Signs Of Life

Disclaimer: Not mine. And ma-hoosive thanks to jenbachand for the beta, you're a doll. xx

Prompt: Include a cauldron and a reference to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein


It had come out of left field, but the more Sara thought about it, the more sense it made.
Grissom had made a career, a successful career, out of a fascination most boys left behind when they hit puberty. He held a reverence bordering on the disturbing for an old time television star, sorry, King of the Cowboys, and he drove a car that, although insanely cool, belonged in its original box on a display shelf somewhere.

Following that evidence; figuring out that he liked to go all out on the holidays hadn’t been a great leap. His gentle approach a few nights before hadn’t sent off alarm bells, only a wave of irritated confusion as she thought about her wardrobe and tried to figure out a good homemade costume.

Sara’s first real look at Grissom’s Halloween handiwork came as she parked up on his drive. Given his excitement about the holiday she had expected something, just not that it would be something else.
Carved pumpkins lined his pathway and flickered silhouettes of witches, ghosts and monster faces against the dark. On his fake grass lawn a squat black cauldron doctored with dry ice pumped forth an eerie mist and the front of his house was strung with tiny pumpkin shaped festive lights.

Oh yeah. Very something else indeed…

The effect was completed by Grissom opening the door to her in mad scientist garb, his hair floured white, safety goggles on his head, wearing a lab coat filled with all kids of scientific ephemera over some extremely mismatched clothes and proffering a fun sized snickers. And for more than a moment Sara was sure he was disappointed that she wasn’t a trick or treater.

“Hi, I’m here about the secret laboratory. I saw your ad in Mad Science Monthly.”

He passed her the candy bar as though conferring a special treat and let her into the house.

“Ahh, of course, and you must let me give you the tour...”


“The Bride of Frankenstein, a classic.” Grissom gave her an appraising look, a lopsided smirk and a kiss on the corner of her mouth before moving behind her to take her coat. Shrugging out of it she made her way in; first checking out the bucket of candy he had for trick or treaters before moving onto her routine inspection of the insects and more traditional artwork he had framed in the hall. As she turned around he gave a low growl that made her blush.

“I amend my previous statement; the Porno Bride of Frankenstein. Sara, you can’t open the door to kids wearing that.”

While her hair and make-up were the traditional iconic look – easily achieved with a bit of coloured hairspray, some eyeliner and a steady hand, her outfit was somewhat more makeshift. Unwilling to destroy the one white table cloth she did own and lacking the skills to do so anyway she had fallen back on her small collection of good lingerie and come up with a white silk sheath that came to her knee and was cut slightly lower than was polite.

She gave him a look that was one part withering and one part amused. “If you’ll recall I didn’t agree to door duty. I’m here for the moral support and candy corn, ok.”

Balancing his arguments he followed as Sara entered his living room and lay out on his couch, pulling the remote out of the back of it to channel surf.

The silk of her slip outlined the slow curves of her backside in a very distracting way and as she shifted her hips he decided that yes, a show for moral support was definitely very ok with him.

A few hours, and most of the candy later, the small but steady trickle of sugar hungry kids to his door had faded away to virtually nothing and Grissom had joined Sara on the couch, stretched out beside her, and trying to keep his attention on the classic monster movie marathon she had settled on. He was finding it a challenge as her silk clad ass rubbed him very nicely every time she moved. Which she did. A lot.

In the flickering light of the television screen Sara caught his eye before resuming her gentle sporadic hip rolls and Grissom smiled before reaching down to fix the hem of her slip. It was far too long.

“So is that a thermometer in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Sara rolled her ass back against his lap in a lazy motion and Grissom gave a guilty smile as he moved away from her and pulled a forgotten snickers bar from the pocket of his lab coat before rocking back into her.

“I assure you ma’am that I now have nothing in my pocket, especially any instrument I could use to take your temperature.” He slid his hand further up beneath the hem of her slip and stroked gently along her inner thigh. “Though, if I had to guess, you feel pretty hot from here.”

Giving a coy little squeak Sara moved his hand from its resting place and moved around to face him.

“Tormenter. And anyway, I thought you were going to show me your secret laboratory Dr Grissom.”

With a long suffering sigh he pushed himself up to stand in front of Sara and held a hand out for her. “Very well, if a secret laboratory tour is what the lady wants, then a secret laboratory tour is what the lady shall have.”

While it was true that Sara had spent a good deal of time in Grissom’s home, she had by no means been given a guided tour and her smile turned to confusion as he lead her past his bedroom to another door, farther down the same hall which he then opened with a flourish.

“Voila. One mad scientist’s secret laboratory.”

It was impressive. Larger than his bedroom it held a dizzying array of tools and specimens for preservation, endless and immaculately ordered experiments in progress, and countless other items that Sara wasn’t about to try to identify.
And in the middle of it all stood a long table, something half-way between a work bench and a kitchen table that Grissom had taken advantage of her investigation of the room to clear off.
He patted the surface invitingly.

“C’mon, jump up here and I’ll give you a tune up.” He was wearing his mad scientist smirk and Sara happily acquiesced.

Standing in front of her he avoided her attempted kiss, placing a cool finger over her lips as he moved the straps of her slip down and lowered the front without leaving her completely bare and Sara looked up in confusion as Gil placed his fingers over a spot on her chest.

“Now, deep breath in...”

Sara raised an eyebrow in a question and in reply he returned her look. She took a deep breath. And several more as he found alternate spots to feel before shining a small penlight in her eyes. “We have to check your corneas Sara. If they fix, that’s not good.”

In full doctor mode he moved down her body, gently testing and poking, until he reached her feet; slipping her shoes off he cupped her heels, raising them until she lay back, allowing him let him take them to face level, running a finger over her toes and blowing on them, smirking as Sara twitched beneath his ministrations.

“Ten toes, all responsive and non-gangrenous.” He blew lightly over them one last time and let go, moving up between her legs even as he continued seriously. “That’s a big concern in the reanimated community Sara. Circulatory problems can wreak all kinds of havoc on the extremities…”
Sara clasped her legs behind his waist and pulled him in close as she sat up.

“Havoc, extremities, got it. You going to take my temperature now?”

He gave her a thoughtful look.

“Absolutely. Pays to be thorough with these type of things.” He held two fingers up to her lips.
“You want to warm my thermometer first?”
Sara slipped his fingers into his mouth and suckled gently on them, running her tongue over and around and feeling the trickle of anticipation that had been steadily building all night cross over into a full blown need as his other hand began a gently exploration of the lace edge of her lingerie, stroking and teasing before finally moving it down and exposing her bust to the cool air, his fingers coming up to tease her nipples into aching peaks.

“Nothing wrong with your blood pressure,” he whispered into her ear and removed his fingers from her mouth even as she gave them a last lap before resuming their earlier exploration of her thighs; brushing lightly up as the saliva left cold little trails against her skin.

He moved in finally to kiss her, taking possession of her mouth with soft persuasive lips and little nips of his sharp teeth. It was so good and finally, that she almost missed the soft stroke of his finger as it began to stroke her clitoris.

Almost.

Tiny lightening strikes gathered at the apex of her thighs in response to his gentle ministrations. His touch was feather light and taunting, calling her to rock forwards in an attempt to increase the pressure but he wouldn’t let her get that close, moving away and teasing the dewy cleft between her legs, giving her everything but what she wanted.

In opposition to the teasing touch of hand, his kisses pressed harder as the tension increased, lips and tongues clashed and Sara used her own hands to hold the back of his head, running her fingers through the short soft hair at the back of his neck and over the strong muscle there, moving him to where she wanted him.

Sitting almost naked on his table, a storm gathering in her belly, slip pooling in her lap as her nipples puckered so tight they almost stung in the cool air of the room, Sara was unable to make herself care about anything other than the next sensation. Gil had begun working his way wetly down her neck and over her collar bone until finally, he arrived at her breasts, stroking and kissing over their gently sloped surface.
The jolts firing in her nervous system were becoming greater and greater until his lips reached her nipple and as he nipped at it with his teeth and lips he plunged two fingers into her wetness, beckoning forward, and with his thumb stroked over her already humming clitoris. Sara came. Hard.

The enormity of it shocked her, rolled through her like thunder and she fell forward into him, biting into the broad muscle of his shoulder and squeezing him almost painfully with her legs in an attempt to work through the electric snap that filled her for long minutes.

Only when her grip loosened did Gil move her to lie back, still gasping and with no strength left, she let him, enjoying the feel of his hands as he smoothed over her body in long strokes.
Using her legs she lazily wrapped them around his back and urged him forwards onto the table with her, resting between them he wrapped one arm around her and then moved up to kiss her, slow and soft.

Her breath was still coming in the long slow rasps of recovery as she caught his eye.

“So, what’s the diagnosis Doc?”

He laughed and took her hand, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

“Subject responds strongly to stimulus. It’s definitely alive.”