Memorable

TITLE: Memorable

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of ?

FANDOM: CSI

SHIP: Greg / Sara

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Six or Seven I'm not sure.

UNIVERSE: As per cannon, but does skirt some issues.

SYNOPSIS: After their Hazmat scare and subsequent emergency protocol shower neither Greg or Sara can get what they've seen off their minds and eventually decide to do something about it.

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to their creator. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - Deton8@mweb.co.za

Chapter 1

Greg passed Sara in the hall and gallantly tells her he didn't look while they were in the emergency show, yet all he sees is her sleek, naked soap-sudded body and the rose tattoo on her hip. He hopes she didn't see him looking or that he'd turned in time so that she hadn't seen his reaction. She answers back playfully that she did peek and continues on her way but she can still see his naked, hard-muscles body, slick with water and soap and his multitude of tattoos. She knows he saw her, she had seen his reaction and that was part of the problem

It happens for the rest of their shift and the next and the next and they had to battle to keep their interactions casual and working a scene together was becoming increasingly difficult with the distraction.

Greg is in the mens' showers at the lab at the end of his shift, luxuriating in the hot spray as it eases the tension in his shoulders. He hears someone else enter and assumes it's one of the other guys and gives a generic greeting without turning around. The person doesn't greet back, so he assumes it's someone he doesn't know. He doesn't really care because the water feels too good against his loosening muscles. He starts when a hand slides slowly up his shoulder blade and onto his shoulder and turns quickly, only to freeze. It's Sara, naked, her skin dimpled with droplets of water from the shower spray. His dick literally springs to attention and he can't help but let his eyes scan her lithe frame, gently flared hips, taut stomach and ample, but perfectly proportioned breasts topped with dusky, gumdrop nipples.

She steps forward, the water now showering them both, smiling as his erection nestles against the downy curls of her pubic hair and against her toned belly. Her breasts flatten against his chest, her nipples, hard, hot points surrounded by their firm, warm flesh. He opens his mouth to say something, his not quite sure what, but she silences him with a finger pressed firmly to his lips. Her hair is dark with water framing her face with curled, dripping tendrils, her eyes hold his, steady and unblinking. When she removes her finger her lips are only an inch away from his. She continues forward, pressing harder against his body and when they lips meet it's like a white flash in his head.

Greg sat up in bed panting. His dick is tenting his shorts in a near-painfully, throbbing erection and he finds it hard to catch his breath for a moment. He feels sweat trickle down his chest. "Fucking Hell. This is getting out of hand. I need to take a cold shower." He thinks, but even the thought of a shower, cold or otherwise brings an image of Sara to mind. He shakes his head. He has a feeling it's going to be a long night. He tries to go back to sleep, but in the end he has to jack-off to get some relief from his persistent boner before he can get any rest.

Sara closed her apartment door and dropped her bag. She rolls her shoulders, trying to ease the tension of a long shift. She unfastens her shoes and then kicks them off before stripping on the way to her bathroom. She walks straight into the shower craving its relaxing heat and pressure of the spray. She turns it on hot and lets the water sluice over her head before leaning forward and resting her forehead against the cool tiles and letting the hot water pelt massagingly against her neck, shoulders and back.

She'd just about decided it was time to get some soap and get her shower done with before the water starts running cold when she hears the shower door open. She whirls around, her fist rising to protect herself, but they drop to her side when she freezes as Greg walks into her shower as naked as she had seen him a couple of days before, in all his glory. She can feel her lips moving as she tries to say something as he covers the short distance between her and the shower door. She unconsciously backs up the half a step that puts her back firmly against the damp, cool tiles and then his hard muscular body is pressing against hers.

She can feel him hard and pulsing against her belly. His solid chest flattens her breasts and it's as if her nipples rebel as they are pressed back and harden, pushing back into his chest. He slides up her body a little before he stops moving and the feeling is electric as the sensation sparks along her skin. She's still trying to talk, to say something, she doesn't quite know what, but she doesn't get a chance as his lips meet hers.

Her eyes flutter closed and immediately snap back open as she sits up gasping. She can feel sweat trickle down her chest. The vest she's wearing is scratchy against her breasts and sensitive and softening nipples. She starts to lift her hand to wipe her brow and finds it still down the front of her panties. She flops back onto her pillow, freeing her hand from her panties and throwing her arm across her eyes. "You have to be fucking kidding me." She whispers into the dark. She tosses and turns for an hour before with a frustrated grunt she grabs a pillow and shoves it between her legs and curls herself around it to have something pressed against her before she can get some sleep.

It's bad and unbearably uncomfortable the entire next shift she's finally had enough. She waits for Greg in the locker room after their shift ends. "Hey Sara." He greeted her cordially, but as for the last few days, does not meet her eyes. "Hey Greg. Wanna go get a drink maybe something to eat?" she asks, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "Errr. I..." he starts to make an excuse, but she stops him by saying: "Just say yes, Greg. We need to talk, Okay?"

This time he does look her in the eye and then nods. She gives him a moment to pack his bag and then they leave. They take her SUV and twenty minutes later they were at a bar and grill a little way off the strip, ensconced in a back booth, nervously ordering their first drinks and hiding behind menus. Their meal is a polite, affair filled with pleasantries and awkward silences despite Sara's admission that they needed to talk. They both go through three beers before they're done eating and skip dessert for something stronger in the form of whiskey and sodas.

Sara looks at him over the rim of her glass, turning it slightly making the ice tnkle softly against the glass. "So... You liked what you saw?" she asks deciding to take the direct approach. She watches him take a large swallow from his drink before nodding. "Yes. I never pictured you having a tattoo, but that rose on your hip suites you perfectly and your body... errrrr...well, you know." He answers, but stops himself smiling sheepishly and raises his shoulders and bobs his head in apology. It's such a typically Greg gesture she smiles.

"You pictured me?" she asks taking a sip from her drink. "Well... Yeah. You're hot. I'm a guy and I have eyes and an imagination." He replies and more of the awkwardness of their situation fades. "Since when?" she asks curiously. "Are you kidding?" he returns her question incredulously. "Assume I'm not." She counters. "Since I started at the lab. You never noticed me and most of the guys checking you out?" he asks signaling for the waitress for another round.

She shrugs. "The guys actually thought you were like a lesbian or something. I just thought you were an ice queen, but that was before I got to know you and realized you're just an intensely private person. Now, of course, I know you were just totally oblivious to all of us." He said chuckling. "I guess so. I have always been either wrapped up in my work or my own issues." She agreed.

They thank the waitress for the drinks, feeling more at ease with each other. "I take it, you did more than peek?" he asks circumspectly from behind his glass. "You take it correctly, CSI Sanders. I knew you had tattoos, I just didn't know they were that extensive or elaborate. And, you shave... How often do you workout?" she asks suddenly changing tack. She raises her glass in acknowledgement that she had been about to shy into awkward territory.

"Twice a week and I shave everywhere." He adds answering her unfinished question. "So... You also liked what you saw?" he asks with a dramatically feigned show of offhandedness. "Smooth." She teases him and he shrugs, flashing her his thousand-watt smile. "Yes, Greg, I liked what I saw too. I don't mean to hurt your feeling, but I hadn't pictured you, as it were so having you running around naked in my head for the last coupe of days has been... an experience." She admits.

With, their admissions of truth out of the way they just start talking about everything and anything, the easy-going nature of their friendship restored and even deepened as they find out more about each other. They still skirt the main issue, but she does ask him about a specific tattoo and he her about a scar on her thigh. They're drinking and neither of them notices the time or the amount of alcohol they are consuming until the waitress informs them that it is last call. Greg squints at his watch. "Damn. It's three o'clock. Where'd the time go?" he asks and she shakes her near-empty whiskey glass at him making the ice in it sing out and they both chuckle.

"It's a good thing neither of us are on duty later." Sara says as their final drinks arrive. "Amen to that." Greg agrees. "So, to recap. We've seen each other naked, liked what we saw and have been having a hard time getting those images out of our minds and now that we've admitted this to each other what are we going to do about it?" Sara summed up their situation as succinctly as she can.

Greg shook his head from side to side slowly. "Depends. How drunk are you?" he asked. She frowned at him. "Sober enough to know that I am drunk enough to be calling us cabs instead of driving." She answered stirring her drink with her finger and sucking it dry. "Fair enough. So, what if it was just one cab?" he asks. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting." She asks cradling her drink. "If you're thinking that we finish our drinks, pay, take a cab to your place or mine, get naked and do what we need to do to get this out of our systems, then... yes. Unless, of course, you have another solution?" He confirmed putting down his glass and sitting back.

"A one time deal. We..." she makes a rolling hand gesture, "and then it's done." She mused also sitting back and he nodded. They sat for a few minutes, contemplating Greg's proposal while sipping their drinks. " No one and I mean no one but us can know." She stated and again he nodded and then verbally agreed. "Sara, we don't have to do this. We've talked about it. It's out in the open. We'll get over it. It was a dumb idea." He argued suddenly. "Why?" she asks leaning forward.

After a moment he leans forward too. "Stuff like this can well ruin a friendship and I kinda like having you as a friend." He told her in a hushed confidential tone and she smiles. "Good, as long as it wasn't because you could never tell anyone." She replies playfully and he laughs. "Your place or mine?" she asks. "We're seriously going to do this?" he counters and she slowly and solemnly nods once.

He can knows she's nervous as he can see the tips of her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "Your place?" he half-states, half-asks and again she nods. "You're sure?" he asks and gets a third nod, followed by Sara throwing her head back and draining her glass.

"You call the cab. I'll pay the tab." She tells him firmly, her low slightly-gravelly voice making the rhyme seem slightly sultry as she slides out of the booth and this time it's Greg's turn to nod. She does what she says she'd going to do and he does what he is told, but both of them have one thought running through their minds: Oh My God... We're going to have sex."

TO BE CONTINUED