Twist of Lime, Coke on the Side

Title: Twist of Lime, Coke on the Side
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: NC-17... mmm hmmm.
For: AGAIN! For the one and the only, wonderous, fabulous icon maker hadria. Yeah. She's amazing. You all know it. >
Thanks: Marlou again, I think Kirsten and Lauren and of course, Kay... who's a whore.
Points: To those who can place the TV Show and the character the title refers to... kinda...


It was a miracle, it had to be. Grissom's team had been returned to normal much to his surprise. He hadn't actually thought that Ecklie would budge on that but had given it a shot. Nick's recovery had taken time, but he'd made it through alright and kept saying that he was simply a stronger person for the ordeal he had to endure.

Everyone, including bossman, had thought it was a wonderful idea when Catherine suggested everyone get drinks after their first shift back together. Smiles abounded and a time and place was set and they all departed to get ready for their outing.

Grissom bought the first round at everyone's goading, ordering a few pitchers of beer and eight shots of Cuervo Gold as Brass and Hodges had both been invited to come and had accepted. It was like old times, but better because everyone was smiling and laughing and enjoying being away from work, together.

Apprehension and awkwardness had been assuaged as soon as Greg had cracked a joke, sending Warrick into a fit of laughter so severe he ended up choking on his beer. That had set everyone off, even Catherine who had begun to smack Warrick helplessly on the back.

Stories abounded after that, between humorous screw ups at crime scenes (some which Grissom hadn't yet heard, much like Sara's spontaneous combustion theory) and strange occurrences (such as Brass's recount of his supposed haunted apartment back in Jersey).

Before long, inebriation had set in amongst the group, faces pinkened by the alcohol, laughter flowing much easier than it had at the outset of the evening. The group was three rounds in, Brass had bought the second, Nick the third, leaving the women to buy the beer. Both Sara and Catherine were impressing everyone with the ease with which they swallowed their tequila and sucked on their limes.

Grissom stole glances at Sara surreptitiously, feeling rather hot under the collar when he watched her lick the salt from the side of her palm. And what with the way she took the lime into her mouth he couldn't help thinking of her tongue wrapping around his. He tore his eyes away but they flitted back to her from time to time as if she were being so damned sexy on purpose.

Eventually, the conversation had dissolved to discussing what everyone had thought of their coworkers the first time they met. Catherine laughed while describing her view of Nick; she'd thought he was the suave player type, which in fact Warrick turned out to be. "I'm not a player!" Warrick exclaimed over the rim of his beer to much laughter.

"And I'm kind of embarrassed to admit that I thought Gil was gay," she said, pointing to Grissom with a thumb. Sara spit out her beer she was so shocked and Greg's eyes went wide before he began chuckling. "I did too," Hodges said, voice serious, eyes wide at finding out Grissom was actually straight.

Grissom smiled at the happenings and merely shrugged, looking over at the newest member of their group. "That's alright, Hodges. I thought the same of you," and he lifted his beer in a sort of salute and drained the mug as Warrick slapped him on the back for his comment.

Once their fourth round made its way to the table Catherine's hand was trailing over Warrick's and she had begun to lean over to speak directly into his ear. Two of Hodges’ friends had arrived at the bar and he took Nick over to meet them. Greg was astounded that Hodges was actually friendly with two women... two exceedingly hot women. Greg sank back in the rounded booth and sulked into his beer, listening to the conversation taking place around him.

Grissom looked back at Sara, who was holding her shot, staring at it. She was waiting for something. His free left hand lifted, thumb and forefinger spread open, salt spread on the hollow between the fingers. Sara blinked once and sucked his flesh into her mouth, stealing the salt from his skin.

When Sara tilted her head back to down the tequila, Grissom nearly leaned forward to suck on her pulse point. The glass came away from her mouth and she chuckled at a comment Brass had made, her pink tongue coming out to clean her lips of the residual alcohol. Her hand reached down to search for her citrus wedge on the table, but when she failed to locate it, she looked up.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, Grissom was holding her slice of lime in his hand, left brow raised in invitation holding it out to her mouth. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes glistening with surprise. She brought up her hand to take it from him but he pulled it back until her hand went away and she was sitting in front of him, confused and flushed.

Again, Grissom brought the lime up in front of her, inching it closer to her lips. A few seconds passed and Sara licked her lips once more, deciding what to do. She was close enough to him to feel his body heat, to revel in his scent and all she had to do was lean forward and take the lime from him to start something. A gesture like this was not given lightly by him, it meant something.

Grissom's smile was slow in coming but untamed, and he watched her consider her options. When his lips had stopped their ascent she flitted her eyes to his and snatched the wedge out from between his fingers with her teeth. Her eyes flitted closed briefly as she sucked the juice from the fruit and swallowed.

"Things do change, don't they?" Greg sighed, missing the meaning behind his own words because he was busy watching Nick butter up one of Hodges’ women up at the bar. "For the better..." he trailed off, pouring himself another mug of Budweiser.

Grissom smiled at Greg and then turned directly back to Sara. "Yes Greg, yes they do."
---
He barely made it to the car before he kissed her. It was a soft kiss, wet and full of promise and it took her heartily by surprise. She'd expected him to do something, perhaps a hug or a quick grab of her hand, but she'd been pleasantly caught off guard by his lips landing on hers.

The intensity of his body heat, his scent and feel of his skin had her panties immediately damp. She couldn't help it and she would never know why, but the mere thought of Gil Grissom could turn her into knots. Sara wanted to crawl inside of him and soak up all of his heat, all of his passion.

Bold at finally realizing that she was *exactly* what he had needed, what he had been missing out on for most of his adult life, his hands tickled around her hips, suddenly digging into the skin there, pressing her body solidly against the driver's side door. A naughty, devilish little chuckle rose up in her throat as she tossed her head back and her hips forward.

Things were getting out of control rather quickly as Sara ground her pelvis against his hardness, causing him to moan indecently into her hair. "Fuck, jesus Sara."

She brought her head around, the alcohol rushing quickly to her head. She was panting, sweating, swiveling her hips against his, fucking him through their clothes. Her lips took assault on his cheek, her bottom one slipping over his top one, not kissing, just sliding around on his skin.

Grissom didn't know what to do; he knew the logical conclusion was to stop her and take their little party somewhere else. On the other hand, the sensations she was causing to flare up within him were just far too amazing to halt.

It was messy, what they were doing. There was simply no rhyme or reason to their movement, to their kisses. Spontaneity invaded every fiber of their beings and they embraced it (much like they were embracing each other: tightly). "We, we can't do this here," Grissom finally ground out, making it clear by the tone of his voice that they could indeed do it, just not at their present location.

"Why not," Sara rasped into his ear as her tongue slipped deftly over the crest. "Huh?"

Grissom pulled back just a bit, a bead of sweat trailing down over his temple. In a spontaneous move she leaned forward on her tip toes and licked the salty drop away. "Because," he began, "I don't want our first time to be like this, drunk and sweaty in an alley."

Sara pulled back and smiled at him. "You've given this thought."

A look of pure insanity came over his face. "Of course I've given this thought, I've given this a lot of thought." His voice was raspy and breathless as he pushed the hair away from her forehead. "I've thought of everything a hundred times, every setting, every location, every smile you could give me, I've thought of it all."

A bright grin came to her lips and she seized him behind the ears and kissed him hard, so hard that he squeaked as her lips took the assault on his. "And how does the first time go, how do you imagine it?" She asked him breathlessly, leaning back against the now semi-warm metal.

Grissom shrugged and smiled, toyed with her finger. "Assuming this is after I've worked up the courage, asked you to dinner, paid the check and gotten you safely home... you invite me up." His eyes flitted to hers for a moment and he tugged on her hand, bringing her back into his arms. "I know I shouldn't go because at this point you've sapped me of all my will power."

"Why?" Sara challenged.

"I've been watching you eat all night. We've been talking, really talking. You've been grabbing my hand over the table and I can't think of anything but finding out what you feel like under your dress."

"Like I'd wear a dress," she murmured in jest.

Grissom chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "You do in my head," he continued on, rocking her gently in his arms. She felt so small, so light, so very perfect standing there with him. "You wouldn't ask me for coffee, just invite me up, knowing that there was no need for pretense and we'd get inside your apartment and I'd just kiss you without thinking."

Sara's eyes had clouded over as she asked, "What then?"

"Then, then it's always the same, I make love to you, slowly, but you can never seem to take the time to slow down, always saying that we have forever for slow. And that's when it ends, it ends with you talking about forever, me deep inside of you."

Sara gazed at him in wonder, shock, lust. She spun around and stalked out in front of him, making her way onto the sidewalk in front of the bar. She hailed a cab with a frantic wave of her arm. "In the cab," she ordered. "Now!"

Grissom stood stalk still for a moment and watched her walk around to the other side of the cab. "Where are we going?"

Sara climbed in, buckled and folded her hands neatly and politely in her lap. "Back to my place," she said cordially, as if offering him a cup of tea and gave the cabbie her address. "So I can fuck you."

His eyes nearly shot out of his skull at her innocent expression betrayed by her 'fuck me' eyes. "You gonna drive, or what?" Sara finally asked the man, who seemed to be in shock at her words. He sped west, towards Sara's apartment.

As they turned onto Tropicana, he heard Sara's breathing increase a bit. "What?" he asked, nervousness forcing its way into his voice, his eyes flitting to the cabbie just in front.

She licked her lips, "Just thinking about you inside of me."

"Why," Grissom ground out as the man sped impressively through a blatant yellow light. "Are you teasing me?"

"That's not teasing," Sara shot back, sounding seemingly disinterested. "Teasing you would be," and she unbuckled her seat belt and twined her long body into a kneeling position next to him. Slowly, she brought her mouth up to his ear, while resting her right palm on his thigh. "Me saying that... every night, when I lie in bed, touching myself... that when I come, I say your name."

Grissom's eyes grew wide and he felt the cab accelerate. "You want to hear me say your name, Gil?"

He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to hold himself together. Record time was made, she was sure as they peeled into her apartment complex. With lightning speed which he was sure he'd be feeling in the morning, he jumped from the cab, tossed a fifty at the driver, zipped around the other side of the vehicle and ripped the door open. Sara stepped slowly (and more than a little wobbly) out and walked up the steps to her front door, Grissom pulling up the rear.

A palpable silence fell between them as they navigated the stairs and hallways until they reached her front door. With the key in the lock, Sara turned around, grabbed his neck and kissed him hard and deep, once more thrusting her center over his length quickly before pulling back. She looked up at him, mirth dancing in her eyes as her teeth slipped over and off of her bottom lip.

The door swung open easily enough and she invited him in with a gesture of her arm.

Once inside her apartment, she threw down her coat and her purse, pointing to the right of the door. "That's the bathroom," and she took off her shirt, shaking her hair out as her head popped through the neck-hole. "Over there is the hallway to the bedroom and the guest room," and she took off her pants. "That's the kitchen, this is the living room, now take off your pants."

Grissom stood there stunned for a moment until she smiled and once again demanded, palm out, "Pants please."

Minor slip ups aside, Grissom was able to stumble out of his pants and handed them to her. "Shirt..." Sara asked, tapping her foot in impatience. He acquiesced easily enough and soon he was standing before her in only his boxers. Smiling, Sara rid herself of the rest of her clothing and walked over to him, naked and amazing.

"And now for the boxers," she muttered her hands already testing the warmth of his chest. His hands were already underneath the waistband of his boxers, pulling them away from his body. They fell away and she stepped up to him, kissing him with a softness that he hadn't experienced that night. He wondered if it was a thanks for obeying her or an utterance of emotion or simply a need to slow things down.

Well, it couldn't have been about slowing things down, not with that way she was pushing him towards the couch. Her hands were wonderfully warm on his skin and he got the urge to touch her, his fingers coming up to touch the small of her back, the delicate swell of her hips. She would have none of it, much to his amusement.

Sara shoved him down hard on the couch, his cock standing proud from the nest of graying curls at his hips. Lithely, cat-like, she climbed on top of him, her wetness brushing up against the head of his hardness. The lump in his throat was promptly swallowed as he regarded her dark eyes and purposeful expression.

She moved his cock in between her hot, throbbing folds and began thrusting on him, causing no penetration. On every down stroke, the head of his cock would bump her clitoris, causing her to call out or grit her teeth or bite his lip.

With a swift, surprising move, she popped the head of him inside of her, but just the head, and tightened around him. Grissom's eyes flew open at the slick heat surrounding him. "Eyes closed," she ordered, breathily. With a prowess that he was stunned to find she possessed, Sara swiveled her hips around the head of him, tightening and relaxing at intervals.

After a few minutes had passed, she pulled off of him and slid him in between her cleft once more, pistoning up and down on him faster than before. Her clitoris, continually nudged, was beginning to thrum and after a few more jostles, she came hard. Forcefully, she tossed her head back, gurgling out some sort of mantra.

Grissom's head swam as he watched her come, his vision blurring for a moment. When it finally cleared, she had moved off of him and had taken him deep into her mouth, stroking the underside of his hardness with her tongue.

Semen hit the back of her throat and she swallowed, once, twice, almost three times. Instead, she pulled back, smiling at him devilishly, offering him a cock of her eyebrow as a dare to what she wanted to give him. Grissom swallowed hard and crooked his finger at her, just a bit unsure, and invited her to kiss him.

She did, offering up the bit of him she had saved on the back of her tongue.

"You're dirty," he rasped eventually, fingers digging hard into her hips.

Sara hummed low in her throat and kissed his cheek. "Oh, you like it though." Grissom smiled slowly and brought their lips together once more, kissing her slowly, being sure to taste all of her mouth before diverting his attention to her sweat-slickened neck.

"Which way was the bedroom again?" he asked, stroking her cheek with rough fingers. Sara laughed, sounding absurdly loud in the dull quiet of the room. She stood, her cheeks pink, legs wobbly and grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of her bedroom.

Both naked and neither one feeling at all embarrassed, they both felt sure that something between them was so absolutely perfect that it was nearly frightening.

She flung herself onto the bed, hair fanning out as she bounced and laughed and he climbed over to her with lustful purpose.

Damn it, he wanted to go slow, he needed to go slow. He had to savor every unattainable inch of her slowly. But there was no way that could happen. They were both too drunk, too swept up and he knew, as much as he wanted to feel her slowly, he was going to fuck her hard and fast because... he couldn't help himself.

Her breathing, if it was possible, was louder than his, coming in desperate pants. "God Grissom, please, before I think you're backing out on me here..."

"No turning back now," he tried to say jokingly but she shot him a very serious look. Licking his lips, he moved up over her, glancing down into her semi-moist eyes. Quickly, he kissed her nose, smiled and drew her legs up, up, up over his shoulders and thrust into her, deep and sure.

"Jesusfuckingchristoh," she panted in one breath. His head swam brilliantly as he attempted to put it all into place, to stop the earth from quivering under him. He was in Sara, *in* Sara... loving her. Too much, it was very nearly too much. He pulled out and thrust home, home, home once more, his cock surrounded by her wonderful warmth, her searing heat.

Her mouth opened quickly, but shut just as fast, her surprise at his speed overcoming her. Damn, he felt good, full and thick, hot and sure, that she didn't know if she'd be able to do without him afterwards.

Her lips, which had become nothing but a bullet, was bitten on once again, Sara attempting so hard not scream out loud like she wished to. There were emotions that she needed to express, emotions that wouldn't be appropriate being put into words.

Sara's hands reached out and grabbed her breasts, his hands too busy holding her legs above him, watching that she didn't slip.

His breath escaped in a desperate hiss, a need to be deeper in her, a need to stay in her for as long as he could. Grissom pulled out, stilled and waited for her too meet his gaze. She did, fiery and determined and he moved into her once again, his cock bumping against her cervix delicately. "Sah-sarahhhhhhhhh, god, fuck," he sputtered, allowing her legs to dangle over his shoulders.

Sara grinned devilishly, a strange, naughty upturn of the lips that he returned quickly. "Faster, gah, faster, Griss," she ordered.

His teeth tightened and his jaw set as concrete and he pushed into her cunt, long, hard and fast. "Gil!" she shrieked, not meaning to, but unable to control the volume of her voice. His grin widened at the utterance of his name, the way she made it sound so gorgeous.

Again and again, he disappeared within her, pressing the true thickness as far as it would go before he retreated, making sure she knew just what he felt for her. He wasn't sure if it was possible to utter it, to fully acknowledge the love and devotion and depth he felt for her.

He gazed down, just as she glanced up and tightened her muscles, Grissom grunted low and came, searing her insides, thrusting into her once, twice, until she too came. She quivered around him, meeting the last of his thrusts with ardor.

Sara's mouth was open, her brow sweaty. Sara breathed out a long sigh, watching as Grissom came down and rested next to her. "That was... nice," she said, breathing moistly against his cheek. He nodded and the both of them snuggled down into her soft sheets.
---
They woke up and blushed at each other.

They both looked rather worse for the wear, pale and sickish. Sara rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her head swimming rather sickeningly. They glanced at each other again, skittishly.

Sara laughed embarrassed and hid her head under her pillow. Grissom too chuckled and rolled over, grabbing her, extracting her from the delicate cotton and down haven. "You're hiding from me now?"

Sara's smile fell. "I have a wicked hangover. I must have drank *a lot*," she reasoned, giving him an obvious out.

"I do too," and with that his lips fell to her collarbone. His tongue, rough, skated over her skin as she reasoned out what had happened the night previous.

"You can leave now," she whispered, "if you want."

"Huh?"

"It was," she stuttered, finding no trace of the confidence she had had the night previous. "We were both drunk and this doesn't have to mean anything if you didn't... want it to."

"This didn't mean something to you?"

Sara swallowed, hard and long and looked him briefly in the eye. "I can keep last night; last night it felt like you were loving me, and-"

"I was," he interjected. "Loving you."

She laid back and let him kiss her but she didn't kiss back. "I'm a goddamned sore loser," Grissom muttered against her lips. "Please, sweetheart, please..." His mouth trailed over her cheek, her ear, as he shook so hard, his hands grasping her arms. "Please, don't be with anyone else."

Sara laughed and tossed her head side to side. "Gil Grissom, are you asking me to go steady?"

Grissom shrugged, tossing an arm over her stomach. “Well maybe not steady, because we’re both so volatile. But, I think being together will have some sort of positive effect on the both of us.”

Sara smiled and kissed the underside of his chin. “So today’s my happy ending?”

“Mine too,” he chuckled and rolled out of bed to make her breakfast, because he could.