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"Hey, Grissom, could you sign--?" Sara stopped and stood in the doorway, very aware that she had just caught him in the midst of something embarrassing. He was just sitting there, very alert, one hand on the top of his recently shut laptop, the other quietly drumming his fingers on the desk.
"Yes?"
"Why did you just do that?"
His eyes searched the room for a creative answer. No luck. "Do what?"
"That. You shut your computer as soon as I walked in here."
"I did not."
She stepped forward into the room, her head tipped forward in argument mode. "Yes, you did, I saw you." She leaned forward onto the desk. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing." The nervous laugh didn't help his side of this at all, and neither did her proximity to him. The smell of her shampoo made it hard to concentrate.
She raised an accusatory eyebrow. "Were you looking at porn?"
His mouth fell open and he could feel the redness in his cheeks. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take his eyes off her. "What?"
"Were you reading porn? I could forgive you for *reading* it, or even writing it for that matter..." she raised herself back to standing and glanced at the paper in her hands. "Oh, yeah, I need you to sign this ASAP, so I can sign it. Muy importante."
He took another moment to marvel at the way she was able to change topics without getting the least bit flustered, and then mentally thanked her for calling off the inquisition.
"Yeah, lemme just get a pen," he trailed off, searching the desktop. Finally, he turned around in his chair with his back to her, looking in another drawer. "I know there's one in here somewhere..."
He spun back around and nearly squealed at the sight of Sara opening the lid. "HEY!"
Shooing her away, he put both hands on top of the computer and stared her down.
"My God, that must be really good smut for you to not want me to see it," she laughed.
"It's not smut," he snapped back, and suddenly found himself caught in her stare. Her eyes were gleaming with curiosity, and looking at her had somehow lowered his voice. "It's nothing that untoward."
She backed off, but not entirely, and chose to stand a few feet from him, boring holes in his eyes with her stare.
"It's not smut," he reassured her, but she just stood there, waiting. "I don't see what the big deal is, I just don't feel like sharing." She didn't move. "It's not like I would use CSI property for personal stuff. I wouldn't do that." Still there. "It's not
smut."
She didn't seem to care what he said, and continued to stare him down.
He tried to act like it didn't bother him, and even picked up a nearby case folder to distract himself.
Eyes on the folder, Gil. Concentrate. How hard can this be? She'll eventually leave. She has to. Although, Sara could stay up for weeks on end if she wanted to, don't doubt her ability to stand for several hours without moving. No, don't think about that. Just
get her to leave. You could always get up and push her out. No, you'd have to touch her, and that would only lead to--concentrate, Gil, concentrate. Don't look at her, and don't smile. Pretend you don't see her. It doesn't bother you. Repeat that to yourself. It
doesn't bother you that she's staring at your head, that she's standing three feet away, totally unbothered by this situation. You can't smell her, you don't notice her sleeveless shirt that accentuates her--concentrate, dammit. It doesn't bother you. She could stand there all day. Yep. You're just going to read this folder on ... Mr. ... Evanston. Yeah. That's what you'll do. Oh--killed by a pack of dogs. Lovely. Oh, great pictures, too. Detailed. Wouldn't want to miss out on seeing any of that. Yes, very interesting. My God, she's still there.
He finally peered up over his glasses. "Are you going to stand there all day?"
She crossed her arms. "Are you going to show me what you were doing?"
"No."
"Then yes."
"Sara--"
"Hey, it's simple. You show me what you were doing, and I'll leave. You want me to leave, right?"
When he didn't answer right away, she leaned forward onto the desk, raised an eyebrow, and lowered her voice. "What's so hard, Grissom... just open up and show me."
She was so close to his face he couldn't help but notice her eyes... and the moisture on her lips. The way her hair fell around her face, the way she smiled at him. And the totally blatant flirting that was being demonstrated by both of them.
As his eyes stayed locked with hers he chewed the pen in his mouth, musing over his choices. After a moment, he leaned in really close and smiled. Although the sudden intimacy of the situation took her by surprise, she refused to move.
"Okay," he whispered, inches away. "I'll show you."
The light reflecting off her smile could've rivaled the spotlight on the Luxor pyramid. Yes! She won!
Still keeping his eyes on her he opened the lid and woke the computer from its screensaver. He gave her one last smirk before looking to the screen, bringing up the program.
Now it was her turn to stare, since she was squatting at eye level next to his chair, less than a foot away. She took in a deep breath through her nose. Soap. Clean.
Okay, please resist the ridiculous urge to lay your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him and take in that clean, manly scent of-- Sara, cut it out. What are you doing? Now you're smelling him? Have you lost your mind? Yes, he's attractive. Yes, you'd really like your sheets to smell like him, but come on Sara, cut it out. Clear your head. No, don't do that by staring at the cute way his curls go from gray to brown to blonde, that won't help. Don't look at the way he sticks his tongue out of his mouth when he concentrates. And don't think about the way his eyes bug out when he gets excited, or the way he smiles when you theorize. You don't want to kiss him, you don't want to climb onto his lap, and you are certainly not thinking about wrapping your legs around him, preferably without clothes on. Cut it out, cut it out, cut it out. Be a pro here. You can do this, you're both pros. Pros do not think about bedsheets and their co-workers in the same sentence. They may examine them together, but that's it. And you're a pro, right? That's right, a pro. So please, please stop thinking about sucking on his earlobe. You're at work, for Christ's sake.
"Hello? Sara? Are you listening to me?"
She ripped her eyes from his ear. Shit, how long has he been rambling? What am I even doing here? Oh, yes, smut. The computer. She cleared her throat. "Yes, of course."
He narrowed his eyes at her answer, but then proceeded to bring up a window on the screen. "They call it a message board. You sign up, and then you can basically post your views and share them with the other members on the board." When he looked over at her she was smiling like he'd never seen before.
"'The Nest: Forensic Entomologists.' Aww, that's cute." She leaned forward to get a closer view, brushing her arm against his. He really, really tried to ignore the sensation. "So they rate your membership on the number of posts you've made?"
He nodded, his eyes lost somewhere in her hair. How he even managed to speak with her that close amazed him. "Yeah. You're either a pupae, larvae, cocoon, or a butterfly."
There was that smile of hers again. "Let me guess." She lowered her eyes, looking him over. "Cocoon."
When he was able to form a sentence, he shook his head. "Pupae; I just signed up a month ago. You'd be a butterfly in no time."
Her neck almost hurt from the speed with which she turned her head, but he had already looked away. Damn him and his random, cryptic compliments.
Her eyes scanned the posts, trying to find his name. "What's your handle?" She could tell from his look that he didn't follow. "Your nickname? The one you use to post?"
"Oh! Oh, uh...it's nothing. Just something stupid."
"Grissom..." she trailed off, stealing another look into those eyes of his.
He hated when she did that. It was like truth serum. Even the thought of saying it sounded stupid before it even left his lips. "I'm Spiderman."
"Spiderman??" She guffawed, but then stifled her laugh when she saw how embarrassed he was. "I'm sorry, it's just so you."
"Most of the other members are beetle people. There are a lot of John's and Paul's. Not too many Ringo's."
"I should have known this was you... all your posts are spell-checked and proofread."
"Doesn't everybody do that?"
Sara briefly glanced over at him, and then made a face at once of the posts. "Hissingroach74 says, 'The meat thing worked, Spiderman. The blowfly specimens were totally awesome. I'm glad you told me not to toss that old hamburger.' Oh, that's just gross." Then her eyes got wider as she kept reading. "Dung beetle? Someone's name is Dung Beetle?"
"Dung beetles are an integral aspect of the ecosystem, Sara, they provide a unique service to nature and its-"
"Dung Beetle, Grissom." He just looked at her, not quite sure what the problem was. "Well, at least there's no one named 'Maggot.'"
"That's the moderator," he explained, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She shook her head in response.
Perusing the board for a few moments longer, she finally rose to her feet. "Well, Grissom, thank you for sharing that with me."
Removing his pen from his mouth, he tipped an imaginary hat to her. "My pleasure... just as long as it doesn't go beyond that door."
"Oh, never..." she smirked, and then remembered the reason she'd come in. "Oh. Don't forget to sign this," she held out the paper. "It almost slipped my mind, what with reading your Spiderman posts and all."
He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Gimme that," he muttered, grabbing the paper from her. He took the pen from his mouth and signed before returning the pen to his teeth.
She took the paper, and then leaned way over on the desk, right up in his face. That smile of hers could brighten the darkest room on the planet. Suddenly she reached forward with one hand, and took the pen from his mouth. Breaking eye contact for a brief moment, she signed the paper, and then twiddled the pen in her fingers.
Finally, she held it in front of his lips, waiting. He couldn't believe he was participating in this whole event, but he opened his mouth, just slightly, and she slid the pen in between his teeth.
His face felt so hot he thought it was going to burst, and was glad in a way when she finally stood back up and started toward the door.
WHEEEEEEW. That's right, take a big exhale there, buddy, and then think about a cold shower. But first--a post. Just as he started to type, Sara turned back around.
"Thanks," she grinned, holding the paper.
He smiled. "Sure."
As she was about to enter the hallway she leaned back into the room. "Catch you later ... Spiderman."
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