Swathed

Title: Swathed
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: M
Summary: "You don't want me seeing anyone, and I suppose that's fine." Grissom paused and smiled to himself. "Because I don't want you seeing anyone."
Thank you: Sheila
Notes: This fic is for the luverly ckofshadows. She's awesome. Nuff said.

Twelve thirty-seven on a Wednesday night. To anyone else, it would have been a Saturday morning. Sara was swathed in a long, well-worn terry cloth robe. The swirling orange and red weren’t very attractive, but the thing was so comfortable that she really didn't care. It wasn't as if anyone were likely to see it anyhow.

Blue slippers in place, she shuffled into the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand, and sat down at the table to sort through her mail. Bill, bill, junk mail, bill, the newest National Geographic, and an order form for a forensics textbook. She answered one of those mail in surveys and she was on their list for life.

A long draw on her coffee had her blinking some more of the sleep from her eyes. Flipping open the magazine, she began to page through it. A yawn escaped her and she took another long pull of her coffee, realizing that she genuinely wanted nothing more than to spend the entire day in bed.

Sara worked out the muscles of her neck, closed the magazine and stood, yawning. Picking up her cup, she brushed wayward strands of hair from her face, and began to shuffle back towards her bedroom. A few knocks at the door caused her to halt and turn, the coffee sloshing against the side of the oversized mug.

Her slippers scratched against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the door. She wasn't in the mood for visitors but wasn't about to ignore them either. Finally reaching the door, the last threads of sleep filtering from her mind, she took a quick glance through the peephole.

The door swing open to one of the only people who would chance stopping by at such an hour; Gil Grissom dressed rather suavely, stood before her, smiling gently, standing with his hands deep in his pockets.

"I hate to say this," Sara began, smiling, shocked to find that she didn't feel awkward in the situation, "But if you're here to tell me I have to come in, I might have to vehemently decline."

He raised an interested brow and stood there.

Sara smiled a tad brighter and brought her coffee to her lips. "Really, I forgot how great sleep can be."

Grissom nodded and looked off down the hall. Sara could distinctly tell that he was pondering something. What it was, however, she couldn't discern. No one could. Looking back at her, he glanced inside her apartment. "Would you mind if I came in for a bit?"

The answering sweep of her arm was all he needed to know, and slowly, he stepped inside her home. "Thank you."

Sara nodded and backed off towards the kitchen, throwing a casual, "Coffee?" over her shoulder. Grissom grunted a noncommittal grunt that she simply took to mean a 'yes'. Sara grabbed another large mug and poured out a ration of black liquid.

Bringing it to him, Sara gestured to the couch, urging him to sit down. He did, coffee in hand and watched as she moved to the chair and brought her legs up under her. "So what's going on?"

A month before, Grissom being in her apartment would have been slightly odd and more than a bit uncomfortable. Now it was simply strange. "So, what's up?"

Grissom blew on his coffee, took a quick gulp and looked at her. "I went on a date tonight," he said and watched her flinch and hide her face behind her mug. "And the woman... simply put, was stunning." Grissom placed his beverage down on the table before him. "And smart, and interested in what I had to say. She was younger, younger than you and charming."

Sara gulped, pretending the nonchalance she was so used to displaying. "So it went well..."

"I left an hour after I had arrived at the restaurant," Grissom stated and toyed with the handle of his cup. "An hour."

Her face still behind her cup, a murmur came, "Sorry to hear that."

"No you're not," he said immediately and sat back on the sofa, clasping his hands in his lap. "You don't want me seeing anyone, and I suppose that's fine." Grissom paused and smiled to himself. "Because I don't want you seeing anyone."

"Right," Sara said and began stroking the side of the porcelain mug as if it were a kitten. "Right. Because all you think about is how good it could be *until it's over* and all I think about is what it would be like before it's over.” Grissom nodded at her, as if to assure her that he understood her line of reasoning.

"But you don't seem to understand that I don't want to think about when it's over. Because I'm not scared of the long-run... and you are."

"Excuse me?" There was still a slight quirk to his lips. It was the look he got when he had something to say, something naughty or inappropriate or quirky, but wouldn't say it.

"You're scared that maybe, once something happens, it could last forever. And you don't know how to handle that."
She was right, of course, and could see by the reaction his face betrayed that hitting so close to home had taken a toll on him.

Grissom smiled some more, shook his head. "I don't..."

"And *I* think that *you* think that you're going to figure it all out tonight." Sara grinned at him, allowed the tension to float away. "Am I even close?"

"You might be."

Polishing off the last of her drink, she placed the mug down on the table with a dull 'thunk.' "Ever wonder why you didn't talk about this before?" He didn't answer her, so she stretched and twisted her body. "Why you over-think things like this?"

A heavy sigh came from deep within his lungs and his eyes slipped closed. "I know. I know."

"You don't think you should be happy? I don't understand."

A few blinks were her answer and Sara simply smiled gently at him and tucked her hands between her stomach and thighs. "I understand you and then I don't. I like that."

That earned a real smile from him, no holding back.

Sara continued with her half-assed evaluation of him. "And you don't like losing control and you think you will, or I won't like it... or that it won't work if you do..." She shrugged and settled in a bit more. "But that's what it's all about, isn't it?"

"...I don't know." Grissom glanced to his shoes and then back at Sara. "Is it strange that we're having this discussion the way we are?"

A shake of her head and a chuckle came from his right side. "No, I'm pretty sure this is the only way we could talk about it."

And before thinking, before moving, before anything, he spoke, "I want to kiss you."

That had her uncurling herself, legs slipping over the edge of the chair, feet bypassing the slippers to land on the floor. "That's a step in the right direction," she murmured.

"What direction?" he rasped, watching as she stood and stretched.

"Getting me to bed," Sara said and walked over to him, stepped over his legs and straddled his lap. She stood there, smiling down at him in that hideous robe, waiting for him to make a move. He did, after a moment, sliding his hands over her hips and pulling her down on top of him.

A little laugh escaped as his hands smoothed over the terrycloth, sitting her down on his thighs. And then they just looked at each other, heads cocked, gazes amused and gentle. "Gonna kiss me now?"

"Mmm hmm," and he made good on his word, bringing her face down to him with a hand on the back of her neck.
They nuzzled noses for a moment before bringing their lips together.

It was chaste and sweet and slow, but all that went out the window when she sighed against him and he opened his mouth and his tongue met hers. Kissing while smiling, that was a task, but Sara gladly accepted, twining her arms around his neck and settling down for the long haul. Her fingers skimmed in his hair, tugging here and there, simply because she could.

His fingers tickled under her robe, passing over the bare skin between pants and shirt, tracing at her lower back, right over her spine. That caused her body to shiver a tad and shift down on him more. It was nothing about touch and kiss, feel and forget. "S'good," she whispered as her lips touched over the skin of his neck. "S'good."

"Mmm hmm," was his reply as he clutched his hands in her hair and held her there. Kisses went on for awhile, tongues seeking and stroking, mouths mumbling and pecking and sucking. And when his hand dipped down at her hip, under the waistband of her pants, she suggested they move to the bedroom.

They fumbled their way there; she had to stop at one point to push him up against the wall and taste the swell of his cheek before continuing.

In the bedroom, the sheets were already askew, having been well-slept in. His hands were on her his hips and hers on his. "Did we resolve any of this, really?" he asked, not looking for an answer, just wanting to undress her.

Sara laughed and slithered her hands around to grasp his backside. "I don't care."

His hands were on her shoulders then, and though she was clawing at his back, trying to just a fraction of an inch closer, he pushed her back onto the bed. She landed with a bounce, but was immediately into a sitting position, clawing at his belt, tearing it away from his body. "Think she would have undressed you like this?" Sara quipped as she worked on the button of his pants.

Grissom gazed down at her, one hand on her hair, tousling it. "I wouldn't have let her."

That made her happy, that made her overwhelmingly happy and she shoved the pants down his legs, leaving him to deal with the shoes and the socks. Sara, well, she sat back and watched it all, watched him almost fall, tearing off his shoes, tossing them behind him.

"You good?" she asked a bit flippantly, and he stalked over to her and loomed there, above her.

"No... my shirt."

"Oh!" and she went to work on that, plucking the buttons from the holes one by one.
When it was unbuttoned, she shoved it back and he helped her by shrugging down. Sara tore at the tee-shirt he wore below, nearly giving him fabric burn, she pulled it up so hard. "Whoa, sorry."

Grissom stopped and smiled, plucked the shirt from her hand. "It's okay, it's only *skin*." She smiled and put a hand on his naked chest. 'Smooth,' she thought, and then grabbed his biceps, pulled him to her as she leaned back and laid out across the bed.

It was his turn to get slightly violent, shucking the robe from her with force, grasping her shirt and ripping it off above her head. She was braless, and the only thing he thought about in that moment was that it was one less thing he would have to remove for her to be naked. Her pants were last and seeing as much, he took her panties down her legs right along with the flannel pajamas.

Grissom didn't growl, didn't say anything, just admired her in the incredibly dim light. And Sara, she just laid there and let him look at her, have his fill. The only sign that he was affected, the only thing that changed, was that his wrist twitched as his eyes raked up and down and back up again.

A twitch of her eyebrow and the frozen moment melted and he shoved his boxers down and kicked them off. His actions were jerky and Sara smiled, swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape. He was on top of her, flesh to flesh, his erection nestled in the fur between her thighs. "Okay?"

Sara nodded and wriggled her hips, "Yeah, yes."

"Okay," he said and slipped inside her without notice.

Sara gasped and her hips bucked up of their own accord. "Je-I, fah..." Hands at his biceps squeezed, realized and moved down, to his hips and dug her nails in, deep.

"Sara!" And she wasn't sure if it was a reprimand or a plea. So instead of asking, she brought one hand up and latched onto the back of his head, brought him down for a kiss as she thrust up as hard as was possible. Sara gasped, laughed, bit her lip and groaned, swiveling her hips against him, pressing his cock deeper.

They were looking at each other, each thrust coming, causing no change in their gazes. He pressed forward each time, hard and she bit her lip and stayed silent, watching his emotion etch their way on and off of his face. "Love you," he uttered, his voice stuttering from his thrusting.

"Yeah?" she asked, gasping, lifting up to meet him.

"Mmm, yeah."

Sara tried to laugh but there wasn't enough breath in her lungs. So she settled for simply smiling, "Yeah? Well, not hard enough... if you loved me, you'd... damn!" But he caught on before she could say it and fucked her harder.

It was long minutes full of gasps and swearing to God and no one before they both came, sated and bruised and broken... but born again.

Grissom lay to her right and she lay to his left and both stared at the ceiling, clutching flimsy sheets to their chests, inhaling air that was tinged with the sweet scent of their combined sweat. "I am so awake right now," Sara breathed and looked over at him.

Grissom nodded. "Me too." They both went back to staring at the ceiling.

After a moment or two, Grissom rolled over and got out of the bed and went in search of his pants. Sara watched as he walked around, naked ass still visible in the dark of the room. She smiled, "Where are you going?"

"I need to shower," and before she could insist on him showering there, "And I need time to process that, what just happened." Her face fell. "But I'll be back in a few hours and you can take me out on a date."

"Excuse me?" she asked, perplexed but grinning.

Grissom grinned at her over his shoulder as he fastened his pants. "Only fair after you took advantage of me." And that set her off laughing, cackling, falling back on her pillow.

"Yeah, okay," Sara quipped sarcastically though really, she was tickled some sort of dark pink.

"No, really, I'll be back here and you can take me out."

Sara nodded and watched as he pulled his shirt back on and smoothed out his hair. As a parting token he moved over to the bed and brushed a kiss across her lips. "Two hours," he whispered and made his way to her bedroom door. "And burn that robe!"

The dark corners of her room could not steal Sara away from the light-heartedness that she felt as she tried to think of a place suitable for Grissom and their first date.