Author’s Note:

The characters of CSI were created by A. Zuiker, and are the property of CBS and its affiliates.  All other characters depicted in this story are fictional; they are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author.  Although the locales in this story may be real, all events, incidents and characters are pure invention.  
© April 2005. LSI.

This story is in response to a YTDaW challenge to write about Grissom's and Sara's first kiss.  There were few rules, e.g., no deadline, no maximum word count, only that the kiss couldn't happen during a date, or at the lab, or in their car, or at home.  Weird place only.  I don't know how weird this place is, but the circumstances are somewhat unusual.    

Our First Kiss

It wasn’t everything I dreamed it would be.  But it was damn close.  His body was pressing into mine, trapping me between the rough stucco of the building and his softer, warmer torso.  His lips were firm and moist; our mouths were slightly parted in the manner they collided to begin with, and I resisted the temptation to slip my tongue into his. 

I could feel him trembling and I wondered if he was cold with only the thin cotton of his shirt protecting him from the frigid night air.  I wasn’t cold.  I was rather warm in fact insulated by his body and the double layer of jacket—his and mine.  Still, I was shivering.  From fear, or shock, or arousal, I couldn’t tell, but I imagined it was a combination of all three.

The voices were getting louder.  I knew the moment the men entered the dark alley.  I listened to their pitch, and timbre, and inflection, trying to figure out how many of them there were.  Three I thought, maybe four, and it was only a matter of time before they noticed us and decided our fates.  I tightened my arms around Grissom’s neck and pressed my body closer to his until I felt his thighs brush against mine.  He inhaled my breath, sharply, but his arms continued to hold me in a protective grip rather than a lover’s embrace.

And there, as he would say, was the rub.

Because it wasn’t want or need or love that drove his lips to mine.  It was survival.

The Hoods had taken over four city blocks in this run-down, seedier part of town.  Until one of theirs was shot and killed by a member of LVPD recently, their crimes were classified as misdemeanors; they were pranksters out to annoy rather than destroy.  But now they were out for blood…police blood, and they’d already taken down two officers.  One was dead, the other in critical condition at Desert Palm.

We could be next.

It was strange the things that went through your mind when you were within seconds of your possible demise.  I briefly wondered if I’d make a nice looking corpse.  I remembered my double, Debbie Marlin, and I imagined her face with the Hoods’ monogram etched into her forehead…their signature. 

I shuddered.  Chasing those dreadful thoughts from my mind, I forced myself to stay alert despite the sensations Grissom was creating with his mouth.  Under the cover of darkness and his wide body, I slowly slipped my right arm down over his chest to my waist.  His lips suddenly stiffened, as if issuing a warning, but then he relaxed again when he realized my intention.  I pushed my jacket aside to access the holster on my belt, then unclipped it and palmed my revolver.  Grissom as usual wasn’t carrying.  It would have been a good day for him to break that negligent habit; Brass had chewed him out about it more than once.  I’d have to add my voice to Brass’s if we got out of this alive.  And it was a big ‘if’.  I doubted the lone gun between us would be of any help against the four Hoods if they didn’t buy our little charade.

We were about to find out.

“Hey man, check this out,” I heard the one with the squeaky voice that told me he wasn’t yet out of puberty say.     

“Whatta we got here?” said another, deeper voice.

I heard the scuffles of their boots on the hard ground.  Their gait had slowed and I could feel them staring at us.  Every muscle in my body went rigid.  It was paralyzing and I wondered if I’d have the dexterity to do what I knew I must if they decided to confront us.    

I heard them snicker, and it was becoming more difficult to pretend they weren’t there.  Concentrate on the kiss…make it look real.  Grissom must have been thinking along the same lines, for suddenly, he angled his head as if deepening the kiss, and slipped his hands inside my jacket.  Despite the danger around us, my breath caught, but his left hand was quick as it covered mine over my gun.  He picked up my hand and gave it a squeeze before moving it aside.  He then removed my gun from its holster and slipped it behind my back. 

I was wishing for many things suddenly, that he was ambidextrous for one, or that we’d waited for Brass and the cavalry before going to work.  But in our haste to find that one piece of missing evidence that could place one of the Hoods at the scene of the second shooting, not to mention the load of work waiting for us at the lab, we became impatient.  Had Grissom not spotted the hooded young men under the light across the street at the end of the alley, we’d probably be dead by now.  Thinking quickly, he’d removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, then pushed me against the building to hide the CSI acronym emblazoned in big light-reflecting letters on the back.

And then he whispered, “Go along with this,” and his command barely registered before his lips crashed down onto mine.    

But his ruse seemed to be working.  I opened my eyes to narrow slits and glanced at the four teenagers approaching us.  They were all wearing loose-fitting black pants with the crotch seam down somewhere around their knees, and their trademark black hooded sweatshirts.  I prayed they wouldn’t notice Grissom’s field kit, which he’d tucked behind the protruding wall of the chimney.  Or if they did, that they’d think it was a briefcase or a flight case. 

But they sounded far too amused by our display to pay much attention to anything else.  As they walked by us, one of them said, “Yo, old man, bagged you some young ‘ho?”

“Leave ‘em be,” said another, “you’ just jealous ‘cause Jeanine dumped you.”

“Watch your tongue, Cruz, or I’ll cut ya with my blade like I did them dogs.”

“Hey!  Chill man, I was just teasin’.”

“Yeah, Loco.  Jeanine ain’t good ‘nuff for you.  Gotta find you a better bitch.”

They all laughed as they walked past, and I was so relieved they hadn’t stopped to harass us that I couldn’t muster proper indignation for poor Jeanine. 

When their voices became mere echoes through the darkness, Grissom broke the kiss and moved his lips close to my ear.  “Are they gone?”

I opened my eyes and looked over his shoulder in time to see the last one disappearing around the corner onto the street at the other end of the alley.  “Yes,” I whispered, and I wanted to take it back when he immediately relaxed his hold on me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drawing back to look at my face, but I couldn’t hold his gaze.

Sorry for what?  I wanted to ask.  For their derogatory remarks? For putting us in this situation?  Or for kissing me?   

An ache settled in my chest.  Now that the crisis was over, all I could think about was the lingering taste of his mouth, the warmth of his kiss and the caress of his body against mine.  Relief that I wouldn’t end up on Doc’s table tonight warred with my disappointment that this moment between us had come to an end.  Reluctantly, I started letting go of him, but when he didn’t move, his arms still holding me loosely, I lifted my eyes to his. 

I was stunned by what I saw there.  I remembered that look, I’d seen it often enough to have it burned to memory, except that I always attributed it to confusion.  But that wasn’t it at all.  He looked disoriented, as if he’d just come up to a four-way intersection only to realize he couldn’t remember what town he was in. 

I held his look, our eyes locked into each other, the air around us filled with our rapid breaths and crackling tension and then my heart tumbled as he drew me to him with as much urgency as before.  He kissed me.  A deep kiss this time, filled with passion, and want, and desire, and repressed longing…And I clung to him, enjoying the brush of his whiskers against my skin and the texture of his mouth as it consumed mine. 

And I never wanted to let him go. 

But he suddenly jerked away and my eyes flew open only to realize we were no longer alone.  Brass had finally arrived in a flurry of lights and screeching tires with a black and white in tow.  As he entered the alley on foot, I glanced at Grissom, whose back was now turned to me.  His head was tilted back a little and I could tell in the rise of his shoulders that he was taking deep breaths.  I touched his arm and he swiveled around, his eyes not quite meeting mine as I returned his jacket and he, in turn, my gun.

“You couldn’t wait,” Brass chastised when he reached us.

Grissom was bent over his field kit, his light, I knew, sweeping aimlessly inside.  “You’re late,” he replied roughly not looking at him.

Brass grunted, but offered neither explanation nor apology.  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Grissom threw me a quick, unreadable look, then stood and faced Brass.  “We did better than that.”  Pointing toward the other end of the alley, he said, “Four Hoods just headed down that street.  One answers to Cruz, another to Loco.  The one they call Loco has a knife that may have been used on Officers Grant and McNally.”

Brass nodded and immediately called in the information.  As he drew his gun, he gave us a piercing look.  “You two are taking unnecessary risks, you know.”

Grissom grinned for the first time that evening, “There’s no reward without risk,” he said.  "Go get ‘em, Jim.”

The two junior officers had already joined him, and the three of them took off at a half jog down the alley.  With the briefest of shy glances, Grissom and I went back to work. 

So what if our first kiss wasn’t everything I dreamed it would be when our second was…well, let's just say there was an entirely different story there.