Catharsis

Hey guys! I'm SO psyched to FINALLY have this place up and running. Props to Paul for the work he did for me. He totally rocks. And here, my friends, is a nice little smut morsel to satisfy your appetite!

Title: Catharsis
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating NC-17 people, adults only. ;-)
Category: GSR, angst, smut
Summary: Pounding, she counted as her feet pounded against the pavement. She would count to a hundred, swipe at her brow with the back of her hand, begin at one again.

Title: Catharsis

Author: ScullyAsTrinity

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Tcha... okay.

Category: Angst/Romance... what else?

A/N: Well... see, I'm a bad girl... this isn't the whole fic... because ff.net won't let me post the WHOLE thing... so I did what I had to. I posted it over at the LJ community. Review me and tell me if you want the link, or just email me. The real version is very much NC-17 with some good Griss/Sara lovin'.

Thanks: To Kat, basically for bugging the shit out of me to write this and post it on the community. To Holly for constant support. And to Matthew... he knows why.

---

Pounding, she counted as her feet pounded against the pavement. She would count to a hundred, swipe at her brow with the back of her hand, begin at one again.

The temperature was scorching, though not by Vegas standards; still, it was probably far too hot out to be running. But she was out there none the less, black cut offs, Nike cross trainers, bright blue Nike running halter. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. The picture of fitness.

That was Sara Sidle.

It felt wonderful, the sweat trickling down the back of her neck, the sun warming her skin. She loved the sound of the blood pounding angrily in her ears, so loud, so steady. Her mouth was parched but she smacked her tongue against the roof of it in a vain attempt to bring saliva.

It probably would have been logical for her to count her miles, but that really wasn't what she cared about. She'd be done when she was too tired to run anymore.

Slowing to a jog, Sara breathed in deeply, finally walking. Raising her hands high above her head, she bent over, cracking her back in the process. Refreshing.

Standing up straight, she toggled with the idea of heading home but decided that a longer-than-normal run would help her clear her head. She prepared herself to begin again when a familiar vehicle pulled over beside her. "Isn't it a bit too hot out for that right now?" He called from the opposite side of the car, his eyes hidden by his dark glasses, hair covered by his 'Forensics' cap.

Sara panted and looked at him over the top of her glasses. "It will be in an hour, give or take." She called back, moving from side to side, stretching out the ache that had settled uncomfortably between her ribs.

Gil Grissom nodded, and looked back out towards the lonesome boulevard, still leaned over into the passenger seat. "Are you through?"

She shook her head in the negative, suddenly feeling the urge to pound everything she felt for him into the pavement for another mile or two. Her back ached, and her thighs rebelled at the thought of more pavement ahead. But she didn't care.

"I was just... going to offer you a ride back to your apartment." He trailed off, realizing that his words were completely void. She'd already said she was running some more. But she was so lovely standing there, hunched over, breathing hard. Sweaty and informal... the way she would be in bed.

And his mind flashed to a vision of the two of them under the covers. Sweaty, loving, strong and hot. Their bodies barely holding against one another, the friction reduced by the sweat pouring between them. It would be fantastic, he knew the moment would be fantastic, but the aftermath... that would be the killer.

"I'm gonna, ah..." She sucked in a breath and glared up at the sun. "Just run back, I've just gotta..." Sara pointed in the direction from which she had come. Grissom nodded again but made no move to leave.

He too looked at the sun, back to her. "I, uh, Jim went by the woman's house. Pictures of him everywhere. They got a formal statement, they're booking her now."

Smiling tightly, she confronted him. "Were you following me Griss?" She asked, staring straight at him, yanking her glasses from her face. She was surprised when he made no show of emotion at her accusal.

"No..."

Sara nodded, biting her bottom lip, looking up to see what street she was on. "Because... I'm just saying... your place is about five miles... *that* way." Pointing down the long street, he followed the line of her finger with his gaze. Noting her aptitude, he nodded, staring her down again, as if she needed no explanation.

"Get in for a second, I want to talk."

"Then talk Griss. I have to finish up here."

"Just get in, please." He paused and pulled off his sunglasses, revealing his pleading eyes. Sara weighed her options. She'd been keeping up with her New Year's Resolution: not to flirt, banter or show any sort of formal attachment to Gil Grissom... at least on the outside. She feared if she sat in the car, layers of her carefully built deception would crumble down. But his eyes, they were so... something, so she got into the car, cocooned by the lovely cool of the air-conditioning.

Sara waited for Grissom to start speaking, but he didn't, just handed her a half-empty bottle of water and sat back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Uh... thanks." Sara took the bottle and gulped from it, wondering why she wasn't quite giddy, drinking from Grissom's bottle. "She say why she did it?" Sara posed, hoping to get the ball rolling... on something. Anything was better than silence.

He nodded and slipped his sunglasses back on. "She uh, he wouldn't be with her. Said their research was too important. So she killed him, stabbed him. Open and shut."

Sara felt a tinge of irony tick in her head but she ignored it and ignored the smile that nearly came with it. "Brass talk to Sofia about her... behavior?"

"Sofia's harmless." Grissom whispered, looking out the window, instead of at her.

"She almost compromises our witness... and she's harmless." Sara bit her lip and shook her head, bitterly. "Anyway, that wasn't what I was talking about."

"Why don't you like her?" He asked, a question that wasn't at all appropriate to ask.

She slid her eyes to his quickly, and in a heated voice, responded. "I like her just fine. I just don't go out on a limb and trust somebody just because they ask me to." She looked at her hands and then back at him. "That's not how it works."

"I know." He said.

"No you don't and-would you please take the damn glasses off? What the hell did you want to talk to me about?"

Fingers removed the glasses, placed them on the dashboard and returned to the bridge of his nose. "I don't know." He finally breathed out harshly.

Sara shrugged, tossed him his water and moved to get out of the car. "I'm going to finish my run then."

But Grissom's hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, stilling her movement. "No. Sara, I..."

"What?" She'd finally had enough of his fucking mind games, his hot then cold routine. She was sick of it. "What?"

"He was just so lonely Sara. They, they checked out his apartment and... pictures of her, so many of them. And he was so lonely Sara." She was shocked, completely and utterly by the lost tone of his voice. So low, so sad.

"Yeah well, it was his own damn fault." She said coldly. "Doesn't seem like it would have been too hard for him to just 'fess up and say it. I don't feel sorry for him at all." Sara finished, and it was true. She didn't feel sorry for him. "And Griss, just to let you know, I'm not an idiot. Don't metamorphose this to be us." She slid her glasses back on and stepped out of the car, leaving him there, brows raises, intrigued.

"I wouldn't stab you, I'd strangle you." She quipped and began running back in the direction that she had come.

Sara didn't stop on the run back to her apartment building. She couldn't, there were too many thoughts screaming through her head.

'Bastard... thinks he can just act like he wants this all of a sudden, act like he cares. Push, pull, come and go. Bastard, you damn bastard.' So, for a few blocks she hated him. For the next few, the next few blocks were spent attempting not to cry at how she had let herself become so malleable; to be able to be swayed by him.

Reaching her apartment steps, she punched her fist into the hard metal of the railing, wincing when the pain burned up her arm. 'Damn it! Why can't we *ever* be on the same page?' Moving slowly, languidly, she pulled herself up the stairs. Her palm smacked the main door and it opened. Against, he pulled herself up the two flights to her apartment.

Grissom jumped out of his car and caught the main door just as it was about to snick shut. He followed her up the stairs, a few steps behind her, but she didn't notice him. She slammed her fist again, this time on the hard wood of her apartment door. 'Obsession, you idiot. Obsession.' She laid her head on the cool wood and was startled when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

She whirled around.

Grissom stood before her, sweat clinging to his brow in an intriguing manner. He was sexy that way, he was.

She was still breathing hard, hard from her workout.

He stood there before her, panting himself, watching her eyes go from brown to charcoal. Her lips quirked and she slipped the key in the lock, barely having time to place the key back on her wrist-ring before he shoved her inside and smothered her panting with his eager lips.

"Need to feel you, just need to feel." He gasped out.

And everything was liquid. Everything was liquid.

***

"You're intentions, oh god, you'd better be willing to see this thing-" He cut her off, biting her ear slightly harder than he really had to and she ground into him, all sweat and salt and skin.

He, of course, couldn't help but to taste her, run his tongue over the curve of her neck, gathering the perspiration there and savoring the tangy flavor. "I'm such, such a damn fool." He whispered jaggedly, his words calling something inside her, the tight feeling spreading across her chest until she was sure her heart would burst into shards.

Lips plundered once more and she groaned straight into his neck, began to cry, hot, hot, angry tears. She wasn't surprised by the passion. But she had always imagined he would be more... precise. This was anything but- wild, chaotic, cathartic. Lips, teeth, hands, bodies... sweat and skin and lips and tongues swirling together to make her cry out.

"What is this?!" She breathed out harshly, so harsh, her hands deep in his hair, pulling him against her in an animalistic fashion.

Beard, his beard scratching across her skin. Waves and waves and waves screeched over her as she held onto him. "This is me trying not to love you Sara, and failing so miserably." She, all she did was stand stock still as the words he had spoken seeped into her veins.

He noticed her reaction after a moment, noticed the absence of her moans, of her movement. "Sara?" He said, so small, so scared.

She shoved her off of him. "No, why is this happening Griss. Because you want my body? That's not enough."

"I saw you today, unleashed, you were unleashing your fury, and damn it if it wasn't the most..."

She pursed her lips and waited for him to tear her appearance apart. "Beautiful damn thing I've ever seen. And that's what wrong with you. You're the most... you're everything I have ever seen, wrapped up into..."

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic, Griss?" Sara scoffed, moving away from his frightfully warm body to gulp down an entire bottle of Aquafina. He, finally snapping, followed her into the kitchen, pinning her against the counter.

"No Sara, I don't think I am. These things, all of these things have been bottled up... and the cork just let off. And I can't get any of it back in now." He growled at her. "Never how you wanted this to happen, I know." His harsh whisper echoed in her head, erotic, painful. "But I can't help myself anymore."

Sara stepped forward and yanked on his arm, he spun to face her.

She drew him, pulled him down the hall, all the while speaking low and fast. "Is this it? Tell me Griss, tell me, is this it? Is this going to be us, really us? Us from the beginning, or are you going to displace this into another scenario?"

He let her go, sudden and sharp. She ached with the absence of him as much as he had with the presence of her, more so. To have, to release. He pulled his shirt straight as he turned away. He didn't walk away. Still turned, he spoke as if to her face, with a fragile calm. "It's not like that. How could you think it was?"

"Then tell me something Griss. Tell me something Gil. Really, tell me why; I'm sick of the mind games. And I can be over you if you'd let me."

"You can be *over* me?" He didn't understand.

"Gil, are you gonna fuck me or not?" She asked him, coldly, bringing her face close to his. He shook his head as if in agony, and turned his back to her.

She went to him, closing to his back, putting her hand around him, across his chest, pulling her breasts to his back. "Are you going to fuck me, Gil?"

"No."

"Fine, then leave." She moved from the door and turned the knob, holding it open for him.

She pulled herself away. She sidestepped him and reached for the door.

"It wouldn't be fucking. It would never be just *fucking* Sara, and you know it. You know it." He spoke, brazenly true, directly into her face and she winced, almost sobbed.

"It would never be that. You know it. It couldn't be that. I thought you knew me, you do. You know me. Us. If there is an us, we aren't that."

Holding his shoulder as though to keep her footing, as though she might be swept away, she gasped. "'S all I wanted you to tell me, tell me I mean something. I came here for you. I... I'm for you, just you."

Starving, incredibly lost and hungry, not caring about his career, startling. Not caring about anyone else but here, there in that moment. How to divest her of her clothing. How to bury himself in her, to really, *really* prove that he had been thinking about her all those years; they had been attached. And he'd been such a good actor, nominated, exalted. Pretending not to imagine the texture of her skin, the roughness of her tongue, the liquid slide into her, the cry she'd give... the wonder, the pure plausibility that she'd profess her love in that instant.

But she already had. With her eyes.

True, a man could be a coward and still be a man. Still be whole, be whole with a huge chunk missing.

"Melodrama, but I swear, if you kiss me one more time there's no going ba-" His lips fell upon hers entirely too reckless to be caring, but they were loving. She shoved him back. "Griss, I'm serious! I can't go on, just giving into men that-"

Kissing her again, he gripped her around the waist tightly. "Sara, just, for once, for me..." He breathed a breath over her shoulder eyes closed. Then, just as suddenly as they had shut, his eyes popped open. "Just shut up and let me love you while I still have the damned courage."

"Not so eloquent when put on the spot?" Sara asked, her legs wrapping around his torso as he pressed her against the hard wood.

"Do you wanna hear poetry or would you rather-" He began, only to be cut off by her.

"I'd rather you do other, more important things... with your mouth."

He smiled against her lips, assaulting her there once more. Sara happily moaned into his mouth as she ground her pelvis onto his growing erection. Grissom's strangled moan erupted up from the depths of his throat, causing her too to call out.

Gil pushed back from her, and her legs slid down to the floor, thumping dully. Questioning him with her eyes, he smiled, blushed and kiss her already plump lips. She smiled into it, into the brash change of tempo. Trailing his lips down her neck, and toying with the hem of her shirt at the same time, Gil indulged in a bit of misdirection. She was unsure where his action was going to lead.

And when he pulled her shirt off quickly, with one fell swoop, she gasped and laughed and kissed his collarbone in mock retaliation. Her fingers twined with his and she nudged him in the direction of what he could only assume was the bedroom.

They stumbled, strangely, into her room. She laughed as he fell into her, knocking her down onto the bed. "Eager." Sara panted as she turned on him, splaying her thighs open to sit on his lap. He was startled at her prowess for a moment, but gave up his game when she shoved him back onto the mattress, tearing his tee shirt over his head in a frantic show of passion. She threw his shirt, didn't know where it landed, didn't care.

All she cared about was the smooth skin of his chest, and how long it would take her to kiss it all. Gil thought he heard her growl as she attacked his pecs with fervor, teeth nipping, tongue soothing. His groans bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of him, primal and wanton. Sara smiled, evilly, sexily, and swirled her tongue over right his nipple, causing him to gasp and throw his hands into her hair. She gave the same treatment to the left and laughed around the tiny nub when he was unable to form her name coherently.

To his surprise, she multitasked quite well, lips at work on his upper body, wet heat grinding against his lower body. As if sensing his words, or perhaps simply fed up with the feel of the fabric on her skin, Sara hopped off of him and shucked her pants, kicking off the legs in haste as she bent to remove her sneakers and socks.

She was still sticky with salty sweat, and the fine light from the drawn curtains made it glisten on her skin. It intrigued him. He sat up and reached up to her, tracing the skin of her ribs, her hips, drawing in the moisture. Standing before him in her panties and sports bra, Sara pulled his head to her stomach and tangled her hands into the curls atop his head.

"We go through with this, there's no going back." She said, seriously, and he heard the words rumble in her body just as she said them. Kissing her stomach reverently, he looked up into her eyes, her hands skating to the back of his skull.

"I know." He said, clearly. Loudly.

"I'm scared." A harsh whisper, but necessary.

He licked his lips and smiled at her. "Then I'm not the only one." She smiled back at his statement and began working on removing his pants for him. Wickedly smiling when she was through, she sat back on his lap, just staring at him for a few moments. He wore a goofy grin that nearly matched hers.

So she kissed it off of him hard, and his fingers felt the sweat sticking to her back. There was something primal about her, there loving him, just sweat and skin.

"Honey, you feel so..." What? She feels so what Gil? "Liquid. Sara..." Her name was a groan on his lips and it aroused her beyond reason. A pure jolt of arousal shot down her spine, depositing itself between her legs.

"Mmm, you know Gil..." She ground out as his fingers slipped the tight elastic of her sports bra from her body. "You can make love... and you can fuck... and you can be in love and fuck." His ears were just about ready to shut down, hearing her speak in such an appallingly erotic manner.

She licked the crest of his ear, panted in it for good measure and spoke. "And I want you to fuck me." Pulling back to look in his eyes, she grinned. "Hard."

That was his doing, his hands gripped her hips hard and he lifted her and threw her to the bed. Sara, for her part, just stared at him, naked save for the panties, and watched him as his eyes clouded over and he pulled his boxers off with determination. Crawling over her on the bed, he too growled as he attacked her chest.

She was intoxicatingly salty and he lapped at her with determination, sure that he had to clean her of all the perspiration before he could continue. Her fingernails traced nonsensical patterns on the skin of his back as he set a leisurely pace with her breasts.

Sara didn't quite know what was happening, her head was swimming so violently. She lay back for moments, cataloguing the reactions her body had to his tongue. A moment later she squealed, his left hand slipping under the band of her panties to swipe at her clit lightly.

Her hips flexed off the bed and she bucked into him, hard. He growled at her and smiled, bit down on her nipple. Sara gasped and grabbed his hair and her hands, pulling his face up. "Kiss me." She demanded. And he did, his tongue lapping against hers.

She then pulled back and issued a challenge. "Now, fuck me." He raised a brow at her. "With your mouth."

Grissom pulled back, face blank. Pulling his hand away from her center, he stared at her. And she was afraid she'd gone too far. But he just brought his hand up to her mouth. "Hmmm, I don't know, tell me how you taste." He held his hand out to her lips and her mouth hung agape, eyes wide.

Slowly, her tongue slithered out and took his fingers into her mouth. Her eyes wished to slip closed, but she kept them on his the whole time, watching them cloud over dangerously. Once she'd had her fill, she spoke to him, low and throaty. "I taste like... sweat..."

He nodded, wanting her to continue. She smiled, licked her lips and said, rather shyly, "And pomegranate, taffy and... ginger snaps."

Grissom's face broke out into a genuine smile and he leaned down to kiss her slowly before trailing sloppy, wet kisses, down her abdomen. Breathing her in, she peeked up at her. "You smell like... autumn." He said and swiped his tongue across her lips.

His thumbs parted her folds and his tongue swiped between them slowly before plunging back down, delving inside of her slowly.

"Oh, fuck, Grissom, I-"

"Tell me what you feel." He said and went back to the banquet set before him.

"Mmm, it feels like... water but, like... it tickles, in a good way. It feels like... like, oh god Griss it's you." She groaned, realizing that he truly was between her legs, taking her in. He, spurred by her words, extracted his tongue, replacing it with two of his fingers.

"Oh fuck yes." She spat, and his lips found her clit, sucking it eagerly into his mouth. His free hand held her stomach down, as she began to buck wildly on the bed. His tongue began tracing tiny figure eights on the tiny bundle of nerves until Sara began to literally whimper in submission underneath him.

Her hands in his hand, pulling hard, stopped him.

"What?" He thought he'd done something wrong. "Honey?"

Tears were in her eyes and she crooked a finger at him, and he slid his body along hers, perching at her lips to kiss her. Sara tasted herself on his tongue and her mind swam again. "I want you in me, when..." She paused, not wanting to take anything too far.

Grissom pushed her hair off of her forehead and kissed her there. "What?"

"When I come. I want you in me when I come." She breathed out, hoping her words were greeted with a kind reception.

"Sara, I want to, before I..." How would he tell her? He wanted to tell her but he wasn't sure that he knew just the words to pinpoint exactly what he felt for her so he-... his brain rambled on and on as she watched him fumble with his words.

"I love you, okay Griss?" Sara whispered, tilting her head, kissing the corner of his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he let the words settle in his head. "And that's all. Okay." She kissed him again, barely, a whisper against his lips.

His hands cupped her face for a moment, peppering gentle kisses over the soft skin of her forehead, her cheekbones. Eyes, her eyes liquefied as he took the opportunity to push into her, her own body enveloping his in a show of love and acceptance. For a moment, he paused, incredibly frightened, but she pointed to the bedside table, to the pills encased there, and he smiled.

Gil's eyes, though he willed them to stay open, slammed shut at the excruciating tightness that her body provided. Emitting a gasp, Sara dug her nails hard into his shoulders. Grissom's eyes opened quickly and he stilled all of his movement. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes and she bit her lip, bit her lip hard.

"I'm hurting you, honey." He whispered harshly, voice cracking.

She bit down harder and shook her head, tears spilling over to wet her hair. "No, no no. It's a, 'sa good hurt." He looked at her skeptically and she smiled, moved up to kiss him. Slowly, she moved her ankles up to hook over his hips and he began to move, slowly at first.

And when she whimpered into his shoulder, he picked up the pace, just slightly, watching her face for any show of pain.

She licked her lips and panted out to him, "Gil, oh god, you feel, oh god." She bit off her sentence with a loud groan. "Harder." She demanded quiet clearly and moved her lips so she was able to bite down on his neck, showing him she was quite serious.

Grissom did as she asked, thrusting into her hard and fast, his brow breaking out in a fine sheen of sweat. Sara got the desire to taste it, as he did with hers, so she reached up and swiped her hand across his forehead, licking the salt from her digits. He moaned when he saw what she was going, and he swooped his head to capture her fingers in his mouth.

She gasped, groaned, and allowed her free hand to fall between their bodies and swipe rapidly against her clit. Grissom saw what she was doing, and shoved her hand out of the way, replacing it with his own. Sara gasped and pulled her fingers from his mouth, clenching his biceps hard.

"Griss, gonna... come with me Gil." She pleaded low. Her walls began to spasm and Grissom called out her name, a harsh whisper and flooded her with warmth. Sara gasped and pulled his weight on top of her when he tried to roll away.

"Mmm, gonna crush you." He mumbled into her neck, tongue snaking out to lick her quickly.

"S'okay. You crushed me a long time ago." She mumbled back, nearly coherent.

Grissom had enough presence of mind to mumble something about love into her hair before pulling the disheveled comforter over the both of them.