothing else, I think I’d make an adequate
pillow.”
“Yeah…an inanimate object.”
“That’s cruel.” But he was
smiling. She was cranky, which was
understandable under the circumstances, but at her worst Sara was still the
most lovable woman he’d ever met.
She turned and gave him a heart-stopping smile. “Kidding,” she said, and then prodded his
chest with a strong index finger.
“Cushiony, yet…firm,” she said.
“I do believe…the best of both worlds.”
“Oh?”
Her hand flattened on his chest, then explored it gently. She was so focused on what she was doing that
he didn’t think she was aware of what she was
doing—to him. He felt the throb of his
response to that first intimate touch from her.
His chest rose and fell under her hand.
And then, she lifted her eyes, and he caught his breath. They were darker than he’d ever seen them,
burning with confusion, and something else, so intense, and hot with feeling,
he ached with an inner longing.
“Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are?” The words were out of his mouth before he
could censor them.
She blinked slowly and when she looked at him again, her eyes were full
of wonder. “Am I dreaming?”
The breathless quality of her voice thrilled him. He grinned and k hik his head. “No,” he said softly.
clasclass=MsoNormal style='margin-top:6.0pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt;
margin-left:0in;line-height:150%'>She settled on her back and stared at the ceiling. After a long moment, she turned her head and
looked at him. Her smile was so sweet,
he found himself catching his breath again.
A man could forget his own name when Sara Sidle smiled like that. Indeed, a man could forget anything else
existed. And he was very much a man.
“When you decide to speak, you can be…very charming,” she said.
He propped his head up in his hand and shrugged. “It’s the truth. Men have tried, Sara, whether in song or
sonnet, to describe the beauty of a woman and how it aff him him. I have yet to come across any words that do
you justice.”
His words stunned her into silence.
Sara watched, mesmerized, as he moved his hand under her hair at her
nape, caught the back of her neck, and slowly drew her to him. She felt her brow crinkle in confusion, felt
the pulse at her temple, felt the heat rise in her skin, and as his face drew
nearer, her mouth went dry.
Her heart ran wild as she realized he was going to kiss her.
His gaze slid to her parted lips and up to her eyes before he slowly
closed the short distance between their mouths.
She heard his sharp intake of breath, and he pulled back abruptly, as if
the touch of her lips had seared his.
Her eyes flutteredn, an, and met his dark, bewildered gaze.
“Gris,” she whispered helplessly.
H'>His hand fisted into her hair and his mouth found hers again, insistent
and demanding now. He slanted his head
and increased the pressure of his mouth, forcing her lips to part, and she
moaned when his tongue pushed past them and touched hers.

Gil felt her gasp even as he heard it, and it fueled his passion. He’d always suspected it would be explosive
between them, but never had a kiss tested his control so immediately and
completely. Lust coiled and tined ned in
his gut, and when her hand glided up his chest and clutched the side of his
neck, he drew the length of her body to his.
She came alive in his arms, wildly responding to his kiss. His hand, trembling with need, slipped under
her sweater, smoothed the soft skin of her back, but it only made him want
more. Deliberately, he grasped her hip
and pulled her tighter, welding her against him, letting her feel the force of
his desire for her. She moaned and moved
against him, the pressure of her pelvis against him was exquisite torture. Gil growled low in his throat, and broke the
kiss before he lost all control.
Her body sagged against his and she buried her face in his neck. He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to
bring his breathing and his heartbeat under control. When he felt her lips nipping at the
sensitive skin of his neck, he shuddered and nudged her gently. “Sara, don’t.
If we don’t stop now…” He let his
voice trail off, but his meaning was clear.
He rolled onto his back, and Sara laid her head on his shoulder, her
chest heaving in time with his own and her heart slamming at her ribs. He’d just given her a brief taste of him,
and…wow! But her body ached for more; in
fact she couldn’t remember a kiss arousing her quite this strongly. Her nipples were straining so hard against
the soft confines of her bra, it was painful.
She was drenched, and the empty ache between her legs demanded to be
filled. Grissom had made her as aware of
his arousal as she was of her own, and her body hungered for the sizeable
erection he’d pressed against her.
“Gris…I don’t want to stop.”
She sas Ads Adam’s apple move as he swallowed, and she wanted to press
her lips to it.
“We must…for now,” he said gruffly.
“Why?” she asked softly, propping herself up to look at him.
“Because I am conflicted,” he
rasped out, the harshness of his tone betraying his emotional struggle. Reg>Regret immediately entered his eyes. He sighed.
“Sara, please understand. I have
some issues to work through before I can…take this further.”
Something snappesideside of her, and burst into anger so harsh and
violent, she needed to get away from him.
She scrambled to her feet, and put as much distance between them as the
cave allowed. But when she spoke, her
voice was utterly calm and unemotional.
“How long?” she asked.
“How long?”
She faced him. “How long before you figure this
out? Tell me. How long do you want me to wait,
Grissom? Another year,
two…what?”
He ’t a’t answer.
“Right, I almost forgot,” she continued, wishing she didn’t sound so
snappish all of a sudden. “You can’t
risk everything you’ve worked for, for me.
I got that message, loud and clear.
I’ve accepted it.” She li her her
arms and let them fall in frustration. “So why the seduction?
Do you get some sort of perverse pleasure out of hurting me?”
She saw him flinch. Even through
the darkness, she recognized his reaction to her verbal slap. His mouth dropped open, and then closed, and
his eyes fell in stunned silence.
“I heard what you said to Lurie. I was in the obatioation room.” His head snapped up. Sara smiled faintly as sorrow poured out of
her heart into her voice. “I got it,
Grissom. I didn’t need this little
experiment to tell me we have chemistry.
I know how you feel.”
“Do you? Come here, Sara.”
She was so surprised by his commanding tone that it didn’t occur to her
to disobey. She sat on the edge of the
platform and waited for him to speak.
He regarded her pensively. “It’s
true. We have chemistry. It’s…explosive between us. I’veer fer felt it quite like this. And it’s exciting and frightening at the same
time.” He paused, and dropped his chin,
exhaling softly. “I’ve been fighting it
for a long time.”
She saw a shadow of regret cross his face, and heard it in his
voice. It felt like an apology. And it softened her.
“Yes.”
Her heart stopped, and her head spun around as she looked for
confirmation that she’d heard correctly, but she couldn’t read him. She sank slowly back to the ground. “You…you love me?”
He winced. “I do,” he snarled,
and Sara wondered which annoyed him most:
that he did, or that he’d admitted it.
His joyless expression was sobering.
Still, she smiled. “You could try
sounding more pleased about it.”
He sent her a wry look. “I’m
not,” he said bluntly.
She didn’t even think he realized how hurtful his words were. Her throat constricted painfully and she
averted her eyes. She’d dreamed of this moment
for so long, it should have made her deliriously happy. Instead, a lead weight settled in the pit of
her stomach. Nothing had changed. The only difference between now and an hour
ago was that he’d admitted to having feelings for her. But that didn’t really come as a
surprise. She’d suspected it for a
while, had been almost certain of it after witnessing his interrogation of Lurie. The only
thing unexpected about it was his admitting it; give with one breath, take away
with the other. He was still making it
clear that he didn’t intend to do anything about them.
Nothing had changed.
“Fine, then don’t.” The harsh
tone in her voice should have shocked her, but it didn’t. “Sara—“
“Let’s get some sleep, Grissom,” she said wearily. She was tired of fighting this losing
battle.

1'>1:45 p.m.Gil woke with a start and checked his
watch. He was surprised that he’d been
under for a solid hour. Under the
circumstances, he hadn’t expected to sleep at all. Sara, he noticed in the faint light os
fs
flashlight, hadn’t moved a hair. But
even in her sleep she was fighting off the cool dampness of the cave.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and share his body heat with her, but
he doubted she would welcome the move. pan>
3:00 p.m.
Sara awoke from a deep sleep to the wonderful sensation of being
snuggled in the warm curve of Grissom’s body.
Sometime, while she slept, he had draped his jacket over her and wrapped
her protectively in his arms, shielding her from the damp cold and offering his
right arm as a pillow.
Her eyes fluttered open to the familiar dimness of the cave. She listened to the rhythm of his breathing
wondering if he was asleep, and then decided he must be when he moved his hand
under her top, flattened it over her bare abdomen and pressed her backward,
boldly settling his massive erection against her buttocks. Sara felt a responding ache deep in her loins,
and had to bite her lip not to moan aloud.
God he felt good.
She knew she should disentangle herself from him, wake him up, but she
couldn’t. Hoping to prolong this
blissful moment, she closed her eyes and tried to steady her erratic heartbeat,
to control her breathing and make her body go limp as it had been in sleep, but
she was coiled so tight with arousal, she had to fight the urge to thrust her
bottom up and grind it against him.
Then his hand moved, slowly and smoothly up, and she inhaled sharply as
he teased the underside of one breast with his thumb.
“Sleep well?” he asked, his voice deep and soft, a mere whisper against
her ear that sent a gentle tingle up her spine.
“Mmm,” she murmured. For a moment, she wondered why he wasn’t
moving away, and then realized that his voice had held none of the drowsy
quality of someone just waking up. He’d
been awake all along, had known that she was as well or he wouldn’t have
touched her—
“Warm enough?”
“Yes, very—“ she started in response, and then
gasped when his hand smoothed down over her belly to the waistband of her jeans
and he slipped the tip of his fingers inside.
She went very still. “Gris…”
He brushed his mouth over her cheekbone to her temple, and then brought
his lips to her ear. “Do you want me to
stop?”
Sara lowelowed hard; her heart was beating at such an insane pace, it
was a wonder she could still breathe.
“Don’t…don’t start something you have no intention of finishing,” she
managed to choke out.
“Okay,” he whispered, and surprised her again when he unbuttoned her jeans
and slowly lowered her zipper. A quick,
sharp sigh of pleasure erupted from her throat when he slipped his hand inside
her underwear and started gently stroking her with experimental fingers,
seeking and finding her most sensitive spot, circling her, and aing ing
pressure and releasing it in a deliberate rhythm that was slowly driving her mad. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Mmmm…don’t…stop,” she replied weakly, her
breath coming in short gasps now awhirwhirlpool of heat erupted in her
loins. She lifted her arm over his and
gripped his thigh, digging her fingers into it through the rough fabric of his
jeans, and tugging him impatiently forward as she thrust her hips back and
shamelessly ground them into him.
“I won’t, ah…Sara,” he groaned, his own breathing coming quicker and
harsher now. He slid her pants down
lower over her hips with an urgent hand, and slipped a long finger inside of
her in time with a strong, upward thrust of his pelvis on her bare buttocks. “This is not how I’d envisioned our first
time,” he growled.
Had she been capable of thought, Sara would have reveled in the fact
that he’d fantasized about making love to her, but her brain was
single-mindedly focused on the pressing need of her body to be fulfilled. And in that single-mindedness, she pleaded
once again for him not to stop.
Grissom chuckled softly. “I
won’t, sweetheart.”
She moved against his hand, barely aware of her whimpers as the
sensations he created with his fingers and the suggestive thrust of his hips
ignited a desire in her so hot angentgent she thought she would go insane if he
didn’t fill her soon.
Her head was still nestled in the circle of rig right arm, but he
shifted a little and slipped his hand under her jacket to cup a breast. He rasped his thumb over a sensitive nipple
and Sara bucked, her body twisting restlessly against his bigger, harder frame
which still cocooned her, holding her in his heat. It was almost too much, his hand on her
breast, the other between her legs, his rigid shaft pushing against her in time
with the thrust of his finger, his ragged breaths mixing with her own fast ones
in the hollow silence of the cave. It
was intense pleasure and torture all at once.
And then he swept her hair back from her neck with his chin and opened
his mouth to the sensitive flesh just above her collarbone. He sucked and tasted her gently before he
closed his lips over her skin and trailed ardent kisses up her throat to her
jaw.
Love mixed with lust in a heady cocktail of sensations that left her
slightly dizzy.
“Gris—“ she gasped, “Gris…I need—“
“What do you need, Sara?” he asked in a rough whisper.
“You.”
He let out a quick, ragged breath and his hand left her mound to free
his throbbing flesh from his pants. She heard
the quick rasp of his zipper, felt him shift behind her as he lowered his pants
over his hips, and she quickly pushed at her boots with her feet, knocking them
off, and then thrashed her legs to divest them of her jeans, baring herself to
him from the waist down.
Their movements were hurried, and in no time the thick head of his shaft
was stretching her opening from behind—not the best position for deep
penetration, but Sara was too aroused and greedy to care. She moved against him recklessly, the need to
soothe the ache between her legs too urgent to worry about romance, or dignity,
or what the rough planks of the platform were doing to her skin.
He cursed when he fell out of her under her frantic thrashing, and in
one swift movement, he shuffled to his knees, shrugged off of his jacket and
spread it haphazardly onto the planks.
He then lifted her up in his lap, gripped her hips, and impaled himself
into her moist center to the hilt.
Sara inhaled sharply as the sheer size of him stretched her inner
muscles to their limit.
“Are you okay?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Oh, yeah,” she answered, offering him a sweet smile of satisfaction.
His lips twitched and he covered her mouth with his, and kissed her
hard, and deep, pouring his passion into her mouth as he wrapped his arm around
her and lowered her to the silky lining of his jacket. He braced himself over her and thrust deeply
into her tight, welcoming wet body, each long stroke of his shaft colliding
with her womb. Sara clung to him, her
every sense and nerve ending aware of him, his scent, the sound of every harsh
breath he took, the feel of his skin against her own, the glint of passion in
his eyes as he looked at her, and then, he dipped his head and invaded her
mouth with his tongue, and enlyenly it was too much; she cried out as the
intense build-up of passion and desire erupted in a hot flood of
sensations. Her inner muscles contracted
and gripped him as her climax consumed her body and mind and heart, and sent a
sting of tears to her eyes.
“Honey—“ Grissom started, but then she heard his breath catch and he
uttered a deep guttural sound as he found his own release and his powerful,
damp body shook violently against her.
Afterwards, he held her and kissed her tenderly, and then deeply, as if
their passion had not just been spent.
And then, he rested his forehead against hers. “God, Sara—“ He cut himself off and shook his head.
“Please don’t say this was a mistake,” she pleaded.
He looked at her sharply and his heart ached when he saw the brightness
of tears in her eyes. “Honey, no;
never,” he said in a rush, and then his lips curved into a smile as he took his
weight off her and pulled up his pants.
“In fact, I wish there were someone I could thank for trapping us here.”

“You’re not conflicted anymore, Grissom?”
“I will be if you don’t start calling me Gil.”
She smiled; that special smile of hers he’d often imagined she reserved
for him. After all these years, it still
managed to take his breath away. He
watched her as she scrambled to her feet, gathered her clothes and shook the
dust from them. He admired her partial
nudity, feasted his gaze on her long, shapely legs and her cute, firm behind,
and was shocked to feel the stirrings of arousal again.
She dressed quickly and picked up his jacket from the floor. She examined the interior lining before
returning it to him. “I hope you have a
diet det dry-cleaner,” she teased.
He sent her a wry glance and picked up his flashlight to look at it
closely. He grinned. “A souvenir.”
“A semen stain,” she stated incredulously.
He shrugged as she sat back against the wall next to him. He cocked his head, leaning in towards
her. “From our first
time.”
Sara looked at him pensively. Gil
knew she was a little confused by the turn of events, and there were still a
great many things that had not been said, but he didn’t quite know where to
start. Alis wis was new to him, as it
was to her, and though he was no longer in the dark about what he wanted, he
wondered if Sara still knew what she wanted.
He stood and went to her kit for the bottle of water. He offered it to her first, and she sipped at
it and gave it back to him. Gil took a
long swallow and slowly screwed the cap back on.
He cleared his throat and looked at her.
“Time to get serious?” he asked her softly.
- 1
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A Moment of CtyuOty