107 Degrees.

Title: 107 Degrees
Author: scullyseviltwin/scullyastrinity
Category: First... time? PWP? There's KINDA a plot?
Rating: This is pretty much adulto. That's Spanish for adult. I lie, I don't know Spanish...
Words: Uhhh, 3,000+??? Damn, did I really write that in a day and NOT stop to get hammered and wax poetic in the middle? Holy shit!
Spoilers: See A/N
Thanks: Almost to ckofshadows who was too sick ;-) and jenbachand who was too busy and finally to ashiya who is so crazy... and eventually actually beta'd. I feel like this is a warped version of Goldilocks...
A/N: Under the cut and they're a little spoilery... just skip the first paragraph and you're set! But only a teensy bit!
INSPIRED BY: A song by Citizen Cope entitled '107 Degrees' and if you would like, please contact moi.



A/N: Well... I tried, I really tried to something that was raunchy as shit. And I got like... 300 words in with writing I was okay with and then failed at life. Here's the deal: I fail at writing fiction and I've been failing at writing scholastically. Know how sad this is? I didn't even know if scholastic was the proper word. I fail. Jorja's leaving, CSI is getting over for me, and thus... brain is dying.





She was sure she was burning up, sure her body was turning to wax. God, she was
sure she was melting slow, slow, slowly into the hard concrete wall. Body rigid
against the cold stone, his hands were hot and hard on her hips, thumbs sliding
like liquid beneath the tight band of her jeans.

And she was fucking turning to fire beneath him.

There was no sun in the city that day; overcast skies brought with it a cooler
wind off of the mountains, rolling down the streets, over the houses and hotels,
coaxing with it the sort of chill that spurred noses to run and people to shove
their hands in their pockets. His windows were open but she didn't shiver, not
from the cold.

The juxtaposition of the heat and chill would surely leave her with a fever,
surely.

Pressing into the indents at her hips, he breathed over her skin, leaving a damp
spot just below her ear; it tickled, the slight wetness and as though he sensed
this, his tongue snaked out and soothed over the patch.

Violently, was how she was shaken, her body torn between being completely on
alert and relaxing completely, forcing her to sink to the floor. At the moment,
the only thing holding her up was the pressure of his body against hers,
pressing her, pressing her into the damned wall.

A surprise, a pleasant one when he had shown while she was having lunch; a
pleasant surprise in the manner in which he apologized for leaving her the night
before, taking her hands in his and allowing his heart to bleed. A pleasant
surprise when he'd ordered a coffee and sat with her as she finished her meal,
talked with her about nothing and pressured her into getting a slice of apple
pie for dessert. A surprise, when he'd snatched her fork away to take a bite for
himself.

There had been purpose in following him back to his townhouse. "It's only fair,"
he'd said with a smile, "I've seen your place."

"You'll let me explore?" as she tried to grab the check, being too slow for his
hand. Grissom picked up the bill and slid a credit card into the slot and placed
it at the edge of the table. And then he winked and she was at a loss. To
question his actions or simply play along, go for the ride and see what
happened?

"You can explore to your heart's content," he promised; leaning in, he added
quietly, "As long as I can do some exploring of my own."

There was no doubt in her mind that he was deliberately trying to be salacious.
Salacious and sweet was how he was being, alluring, unassuming and adorable.
Sara was sure that there was a distinct adjective missing from her long list,
but she couldn't place what it was; she only knew that she wanted it to be
there.

The last of her coffee slid down her throat in a loud gulp; she hoped it wasn't
too obvious that he'd thrown her entirely for a loop.

The night previous had been sloppy and a little rushed but Sara couldn't
remember another time when she'd been so *slow* in bed, when she'd stopped to
test the reaction or someone else, another time when she'd been so entirely in
the moment. It'd been almost surreal, an experience that stole her breath and
left her entirely confused afterward.

Even more confused when he'd fallen asleep beside her with his mouth on her
shoulder.

But awakening to find him gone... well... she couldn't say she didn't entirely
expect that.

And now, surprise, surprise. An apology and an invitation and for someone so
intelligent, Sara was truly at a loss and it didn't feel entirely unwelcome.

Was he... was he attempting to sweep her off of her feet with a slice of apple
pie and a smile? Well then, she'd take what she could get.

When the waitress had returned and Grissom had scribbled his John Hancock on the
bill, she smiled and slid from the booth. "Sounds like we're in for quite an
adventure," Sara jested and made to walk away. But he grabbed her hand and held
it and took off in front of her, leaving her to trail behind.

Pushing the door open in front of them, Grissom stepped to the side and held it
for her. She shielded her eyes with a hand at her brow and looked up to him; "Am
I going to follow you?"

He was silent for the longest three seconds of her life and he shrugged the most
infinitesimal shrug, "Are you?"

Mouth pursed, Sara considered his words, and considered what he was considering.
Would she follow him and for how long and in turn, given the chance, would he
follow her. How strange that she was on the *exact* same page as he was in that
moment. "That depends on... on if neither of us how care how far we're going."
Confusing herself, Sara finished, "That it doesn't matter how far we're going,
but that we're both going there."

Bottom lip between her teeth, she checked the sun in the sky, watching as the
clouds swallowed it up. Maybe an omen in that atmospheric happening, but she
didn't count it as one. "Both of us," and she looked at him again, testing his
reaction.

Grissom considered her for a moment, squeezing her hand as though looking for
some sort of answer in her reaction. Sara just smiled, a little, and waited.
"Let's go," he said finally and released her hand. "Just... just follow me," he
instructed as he disappeared around the side of his car.

Sara followed him, down the gray streets of Las Vegas, to his residence, where
he showed her inside with a hand on the small of her back. Inside, her eyes
adjusted to the low light of his living room. It was just as she remembered it,
concrete and chrome, smatterings of him all about. Books and butterflies and
papers with his handwriting all over them. Academic chaos is what she used to
call it, the comforting scene of someone who'd been learning in fervor.

She loved it.

She loved him; for his books, for his butterflies, for his passion and
perseverance.

"What are you working on?" Sara asked as she cleared he throat and looked over
to see him in the shadows, still by the door, staring at her. Grissom said
nothing, just took two steps towards her and took his hands out of his pockets.
Sara swallowed, waited, yearned.

Another step. "Sara I... can't have touched you like I did last night, can't
have felt you like I did last night... and not be able to touch you... every
day, I..."

Not knowing what to do, she smiled, went to say something and stopped, because
he began speaking again. "I just..." and in another two steps her face was in
his hands and he was kissing her, leaving her at a loss for what to do besides
sliding her arms around his neck and kissing back. Slowly, his tongue ran along
the seam of her lips and slipped inside and languidly, she responded,
remembering how wonderful it had felt the night before, going so slowly.

It was only moments before he had backed her against, the wall, next to the
bookcase and had begun burning her down.

One hundred and seven degrees; she was sure she was spiking a fever as the light
in the room began to slip away, the clouds dimming from gray to something much
more smoky.

Hands on her hips, fingers on her skin, Grissom moved back, away from her and
she thought she would fall. "Looks like rain," she gasped and wanted to smack
herself for saying something so ordinary, so cliche.

He blinked, once and then twice and then his lips turned up halfway, an
understanding smile, understanding that she was struggling to catch up with the
present. "You wanted to explore?" Grissom asked kindly, sliding a lock of hair
behind her ear, leaving his hand to stroke her cheek for a moment.

Shaking her head no, Sara lost a little of her energy and leaned forward to
place her head on his shoulder. "No." It came out as a breathless whisper,
something she'd not expected to come from her.

"May I?" he asked, voice amused and it made her grin against his shirt. In
response, Sara nodded and moved to stand and look at him. Again, she nodded and
smiled and kissed him with a lazy fervor that made him sigh. "Fantastic,"
Grissom said and took her hand, leading her around his coffee table, into a
dimly-lit hallway and through the door to his bedroom.

Never sure, Sara had never been sure how to begin once inside someone's bedroom,
whether to begin undressing herself, where to put her hands, comment on the
decor? It has been easy enough last night, when he'd come to her, kissed her,
taken care of both of their clothes with minor fumbling. But now...

He'd crossed to the right side of his room, next to his large dresser, and had
pulled back the heavy drapes, allowing the dismal light to pour into the room.
When Grissom turned back to her, he was still smile, his frame relaxed, like he
knew *just* what to do. So, she went with it and waited.

Walking over to her, he grasped the hem of her tee shirt and with one last,
longing look into her eyes, Grissom gently removed the garment. Forehead against
hers, he reached down and unbuttoned her slacks, briskly downing the zipper,
allowing her to shrug the pants off of her hips, toeing off her boots in the
process.

Never, never before had she felt the tension in her belly roil so violently as
when he placed his warm palms over the skin just above her ass. What, Sara
wondered, was so different then from the night previous. Grief, angst, anxiety
swelled in her throat until she thought she might unleash it in a sob. Until he
said-

"Now's as good a time as any," it was more muttered than spoken and it snapped
her violently to the present.

Sara shook her head and pulled his shirt from his pants, her hands skimming it
over his head. "Excuse me?"

Thudding, was how her heart felt, completely and utterly ready to rip apart;
insane, how her mind screamed at her, how it tried so hard to slow down. "That I
love you."

"Excuse me?" mouth dry and fingers shaking, she was sure the buzzing in her ears
had caused her to mishear. "What?"

Startling her, he laughed, "Now's as good a time as any to let you know that I
love you, that I have been loving you... for awhile."

Dumbstruck and overwhelmed, Sara swallowed once more and teetered. "Oh."

He repeats the gesture that she had initiated before, placing their foreheads
together. "And," on he went with a smile so sure that she wondered if they were
still on the same page, "I don't think that it would be too forward to mention
that you're the only person I've ever wanted to touch, that you're the only
person that I want to touch."

"Oh," she whispered again and pulled back to look at him. The dim clouds were
reflected in her eyes, mingled with a sense of fear. He'd frightened her so
deeply that she thought she might cry. Overwhelmed, she made her way to the bed
and sat down, an odd mixture of desire and trepidation forcing her to reach out
for him. Grissom came to sat next to her on the bed; she was impatient, torn,
lost and so she kissed him hard, knocking him prostrate on the bed.
"Iloveyoutoo," Sara said in a rush of breath as she moved to straddle his
thighs, pressing her hands hard to the skin of his chest.

And then it happened; she began to sob violently, kissing him harder, as she
finally realized that this was much more than a simple meeting of bodies. It was
gut-wrenching and painful, and the most intensely beautiful sensation she'd ever
felt and she wanted him to feel it too, was desperate to make him feel it. "I
can't handle this," she said, fingers gripping his shoulders hard as he
struggled to keep up with her kisses, "It's too much this time."

But she didn't stop.

So he did.

"Sara, honey, what... oh jesus," he rolled her to her back and gathered her into
his arms, leaving soft kisses on her lips, willing her to stop shaking. "You
ok-"

"I'm fine," came her gasp as she fumbled briskly with his belt. Once she had
undone it-not bothering to pull it through the loops, she unbuttoned his pants
and pushed them down as far as she could. "Take, take off your *pants*," Sara
moaned in frustration, pushing her head back as far into the pillow as she
could.

A loud chuckled broke her from her fervor and she paused, watching from her
prone position on the bed as he took off hsi pants, leaving him completely nude
before her. Hands at her sides, she slid the index fingers on both hands into
the sides of her panties and brought them down her legs, kicking them over the
side of the bed.

Hungrily, he groaned and made his way up the bed to capture her lips once more
in a kiss as his right hand snaked down her body and gently parted her folds,
middle finger gliding easily up her seam. Her tongue slipped from his mouth and
she gasped in shock. "Yes..."

His finger circled her clit twice with deliberate slowness before he pulled back
to slip two fingers inside of her, cupping her mound careful as he thrust his
fingers in. Mouth on her neck, Grissom suckled, slowly withdrawing his digits to
the tip before moving them back in. "No, no," she gasped, rolling towards him,
his fingers still inside of her as she kissed him sloppily. "In me," she asked,
into his mouth and with ease slid his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to
clean them thoroughly.

Sara watched on in astonishment, in desire. With a little bit of difficulty, he
moved over her, nearly faltering; Sara breathed out a laugh as she steadied her
hands on his shoulders, eyes slipping closed, mouth parted just a bit as he
guided himself to her core, pushing inside just the slightest bit. "The only
person I want to touch," Grissom managed with some difficulty as she hooked her
legs up high around his hips and pulled him deeper.

Sara's hips bucked up into him and she threw her head back, gasping, clamping
down on him hard.

"Shit, oh god, shit," his body stilled and his eyes squeezed shut. Again, her
hips bucked and her hands slid down to his ass, nails digging in.

"Move," she growled and after he recovered from the shock of her demanding tone,
he did as asked and slid out nearly all the way and slammed back in, moving her
body back into the pillows. Bottom lip, her bottom lip slid against the curve of
his shoulder, teeth attempting to bite down. Her bra strap slid down her
shoulder and she let it, the sliver of fabric and elastic resting in the hollow
of her bent elbow.

Noticing her shift, he stopped moving and glanced down at her chest, groaning in
frustration when he noticed that he had missed. Blessing whatever gods she
prayed to that she was wearing a front clasp, she reached up to unhook it, but
he beat her to the punch, reaching up and undoing it easily.

After a wink, Grissom dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, back
arched at what *had* to be an uncomfortable angle. She didn't care that much,
with the way his tongue was moving, and how he managed to keep his thrusts in
time. If she hadn't been so far gone, she might have been impressed.

Her arms hooked under his, pulled him up for a kiss and again, he didn't falter,
simply ground into her and groaned, licking her lips when he came up for air.
"More," Sara whispered, almost desperately, as he hid his face in the crook of
her neck and pushed even harder than before.

The friction was becoming almost unbearable for the both of them. Her head
thrashed against the pillows and he'd taken to nipping at her skin to keep the
tension at bay.

Sara was sweating, something she would have been embarrassed by if he hadn't
been been lapping at the salty perspiration so greedily. Hands from his
shoulders to his ass to dig into his hair, Sara bit her lip and cried out,
slipping a hand between their bodies to press against her clit hard, swiping it
in circular motions faster than she knew she could manage.

"Oh Sara," he said sweetly into her skin and it was one of the most intense
things she had ever heard, so desperate, so honest and as she was sure she would
bite right through her lips, her body seized and forcefully, she grabbed his
head and turned him so that she could mash their lips together.

Sara kissed him as she came, deeply, crying lewdly into his mouth as she shook
and at the last second, she pulled her hand away, nestling her wet digits in his
hair as she held him and felt his warmth spill inside of her. The perspiration
from his temples was sliding down his cheeks and dripping off of his chin onto
her chest.

When he fell on top of her, he slid a little and she smiled into his hair as he
buried his face between her breasts and breathed in as deeply as he could.
"Sara..." he began but stopped to gain more breath.

"Hmmm?"

"You have to sleep here, I can't..." Grissom took another deep breath, "I
can't..."

Pressing a kiss to his damp hair, she laughed, "Yeah, I'll sleep here."

He turned off of her, onto this side, and wiped the sweat from his brow, pulling
her into his side. "This," Sara grumbled, feeling the stickiness between then,
"Might get uncomfortable."

"I know," but his hand squeezed her side, "Just, want to... for awhile."

Sara's body cooled as the light slipped away from the city, the dark light
covering their bodies, trying to steal away the heat. But her skin was on fire
and she was burning, melting, turning to wax and sinking into him.

Cradling his head against her chest, she watched the sky and felt the fever
closing in, embracing it as she allowed her eyes to slip closed.