Wow. 

 

That’s all I can think for a bit, as silence fills my apartment and my heart rate slows a little.  Wow, wow, wow. 

 

I mean, I always suspected it, but I was never sure.  After all, Grissom’s a restrained kind of guy, and it’s been years since he’s had any kind of serious relationship.  But I guess it’s like riding a bicycle, because...wow. 

 

Finally I walk away from my door, straightening my camisole; my coat is long gone.  My skin still tingles from the touch of Grissom’s hands...such amazing hands.  I figured they would know their way around a woman, and I was so right. 

 

Okay, my heart rate isn’t dropping much.  When I suggested we neck, I wasn’t really thinking about where that would go, except that it was an acceptable alternative to dragging Grissom off into my bedroom and having my way with him.  When he smiled, I took his hand to lead him to the couch, but before we got there he stopped me and... 

 

Y’know, I’ve never thought much of first kisses, not since I was about thirteen or so.  My first was at a party and tasted of bubblegum, and I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was.  It was years before I did, and even then, first ones tend to be a little awkward, or just casual. 

 

But this one...to have Grissom slide his fingers up over my cheeks, pushing my hair out of the way, and take forever to get as far as my lips...I thought I was going to pass out with anticipation. 

 

He didn’t taste like bubblegum, either.  He tasted of sweet Darjeeling and aroused male, and he actually had me shaking a little just from the first brush of his lips.  It’s not often that Grissom comes across all alpha, but at that moment all I could do was let him have his way, and that meant slow. 

 

But it also meant tender.  Almost, I have to say, reverent.  Our mouths barely touched at first, and even that made me dizzy.  I had been waiting so long. 

 

The memory makes me grin so wide that I feel like the top of my head will fall off.  I wrap my arms around myself and laugh, absolutely high with the success of the night.  It had been perfect. 

 

Bending, I pick up my shoes from where they’d landed half under the couch.  I vaguely remember kicking them off, but at the time my attention was taken up by…other things. 

 

It isn’t often I feel dreamy, but as I cruise around my apartment straightening things a little, I’m just about hitting Cloud Nine.  I catch myself humming while I set a couple of glasses in the dishwasher; as I put fresh towels in the bathroom I have to stop and stare at myself in the mirror. 

 

It makes me blink.  I haven’t looked like that since...well, I can’t remember actually looking like that before.  Maybe when I got my acceptance letter to Harvard, but I hadn’t had quite that curve to my smile then, the one that said I’d been kissed long and well. 

 

Among other things. 

 

Oh, we’d started with kisses.  That first gentle one turned into two, and then more, getting warmer all the time, until we somehow found ourselves dropping down to my couch so we could get even closer than we already were.  Grissom was everything I’d ever imagined--better than--big and strong and yet not overwhelming.  He let me shove that sports jacket off his shoulders, neither of us caring when it hit the floor, and while we started upright on the couch, we went horizontal pretty quickly. 

 

Grissom may have lost weight, but he’s still just soft enough in all the right places.  Good for snuggling as well as necking, not that we’d got a lot of snuggling in, but part of me did notice and file it away for later. 

 

It takes me a minute to realize that I’m just gazing at my reflection with kind of a silly grin.  A closer look shows that my lips are slightly swollen, and there’s a faint tinge of red on my throat where Grissom’s beard brushed me. 

 

He’s marked me. 

 

Not that I really mind.  I touch the flushed skin with the tips of my fingers, reminding myself that the last few hours actually did happen. 

 

Besides, he’s marked too.  Particularly that one spot under his right ear where I got a little overenthusiastic, but honestly, he tasted so good...and it wasn’t like he didn’t approve of it at the time, if a gasp and his hips moving under mine had been any indication. 

 

I wander back out of the bathroom and flop down on my bed, rolling over to peer at Percy sulking in his bowl, a spot of purple among the green. 

 

My body is still humming, but in the quiet dimness of my room I let myself go beyond that.  Grissom had made a commitment to me, not just with his seduction plan but with its fulfillment.  Before he’d left, I’d been thoroughly seduced even if we hadn’t gotten as far as actual sex yet, but he’d also proven something far more important than lust.  He was ready--ready to be with me, ready to see what we could become together, ready to see what the future held for us both. 

 

It feels incredible.  I almost can’t believe it, that after all this time my wistful dream was coming true.  My heart is beating heavily just at the thought, at the memory of his eyes unguarded at last and the knowledge that I would see them so again. 

 

Soon. 

 

Quite soon, in fact. 

 

I bounce to my feet and throw back the duvet.  The sheets aren’t very used, but I want clean ones in their place before Grissom returns. 

 

We spent hours on the couch, kissing and caressing and touching one another.  Eventually Grissom stretched out flat on the cushions with me on top of him, a position that pleased us both, and we whispered and laughed and moaned as we learned each other--mapping out our bodies by touch, by fingers and lips and occasionally tongues.  We hadn’t gotten as far as removing any clothing, but we were pretty rumpled by the time we quit, and had to refasten a few buttons. 

 

And as Grissom had made his way to the door, all I could think about was that I didn’t want him to leave.  First date hell--we’d known each other for almost a decade.  So as we hugged each other one last time I’d taken a chance, and leaned forward to his ear to ask him to come right back. 

 

And stay.  With everything that implied. 

 

Let’s just say, he didn’t refuse. 

 

I strip the sheets from the bed and bundle them into my hamper before pulling out a fresh set from the linen closet and remaking the bed.  It looks like another of my fantasies will come true very shortly. 

 

I have to wonder how many of his we’re going to fulfill, too. 

 

It would be at least a couple of hours before Grissom got back, since he’d said he had a few chores to do, so I change out of my good clothes and scrub the bathroom.  It gives me something to do and reassures me that there isn’t any new grunginess hiding somewhere I haven’t noticed.  Then I put on some music and do the kitchen, singing along and wondering if it would be too much to pounce on Grissom the second he got back. 

 

And wondering, too, how soon it would be okay to tell him what I’d known for years now--that I love him. 

 

Maybe that can wait a day or two.  After all, I don’t want to scare him. 

 

Eventually I put away my cleaning supplies, change my top for something nicer, and brush my hair.  As I come back out to the living room, I spot his jacket hanging on the corner of the screen, his silent promise that he’ll come back.  My scarf is draped next to it, reminding me of Grissom’s whisper in my ear as he unwound it from my neck. 

 

Frankly, after what he said, I’m never going to look at it the same way again... 

 

A knock sounds on my door.  Smiling, I go to open it. 

 

end