Title: Dreamers on the Rise

Author: Cropper

Pairing: GSR

Rating: Mature for Profanity and Graphic Imagery

Disclaimer: Sadly, the characters herein are not mine. I promise to play nice and return them when I am done.

A/N: Cheryl? You rock. Thanks for everything. The song I have been quoting in every chapter, and which appears in its entirety at the end of this epilogue, is called "Dreamers on the Rise" by John Stewart. If you are so inclined and would like to listen, wobbear has graciously informed me that the song is available from iTunes and is classified as country.

Summary: "There are a thousand paths that have never been trodden – a thousand healths and hidden isles of life. Even now, man and man's earth are unexhausted and undiscovered." Freidrich NietzscheAlso Sprach Zarathustra


Supposing That I Should Have The Courage

Supposing that I should have the courage
To let a red sword of virtue
Plunge into my heart,
Letting to the weeds of the ground
My sinful blood,
What can you offer me?
A gardened castle?
A flowery kingdom?

What? A hope?
Then hence with your red sword of virtue.

Stephen Crane

"Jesus said, 'That which you have will save you if you bring it forth from yourselves. That which you do not have within you will kill you if you do not have it within you.' "

The Gospel of Thomas (70)

Grissom and Sara drove home from the diner and wearily prepared for bed. Sara noticed with a satisfied smirk and ill-suppressed quiver of anticipation that Grissom had not bothered to don his pajamas. In fact, he had shucked his boxers and lay stretched out on his stomach, a private feast sprawled temptingly just for her. She took a moment to admire the way his pale, golden skin tones blended harmoniously with the celery colored sheets before swiftly stripping away her sleepwear and climbing atop him, carefully easing down to straddle his firm buttocks.

Grissom had been more quiet and withdrawn than usual throughout breakfast and Sara knew that he was still troubled by what he had read in Jimmy's journal; that he was struggling to logically comprehend the cataclysmic chain of events that had, along with Matthews' irreparably damaged psyche, somehow conspired to transform a once gentle, idealistic scholar and seminarian into a vengeful, wrathful serial killer. There were no easy answers, but that did not stop Grissom from brooding, from trying to discern where Jimmy had faltered, where his descent into madness and a living, frightening personal hell had begun. Sara did not want Jimmy occupying another moment of their lives. The case was closed and filed away. The killer had done his damage and was gone. He was dead and they remained – together and stronger than before – to follow the meandering path that was their life together.

Grissom buried his face into his pillow to smother a half-choked moan as he felt Sara's damp nudity settle lightly on his rear. She began to knead the thickly knotted muscles bunched tightly along his broad shoulders, knowing that the firm rhythm and press of her palms would not only relax, but also awaken his senses. It was her most potent weapon in a well-stocked arsenal, one guaranteed to achieve maximum results. She rubbed his back in deep, soothing strokes, silently willing him forget, to let the dead rest, to refocus his attention on the dream-rich life pulsing abundantly within the confines of their private, secluded sanctuary.

Sara changed her movements, scooting forward to the small of his back as her touch lightened and grew more sensual. All thoughts of the case faded from Grissom's consciousness as his attention was relentlessly pulled to Sara with every sweep of her magnificent hands. The feel of her against his bare skin, hot, silky and moist, was incredibly arousing and despite the wretched exhaustion that had persistently dogged him since his return from North Carolina, he was hard, very hard. Sara noticed slight change in his breathing and watched as he shifted his weight to accommodate his growing erection.

"Turn over," she softly commanded.

She rose up on her knees to let him roll beneath her and, when he finally settled on his back, gently held his weeping shaft against his stomach and seated herself along its length. Grissom swallowed heavily, his eyes wide and bright, but remained utterly passive, content to let Sara control the moment. She gently massaged his chest, savoring the rhythmic thumps of his rapidly accelerating heart beat, while issuing another quiet order.

"Touch me."

He slid his hands along the length of her thighs, slowly inching upwards before meeting in her center and beginning to softly swirl and explore the exotic secrets she kept hidden from all but him. Grissom had become an expert in unerringly navigating Sara's hidden coves and inlets and used his expertise to coax guttural grunts and groans from her parted lips. She began rocking her slim body along his erection and he freed one hand to grasp the nape of her neck and pull her face to his. Their lips melded in a hot kiss, tongues twining and exchanging tales of want and need, while Grissom's thumb continued to work Sara into a frenzy of erotic sensation. He rolled them over, mouths connected, his hand never leaving the humid haven between her damp thighs. As Sara continued to vocalize her pleasure against his tongue, Grissom slipped two fingers into her depths. He stroked and cajoled as Sara grew louder and more demanding, straining towards the release she knew her lover would unselfishly provide.

Sara pulled her mouth from his and moaned loudly as her orgasm crashed over her in savage, undulating waves of pleasure. Grissom watched silently, awed and secretly pleased, as she completely unraveled and her skin flushed a delightful shade of rosy satisfaction. He continued his gentle movements, helping her recover from her sexual high.

When she at last appeared completely satiated, Grissom removed his had from between her things and captured one of her taut nipples in his mouth, intent on stoking her fires once again. His hands moved across her torso with knowing ease and as Sara returned to herself, she felt his erection rubbing shamelessly along her hip. She knew that their time had finally arrived and tugged and pulled at Grissom until he was squarely atop her, his pelvis resting in the cradle of her trembling thighs, his tip rubbing suggestively against her still-sensitive core. Her hand slipped between their hips to give him a few encouraging strokes before she placed the head of his cock at her opening.

"Push, baby," Sara all but begged, wanting more than anything to finally feel full and complete. They had waited so long and overcome so many obstacles to arrive at this moment. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that they were about to complete another leg of their journey and fulfill yet another dream Grissom thought destined to forever remain in the muzzy twilight of his slumber.

Grissom haltingly flexed his hips and, with one tentative thrust, slipped home. His eyes, almost black in the muted light of the bedroom, were filled with innocent awe and amazement. Sara was certain that she had never seen anything so primally beautiful in her life than the face of her precious man-child as he entered her body for the first time. He remained motionless, trying to absorb the new sensations surrounding him. He was unprepared for the absolute heat, the soft pulses of Sara's slick womb that thrummed along the length of his shaft. All of the reading and research in the world had not prepared him for the perfection, the tightness, the exquisite glove-like fit of Sara's body around him. He knew that he was supposed to be doing something but could not concentrate for he was simply overwhelmed, utterly lost in the sheer confectionary delight of the molten chocolate lave nestled between Sara's succulent legs.

Sara caressed his face tenderly, knowing that he was fighting for control. God! It was such a turn on! She had not anticipated the sheer, unbridled emotion that would accompany the loss of Grissom's virginity. She was close to another orgasm from merely watching the swirling passion and wonder revolve across his normally stoic features. "Just do what comes naturally, Gris. Your body knows what to do. Just let it happen, baby," she panted.

Grissom started moving hesitantly, his eyes locked on Sara's. Her hands slid to his finely muscled ass, caressing the pencil-thin scars, urging him to go deeper, to push harder and faster as she worked a hand between their rocking hips to massage herself. She was more than content to watch Grissom experience the pinnacle of physical love for the first time but knew deep within her soul that he would consider himself a failure if she did not come. It really did not take much effort on her part; she was so close from just observing the maelstrom of wonderment rocketing through his eyes. His lids slammed shut as she shuddered and her inner muscles clenched greedily at his cock and flew back open as he gritted his teeth and soundlessly pulsated through a mind-numbing ejaculation. His sloppy thrusts slowed to a stop and he bonelessly collapsed on Sara, eyes closed and face buried in her neck. His shoulders were shaking violently and it took her a minute or two to figure out that he was silently crying.

Sara was stunned. Sure, this first effort had been quick and Gris had been unable to sustain any sort of rhythm, but it had been so beautiful, so brutally honest, that she wanted to savor the moment forever like a droplet of fine wine rolling across her tongue. He had trusted her enough with his heart and his body to let go and give in to age-old physical demands that he had never been able to fulfill. True, he had no technique, but as far as Sara was concerned, his love-making had been totally satisfying. She cherished Grissom's loss of innocence more than she had ever enjoyed the efforts of other, more knowledgeable lovers. She had never experienced the physical and emotional aspects of love together before and was astounded that it had taken an emotionally repressed, fifty-year-old-virgin to show her the way.


He slowly raised his head to look at her, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

"You okay, baby?"

He nodded in the affirmative and lay back down, still shivering. "Thank you," he murmured softly into her neck.

"For what?"

"For loving me. For not giving up on me. For letting me love you."

Sated, they fell prey to the relentless exhaustion that had stalked them throughout the very difficult and harrowing struggle that had haunted both Matthews and Grissom. Entwined and still joined, they drifted off, sleeping a perfect sleep free from demons and abounding with hope and joy. Both had finally found everything that they needed, things they hadn't known they were missing until they stumbled upon them together. Their arduous journey was complete. The wind had blown for many years and finally, their dreams were no longer on the rise. They had crested and Grissom and Sara could only marvel at the blissful inner peace. They were together. They could finally rest, free to dream new dreams of a future full of hope and promise.

Dreamers on the Rise

Once, we were dreamers on the rise
We were the sun, where the sun never shines
And we were gold, where the night bird only flies
Ah, that's a long time you know, for that kind of wind to blow
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise

And twice, we said we'd begin again
And we made a vow, that we'd remain as friends
And falling down, we said we shall rise again
Ah, that's a long time you know, for that kind of wind to blow
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the mend
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the mend

And if three wishes came into my life
I'd say one, was to gaze into your eyes
And I'd say two, would be turning back our lives
Three's a long way to go, for that kind of wind to blow
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise

Once, we were dreamers on the rise
We were the sun, where the sun never shines
And we would go, where the night bird only flies
Oh, that's a long time you know, for that kind of wind to blow
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise
Long time ago, we were dreamers on the rise

Words and music by John Stewart