Author: Michmak

Summary: The evening after Disco Daze. What happened after the body shots? More angsty then the first piece, but Ecklie gets his.

Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the ones I create for the purpose of this story. All the rest? Not mine.


"Want me to make Eggs Benedict while you shower, Cath?" Warrick wandered into the living room, droplets of water standing out like crystals against his wiry hair, a towel draped loosely around his waist.

Catherine was standing at her stereo, and Warrick smiled when he saw the disc in her hand.

"Jim Croce? He's pretty mellow, isn't he?"

Catherine grinned at him as she turned up the volume. "I'm in a pretty mellow mood right now. Surprisingly, I don't have much of a hangover. I guess exercising when you're drunk prevents them." Her tone was husky and teasing, as she swiveled to admire him. "The things you do for that towel, Warrick!"

Warrick flashed even white teeth at her, "Don't start, Catherine. We've gotta get ready for work. I suppose the cat's out of the bag now."

"Meow," she responded. "That's okay. I'm sort of glad. No more hiding. But you're right, breakfast, and then work. We do have to get going. I can't wait to see Grissom and Sara - this is going to be fun."

* * * * *

Sara felt as if someone was trying to pound a mallet through her head. Groaning softly, she burrowed under the blankets covering her, burying her face in the slightly furry chest she had been using as a pillow.


Wait a minute.

Where the hell was she?

Forcing herself to open one blood-shot eye, she peaked through the slit of light where the comforter didn't touch the bed frame. She recognized the sheets - her own. What she didn't recognize was the body sharing them with her - at least, not at first.

Shutting her eye tightly, she furiously racked her brain, looking for answers.

Greg - Disco - Beer - Electric Jello - Body Shots - Grissom - OH MY GOD! She made a valiant effort not to squeak in alarm, willing her heart to remain calm, her breathing to remain even. Under her cheek, she felt the rise and fall of Grissom's chest, heard the even tempo of his heart. He was so warm.

Sara didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Finally - FINALLY - she and Grissom had moved past the questioning, the flirting that wasn't really flirting, the wonder-if-they're-interested stage - and Sara remembered none of it. It was so unfair!

She felt a rough palm move languidly up her side, from her buttocks to just underneath her breasts, and she tried not to groan at the sensations. Her skin was hot and tingling all over.

Was Grissom even awake?

* * * * *

The soft form cuddled against his own was comfortably heavy. Grissom felt as if he had been wrapped in a cocoon of cotton and skin, warm and content in the lethargy of his body. His hand traveled of its own accord from the firm muscles of her butt, up her side, to slide around her ribcage just under her breasts. He could feel the soft weight of them against the back of his hand, and the feeling was not unpleasant. Flexing his fingers experimentally, he grazed his fingernails lightly across her skin. He felt her body tense and relax in response, and smiled to himself.

He had always wondered what it would be like to wake up with Sara.

With Sara.

With. Sara.

All of a sudden, the pounding in his head raged to the forefront, making him wince and jerk in pain. He realized he was awake. This was no dream. If he wasn't so scared of waking her, he would be hyperventilating right about now.

What to do?

What to do?

Try to escape. Get out before she woke up, and looked at him in disgust. He had taken advantage of her drunken state this morning; it made no difference he had imbibed as well. He was her supervisor, for God's sake. He was older than her. He should have known better - he should have been strong enough for the both of them.

And now, he would have to face her. His dreams had been answered just hours ago, and already they were turning into nightmares.

What would she say?

What would she do?

He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to remain calm. She could accuse him of sexual harassment - that was worst case scenario from a professional perspective, but he didn't think she would do that.

She could - she could hand in another Leave of Absence. That would kill him, but it would be perfectly within her rights to do so.

She could tell him it was a mistake, they were both drunk, and she only saw him as a friend. She could tear his heart out. That was worst case scenario from a personal perspective. It was worst case scenario period.

Grissom's hands tightened around her uncontrollably, and his heart started to pound, the sound loud even in his own ears. He was going to lose her. He felt like crying.

* * * * *

Sara knew Grissom was awake. His breathing was different. Why wasn't he moving? Why wasn't he saying anything? She kept her eyes tightly shut, afraid to make the first move. Both of them lay there trapped by their own fears and insecurities; doubts and self-recrimination assailing them from all sides.

Finally unable to stand the silence any longer, Sara worked up her nerves to whisper his name.


Grissom closed his eyes tighter against the throaty whisper, "Sara."


Sara sighed and rolled over, sliding up the bed and propping her head on a pillow. She shivered as Grissom's arms dropped away, amazed at the immediate sense of loss she felt. Barely daring to look at him, she smiled in the vague direction over his left shoulder.



Silence. She swore she could hear the loud ticking of her watch, recklessly tossed across her nightstand. Grissom had turned to his side, and was looking at her intently, his blue eyes miserable. She felt like crying.

"Listen, Sara - about what happened -" Grissom began. Sara interrupted him.

"Don't say it was a mistake," her voice was hoarse, her brown eyes glittering darkly against her pale skin. She turned her focus on him fully, and Grissom realized she was holding back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"That's not any better than it was a mistake."


Then Sara spoke again. "Do you want to elaborate on what you're sorry about?"

Grissom closed his eyes against the hurt in hers, sighing as he did so. "You know what I'm sorry about, Sara."

"Sorry that we hooked up when we had both been drinking, or sorry we hooked up at all?"

"Pardon me?"

"I think my question was fairly straight forward. Is it the circumstances or the situation that's bothering you?"

Grissom didn't respond. Sara was watching him intently now, searching his face for signs of - what? Grissom closed his eyes against her, but not before she saw the longing in his. All of a sudden, she smiled.

Sliding towards him on the bed, she gently slid her hand up to his face, caressing his cheek tenderly, smiling when his eyes popped open and burned into hers.

"What are you doing?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Chalk," she smiled back. "You never answered my question, but I think I know the answer. I'm not sorry, either."

"What did you just say?" Against his will, his hand had risen up to her face as well, thumb lightly rubbing behind her ear, palm cupping the velvet of her cheek.

"I'm not sorry. If I had known Tequila Body Shots would get you into bed with me, I would have suggested them a lot earlier." She tilted her face into his hand, softly kissing his palm, loving the way his skin flushed and his pupils dilated at her words.

"I've wanted you forever, Grissom. Please tell me you've wanted me too," her husky whisper broke through his resolve. Nodding his head mutely, he simply stared at her in wonder. The smile spreading across Sara's face rivaled the sun, and Grissom felt an answering smile spread across his own.

* * * * *

Sara smiled as Grissom paid the cab driver. Thankfully, they had taken a cab back to her place last night, so their cars were still sitting in the parking lot at Express when they arrived.

Grissom squeezed her hand as he walked to her car with her, taking her keys and opening her door. She turned to face him, marveling at how wonderful it felt to wrap her arms around him and lean into him for a kiss.

"I'll see you at work," Grissom whispered.

"Not as much of me as you saw this afternoon," Sara teased. She smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again.

"I don't know how we're going to be able to keep this a secret," Grissom muttered as he pulled away from her.

"I don't really know why we need to - boss."

* * * * *

Sara arrived at work before Grissom. Schooling her face as best she could, she strolled down the hallway towards the lounge. Greg and Nick were sitting in there, drinking coffee in amiably silence when she walked in.

Greg grinned at her. "Hey Sara. How did you like Express?"

Sara shrugged. "Just another dance club," she responded coolly. Nick watched in silent amusement, a big grin on his handsome face.

"Just another dance club where Grissom licked you, you mean. So - spill. Greg says you two left together."

Sara tried hard to fight her blush, arching an eyebrow at Greg as she poured a coffee. "I'm surprised Greg saw anything, considering he was being devoured by that redhead on the dance floor."

Nick grinned even wider as Greg blushed, but didn't back down. "Nice try to deflect attention, but you and Grissom are so much more interesting. I see you don't deny it?"

"What's to deny. We did leave together. He took a cab to his apartment; I took a cab to mine. Big deal."

"If you say so, Sidle. Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want. Nothing happened. If you must know, I'm a little embarrassed about the whole incident. I blame you for buying the body shots." She studied Nick intently, as she said this, deciding to turn the tables on him. "Nice turtleneck, Nicky. I don't need to speculate what you were doing."

Nick laughed. "You can speculate all you want, but you're imagination isn't that good, Sara."

Greg snorted, "Another lucky girl, stroked by Stokes." He just barely ducked in time to avoid Nick's good-natured cuff to the back of his head. Sara laughed.

"'Stroked by Stokes' - good one, Greg. You should add that to your list of cheesy pick-up lines, Nicky."

Catherine and Warrick walked into the lounge room at that moment, catching the tail-end of the conversation. "Please - Nick, I have to tell you, man to man, cement shoe those lines. They suck."

Easy laughter filled the room, the teasing continuing back and forth. Every once in a while, some one would try to steer the conversation back to Sara and Grissom, but Sara easily managed to deflect their queries.

It wasn't until Sara was on her third cup of coffee that the jovial mood in the room changed. Ecklie had walked in on the good-natured ribbing, and his presence had the same effect as a lead blanket on a helium balloon.

"Ecklie," Sara acknowledged, noticing he was staring at her and smirking, "something I can do for you?"

Ecklie leered at her question, and Sara felt like slapping him. "No. No. Just heard from someone on day shift about your little adventures at Express this morning. I always wondered what it would take to make you - loose, Sidle. I guess I know now."

Off to Ecklie's right, Nick and Greg bristled at his suggestive tone and blatant insult to Sara. Catherine gripped Warrick's arm tightly when it looked like he might step forward and say something to him, but Sara merely cocked an eyebrow at Ecklie condescendingly. No one noticed the Grissom had stepped into the lounge.

"Too bad I'll never be loose for you. Ecklie," she barely managed to keep the contempt from her voice.

"Maybe not," he agreed. His tone was all good-humor laced with piss, and he smiled at her, forgetting about the rest of the CSIs in the room. "I suppose you can only service one supervisor at a time, and I'm not into sloppy seconds."

Sara's mouth dropped open, but before she could respond Grissom had lunged across the room, picking Ecklie up by his shirt collar and pinning him against the wall.

"Dumb, Ecklie. Sexual harassment is against office policy. You know that. And what you just said to Sara - well, that's beyond harassment. And she has witnesses."

Ecklie gaped at Grissom in shock, before trying to grab what little dignity he could. "If you don't put me down this instant, I'll have you charged with assault."

Griss just laughed. "I'm scared, Ecklie. Apologize to Sara."

Ecklie looked like he was going to refuse, but changed his mind when Grissom gave him a quick shake. "Fine. I was only joking. Sorry."

He quickly adjusted his lapels when Grissom set him down, refusing to look at anyone in the room. Nick, Warrick and Greg had arrayed themselves behind Grissom, arms crossed and grim expressions on their faces.

Sara looked like she wanted to deck Ecklie. Catherine, standing beside her, was debating letting her go and do it.

"Sara," Grissom's voice was surprisingly calm despite the tension in his face and shoulders, "do you want to file a complaint against Ecklie?"

"I think I do." Sara's tone was firm, and she smiled when Ecklie suddenly paled.

"Good. Catherine, do you want to take Sara to my office? You know where I keep the forms."

"Absolutely, Grissom. My pleasure."

"Shut the door on your way out."

* * * * *

"That's the first time I've ever enjoyed filling out paperwork," Sara's tone was purposely light when Grissom walked into his office sometime later. Catherine, Nick and Warrick had left on a case, and Greg was back in the lab. Sara smiled tenderly when she noticed that Grissom's knuckles were bruised.

"Well, well, well - a lover and a fighter."

Grissom smiled at her, that little half-smile of his she knew so well. "Ecklie's an asshole. Should I put ice on this?"

"Don't you think it was stupid, hitting him?"

Grissom just shrugged. "Self-defense, Sara. He swung first - Nick, Warrick and Greg all agree."

Sara grinned, "Uh-huh. Four men, suffering from white knight syndrome. My heroes." Her expression was wry as she stepped from behind his desk and stretched, before reaching out a hand to inspect his knuckles. "This doesn't look too bad."

"It's not - just a little stiff. But considering it was Ecklie I hit, I'm thinking antibiotics," Grissom joked. He lifted his free hand to grip Sara's, pulling her closer to him. "I'm sorry he said that to you."

"It's not your fault," Sara responded, "but if you think anyone is going to believe we're not involved now, you're delusional."

"Does it bother you? Everyone knowing you're my girl?"

"Am I?" Sara smiled at him. "I thought I was your Disco Queen."


Author's Note:

Not as fun as Disco Daze - sorta angsty for a sequel to something so frothy, but what can you do? Besides which, I always wanted to have Grissom hit Ecklie.