A/N: We've reached the end of this little story! Thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed so far, I appreciate it more than you know.
Thanks, ILoveJorja, for ALL your help on this throughout. It would have been a different story without you.
They stood in the front hallway of Sara's apartment, Grissom pressing her as close to him as he could without injuring her arm, but Sara stood limp in his embrace.
"What's wrong, honey?"
She wriggled out of his grasp a little.
"I don't know how you can even stand to look at me right now," she said guiltily. "Gil, I'm so sorry. I don't even-"
"Don't," he interrupted her softly. She glanced up at him. "Don't, Sara. Seriously. You've been through enough, we've been through enough. It doesn't even matter any more, now that I have you back."
She still looked unsure and Grissom reached out to touch her cheek. She leaned into his touch and Grissom felt a low rumble tremble through his abdomen. It had seemed like forever since she accepted his affection.
"Just know," he continued. "That I love you, I forgive you, and I missed you so much."
She pressed herself against him, putting her one good arm around his middle this time, and buried her head in his chest.
"Do you forgive me?" he said into her hair.
With his chin resting on her head, he couldn't see her expression, but her next words came out confused.
"For what?"
"For not giving you the attention you deserve," he answered. "I won't do that again. I don't ever want you to forget how much I love you."
Sara lifted her gaze to meet his and, finally, Grissom recognized the woman who looked back at him. It was the Sara he'd fallen in love with, almost lost, married and couldn't live without. His Sara.
He felt her coming nearer to him, their breaths mingling, lips only centimeters apart. He felt her start to kiss him, slow and hesitant at first, but as he slipped fingers in her hair and her good hand gripped at his back, it grew more urgent. Her tongue was in his mouth, she knew what that did to him, and, sure enough, he soon felt his knees buckling against him. Sara showed him no mercy and backed him up against the wall, nearly knocking over a pile of letters on the hallway table, stronger than ever, even while still recovering. Their mouths and tongues were thrashing against each other and Sara's body was so close, he felt it was a sin that there was clothing preventing him from touching her, really feeling her. He felt an overwhelming desire for his wife, after being so long prevented from being with her.
And yet, as Sara started working on his neck, he couldn't help but glance at the bruises on her neck and chest, and her still casted arm. The last thing he wanted to do now was hurt her.
She must have sensed his hesitancy, because she pulled away, a look of slight concern on her face.
"Is everything okay?" she breathed.
"Yeah," he smiled at her. "I just… don't know if you're ready for this."
"I'm always ready for you."
His knees almost gave out again. Her soft, warm mouth was on the skin of his neck again, and he had a harder time pulling away again.
"Sara, I don't want to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me," she said between kisses.
"But-"
She pressed a finger to his lips.
"Gilbert," she said tantalizingly. "Please. I want this. I want you. Now."
She resumed her exploration of his neck, and he let her, tilting his head back against the wall for better access. Her hand lingered on his chest, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and slipping her cold hand underneath the material. Her touch made him tremble.
"God, Sara, I've missed you so much."
She nibbled on his ear a little before pulling away from him just slightly.
"I'm going to need your help."
"Help?"
She shrugged her right arm out of her jacket sleeve, but looked up pleadingly when it hung from her other shoulder.
He chuckled at her and carefully guided the jacket over her cast. She nuzzled her face in his chest and looked up at him.
"More."
His fingers lingered at the hem of her silky plum shirt, but he started tugging it over her arms and head, leaving her standing before him with only the dark lace of her bra contrasting with the soft paleness of her skin. He ran a hand down her bare arm and left goose bumps in its wake. He trailed a finger down her chest and across her stomach, and she leaned into him again.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, Sara."
They began to stumble towards the bedroom, Grissom's finger working at the button to Sara's jeans. She shook them off her legs before they got to the doorway. Grissom placed her carefully atop the mattress, running his hands down her sides, appreciating and memorizing every curve of her body.
"You are beautiful."
He crawled on top of her, mindful of her arm and other injuries, and began to kiss every inch of her, making his way to her mouth, where he first kissed her softly, then deeply. She managed to work his shirt off, and he relished the feel of her skin against his. But again, he paused. Sara looked up at him, concerned.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I just… I don't wanna-"
"Don't," Sara assured him and interrupted him at once. "This is what I want. You are all I want."
He couldn't help but smile at her and he resumed kissing her, this time, on the crook behind her ear. She whispered to him.
"Although, I think you'll have to be, you know, on top, this time," she said. He pulled away to look at her, bemused. She nodded towards her cast. "Logistics."
At that, Grissom burst out laughing. His wife, discussing the logistics of their sex. When he cracked open his watery eyes, she was smiling at him, but studying him curiously.
"What?"
"I love your laugh," she said seductively. She reached out and brushed a finger through his hair. "I love your hair."
Her finger trailed down to his chin. "I love this."
She continued down his body, pointing out things she adored.
"But most of all, I love-"
She reached out suddenly, grabbing his crotch through his jeans.
"This."
Grissom gasped at her touch and was suddenly aware that he had too many clothes on him, and she still had too many on her, if he was to be perfectly honest. He took care of that problem in a matter of seconds. Before he knew it, it was nothing but him and Sara, touching each other, feeling each other, being together and all over each other. Their kisses were both deep and urgent, their touches both lingering and curious. Every finger she laid on him felt like electricity, bringing a jolt of life to his body, lighting him up like only Sara could. It was both romantic passion and burning urgency, their touches, needy and loving at the same time. He felt as if the events of the past weeks faded away to distant memory when he was with Sara like this, the only reminders the lingering bruises on her body. His mouth touched them, too, as if wishing to kiss them away.
It was when Grissom kissed the inside of her thigh, and Sara moaned in response, that it was made quite clear that neither of them could take it much longer. He wriggled a little, under the sheets, positioning himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, she stared back at him, and they stayed locked in their gaze.
"Do I tell you how much I love you?" she whispered, breaking the silence.
"You don't need to," he replied. "I know."
She smiled back at him, and Grissom pushed into her, hearing her gasp as he filled her. He rocked against her, being gentle to her, as her hips swiveled with his movements, like two pieces, two parts of something whole that were made to work together. Their lips met again, and this time, it was all urgency, hard breaths and pants, as they started to climb together. Grissom could feel her quivering beneath him, yet he still slipped his fingers between them, rubbing her gently, then harder, in the very spot he knew she liked. Sure enough, Sara's head threw back onto the pillow, her back arching. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her jaw clenched, and Grissom knew she was close.
"Go, honey," he panted. "Let go."
Miraculously, Sara managed to open her eyes and grab his gaze.
"Together?" she gasped, fingernails digging into the flesh of his back.
"Go," he repeated, all he was able to manage.
He felt Sara release, and he was right behind her, crashing into the place only Sara could take him. As he came down, he didn't roll of her, yet stayed above her, kissing her sweaty forehead, her flushed cheeks and everywhere in between. He couldn't get enough of her. He didn't even pull out of her, as he eventually moved to lay beside her, not wanting to lose the intimate contact.
So they lay, Sara's breasts against his chest, their noses almost touching, as Grissom noticed how blissfully happy she looked for the first time in weeks, and he felt at ease, for the first time in weeks. Everything was right again.
No more words were spoken for a very long time afterwards, not when they began to kiss, not when they made love again, only twenty minutes later, and not even when they laid still again, Sara's back to Grissom's chest this time, his arm draped loosely around her waist and his thumb making absent patterns on her stomach. No words were needed. They had each other.
They stayed wrapped in each other for what seemed like hours, until Grissom began wrestling against the sheets, struggling to twist his body around.
"What are you doing?" Sara giggled.
"One last thing to take care of," Grissom responded, reaching for the phone.
He punched in a handful of numbers, obviously not caring what time of the night it was, and pressed the phone to his ear for a few rings before he began talking. Sara couldn't hear the other side of the phone line, but she could guess well enough to whom he was speaking.
"Grissom. Look, I… understand. I'm not happy about it, but I understand. I'm not angry with you, disappointed in you and I don't want to put you into a Peruvian mass grave. I really just want to forget the entire thing happened. Can we do that?"
There was a pause. Sara assumed Nick was ardently agreeing.
"Good. And take this friendly warning however you like, but I do need to tell you, if you ever kiss my wife again, I'll turn you into a decomp."
Grissom smiled.
"Goodnight, Nick."
He hung up the phone and turned back towards Sara, a wide smile on his face. She curled back up to him, practically nose-to-nose.
"I think he got the picture."
"Just covering my bases."
Sara laughed and Grissom's smile stretched wider.
"What?"
"I love hearing you laugh," Grissom answered. "I missed it."
Sara responded by closing the few inches between them, pressing her lips to her husband's and kissing him, deeply and passionately. They didn't stop for a long while afterwards, both seemingly desperate to make up for lost time. It was very late by the time Grissom spoke again, and Sara was laying pressed against him once more.
"Sara?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Grissom felt his wife smile against his chest.
"I love you, too."
He felt his whole body warm at her words. Only she could ever make him feel this complete. He stroked her curls absentmindedly.
"Hey, Sara?"
"Hm?"
"Can we… not do the long-distance any more?"
Sara froze a second before wiggling around in the sheets, propping her head on her elbow to see him properly.
"Really?"
"Really. I mean, if you want to."
Sara looked like she could cry. But instead, she leaned into kiss him again, and when she pulled away, she murmured a single word onto his lips.
"Yes."
He pulled his wife tighter to him, feeling happier than he ever had. If he had his way, he'd never spend another night apart from Sara. And by the way she was squeezing him back, it looked like he just might have his way.
The End