DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!

RATING: M - Mature (for sexual situations and language)

PAIRINGS: GSR.

SPOILERS: None... Other than Canon GSR

SUMMARY: Sara gets a little surprise when Gil stumbles onto something she's forgotten. No timeline, just sometime during GSR Canon. Smut... BIG TIME Smut.

A/N: I was in desperate need of a distraction after nearly losing my mind watching that Season Finale, and this one has been playing around my head all week. You can thank 2 people for this one. One being my longtime beta who has abandoned me to attend grad school (FINALLY), and the other being the gentleman who's been visiting me all week My beta came up with the idea after hearing me tell her a story about my visitor. The visitor... Well, let's just say that he is the inspiration for a lot of my smut writing. We'll call him a research tool. :D I hope this piece will provide you with a much needed distraction as well.

REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

It was one of those days that made a person glad they didn't have them all the time. Sara hated court appearances, but she hated appearances in front of Judge Campbell more than any other. She hated it because the ancient, misogynistic jackass had a dress code, and she never liked that ridiculously conservative wool suit with the skirt that she was forced to wear in his court. It probably didn't help that she flatly refused to wear pantyhose, and her regular thigh-high stockings had gotten a run the moment she slipped them on, so she had been forced to improvise. She didn't mind the improvisation at home, but wearing a garter belt for eight straight hours was just cruel and unusual punishment.

As she walked in from the garage, the first victim in her bid to rid herself of the trappings of false femininity was those shoes. The moment she closed the door to the garage the shoes were kicked off and made their way underneath the bench in the mud room. This was their punishment for making her feet and calves ache like that.

Shrugging out of the jacket, Sara felt like she was sloughing off the burdens of the day as well. She grabbed a hangar from the laundry rack and hung it up to take to the dry cleaners later. As she began to pad her nearly bare feet toward the kitchen, she untucked her white silk shirt and let it shake loosely with the breeze of her movement. It felt good to have the conditioned air billow inside of her shirt. That wool suit was not meant for Las Vegas, and one day she really needed to get around to replacing it. However, her current plan involved a quick glass of juice, ridding herself of the rest of her clothes and slipping in between the sheets to get a little sleep before going in to the lab.

Theoretically, she could have stayed home, because she'd been in court all day, but there was still a bunch of evidence to process from her last case, as well as a mound of paperwork she'd been avoiding for a week. She planned to go in late, but she still wanted to go in and get some things done. If she waited any longer, the paperwork was only going to get worse, and the last thing she needed was the boss giving her hell for getting so far behind.

She smirked at the thought as she reached out to open the refrigerator. Before she could take the thought any further, she was suddenly overcome by a large, warm pair of arms pulling her back into their grasp. When she tried to say something to the owner of those arms she was silenced as a meaty hand turned her face to the side and a pair of searing lips captured her mouth.

By the time he started making his way down her neck, she was completely breathless, and having a difficult time remembering exactly what it was she was supposed to be doing, or even where she had been all day. The only thing she was sure of was that those lips were doing fantastic things to her libido, and the hands she felt roaming her body were making her pulse race. When she felt a thick palm sliding down over her hip, she felt a twinge at her core that was not helping her state of mind, but when it was pressed into her thigh and began to drag the hem of her skirt up with it she finally gave up trying to figure anything out. This was obviously a time for basic physical reaction, and nothing else.

The moment his fingers mad contact with her bare skin above the stocking on his thigh, he moaned into her neck. "Want you…now." The intense desperation in his voice almost scared her, but more than that, it thrilled her.

With one hand snaking its way beneath her blouse, she felt every ridge detail on his fingertips as he made his way over her belly to wrap around her breast. It wasn't soft or tender or gentle, it was raw and primal and completely unexpected. She had no idea what possessed him, but whatever it was, she was not about to complain. When he pulled at her hip and ground into her, she could tell that this was something he planned. He was already hard and waiting for her.

Sara reached back to grab his ass in order to hold herself to him a little closer. For her efforts, she was greatly rewarded by his hand slipping down into her panties until his fingers were in a position to ply open her folds. The moment his strong fingers touched her nub she was already going over the edge. When she started to writhe in time with the strokes, he pulled her tighter into his body.

When his hand pulled away from her core, she was immediately struck with a deep need for more, but before she had a chance to protest the absence, Gil pulled the other garter off and pushed her panties down over her hips. She tried to assist in their complete removal, but he stopped her by turning their bodies to the kitchen island. The only indication she got about what was happening came in the form of his strangled gasp as he spoke directly into her ear. "Want you…now."

Their bodies surged forward and she held out her hands to brace herself against the counter. When she looked back, he leaned forward to capture her lips again, and thus silencing her questions. However, some of her questions were answered completely when he dropped his trousers and leaned into her, as he hiked up her skirt a little farther.

She was unable to restrain the cry as he plunged into her with a well placed thrust and her walls instantly contracted with the sensation. But Sara was totally unprepared for his hand to make its way back around to her nub. If she hadn't been holding onto the counter, she was pretty sure she would have fallen to the floor. As it was, if it wasn't for the hand he had gripped around her hip, her weakened knees would have taken her down.

His thumb stroked over her nub in perfect unison with the timing of his solid thrusts. She felt each and every pounding slide within her body and the only thing on her mind was the fact that she wanted more. She found herself pressed into the counter, holding it tightly with her white-knuckled grip, desperately trying to stay conscious as he continued to hammer away.

With Gil's powerful hand pulling her hip into him with every thrust, and his thumb keeping time, Sara felt every ounce of his lust and passion, as well as her own. Her breathing turned into panting as her orgasm began to wrack her body. It wasn't long before they were both thrown over the edge of the precipice and careening into the spasmodic ends of their combined climaxes.

His body collapsed on top of her as she rested against the cool tile of the island counter, both of their bodies slicked with sweat and their breath expelled in heaving gasps. Slowly, he began to pull away, but Sara remained flat against the island until he tugged her back up into his arms.

As he snuggled down into her neck, she released a satiated sigh and held onto the arms he had wrapped around her middle. "Well…talk about 'Hello and Goodnight!'" They both laughed at their behavior and relaxed into one another when Sara finally found the energy to speak again. "Not that I'm complaining… But, to what do I owe the honor?"

Gil squeezed her a little tighter and she could feel the heat rising from his cheek as he nuzzled in closer to her neck. "Let's just call it a fit of jealousy."

She turned around in his embrace and shot him with a defiant glare. "Oh no… You aren't getting off with a vague remark like that tonight. Explain."

The blush in Gil's cheeks told her that it was going to be good. However, instead of telling her what prompted his little fit of lust, he took her hand and began walking into the bedroom. Halfway there, Sara stopped in her tracks and demanded an answer. "I'm not going in there until you tell me-"

"It would be simpler to show you." He pointed his nose in the direction of the bedroom and squeezed her hand to get her to follow once again.

With a bit of petulant reluctance, she finally gave in and followed him into the room.

There on the bed, spread out all over the place, were several composition notebooks, which was not at all unusual. Gil would often find a need to go through some old notes for an article he was writing, or just to look something up for a case. She had been trying to get him to have the books scanned into the computer to preserve them, but he was still dragging his heels about it.

He dropped her hand and walked around to the other side of the bed, but when he brought up an old, familiar box to set on the edge of the bed, she wondered why he would have been looking in there. "I was trying to find some notes from a lecture series I used to give, and I had already gone through every other box when I found this one in the back of the garage. It had composition books in it, so I figured it was one of mine. And the date on the side corresponded to the right time frame so…" When Sara saw the year printed on the side of the box, in her handwriting, she nearly swallowed her own tongue.

"You didn't actually read any of tho-" The shy nod of his head made her instantly slam her eyes shut as she winced with the pain of intense embarrassment. "Oh god…I think I may die now."

Gil quickly abandoned the box to return to her side. As he tried to wrap his arms around her, she turned her reddened face away from him. Pulling her back into his chest, he whispered into her ear, "I never knew you were a writer, Sara."

"After reading those…you should be well aware that I'm not." Sara worked desperately to remember everything that would have been in that box, and hoped to high heaven that she had at least gotten all of her journals out of it. Not that there wasn't plenty left in there to fuel years of embarrassment.

During graduate school, and before she started working at the San Francisco Crime Lab, she had taken up writing as a way to keep busy when she couldn't sleep. She'd taken a few courses, because she never wanted to be accused of not possessing the right skills for any endeavor, of course. One of the instructors was a fantasy author and encouraged the class to let their minds wander wherever they might go, in order to get in touch with their own writing styles and themes. Sara found that fantasy was where her mind went, but it wasn't quite the same fantasy realm as her instructor. Hers were far more real, and a hell of a lot steamier. Basically, Sara started writing smut.

Just the thought of it made her blush again, but the fact that Gil had found them, and that he had read at least one made her want to just find the nearest cave to live in for the next twenty or so years. She had never shown a single one of those stories to another living soul, and there she stood with them laid out on the bed before her, mocking at her with the highly erotic tomes held beneath each cover.

Gil nuzzled into her neck and softly said, "I don't know…they certainly worked for me." His delighted laughter made her relax just a little, but the next words out of his mouth may well have put her in her grave. "But I have to admit… I'm a little jealous." He kissed her shoulder and held her in his embrace protectively as he continued, "The professor who inspired that one with the ah, physics experiment…" The rest of his words were lost as she remembered the exact story he was referring to.

She had written it in a fit of sexual frustration, and as a means to exorcise the serious crush she had been carrying after her first forensics seminar. Wanting to protect everyone's anonymity, she changed it around a lot, but the truth of the matter was that it was merely a retelling of the fantasy she had been experiencing nightly since the seminar began. She thought that writing it all out onto paper would expel the images from her head, and cease to torment her with sultry dreams every night. It worked… Right up until the man from the seminar started calling and emailing her.

Gil was still rattling on when she came back to her senses. "I just better not run into him should we ever go to some kind of grad school reunion."

Sara turned around to face him and placed her hands on either side of his face when she said, "You have nothing to worry about." She raised her one eyebrow to a peak, kissed him and then added, "In fact… You have so much more to offer than that guy, that I suspect you'll never see him again."

"Is that so?" He kissed her gently on the lips and asked, "And how can you be so sure of this fact?"

"He was just a visiting lecturer…for a seminar in forensics." Gil's face betrayed his shock the moment he keyed in to what she was saying. "And entomology."

In no time flat, those books were spread out all over the floor. The bed was otherwise occupied.