DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks, as always, to the wonderful Debbie for taking time to beta.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

A Bug's Life
By Ann


Sara reached for another clothespin and mindlessly clipped the edge of a t-shirt onto the makeshift clothesline that stretched from a nearby tree to a corner 2x4 that acted as one of the braces for her small hut. Life was simple in the middle of nowhere – no deadlines or commitments, no time clock to remind her that she'd amassed too much overtime, no traffic, no waiting around for DNA samples or fingerprint cards to reveal what she already knew, and no loss for love. That was the best part. Her thoughts turned to the person who'd captured her heart, and a smile creased her face. She'd never been happier.

Behind her, a hand eased a branch to the side to allow a better view of the shadowy figure. The watcher hesitated momentarily and drank in the domestic scene, grinning slightly when he instantly recognized the woman he'd come to love. Resuming his steps, his boot caught the middle of a fallen branch and broke it in half. The resulting snap alerted Sara that an intruder was in her midst.


A female voice spoke his name, but Sara's lips hadn't moved. Grissom frowned and wondered if his love had taken up ventriloquism on her down time. The voice spoke again.

"What are you doing here?"

This time, Grissom was able to pinpoint the location of the speaker and turned toward the hut, his backpack sliding from his shoulder and landing at his feet with a thud. He didn't notice though. He was too intent on staring at the half-dressed woman who stood in the doorway to Sara's hut.


"Grissom," said Sofia, again, only this time with a huge grin on her face. Maybe this time the brilliantly dense entomologist would put two and two together.

"What are you doing here?"

Maybe not, thought Sofia as she listened to Grissom voice her earlier question. Apparently the fact that she'd traveled across the globe to be with Sara, had been staying with the woman in the same bed, and was currently dressed in a sports bra and loose-fitting sarong had gone completely over the man's head.

"Grissom, what are you doing here?"

Now it was Sara who spoke the question of the minute as she'd finally snapped out of her shock at seeing Grissom in her own back jungle. She crossed the short distance to stand beside the one she loved – Sofia.

"But… I…" Grissom looked from one woman to the other, finally noting Sofia's hand wrapped possessively around Sara's hip. He watched as the fine-boned, strong hand slid to rest comfortably on a rounded ass. "You're with Sofia?" The proverbial clue hit him on the head and wilted the edges of his Safari hat.

Hours later, Sofia slid onto her back, her hand still lying across the slick skin of Sara's inner thigh. A cocky grin formed on her face, knowing that Grissom had probably heard Sara scream out her name – time and time again. The former CSI supervisor had wandered off with his tail between his legs, mumbling that he'd seen some kind of rare bug a few hundred yards back on the trail.

"Mmmm," muttered Sara, turning on her side and snuggling close to her lover. "Where'd that come from?" Her eyes still closed, she smiled. Sofia had been relentless, and Sara had enjoyed every second of it.

Sofia tugged Sara closer and eased her hand higher.

"Let's just say the jungle makes me territorial."

A half-mile away, Grissom knelt down next to a rotten stump and reached blindly into his backpack, retrieving a small glass vial. With utmost care, he coaxed the rare bug into the container and screwed on the lid. He couldn't wait to explore more of the region.

Shouldering his backpack, he pushed to his feet and started down the trail away from Sara and Sofia. A loud scream had him looking back over his shoulder, extremely grateful that he'd gotten out of there when he had. From the sounds that had been echoing throughout the jungle, he surmised that Sara must've contracted some kind of horrible virus.

With a relieved sigh, he picked up his pace, keeping his eyes peeled on the foliage for any sign of insects, Sara and Sofia already forgotten. His bugs were all that mattered.

The End

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