Title: Blinded
Rating: PG
Pairing: GSR, G/H friendship.
Spoilers: Anything up to episode 905, Leave Out All the Rest.
Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, angst would be a foreign concept to the characters.
A/N: This is my sleep deprived, un-betaed attempt at making me (and you) feel better. It was cathartic to write and I now can breathe easier and await my happy ending.
( My heart is on a boat at sea below the Equator )
Pairing/Rating: GSR, Mature for dark subject matter.
Spoiler: Up to Sara's departure
A/N: Warning: This is A/U and OOC and dark and might be upsetting to some. I blame the muse for it. Since she hasn't been around much, I can hardly deny her anything...I hope it'll appeal to at least a few twisted minds out there.
Grissom poured himself another glass of brandy. Resisting the urge to down it, he took a few sips and slumped in the leather chair. Somewhere in the recess of his mind he heard a sigh that he knew to be Hank's. If a dog could express disappointment, then the old faithful boxer had mastered the art.
A faint whisper of the pounding that was to come began against his temples but he didn't care. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic but he'd definitely taken up drinking as a hobby since Sara left. Not that "leaving" was the right term; that gave the impression that it was a choice. He hadn't given her any choice, he knew that. His actions had been responsible for her departure and for the rest of his life he'd have to live with that.
Drinking invariably brought him to ponder the events of that night. Maybe that's why he did drink, so he wouldn't forget that it was his fault. He would go through it all, sometimes trying to convince himself that he could have changed the outcome, sometimes trying to convince himself that he couldn't have. What if he hadn't gone after her at the airport? What if he hadn't tried to play psychiatrist? What if he'd just accepted that she needed to get away, even if it meant that he'd lose her for good? He lost her anyway. But maybe if he'd respected her wishes, he'd have a chance of getting her back.
Gil Grissom had become a shadow of his former self. A lonely and bitter man with a dog as sole life companion. When the phone rang, the last person he expected it to be was Sara Sidle.
It took his hazed mind a while to process the ringing filling the room. When he finally answered the phone, the husky tone that replied to his greeting sobered him up.
"Who...who is this?" The questions sounded dumb even to himself but he couldn't help it.
"Gil!" Her tone was indignant yet playful.
She laughed softly and he clasped the phone with a pressure that made his knuckles turn white. He'd convinced himself that he'd never hear that laugh again. And even now, he wasn't so sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"Sara," he choked on her name, fighting back tears, "how...why-"
"How? You're a scientist, you figure it out." He could practically see that lopsided grin of hers. "Why? Well, it's about damn time. Don't you think?"
"It's been months, since..." He took a few deep breaths, trying to stop the shaking that had taken over his whole body.
He tried to convey his thoughts and feelings but his words came out in a jumble. "After...That day...What I did...I waited for any signs...I knew I'd lost you."
"Gil, it's okay." Her voice was so calm and peaceful next to the near hysteria of his. "I was just waiting for the right moment. I needed time to settle here and just think about...everything."
There was static on the line and Grissom held his breath, afraid to lose the connection. There was a long pause that made him believe that maybe he was dreaming the whole conversation after all but then her distinctive voice made itself heard again.
"We can't undo the past, but we also can't pretend nothing happened." She stopped, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts. "What you did was wrong. Obviously we both know that...But I've had a lot of time to think and I forgive you. And most importantly you need to forgive yourself."
"How?" He didn't try to deny that tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. "How can I forgive myself Sara? No matter what, I know we'll never be together-"
"You don't know that," she interrupted, "you just need to own up to what you did. You need to be honest with yourself, with me...And then maybe one day we'll find each other again."
"Maybe I can come find you. Sara, wherever you are, just tell me how." He was begging now, something he never thought he would do. His eyes searched his townhouse, not really knowing what he was looking for. He'd thought of leaving everything to go find Sara more than once but he lacked the guts to go through with it. What about the team? What about the life he'd built for himself? Could he leave it all behind?
"Don't even think about it. It wouldn't make anything better...Just don't." She sounded sad, defeated. "What about Hank? What would you do with him?"
"I don't know...Bring him along?" He regretted the words as soon as they came out. "No, no. I mean I'm sure I could find someone to look after him."
"No matter what you do, you might have to find someone else to care for him anyway...But you belong there, I don't need you here." He knew Sara hadn't meant to hurt him but it was still hard to hear. "I have my mom, I have friends. Really, I'm fine." Her voice had regained a soothing tone. "It was just very important that you knew that I forgive you."
"What do I tell the guys? They still expect you to come back." Of course he knew the answer. In some twisted way, he just needed her to validate it.
"You tell the truth, Gil."
"And it will set me free?" He had to laugh at the irony of that statement.
"In any way that matters, yes it will."
The call was disconnected, leaving Gil Grissom with a definite knowledge of what he had to do.
****
It was later that night, after claiming a conversation with his deceased fiancée that Gil Grissom turned himself in for her murder.
Rating: Teen
A/N: Written for the prompts "change, shift and twist" at
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multi_fiction.Rating: Teen
A/N: Written for lastficstanding. I don't even know how to summarize this story. A little A/U story with some fluff and angst.
( The big picture. )
Title: The Letter
Rating: Teen
A/N: This takes place after Sara's departure. Sara-centric.
( The Letter )
Rating: Teen
A/N: Yet another one of those "how they got together" story.
Title: As I Lay Me Down to Sleep
Rating: Teen
A/N: Written after Living Doll, Sara-centric.
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doom_cherries.( Part 3 )
( Part 4 )
Rating: PG
A/N: Written in collaboration with the incomparable
doom_cherries, this was probably the most fun I've ever had writing anything. Writing with such a talented author was an amazing experience. Kristen, you rock my world!( Part 1 )
Title: Wish
Rating: NC 17/ Smut
A/N: Another one of those "first time" story. My favorite kind.
Rating: Teen
A/N: Grissom said in Spellbound that he'd been to a psychic. My muse sat on that for months and this is what she came up with.
Rating: NC 17, smut.
A/N: Grissom takes Sara on a picnic and brings the expression "eating out" to a whole new level.
The rays of light coming through the trees illuminated her skin as she brought a piece of watermelon to her lips. She looked up at him, her brown eyes sparkling as she graced him with a smile; he was rendered momentarily speechless by her beauty.
She playfully tapped him on the chin to close his mouth, her cheeks pinked by blush, “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” he said bringing her hand to his lips.
“Staring!”
Even now, after months of being lovers, she often felt flustered under the heat of his gaze. She’d never had anyone observed her so intensely, never seen so much love reflected in a simple look.
As he nibbled gently on the tip of her fingers, she watched the irises of his eyes darken; she knew that look. The hunger she saw in there was enough to make goose bumps to appear on her arms and her nipples to tighten underneath the lace of her bra.
Her body’s reaction was obvious to him as he mapped out the silhouette of her breasts under the thin blouse; he slowly rolled his tongue over her index finger before relinquishing it to lean into her lips, tasting the sweetness of the watermelon in a chaste kiss. His lips soon parted to invite her tongue to nestle in a passionate embrace.
One hand cradled her head while the other one pushed away the picnic basket as he laid her out on the plaid blanket. The sun touched her hair to form a golden halo and she looked downright angelic under his sinful touch.
“This isn’t…what I had…in mind - ,” she panted between kisses, “when you said...we needed to get outside more.”
“But it’s exactly what I had in mind,” he breathed, releasing her swollen lips to nuzzle in the crook of her neck. “You spread out on a blanket, now that’s what I call a picnic.”
The husky tone in his voice made her breath catch. It wasn’t the first time she’d been caught off guard by the depth of his passion; he’d surprised her with a spontaneity that had led to unimaginable pleasures. It could be that he was making up for the years they’d lost, or maybe it just was about fulfilling old fantasies, but either way she was more than happy to oblige. She’d never felt so desired, so loved in all her life.
He kissed his way down her chest, undoing the buttons of her blouse as he licked every inch of uncovered skin. He knew the enticing sweet and salty tang of her warm body as she lay underneath him would remind him of summer afternoons for as long as he lived.
The red bra peeking out of her shirt contrasted with the milky tone of her skin and the colors of the forest surrounding them. Enthralled, Grissom watched as her breasts strained against the crimson lace and her breath quickened in anticipation. He hovered over her slight form, his movement stilled, afraid that by touching her he might somehow break the magic of the moment.
Sara looked up from under heavy lids, seeking his gaze in a silent invitation to touch her.
With a reverence only reserved for her, he placed his strong hands on the pliant skin of her stomach, slowly caressing his way up to the cleavage of her breasts. With torturous delicateness he pushed the red material aside and cupped the soft mounds of flesh. Her head rolled back in a guttural cry as he pinched the pert nipples between his fingers. His mouth followed suit as he devoured the peaks with an insatiable need. Her hips raised in response, grinding against his bulge in a delicious agony.
She was a magnificent goddess coming alive under his touch, once the fruit he had forbidden himself, she was his solace. He wanted nothing more than to show her how much he loved her. She was life’s greatest gift to him, and with each caress he promised to cherish her for the rest of his life.
He relished the subdued moans emerging from the depth of her throat as she twisted underneath him in a futile attempt to rid herself of her pants. He was never as turned on than when he was able to bring her to such a state of carefree abandonment.
Her eyes never wavered from his, her lips twitching in a silent plea, as she watched him reach for the zipper of her jeans. Her stomach fluttered with anticipation and she could feel her heartbeat accelerate as he brought it down in a painfully slow gesture, the distinctive noise briefly merging with the chirping of birds. In one swift movement he liberated her from her denim confinement and she encircled him with the length of her legs.
His hands wandered over her body, rubbing circles on her skin in an erotic massage before resuming their position on her upper thighs. He fingered the edge of the lacy thong, the sole barrier between him and his feast, as his fingers skimmed over her most sensitive parts.
“Take it off,” she pleaded, her hands coming down to tug at the flimsy material.
He motioned for her to lift her hips, grazing her thighs with the lacy fabric as he slid the red garment off, tossing it aside to join her discarded pants.
Grissom sat back on his heals to admire the perfect femininity of her nude body, her curved flesh flushed with desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
Her body trembled under the intensity of his gaze and with barely a hint of his touch, her legs fell open. Her hands came to rest on his head, and her fingers entangled in his hair as he delved into her core, clinging to her like a bee to a flower.
She unleashed a series of moans as he rolled his tongue against her delicate flesh, his mouth caressing her with an intimate knowledge that never ceased to amaze her.
She moved wildly underneath the boldness of his mouth, her spine arching with each probe of his tongue, her cries becoming louder with each passing minute.
She tightened the grip on his head, her nails digging in his scalp as his mouth closed over her fleshy nub, a shot of immeasurable pleasure ran through her whole being. She held his head firmly to her center, rotating her pelvis erratically, aching for release.
She gasped as she felt the thickness of two fingers deep within her, releasing her breath only as he started thrusting them in a slow and deliberate motion. The pace of his thrusts in sync with the relentlessness of his mouth was almost too much for her to bear.
Grissom listened with awe to her increasingly ragged breaths. Relinquishing the apex of her lower lips with one last swipe of his tongue, he kept his fingers pressed against her most sensitive spot as he felt her muscles clamp around his fingers. Her chest rose with the spasms of her climax and he couldn’t help but kiss the fine sheen of sweat gathered there. He licked his way up, pausing briefly at the hollow of her throat before claiming her lips, sharing her musky essence in a deep kiss.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment in a silent declaration of their love; the rhythmic pattern of their heavy breathing slowly giving way to the natural sounds of the forest.
Sara looked at him, eyebrows raised. “That was…definitely more exciting than what I had in mind,” she uttered in a lazy voice. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts.”
He lay beside her, bringing the blanket around them as he felt slight shivers overcome her body. “My pleasure.” He smiled at her, stealing another taste of her lips before laying his head carefully on her shoulder.
His gaze roamed over her delicate features, catching sight of the picnic basket in the corner of his eyes. He nodded towards the container. “Are you still hungry?”
She feigned a look behind her, stroking his disheveled hair. “I’m pretty sure that what I’m craving right now can’t be found in a picnic basket.”
Rating: Teen
A/N: Written when I was going through a bout of insomnia myself. Sara-centric. This story holds a special place in my heart.
