Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or the characters

A/N: This is another that will not be updated regularly. Proof-reading was minimal. Oh, and for those who have gotten frustrated at me sticking to canon, this story will only very briefly follow their real story, and then it'll go off on it's own.

If you do choose to read, please review. It makes me smile. :) Enjoy!

Chapter One: Impulse

I wasn't the type of girl who had one-night stands by any means… I was conservative in my love life—always monogamous and committed, always waiting until or past the third date to kiss, always cautious about who I trusted and who I let in. Furthermore, I was very level-headed. The only emotion I ever got swept up in was anger—I have one hell of a temper—and I think before I act, I look before I leap. I'm not impulsive. Ever.

So you can understand that it was with great surprise that I found myself not only in a bed that wasn't mine, but in a bed that wasn't anybody's—a hotel bed. I hated hotel beds—a single thought to what a single UV scan would reveal made my skin crawl. Despite that, I was here, pressed deliciously between those questionable sheets and the sexiest man I had ever had the pleasure of even seeing, let alone touching.

I guess, even now, I can't truly explain what came over me. …Maybe it was those blue eyes, or the boyish grin… or the positively erotic way he said "evidence…"

Maybe I should just start at the beginning…

I was nearing the end of my third year at Harvard, looking forward to a summer internship with my favorite psychics professor. Finals were over, with the exception of an introductory forensics class I'd taken on a whim—instead of a final, we were having a guest lecturer come in—attendance to the lecture counted as the final exam. The guest speaker himself promised to be interesting—he was an entomologist (not so interesting) but he worked for one of the best crime labs in the country.

Needless to say, nerd that I was, I arrived twenty-five minutes early—before the guest lecturer himself had even arrived. My teacher gave me a knowing smile when I entered, probably not even remotely surprised to see me there.

Ten minutes of reviewing the forensic entomology book I'd borrowed from the library and I was enthralled—I found myself wishing I'd been prepared and gotten the book weeks ago, so I could get the full experience out of the lecture.

…When Dr. Gilbert Grissom entered the lecture hall, now sparsely populated with early students, I realized that my five senses and a room to be alone with him were all I'd need for a full experience. Never in my life had the mere sight of a man reduced me so quickly to sheer physicality—synapses firing, hormones raging, senses overloading, and body heating and reacting so strongly I blushed, feeling certain it must be painfully obvious to those around me and to him… for his eyes had now locked on mine, and I could not tear myself from them.

My sudden interest in forensic entomology dissipating, I doubt I heard a word he spoke during the entire lecture, and when every other student rose, rushing for an exit, I slowly mad my down to him, our eyes holding each others' again.

I didn't know what to say to him when I reached him; I just knew that I was drawn to him like a Lepidoptera to a flame. Fortunately, he didn't seem to need words. I stopped before him and we spent a moment simply gazing into one another's eyes, enjoying the proximity. I drew in a deep breath, smiling, and he spoke.

"Dinner?"

I nod, beaming, but we don't make it that far. He takes my hand as we leave the building, heading for, I assume, his vehicle. But, of course, as I'm too busy gazing at the god of a man beside me, I stumble over a crack in the sidewalk, and he catches me, arms around my waist, as natural as anything.

I don't know exactly who kissed whom first in that moment, yet there we stood, having exchanged nothing but a single word and a myriad of amorous gazes, wrapped up in the most passionate kiss I'd ever known.

His lips were soft on mine, moving gently yet hungrily, drawing me in, until I was positively breathless and aching with need. His tongue slid against my bottom lip seductively, before sliding into my mouth without needing nor waiting for an invitation. The second it flicked gently against mine, a jolt shot through me, straight down my spine, coiling into an uncontrollable longing in the deepest part of my abdomen. A moan escapes my lips at the contact, and then his hands are gripping me tightly, a deep groan echoing up from his throat.

I gasp as he breaks away from the kiss, those indescribably blue eyes searching deep into mine, and apparently seeing the answer to a question, because he nods to himself, and speaks to me a second time. "…Do you have a place we could go?"

I'm nodding before I realize really what he's asking, and then I'm shaking my head instead. "…I have a roommate. Your hotel room?"

He nods frantically, pulling me rapidly behind him to his car and leading me decisively to the passenger seat to let me in.

I worried, as he walked around to his side, that the time spent in the car—awkward without conversation—would change the urgency of the moment… make him change his mind. And so as soon as he was seated, I let my fingers slide up his thigh to brush softly against him.

He moaned out loud, his hips rising just slightly to increase the pressure. "…We'll never get there if you don't stop."

I grin. "I'll never stop if we don't get there…"

He looks at me, a desperate man, for one long moment—and then he's reversing out of the parking lot recklessly, and driving much too quickly, while my fingers seek out his dimensions, to wrap around as best I could through his pants and apply pressure. My slow yet persistent strokes elicited erratic breathing and a myriad of sounds—from groans and moans to actual whimpers of longing and growls of frustration—and by the time he had parked outside his hotel room, he would certainly not be able to walk inside without drawing attention to the result of my attentions…

He looks at me in frustration, and I ease his discomfort, getting out and walking around to pull him out—his eyes are wide, but I pull him tight against my back, and though it certainly doesn't solve the problem, it will sufficiently hide it. I grin. "I hope it's not a long walk…"

He pushs against me, grinding his erection hard. "It's too long already…"

And with that we began to move, him guiding me through a set of back doors, and into an elevator, which was thankfully empty. I rotated my hips back against him and he gasped, pulling me back hard, his hands tight on my waist. A Ding! Rings out, and then he's pushing me out of the elevator, down a short hallways, and frantically pulling a key from his pocket to unlock his door.

He pushes me through it, almost roughly, and slams it behind him as if in great relief. Taking a single, long, frustrated breath, he looks me up and down.

"Good lord, you're beautiful…" he looks at a loss for a moment, and I realize he had wanted to say my name at the end of that sentence… but I'd never told him.

"Sara. And you're not so bad yourself… Dr. Grissom." I added, in my best bedroom voice.

He growled again, kissing me with pent up passion and lust and desire, walking me rapidly backwards until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I let myself fall back onto it, our lips never breaking apart.

Though every touch and every kiss and every caress was urgent, nothing felt uncaring. He was not a man using a woman for sex—he was a man having sex with a woman. The difference was tangible every time his fingers contacted bare flesh—which was more and more often, as slowly we began to follow our bodies' leads and pulled clothing from each other as if it were nothing more than an irritation.

But once completely naked, pinned between the aforementioned sheets and the aforementioned man, I sense his hesitation, and again, our eyes meet. They're asking for permission, and I know that mine grant it. There's more hesitation—"I… I fly out of town tomorrow, Sara. Are… are you sure?"

I don't know, truly, how a person like me got into this particular situation—but I was sure, and I wanted to leave no doubt in his mind. I arched my body up against him, and moaned, "God yes…" and he draws in a shuddering gasp, those amazing eyes closing and then reopening, with a new fire present. And then I feel him against me, pressing at my entrance, and then slowly sliding within me.

I had never, ever felt so good… no other man had ever felt as fulfilling… and I was flung into a delirious kind of pleasure as he began moving within me, his breathing picking up in time with mine, his lips coming down to taste mine again and again.

"Oh, god… so… so good. Doctor… doctor… Griss… oh god."

A surprised chuckle bubbled up from his lips, and he tried to speak, between heavy panting.

"Sara… call me… Gil… not… not Dr… oh god you feel good, Sara, you feel so… so good."

We tried to make it last, even though it felt amazing… we slowed down, we switched positions, and I swear I even heard him reciting insects by class, order, and phylum under his breath… but the feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, so unbelievably pleasurable… that it wasn't long before I was close, and begging him to come with me, which he happily obliged.

We collapsed, exhausted, in a heap of sweat and heat and satiation, and slept deeply, reveling in the beauty of the passion we had shared.

The next morning, he kissed me awake, telling me that he had an early flight—neither of us were upset, or bitter… We showered together, and made love again—starting against the shower wall, but finishing, soaking wet, on the bathroom floor—and then dressed, and he bought me a coffee and drove me back to campus, dropping me off at my car.

I left my name and phone number for him, and he smiled and tucked it into his pocket—maybe it was just a show, but it did make me feel like he wanted to keep it. It made me feel good. I kissed him again—deeply, passionately—just to be sure he remembered, as he was leaving, how much he would be missing me… and then I got into my car.

We smiled, and waved, and drove off in different directions, and though I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, I just had a feeling that my life was going to be different from now on—I was different, because of this man.