RATING: M (For a little nooky.)

PAIRING: Grissom and Sara

SPOILERS: Post episode for The Two Mrs. Grissom

DISCLAIMER: The story is mine, but the characters are the property of A. Zuiker and CBS.

A/N: There were so many themes in "The Two Mrs. Grissom", the long-distance marriage, Sara's relationship with her mother-in-law, the secrets Gil keeps, and of course, the great sex, that I couldn't tackle them all in one short story. Also, I've wanted to explore their back-story for a very long time, so I'll touch on it briefly in this three parter: "Love, Play, Eat", which I hope will do justice to this wonderful episode that two very talented CSI writers gifted to us GSR fans.

Love, Play, Eat

Part I - Love

When Gil's cab pulled up in front of his house, there was a scattering of pink clouds on the horizon. The sun would eventually rise above them and warm up the city, but not for a while yet. The air was cool, barely 40 degrees, but blessedly dry, a welcome relief from Peru's almost constant January rain fall.

His monthly visits from South America usually began with Sara meeting him at the airport, but this time, Gil wanted to surprise her. He had missed his scheduled trip a few days before, and although she hadn't complained, he knew he had disappointed her. But that wasn't what had compelled him to rush to the airport and board the next plane to the States. Learning that she'd had a very difficult week, and why, had accomplished that.

Sara had been stingy with the details, but in a troubling email, his mother had not. Filled with remorse for having toed the line of disrespect towards his wife, his mother had written to ask for his advice on how to make it up to her.

"...I hope that Sara will forgive me," she wrote. "As much as a mother never wants to see her son hurt, I don't want to lose you. If this strange marriage of yours is what you want, then I'll stop meddling in your affairs."

Gil snorted a little at that, though not unkindly. Betty Grissom's controlling personality was legendary. To keep her out of his affairs, he had mastered the art of keeping secrets at a very young age. His mother genuinely believed she knew what was best for him, and she wasn't above an 'I told you so' either. Unfortunately, her heart had been set on him marrying Julia, a woman she held in high regard, a nice enough woman, Gil had grudgingly admitted after their first date, but he wasn't attracted enough to her to sustain a long-term relationship. Nevertheless, as the years passed, his mother's heart had remained steadfastly in Julia's camp, so that when he announced he was marrying Sara, a woman she barely knew, the weight of her disappointment would have been crushing had he not been expecting it.

To spare Sara's feelings, knowing that in time his mother would come to love her, he kept her disappointment, and later her criticisms about their unconventional marriage, to himself. In light of the week's events, that was one secret he shouldn't have kept. With him being away so much, Sara and his mother hadn't had many opportunities to get to know each other, let alone bond. She was totally unprepared for learning about Julia and his mother's opinion of their marriage.

As he inserted his house key into the lock, Gil sucked in a breath to calm the flutter in his stomach. He definitely wasn't spending enough time with his wife if the anticipation of seeing her still made him this jittery. Not that it was an unpleasant feeling.

Hank met him at the door. "Hey boy," he whispered as he stooped to pet the dog's head. Hank danced excitedly around Gil's legs, whimpering his pleasure as he stroked the boxer's brown and white snout. Gil put his travel bag down on the floor and gave the dog a rough rub. "You miss me boy? Huh? Where's mommy? Is she sleeping?"

Hank danced another circle around him before quickly taking the stairs down to the bedroom. At the door, he stopped, panting, and waited for Gil to catch up. "Good boy. Go to your bed, now." As the dog obediently left for the large blue cushion in a corner of the study, he quietly entered the room and went to sit on the side of the bed where his wife was sound asleep.

Sara didn't know it, but he still wanted to pinch himself sometimes to make sure it wasn't a dream; that she really was his wife. He had waited his entire life to find someone he could connect with the way he had with her; it disheartened him now that after all the obstacles they had overcome to be together, their time as a couple consisted of a few stolen days each month in between assignments.

Gil kept those feelings to himself. Sara seemed happy with the arrangement, and if every time she bragged about how well their unconventional marriage worked he felt a little more alone, he kept that to himself too. But watching her sleep now, sprawled on her side with her arms tightly hugging his pillow, something twisted in his chest, and he wondered if perhaps his wife was keeping secrets of her own.

With a sigh, he took off his jacket and tossed it on the chair near the bed. Sara stirred, and then burrowed deeper into his pillow. Even in slumber, she never seemed entirely at rest. As he thought of kissing away the twin lines between her brows, he was reminded of the first time he had watched her sleep. It seemed a lifetime ago now, but he vividly remembered the feelings that had made him want to get the hell out of San Francisco and never look back.

And that was pretty much what he did, except for the never-look-back part. Try as he might, he couldn't get her out of his mind. How could he forget a woman who stirred him intellectually, physically, and made him feel like he could make the sun rise?

He smiled to himself. He fought a good fight, but he hadn't stood a chance.

The blanket had ridden down her slim body, as it often did when she wore the satin nightdress he had given her last Christmas. She said she liked the feel of it against her skin. He liked the feel of it against his hands. He particularly liked removing it. For now, though, he caressed her hip and she began to wake up. She stretched and slowly opened her eyes, and then started a little.

"Gil?" She abruptly sat up. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that a way to greet your husband?"

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck. He took her into his arms and for a long moment, held her close. "I'm so glad you're here," she muttered into his shoulder, making him smile. He loved coming home.

"I missed you," he said, and she drew back to look at him. Her eyes were moist. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and sighed. "I just...need you sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

Sara shook her head and kissed him, a long anticipated and familiar press of lips against his. Yet, it still managed to give his heart a jolt. And, as usual since their self-imposed separation, what started out as a simple kiss hello quickly became much more urgent and arousing.

His hands gripped her hips and slid up to her waist, taking the nightdress with them to reveal the brief, lacy panties underneath where his fingers itched to play. Pressing her down on the sheets, he lowered his mouth to her abdomen; kissed between her breasts, teased her nipples through the sheer satin of her gown until she was moaning her pleasure. As he slipped the nightdress over her head, he knew that as long as he lived, he would never tire of looking at her, never have enough of the sensations he experienced with her. His fingers tangled in her hair and he lowered his head to capture her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss until his breath felt heavy and he broke it off, panting.

"God, I love this. I love you," he said, and Sara reached down and stroked the evidence of his desire through his trousers. It was all the encouragement he needed to hop out of bed and strip off his clothes.

And as the sun dried the clouds over Vegas with the promise of a warm afternoon, all was quiet in the house except for their sighs of pleasure as Gil proved to his wife just how much he had missed her.

XXXXX

While Sara had her turn in the shower, Gil was in the kitchen, in his robe, whistling a happy tune as he filled Hank's bowl with the premium dog food she preferred over the cheaper bulk brand he used to feed him. "Nothing too good for you, hey boy?" he said, giving his dog an affectionate pat. As Hank wolfed down the reportedly tasty morsels—Gil would take the producer's word for it—he refilled the water bowl and disposed of the can.

He had just put the water on to boil for some tea and dropped four pieces of bread in the toaster, when the house phone rang. It was the phone company's Relay Service Operator asking to speak to Sara. "She's not available at the moment, but I'll take the call," he said. "Hi mom!"

While he waited for the operator to relay his message, and then his mother's response, he plated a chunk of cheese and some fruit, and then popped a grape into his mouth.

"Gil! Why didn't you tell me you were coming home so soon?"

"It was a last minute decision," he said, adding the cheese platter to the breakfast tray. "I just got home a little while ago."

He added aromatic tea leaves to a two-cup pot and poured the hot water over them. Then, with the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, he buttered the toast.

"Well I'm glad. I was calling to ask Sara out to dinner at Battista's tonight. They have a lot of meatless dishes."

Gil smiled, touched by his mother's thoughtfulness. He wasn't overly worried about the two most important women in his life hitting it off once they got to know each other better. His mother could be uncompromising, but Sara had patience and kindness to spare.

"She's in the shower," he told her as he put the final touches to their breakfast tray, "but I'm sure she'd like to see you. Why don't you come over and have dinner with us? We're making pasta this afternoon."

Just then, he heard the water shut off and he carried the tray into the bedroom. He set it down on the night table and went into the bathroom just as Sara was stepping out of the shower, wonderfully naked.

"Mom," he mouthed, pointing at the phone. "I asked her to join us for dinner."

"Oh, okay," Sara said. She reached for a bath towel and wrapped it around her body. As she turned around to grab a smaller towel for her hair, Gil sneaked up behind her and pulled her back against him. She angled him a quick grin over her shoulder and he dropped his head to inhale all the wonderful fragrances she used on her body and in her hair.

He brushed his lips against her cheek as the Relay Operator said: "I'd love to. I'll bring dessert."

"We'll see you later then, mom. Bye." After officially ending the call and thanking the operator, he watched Sara vigorously towel-dry her hair for a moment before taking over with a gentler touch.

"Mom called for you. She wanted to invite you out to dinner."

"Really?" Sara looked understandably stunned. "Well, that's a first."

"She's really trying to make amends for her behaviour this week. I hope you don't mind that I invited her to join us for dinner."

"Of course not."

Gil carelessly disposed of the towel on the toilet seat and drew her into his arms. "Come back to bed with me."

Sara smiled and planted a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "I know you like to make up for lost time, but if you want to be awake for your mother this afternoon, you should probably get a couple of hours' sleep."

"There's time. I want us to talk first," he said, watching her drape both towels on the towel rack to dry.

Sara pursed her lips in amusement. "Talk, huh?"

"Yes, talk. It's highly recommended in a marriage."

Now she looked intrigued. "Okay," she said slowly as she slipped into her robe. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?"

"Yes. Us."

She frowned and looked at him for a long moment. "I figure you told your Mom to give me the African violets, which means...you were in contact with her before our video call. What did she tell you about what happened this week?"

"We'll get to that later. First," he grabbed her hand and led her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. "I made us some breakfast. It's been a while since we had breakfast in bed." He smiled as he recalled one particularly memorable morning in a Paris hotel room. He could tell by the wicked look in her eyes that she was remembering it, too.

"Oh look, no strawberries or chocolate syrup. What are we to do, monsieur?"

Gil hooked an arm around her waist and tossed her down on the mattress. He then crawled in over her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "This morning, Madame Grissom," he said, mimicking how the French pronounced his name, and then continued with the playful accent, "we eat toast, drink tea, and talk. Then, I sleep."

Laughing, Sara got out from under him, arranged a couple of pillows against the headboard and sat back as he set the tray on the mattress between them. He propped himself up on an elbow and handed her a cup of tea.

They were quiet for a long moment as they ate, and then Sara caught his gaze, a question in her eyes.

"What?"

"Does it bother you that I kept my maiden name?"

"No. I already told you that."

"I think it bothers your mom."

"Well, many things bother my mother."

"Including you marrying me instead of Julia?"

He looked up at her, what was left of his appetite suddenly gone. He threw the rest of his toast onto the tray and wiped his hands clean. "She told you that?"

"Not in so many words, but she obviously prefers her, and I doubt she'd be so critical of your marriage if you were married to Julia."

Gil didn't think that was true, but it wasn't the point. "Look, as much as I wish my mother would stop meddling in my life, I know she means well, and—" he hesitated before proceeding warily, "—in this case, I happen to agree with her."

He heard her soft gasp, and the color seemed to leave her face.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You prefer Julia, too?"

"No. Honey. God no. I meant our living arrangements."

"Oh—of course." She made a show of looking unaffected, but he could see the color slowly returning to her cheeks. "I thought you liked it better this way. When we worked together, it didn't really matter if you spent a few extra hours at the office because we were together pretty much all the time. But in Paris, when I wasn't working and you were at the Sorbonne, I knew you felt bad about leaving me alone so much. So when you encouraged me to come back here, I figured it was because you didn't want to feel pressured to be home all the time."

"The only reason I encouraged you to come back here is because I knew how bored you were with nothing to do in France. I wanted you to be happy."

Sara gave an exasperated sigh and moved the tray to the night table. "Please tell me that we haven't been apart for the past year because of a misunderstanding?"

"Does that mean you don't want us to live apart either?"

She nodded.

"And all that bragging about how special we are because we don't need to live together?"

"Posturing. I thought it was what you wanted to hear."

"Hmm. Do you do that a lot; tell me what you think I want to hear?"

She gave him a charming look and drawled, "No," in such a way that he didn't believe her at all. He'd have to get to the bottom of that later.

For now, he said, "Come here," and drew her down into his arms. "There's a teaching position here in town that I've been considering. I would be home most of the year, and could still take on the occasional consulting job during the summer. You could even travel with me sometimes and still keep your job at CSI if that's what you wanted."

"What do you want?"

"Simple. I want to see my wife more than four days a month."

"I want that, too." She nestled deeper into his arms. "I guess your mother was right. We can all learn something from our elders."

"Well, yeah, but let's not tell her."

He felt her smile against his shoulder. For a long moment, she was quiet and he hoped that she would sleep awhile with him. He never rested well on planes at the best of times, but a cranky baby on his row had made sure of it this time. The layers of thick curtains at the window kept the room dark enough to sleep during the day and Gil closed his eyes. He couldn't remember when he had stopped needing his space in order to breathe, but now he breathed easiest with her arms lovingly wrapped around him. And just as he felt himself beginning to doze off, Sara started fidgeting.

"You can't sleep?"

She shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me about Julia?"

He let out a long breath. "It was a brief thing a few years back. It meant more to my mother than it did to Julia and me, I assure you. I suppose I should have told you, especially since she and my mother are close, but I didn't want you to think—," he broke off abruptly. He wanted to be completely honest with her from now on. "Look, I started dating Julia right after we met. My mother had been trying to get us together for a while and when I came back from San Francisco, it seemed like the sane thing to do."

"Sane? I don't understand."

"I wanted to...move on. Forget you."

"Baby, we kissed, once, and then you said goodbye."

"I know. But you mattered a little too much for my peace of mind. Julia was supposed to be a diversion, but in retrospect, my heart wasn't really into it. The relationship didn't progress beyond a few dates."

"I still wish you'd told me about her. Finding out about your intimate relationship with another woman in interrogation in front of Brass...I wanted to crawl into a hole."

"Intimate?"

"She made sure I knew you slept together."

"Well, we didn't." Sara tipped her head up and looked at him, clearly surprised. "We came close, but not until a couple of years later when I ran into her at my mom's school and she asked me out. You were seeing that paramedic and I was—"

"Jealous."

"Okay, have it your way. But in my defence, you had led me to believe you only had eyes for me." Sara chuckled. They'd had this conversation before. "Anyway, she invited me to her place for dinner and I fully intended to stay for breakfast, but I got called in to work when a cab driver accidentally hit a kid and a mob beat him to death. Remember? You worked the case with me." She nodded. "Julia was pissed off, and I didn't really care, so that was the end of that."

Sara sighed. "She made it sound so much more...involved than that, and since you never mentioned her I had to wonder why."

"I'm sorry for not telling you about her. I promise, if I ever not sleep with another woman again, you'll be the first to know." Sara laughed and pinched him lightly around the waist. "Hey."

Ignoring his playful protest, she dropped a quick kiss on his mouth and said, "Get some sleep while I go to the market."

Gil wasn't ready to let her go. He sneaked a hand inside her robe and gently fondled her breasts. He felt himself harden in response to her soft skin, her firm nipples. "You know what would help me sleep?"

Sara moaned low in her throat. He could tell she was tempted and to further his goal, he covered her mouth with an indecent kiss. When he drew back, she gave him a coquettish grin and said, "How can I help?"

END OF PART ONE