A/N: We own nothing! Just having fun with characters from CSI and creating our own little fanfiction for continued GSR! Thanks for reading!

A Few Days Continued, Time in the Triangle: Chapter 1

The letter was curled from the touch of nervous fingers and frequent handling even though it had arrived only three days ago. Gil Grissom could not resist forming a smile as he read what he already knew—what had been discussed and talked about at least once every waking hour since the letter arrived. It was addressed to someone else, his wife, and his smile was one formed of love, pride, and possession.

He could hear the noise outside the open windows and knew the sounds meant happiness as Sara played with her children—their children. Every day, she walked with the two oldest as they waited for the school bus. In the afternoon, she was the one who usually walked to the end of the driveway to await their return. Something about the way she watched for them added to her contentment in life.

Every afternoon, from bus to play gym or the porch, his wife spent an hour playing. He had figured out this time was as much for her as it was for their children. He stood and watched as his dark haired daughter jumped from platform to rope, wrapping skinny legs around knots before landing in dust. Eli, their oldest, Warrick's son, shouted something before sliding down a bright yellow tube. Little Will, their baby, was safely placed in a blue swing that gently moved with an occasional push from his mother. The high-pitched squeals came from the twins, Annie and Ava, as they chased each other underneath the raised platform. Their blonde hair reflecting sunlight as their pink and yellow clothes reminded him of butterflies.

In the few minutes it took him to think about each child, his grin had grown across his face and taken years from his actual age—a change he never realized.

With a quick, last look, he turned and headed into the kitchen. His afternoon contribution waited on the counter. Their housekeeper had baked a favorite — almond shortcakes—and he added lemonade and cups to the tray before joining his little tribe.

He settled on the top step of the porch, waved, gave the dog a treat, and began to pour lemonade into cups. He grinned and shook his head as he surveyed the porch. It was a tumbled mess—no other words described it better. There was a clear path between front door and steps, but between a traditional porch swing at one end and a swinging bed on the other, there was a jumble of ride-on toys, blocks, a variety of shoes, an umbrella, and the dog.

Four children rapidly appeared, ignoring their snack for a few minutes as they swarmed over him; even the two who had been with him all day added hugs and kisses before taking a cup and a piece of cake. Sara arrived last, carrying a squirming baby who wanted to walk.

Another hour passed before parents settled on the swing to watch as five children sorted out toys and played. Bizzy, their oldest girl, attempted to read to Annie, and Eli and Ava played some made-up game that included crawling after their young brother.

"Have you made a decision?"

"Gil, I—I would love to do this, but I can't. Six months—taking everyone away from home…" Her voice trailed to quiet. Sara looked at him with wide eyes. "What? You think we can?" She laughed, a little sarcastic chuckle. "We go shopping and it's a major ordeal."

He reached for her, pulling her against his chest. "Sara, I am beyond proud of you. Five, six years and look at what you have accomplished. I mean professionally, not just with our kids—a book, two published papers, just this year—four times you've spoken at conferences. This is a gift for your mind. Take it—we'll go—we can work things out."

Will had tired of the chase game and ran in baby steps to his mother. Sara picked him up and he snuggled against her neck.

"Five, Gil, five kids."

He chuckled. "Bath time!" He announced, "Who's first?"

The four older children scrambled around him as he held the door open. Bathing five children in one bathroom, even when Eli opted for a shower, took an hour, but got everyone clean for dinner. And shortly after their meal, he and Sara would have much needed quiet time as their children slept.

At some point between the second and third bath—Eli's shower had turned into two rinses when Grissom noticed soap running down his back, and the twins disagreed over who was wearing a certain nightgown—a renewed idea formed in his brain. They needed another bathroom. Sara would like a big tub, lots of hot water; he wanted another shower—one with room, and a bigger kitchen. He sat on the toilet seat as Annie and Ava doused each other with water, giggling. His idea formed into a vision. The girls needed their own bathroom; this one would work for Eli and Will.

Bizzy interrupted his planning process with a hairbrush. He smoothed her curls and pulled her dark hair into a ponytail. Except for her blue eyes, this was a miniature Sara. As she talked, telling him details of her school day—she was excited about learning—he knew this was, or should have been, the childhood of her mother. Even the child's smile spread across her face in a replica of the one he had loved for so long.

She helped her sisters; their stout arms and legs and blonde hair in opposite contrast to Bizzy's long, slim ones. Giggling little girls wrapped in towels crowded the bathroom. Yes, he thought, the time had arrived for more space.

Later, with full stomachs, a favorite story read to the girls, Eli reading his own book, school bags unpacked and repacked for the two oldest, the house gradually quieted leaving the adults to clean the kitchen and have their own quiet time.

"I'm going to turn it down," Sara said as she stacked the last plate in its rack.

"You should take it."

Sara turned, leaning against the counter. "I—I don't see how we can," she stopped talking before her voice betrayed the turmoil in her brain. Her hands knotted a dish towel.

Grissom took the towel, wrapping arms around her, kissing her lightly until lips met. He felt her smile.

"You know, we need a bigger kitchen," he said. "Definitely another bathroom—one for the girls, one for us."

Sara pulled away watching him with surprise.

"And the playroom could use some work. When we eat—we already touch elbows. You should have your own office—or we could…"

She pushed him away, her palm resting on his chest. "What are you talking about?" She asked, puzzled.

"Leaving the house for six months," He took her by the hand and guided her to their shared office, which had been a dining room once. "You take the research position. We turn the house over to the Garcia brothers with plans for a new kitchen, a couple of bathrooms, expand the playroom. When we return, everything's finished."

Sara's look—open mouth astonishment—caused him to laugh. He pulled her into the chair with him. "We've talked about doing something—making the house more livable."

"Six months—I'm not sure," but a flicker of possibilities sparked. "We would need to pack up everything."

"Movers."

"Decide what to take with us."

"Give everyone a few boxes—ship them ahead of us."

Sara rolled her eyes. "How do we get five kids and a dog across the country? Who takes care of your bees?"

"Road trip!" He was smiling. "It will be fine. We can take our time—sightsee. Go see a dinosaur park in Colorado—Eli would love that. The bees—I can get another beekeeper to come out. You know our neighbors--the nuns will guard this place with Bible and prayer! It will be fun—a change for everyone."

Sara knew nothing could be as easy as his words indicated. The last trip to Vegas had been a near disaster with two children vomiting for half the trip for no obvious reasons. Grissom's comment in the middle of cleaning up the van was "We know which three got my cast iron stomach."

She sighed. "I'm not sure."

"What else? They are offering a generous stipend, providing housing. The university has a school where Eli and Bizzy can go—right on campus. This is ground breaking work—you've said so!" His fingers combed her hair. "You deserve this, honey."

Sara had leaned against his shoulder. "I don't want the kids unhappy."

"They will be fine as long as we are together. They love to travel. It will be an adventure!"

"Housing may be some two bedroom student apartment."

He picked up the letter. "It says 'a house on campus'." He continued reading. "The Spicer House, located on campus, is available for you and your family. It is a former home management house and is now used for visiting faculty." He reached for his keyboard. "Let's find this house." He clicked several times, bringing up a very green aerial view of a university campus.

"It's a beautiful campus," Sara said.

Grissom clicked again for street view. "It was spring—see the flowers." He followed several streets. "There is no street address and this is a big campus."

Sara moved to her desk and in a few minutes had an address. She read aloud, "The Spicer house served as a home management practice house from 1938 until 1970. Female students lived and learned how to manage a home by living part of the semester in the house. For several years, infants and children lived in the home so students could practice parenting skills." She looked up at him. "I've never heard of this. Here's the address—corner of Azalea Drive and Trinity Street."

He clicked through several screens. "Found it." He leaned back. "Call tomorrow." He turned the screen toward Sara.

"Oh," she whispered. The screen showed a large red brick house, a small porch on the front, a larger side porch on one end and a glass enclosed space on the other end of the house. "Is that a covered pool?"

"I think it's a greenhouse—a solarium."

"Do you think we would live in the entire house?" She counted twelve windows across the front of the two-storied house.

"You can ask when you call tomorrow," Grissom said. "Where's that file you keep of house ideas?" He grinned as she puckered her lips before smiling. "I know you have one."

"Do you really think we can pull this off, Gil?" She had moved back to his chair studying the photograph captured on screen. "There's a fence for the backyard."

He kissed the back of her neck. "Sara, you are the smartest person I've ever been around—I've known that for years. You have managed this house, had four babies, written a book on a difficult subject, become well-known in the circle of experts in the field. And this university doing premiere research asks you to come in as a visiting researcher. You can do this—you need to do this! We can take care of everything else."

She felt the chuckle begin deep in his chest. "I'll be the house-dad, get the kids to school, fix lunch and dinner while you work, do laundry." She laughed, knowing he meant what he said, but also knowing his household skills left out fifty percent of what needed to be done.

"And our house—do you think—I trust the Garcia brothers—but to leave for six months."

"I'll fly back a few times." He wrapped arms around her waist. "We can do this."

Much later, in the quiet, dark house, Grissom's hand reached to find Sara. He knew she had not slept; he had gone to bed leaving her writing a list.

"You asleep?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"No." She rolled toward him. "I didn't want to wake you."

His arms encircled her. "Sara—we can work this out." He kissed her hair as she snuggled against him. "We'll divide and conquer! The kids will think it's a six month vacation." His hands played along her spine as familiar, desired warmth spread from his lips, into his heart, down his belly and centered in his groin. All their years of being together, sleeping in the same bed, and he responded like a teenager to having her body next to his.

His voice softened, became a husky whisper, as he said, "We'll work things out."

Sara's hands found his face; her fingers lifted a silver curl. "I love you, Gil." Her lips touched his nose, his chin, before meeting his. She relaxed, inch by inch, as he returned her kisses. She loved this man who had given her life—calm, steady, unwavering, and passionate.

His hands moved along her spine finding the rise at its end, his fingers sliding along the cleft of her butt as she moved closed to him. "Are you okay?" He asked.

As an answer, she smiled, a muted giggle reached his ears before she kissed him again, moving her body in an undulating wave, rising and falling gently against his body. "Of course," she whispered. Two decades of loving this man had not diminished her obsession or her delight in knowing that he wanted her— physically, emotionally, mentally — he was her possession, just as she knew she was his.

His thumb hooked the waistband of her panties as his fingers slipped the fabric off her hips. His other hand was busy with her top, pushing it up, taking a second to pull it over her head. Quickly, her panties were off, her body shivered as he pulled her to him.

Sara's hands had been working on his clothes—not yet removed, but loosened, pushed aside, opened. The feel of his hard sex against her belly caused her to gasp. She always did, even when she tried to prevent the quick intake of air, the catch in her breath was so involuntary, so sudden, that it surprised her even as she tried to control it. She smiled, knowing this was the passion that maintained physical love.

Grissom's hand moved against her intimate feminine core; he smiled as their lips met. Stress, tension always caused a need—and for years, Sara's need had been for him, to make love to him in a hurried method she called 'a quickie' and tonight, she was stressed. Her hand stroked, her fingers caressed, she moved above him, lips never leaving his as her knees straddled his hips. She moved again, enough to ease his erection against the soft, warm moisture created inside her. She pulled away as he felt blood pounding against the most sensitive area of his body. He groaned and she returned her body's opening to his, spreading her knees as she guided him into her. Quickly, the pulsating beating of his blood turned into a rhythm of both bodies, hands clutching, moving with familiar touches in ways of long-time lovers.

Sara's panting breath warmed his neck. He felt another kind of tension developing as muscle contractions indicated her impending climax; he held her as she came, breathless, murmuring quiet words. Her legs wrapped around his as he rolled, feeling her lips against his neck, her tongue tasting his skin as her hands gripped the round muscles of his butt. His thrusts developed their own cadence and, swiftly, his own explosion of male passion caused him to collapse into the warm embrace and kisses of his wife.

A/N: Our schedule for this story is to post a chapter every 5-7 days, longer chapters than usual, so please hang in there and enjoy this road trip, new environment for our fav couple and 5 kids!