Why Grissom Shaved

Summary: Forgetting the very end of last season this is my take on why Grissom decided to shave.

Disclaimer: Don't own Sara or Grissom. But if you want to, you can get me Nicky for my birthday.

Sara's head was pounding. It was one of those low steady thrumming ones that screamed that you had way too much to drink the night before. He mind flipped back through her foggy memories. New Year's Eve. The whole Night Shift at Catherine's. Jello shots…and Tequila…and Goldschlager. Bad combination.

She squinched her eyes tighter shut against the pounding and tried to drift back to sleep.

When she felt a large, callused and very male hand drift from her hip up her nude body she smiled and knew she'd slipped into one of her favorite dreams. A pair of surprisingly soft lips and a scratchy beard traversed one side of her neck and jaw line as the wandering hand hesitated for a second then skimmed her breasts and throat to gently cradle her cheek in its warmth.

Sara wanted so badly to return the gesture and run her hands through his hair but she found her hands stuck securely above her head. She frowned; being tied up usually wasn't part of her fantasies.

She cracked her eyes open and found herself not in her own room. Unlike her bedroom this one was unabashedly male with no frills or do-dads all over the place. The walls were a warm gray and covered with pictures she was pretty sure she'd never seen before. The venetian blinds were open to let in the full force of the afternoon sun and she had to almost immediately close her eyes or be blinded.

She blinked against the bright sunlight for a few seconds and then her eyes rolled up to see her hands tied loosely to the bed with two black neckties. She cast her eyes down to see a familiar head of curly salt and pepper hair. The owner was still intent on paying homage to her neck and she really didn't want him to stop.

"Grissom?"

The lips assaulting her neck stopped – much to her dismay – as he pulled away. He leaned over her and propped himself on an elbow as he looked down on her, his eyes dazed from sleep and lust.

"Omigod," she breathed out. "Pinch me, I have got to be dreaming."

The corner of corner of his mouth crooked up slightly as he obliged her and gave her a sharp pinch on the ass.

"OW!…Oh damn, I'm not dreaming!"

Grissom seemed puzzled. "How can you be dreaming? This is my fantasy."

Sara gave him her sexiest 'come hither' look. "Untie me and I'll show you."

His interest was piqued so he slowly reached up and gently untied the silk neckties from around her wrists. As soon as her hands were freed from the slick material Sara reached up and gave the shell of Grissom's ear a sharp yank.

"YEOW!…What was that for?!" He rubbed at his offended ear with a free hand.

Sara gave him her best 'I told you…' stare.

"Oh…" Grissom intoned but didn't move. A small spark of hope flickered in her chest.

"So…?"

Grissom gave a small shrug. "I don't know. I was kind of enjoying the fact that this might have been a dream."

"And now that you know it's real?"

Grissom pondered this for a minute. Sara took the opportunity to peek under the covers…Yep, both naked as the day they were born. He pulled the sheet back up with a scowl. "Sara! Do you mind?"

"…No. You didn't seem to earlier."

His face turned a lovely shade of fuchsia.

She looked up at him expectantly. "So?"

"I guess it all depends on how you feel."

"And if I said, let's just go with it and see where it takes us?" she replied with apprehension.

"Then I would say, I can do that." He leaned down to kiss her but his lips hovered over hers for a second. "Do you think we could keep it our little secret though?"

"…Oh, Ecklie." Sara said with disgust.

"Yes, Ecklie." Grissom agreed and then leaned in to gently explore her lips.

Sara pulled back after a second. "I have one stipulation."

Grissom warily cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Her fingers reached up to gently caress his bearded cheek. "As much as I love how you look with a beard. It's gonna have to go."

"Why?"

She cocked her head to the side, showcasing the abraded pink skin on her neck. "It's a dead give-away Gil. Everyone's gonna see it and they're going to know it's you."

A smile spread his lips. "It's me, huh?"

Her fingers tunneled through his curls. "It's always been you, Gil."