The Absence of Stars
Jan. 17th, 2007 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peridot_linesTitle: The Absence of Stars
Author: viggygirl
Rating: adult, for sexual situations
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: Some time around 7x14 or so.
Cross-posted at:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
geekfiction, gsrdrabbles and bestkeptprivate
A/N: This was inspired by the prompt "snow" atgsrdrabbles as well as at bestkeptprivate I started and stopped this one a couple of times, but now it's finished. A tremendous thank you goes out to several people on this one. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jenbachand for the terrific beta, thanks for the comments and suggestions. gipsy Thank for assuaging my fears on this one. Marin I swear you're one of my biggest fans, and I don't even have a fan club, thank you for reading through this so many times and all the nice things you said (you're the best roommate ever!)
Sara watched the white flakes falling around the plastic snowman. What had begun as a blur of white was gradually settling on the brim of his hat, and catching the tip of his carrot nose. A slight tilt and the peaceful scene began to plummet into chaos again, as the snow swirled within the globe. There was a furious blur of white, swirling in the tiny world, eventually calming and settling again. She set the snow globe back on the end table, watching the remaining flakes drifting down; briefly wondering if Grissom would return with some tacky version of a snow-covered Walden Pond within a globe like the one before her.
Sara shook her head with a rueful grin as she considered the object before her. She watched the flakes settle one last time, before stretching out on the couch and wrapping herself in an afghan. The television was on, in the hope that it might lull her towards a restful night’s sleep; if she could just drift off for a minute…
As she squeezed her eyes shut her mind released the memory of their awkward goodbye at the apartment, followed by something much worse at the lab.
Why would he do something- say something like that there? Someone could have...
She trailed off at the thought, her eyes opening to stare blankly at the flickering screen before her. An infomercial, the friend of insomniacs everywhere. She watched as two over-animated hosts demonstrated what would probably be a useless gadget to an equally over-eager audience.
Willing her eyes to close once more, she replayed their last words.
She hadn’t planned on seeing Grissom at the lab, they had managed one awkward goodbye earlier in the day; their words tainted by her perceptible unhappiness and feigned apathy.
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
Sara looked back into her locker, attempting to stave off the pain of the moment until he was gone. Just a little bit longer, a little bit longer.
When she looked back, he was still there, just a step closer.
She looked up at him with a flicker of surprise, unsure as to why he was still there.
“I’ll miss you.”
Then he was gone.
Four weeks without him, for what? So he could recover? Rediscover himself? Realize maybe he didn’t need her?
Sara slipped into a light doze, plagued with dreams of Grissom. He was over her, under her, his embrace surrounding her in comforting warmth.
The warmth seemed to spread and when she opened her eyes she was no longer at home, instead she was lying in Grissom’s bed.
A slow glance downward revealed delicate pink lingerie and Grissom, slowly kissing his way up her legs. Each touch of his lips, moving closer and closer to her center, seemed to ignite a fire inside. The exquisite burn and cooling of his lips and tongue caused her to squirm, denying her hopes that he might finally move beyond his maddeningly slow pace.
His tongue slid up the inside of her thigh, hands stroking ahead, the satin pooling at his wrists.
He paused at her center, lingering above her as his hot breath caressed the glistening petals of her sex.
“Ssssara,” he rasped, his tongue slipping out to taste the arousal coming off her body in waves.
He lapped deftly along her folds, his fingers parting them to find the throbbing bud, so eager for his touch.
The anticipation was too much. One smooth stroke and Sara felt her body stiffen, waves of pleasure coursing from her core.
Sara woke with a start, the power of the dream causing her pulse to race. The passion her subconscious seemed to be begging for lingered and she felt her hand began stroking down her stomach; itching to relieve the tension left in its wake.
As her fingers slipped into the slick heat between her thighs she couldn’t help recalling the times she’d touched herself; the moments before she knew the feel of his hands and the hot press of his cock inside her. So many elements had been left up to the imagination then… how would he kiss me, where would he touch me, what would it feel like… going over the edge.
Now, her own hand felt almost foreign, as his had once also. Her cool fingers swiped over her clit. For a moment they were his, but she dismissed the thought as her head rolled to the side. The hot throb increasing as she pressed with an insatiable urgency. Images raced through her mind, no longer figments of her imagination. Each memory fanning the embers of the fire between her legs; his lips pressing feather-light kisses across her collarbones, fingers probing her most intimate depths with a seemingly omniscient knowledge of what she wanted, needed, his tongue sliding over the crest of her ear as his body pressed her down into the bed. Vivid memories rushed back, causing sensations and desires she could only long for.
She hated that she still wanted him in this moment, wanted the fantasy she had once imagined, and the truth she had discovered. Images of past and present converged in her mind for a moment, and as she flicked her thumb over her clit in a frustrated, frantic press, she attempted to escape them all; to find her release.
She missed him, despite the pain he had caused, and the fear that maybe this was all a mistake. Missed the way he moved inside her, the way he pressed his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, how he quietly murmured his love as his frame collapsed on top of hers. More than the sex, she missed the comfort he seemed to exude every time they were together. Grissom had seemed so secure in their relationship; sharing parts of himself she thought she would never see.
Now, he was on the other side of the country, dealing with his demons, or retreating from her; maybe both. Didn’t he know she had demons, a history that still haunted her? She shared and Grissom… just left.
“No!” she cried, not wanting to think of him for just one minute.
Her wrist ached, the tension at her center almost more than she could bear. Her fingers slipped once more through her cleft, dragging over her clit, a shocking sizzle going through her center. Her eyes slammed shut as her climax hit. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. There were no stars, or silver light, just Grissom. It could only ever be Grissom.
Author: viggygirl
Rating: adult, for sexual situations
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: Some time around 7x14 or so.
Cross-posted at:
geekfiction, gsrdrabbles and bestkeptprivateA/N: This was inspired by the prompt "snow" at
gsrdrabbles as well as at bestkeptprivate I started and stopped this one a couple of times, but now it's finished. A tremendous thank you goes out to several people on this one. jenbachand for the terrific beta, thanks for the comments and suggestions. gipsy Thank for assuaging my fears on this one. Marin I swear you're one of my biggest fans, and I don't even have a fan club, thank you for reading through this so many times and all the nice things you said (you're the best roommate ever!)Sara watched the white flakes falling around the plastic snowman. What had begun as a blur of white was gradually settling on the brim of his hat, and catching the tip of his carrot nose. A slight tilt and the peaceful scene began to plummet into chaos again, as the snow swirled within the globe. There was a furious blur of white, swirling in the tiny world, eventually calming and settling again. She set the snow globe back on the end table, watching the remaining flakes drifting down; briefly wondering if Grissom would return with some tacky version of a snow-covered Walden Pond within a globe like the one before her.
Sara shook her head with a rueful grin as she considered the object before her. She watched the flakes settle one last time, before stretching out on the couch and wrapping herself in an afghan. The television was on, in the hope that it might lull her towards a restful night’s sleep; if she could just drift off for a minute…
As she squeezed her eyes shut her mind released the memory of their awkward goodbye at the apartment, followed by something much worse at the lab.
Why would he do something- say something like that there? Someone could have...
She trailed off at the thought, her eyes opening to stare blankly at the flickering screen before her. An infomercial, the friend of insomniacs everywhere. She watched as two over-animated hosts demonstrated what would probably be a useless gadget to an equally over-eager audience.
Willing her eyes to close once more, she replayed their last words.
She hadn’t planned on seeing Grissom at the lab, they had managed one awkward goodbye earlier in the day; their words tainted by her perceptible unhappiness and feigned apathy.
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
Sara looked back into her locker, attempting to stave off the pain of the moment until he was gone. Just a little bit longer, a little bit longer.
When she looked back, he was still there, just a step closer.
She looked up at him with a flicker of surprise, unsure as to why he was still there.
“I’ll miss you.”
Then he was gone.
Four weeks without him, for what? So he could recover? Rediscover himself? Realize maybe he didn’t need her?
Sara slipped into a light doze, plagued with dreams of Grissom. He was over her, under her, his embrace surrounding her in comforting warmth.
The warmth seemed to spread and when she opened her eyes she was no longer at home, instead she was lying in Grissom’s bed.
A slow glance downward revealed delicate pink lingerie and Grissom, slowly kissing his way up her legs. Each touch of his lips, moving closer and closer to her center, seemed to ignite a fire inside. The exquisite burn and cooling of his lips and tongue caused her to squirm, denying her hopes that he might finally move beyond his maddeningly slow pace.
His tongue slid up the inside of her thigh, hands stroking ahead, the satin pooling at his wrists.
He paused at her center, lingering above her as his hot breath caressed the glistening petals of her sex.
“Ssssara,” he rasped, his tongue slipping out to taste the arousal coming off her body in waves.
He lapped deftly along her folds, his fingers parting them to find the throbbing bud, so eager for his touch.
The anticipation was too much. One smooth stroke and Sara felt her body stiffen, waves of pleasure coursing from her core.
Sara woke with a start, the power of the dream causing her pulse to race. The passion her subconscious seemed to be begging for lingered and she felt her hand began stroking down her stomach; itching to relieve the tension left in its wake.
As her fingers slipped into the slick heat between her thighs she couldn’t help recalling the times she’d touched herself; the moments before she knew the feel of his hands and the hot press of his cock inside her. So many elements had been left up to the imagination then… how would he kiss me, where would he touch me, what would it feel like… going over the edge.
Now, her own hand felt almost foreign, as his had once also. Her cool fingers swiped over her clit. For a moment they were his, but she dismissed the thought as her head rolled to the side. The hot throb increasing as she pressed with an insatiable urgency. Images raced through her mind, no longer figments of her imagination. Each memory fanning the embers of the fire between her legs; his lips pressing feather-light kisses across her collarbones, fingers probing her most intimate depths with a seemingly omniscient knowledge of what she wanted, needed, his tongue sliding over the crest of her ear as his body pressed her down into the bed. Vivid memories rushed back, causing sensations and desires she could only long for.
She hated that she still wanted him in this moment, wanted the fantasy she had once imagined, and the truth she had discovered. Images of past and present converged in her mind for a moment, and as she flicked her thumb over her clit in a frustrated, frantic press, she attempted to escape them all; to find her release.
She missed him, despite the pain he had caused, and the fear that maybe this was all a mistake. Missed the way he moved inside her, the way he pressed his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, how he quietly murmured his love as his frame collapsed on top of hers. More than the sex, she missed the comfort he seemed to exude every time they were together. Grissom had seemed so secure in their relationship; sharing parts of himself she thought she would never see.
Now, he was on the other side of the country, dealing with his demons, or retreating from her; maybe both. Didn’t he know she had demons, a history that still haunted her? She shared and Grissom… just left.
“No!” she cried, not wanting to think of him for just one minute.
Her wrist ached, the tension at her center almost more than she could bear. Her fingers slipped once more through her cleft, dragging over her clit, a shocking sizzle going through her center. Her eyes slammed shut as her climax hit. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. There were no stars, or silver light, just Grissom. It could only ever be Grissom.
