The Christmas Perspective
Title: The Christmas Perspective
Author: Rianne
Rating: T
Paring: GSR.
Summary: A little flurry of Christmas Spirit.
Disclaimer: Not borrowed them for a while, thought I would dig them out of the snow, dust them off and give them a little Christmas cheer, heaps of fluff and a touch of Bon Jovi!
The Christmas Perspective
By Rianne
December 2010.
It was the only Christmas perspective.
Lying on ones back, underneath the glimmering coloured lights of the Christmas tree.
It made her quietly happy, as she lay there gazing up through the lush green branches of the beautiful real blue spruce tree, from this vantage point the world seem like a good place, even if just for a while.
This year, after so many spent in solitary longing, or working harder than the other 364 days, she wasn't alone.
This year she was thousands of miles away from work and stress and loneliness.
High in a beautiful and cosy Parisian apartment.
A warming fire roaring by her toasty sock clad feet, as beyond the huge picture window flakes of white tumbled, shimmering from the heavy sky. Catching in the gleaming street lights, fluttering to the ground, coating everything in its path with a glittering fairytale quiet.
'Gil?" she called out coaxingly.
The rustling in the other room halted for a second.
He had told her to stay put and keep out of the bedroom.
The suspense was killing her.
The dog beside her opened one eye, disturbed by her voice.
He had been quite contented, sprawled by the fire after his most recent brush with the freezing cold, white stuff outside. Had been lazily watching her as she fidgeted, distractedly attempting to read the book she had bought out of delay desperation at the airport, yet it wasn't holding her attention. It instead kept being drawn back to the funny smelling item he usually associated with park and walk which now sat in one corner of the room.
It had been dragged inside a couple of days ago, and he had been repeatedly warned after his first attempt that it was not there for his ease of convenience instead of his going outside and after the harsh glare of warning he had been given he daren't try and pee on it again, he'd much rather go outside into the cold!
He had been punished since, by being made to wear a new collar with a stupid jingly bell, which she had thought adorable when she had returned and he had tried to scratch off with his paw to no avail.
Not that he wasn't happy to have her back. The air changed when she came back. It was sweeter, and better, and there were more smuggled treats.
But to add to the curiousness of having her back, just as he was finally settling into sleep she had moved, and one eye had bemusedly tracked her as she got down on her hands and knees to slide across the floor and crawl under the funny smelling tree in the corner and stretch herself out on the rug.
He ruffed making the tinsel strands billow and settled again leaving her to her bizarre humanness.
In the other room the rustling wrapping sound had resumed.
Presents!
Her mouth twitched as she thought about all the neatly wrapped surprises carefully stored in her carry on case. Gifts from people at the Lab, brushed wrapper with more personal gifts she herself had searched for and deliberated over. She had felt like Mrs. Claus passing though the airport with her suitcase filled with magical secrets.
Trading one City of Lights, for another even more renowned City of Lights and her own private light show right here, enchanting her from above.
Breathing deep the scent of fresh pine was sharp and Christmassy and nothing like the flimsy cardboard imitation scent left still swinging from her car rear view mirror way back in Vegas.
No, there was nothing like a real Christmas tree, and nothing could compare to stretching out beneath it and gazing up through the decorated branches whether you were four and like herself were edging perilously closer to the big 4 and 0.
Reaching up she caressed a fingertip to a beautiful glitter coated bauble, dancing just above her cheek, the firelight caught differently on each of its multitude of speckles, making the opalescent sphere twinkle.
She sighed contentedly, there was only one thing missing.
"Gil?" she tried to tempt again.
A faint growl of frustration drifted from beyond the closed door and made her suck in her grin.
Wrapping was hard for a man as particular about neatness and presentation as her husband. Whilst she on the other hand camouflaged gifts the quickest way she could, leaving unidentifiable objects wrapped tightly in tape and disguised with shop bought bows. To her the gift inside was more important than the decoration, paper was only torn and shredded, but to him Christmas wasn't the same without this strange ritual torturing of his patience.
But she hadn't travelled all this way to spend Christmas Eve with the dog!
"Gilbert!" The exasperation was mild, the words dipped more in humour than impatience.
The door opened a crack and she could see him peering though into the darkened room, trying to make sense of the book discarded on the table, and the fact that he couldn't see her in her current recline.
"Sara?" He queried, his voice light, "Où êtes-vous?"
She smirked, wondering if he knew that he was still speaking in French, he seemed to meander in between languages at the drop of a hat these days.
Her toes curled in her warm socks, as she tried not to laugh, trying to keep still in her hiding place beneath the tree.
But it only took a few more seconds for him to search her out.
He crossed the room to her, stopping at her toes, reaching out one of this own to nudge against her ankle.
"Sara, what are you doing?"
The brow was raised just the way she liked it.
And in her chest the love she felt for him tightened once again. She missed him so much that the little things like the lift of his eyebrow made her long for him.
"I'm viewing Christmas from a new perspective," came her reply the edges licked with her smirk.
"I see..."
But clearly he didn't.
She patted the floor beside her.
The other brow raised to match its fellow.
Her chin lifted towards him, she and the dog were partners in crime, had this pleading look down to a science these days. She didn't like to guilt him, but this current arrangement of living on different continents had to be a useful for a little bit of emotional bribery.
He looked away towards the window and the snow swirling down into the street below, his lips pressing into a thinner line and she knew he was giving in.
And true to form in a matter of seconds he was sinking to his knees, narrowing his eyes at her teasingly as he edged the dog sideways and worked his way slowly into the space by her side.
But he was smiling.
And her little family was now complete.
A moment she wished hard to remember always, still, calm and perfect after the tumble and chaos of her journey here.
Since he had collected her at the airport, rushing her into a wonderful, loving embrace, and somewhat shy public kiss, he had been a flurry of movement. One continuous rush, rushing her into the car, rushing her out of the snow and into the warmth of the apartment, with only a slight pause to indulge in another decidedly more intimate kiss at her instigation and then he had beseechingly wiggled away, rushing once again to hide the presents he had kept concealed from her persuasive fingers behind his back.
She hitched a little closer to him, enjoying simply being in the same place with to him.
Her eyes caressed over his form, noting the subtle changes, liking the slightly scruffier beard (good for keeping warmer in the cold, he had muttered self consciously when she had stroked it gently with the back of her fingers) his eyes were lit from above with the glimmering bulbs draped around the tree. Even in the dark green shadows he looked happier, more comfortable and relaxed.
Feeling light hearted and giddy she impulsively swooped forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
His lips curved, his palm reached out and caught her hand in his, entwining their fingers.
"I'm glad you're here."
His words were quiet and heartfelt.
She squeezed his fingers.
"I might be here a while if the snow keeps up," she whispered back, quite content with this predicament.
Both let their gaze drift from the tree above to his right, as she raised herself on her elbow to look over him and through the picture window.
The blizzard was still in full whirl, enclosing them in their own private Christmas snow globe bubble.
"Winter Wonderland," she proclaimed, feeling that nearly forgotten, giddy, childlike Christmas excitement growing. The sight of the white world out there making the Californian in her squeal with glee and shiver simultaneously.
The small balcony to their apartment was slowly acquiring its own drift, the second hand bicycle that she had used in summer months to navigate the rapid city at her own pace, now as covered with white powder snow and icicles as the ornate wrought iron railing that traversed the building.
"Well, we've plenty of food and I'm sure we can think of something to occupy us," she replied, sinking back to her recline, smiling slyly as she felt his gaze follow the contented stretch of her body.
Oh God, it was still there between them, probably even more intensified because of the time apart. It had always been there, always getting better and better. And she was actually rather enjoying her very own game of patience.
She could feel him continue to watch her, a sweet sense of awe in his attentions; as if he couldn't quite grasp that she really was there, just millimetres from him, her heart beating faster as the seconds progressed.
She felt his shoulder brush hers as he lifted their hands, the tree light catching on the thick gold wedding band he wore.
Yes, it had been a very good year.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips reverently to the back.
She'd never admit it aloud, but these tiny gestures from him always made her feel what she could only describe as swoony inside.
He was too charming for a husband, didn't he realise that she had been his from the first word he had spoken?
But as usual, for cover she nudged his shoulder with hers, turning the tables with a breathy, "Gilbert..." she drew out the syllables, trying not to grin, "have you been a good boy this year?"
Beside her he chuckled softly, and pretended to decide if he had, or hadn't before whispering the almost shy admission that "he hoped so," as he returned her soft kiss with one of his own to her cheek.
"It's been a good year, Sara," he said, echoing her thoughts, turning onto his side to face her, and nuzzling close.
They smiled at each other, noses stroking in lazy slow motion, eyes glimmering with love and coloured light, their mouths brushed on a soft gasp.
"In the absence of mistletoe," he murmured, as their lips hovered teasingly apart, "a Christmas tree could well be the perfect alternative."
Her amused agreement was lost as their mouths gently met.
His chest and lips still held the slight chill of the bedroom, and she had the great pleasure of curling her arms around him, feeling her own warmth spread. Tugging his lower lip into her own warmer heat, just the way he liked it.
A faint huff on the periphery of their hearing, sounded like it came from the dog, as he grumpily got to his feet and moved away from the humans who were well and truly invading his space with their affections.
But she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about disturbing the dog, Grissom was far too distracting.
His warming fingertips caressed her cheek with the lightest touch, trailing downward, teasing over the sweet spot under her jaw which made her breath catch.
His tender tongue stroking hers, drawing a slow moan from the depths of her.
God she had missed him so much.
The light way he touched her, filled with underlying strength.
He hummed teasingly against her mouth, easing away, brushing the scrape of his beard gently against her throat, breathing her in before rolling onto his back once again, smiling up at the tree smugly.
She could see the rapid staccato of her heart beating against her shirt, as she tried hard not to let herself sound as wonderfully breathless as she felt, and failed.
She shoved him, pouting, as he started to chuckle.
"Hmmm," his fingertip was on her skin again, tracing a lazy stroke from her hairline, sliding along her cheek to the very same spot that had made her shiver earlier.
And just as before his touch enticed the best kind of tingles.
She fought the wiggle, but he felt it anyway.
"Fascinating," he murmured, repeating his experiment to the same wonderful results, before his warm wandering finger began to ease its way along, and under the row of buttons that fastened her shirt, slipping them free in slow steady progression.
It was the briefest of skin to skin contact and yet the weeks of separation made her arch her back wanting, separating the fabric, exposing a soft expanse of warm bare skin to the hushed glow of the twinkle lights.
And in moments she was laughing softly, as the sweet pressure of his lips chased the patches of colour across her skin as she moved beneath him.
She closed her eyes, happy and floating as his mouth played more insistently, stirring her deep.
But her eyes flew open with a gasp as something cool and ticklish brushed over her stomach.
With a glimmer in his eye Gil stared back at her, quirky brow raised once more, as he stroked the strand of tinsel across her skin once again and she could only laugh and drag his naughty grinning mouth back to hers with a growl.
And things got nice and hazy after that.
Stirred with warmth, sweetness and pleasure, and softly whispered words of love.
It took her a moment, breathless, with her mind reeling from the steady intimate stroke of his body into hers, but it very slowly dawned that he was quoting.
"This is Christmas,"
Yet, no grand words of ancient lyrical masters were these.
"Christmas, My Dear,"
He was nearly singing, the familiar words surprisingly perfect, tightening both her heart and her arms around him.
"The time of year to be with the one you love..."
Author: Rianne
Rating: T
Paring: GSR.
Summary: A little flurry of Christmas Spirit.
Disclaimer: Not borrowed them for a while, thought I would dig them out of the snow, dust them off and give them a little Christmas cheer, heaps of fluff and a touch of Bon Jovi!
The Christmas Perspective
By Rianne
December 2010.
It was the only Christmas perspective.
Lying on ones back, underneath the glimmering coloured lights of the Christmas tree.
It made her quietly happy, as she lay there gazing up through the lush green branches of the beautiful real blue spruce tree, from this vantage point the world seem like a good place, even if just for a while.
This year, after so many spent in solitary longing, or working harder than the other 364 days, she wasn't alone.
This year she was thousands of miles away from work and stress and loneliness.
High in a beautiful and cosy Parisian apartment.
A warming fire roaring by her toasty sock clad feet, as beyond the huge picture window flakes of white tumbled, shimmering from the heavy sky. Catching in the gleaming street lights, fluttering to the ground, coating everything in its path with a glittering fairytale quiet.
'Gil?" she called out coaxingly.
The rustling in the other room halted for a second.
He had told her to stay put and keep out of the bedroom.
The suspense was killing her.
The dog beside her opened one eye, disturbed by her voice.
He had been quite contented, sprawled by the fire after his most recent brush with the freezing cold, white stuff outside. Had been lazily watching her as she fidgeted, distractedly attempting to read the book she had bought out of delay desperation at the airport, yet it wasn't holding her attention. It instead kept being drawn back to the funny smelling item he usually associated with park and walk which now sat in one corner of the room.
It had been dragged inside a couple of days ago, and he had been repeatedly warned after his first attempt that it was not there for his ease of convenience instead of his going outside and after the harsh glare of warning he had been given he daren't try and pee on it again, he'd much rather go outside into the cold!
He had been punished since, by being made to wear a new collar with a stupid jingly bell, which she had thought adorable when she had returned and he had tried to scratch off with his paw to no avail.
Not that he wasn't happy to have her back. The air changed when she came back. It was sweeter, and better, and there were more smuggled treats.
But to add to the curiousness of having her back, just as he was finally settling into sleep she had moved, and one eye had bemusedly tracked her as she got down on her hands and knees to slide across the floor and crawl under the funny smelling tree in the corner and stretch herself out on the rug.
He ruffed making the tinsel strands billow and settled again leaving her to her bizarre humanness.
In the other room the rustling wrapping sound had resumed.
Presents!
Her mouth twitched as she thought about all the neatly wrapped surprises carefully stored in her carry on case. Gifts from people at the Lab, brushed wrapper with more personal gifts she herself had searched for and deliberated over. She had felt like Mrs. Claus passing though the airport with her suitcase filled with magical secrets.
Trading one City of Lights, for another even more renowned City of Lights and her own private light show right here, enchanting her from above.
Breathing deep the scent of fresh pine was sharp and Christmassy and nothing like the flimsy cardboard imitation scent left still swinging from her car rear view mirror way back in Vegas.
No, there was nothing like a real Christmas tree, and nothing could compare to stretching out beneath it and gazing up through the decorated branches whether you were four and like herself were edging perilously closer to the big 4 and 0.
Reaching up she caressed a fingertip to a beautiful glitter coated bauble, dancing just above her cheek, the firelight caught differently on each of its multitude of speckles, making the opalescent sphere twinkle.
She sighed contentedly, there was only one thing missing.
"Gil?" she tried to tempt again.
A faint growl of frustration drifted from beyond the closed door and made her suck in her grin.
Wrapping was hard for a man as particular about neatness and presentation as her husband. Whilst she on the other hand camouflaged gifts the quickest way she could, leaving unidentifiable objects wrapped tightly in tape and disguised with shop bought bows. To her the gift inside was more important than the decoration, paper was only torn and shredded, but to him Christmas wasn't the same without this strange ritual torturing of his patience.
But she hadn't travelled all this way to spend Christmas Eve with the dog!
"Gilbert!" The exasperation was mild, the words dipped more in humour than impatience.
The door opened a crack and she could see him peering though into the darkened room, trying to make sense of the book discarded on the table, and the fact that he couldn't see her in her current recline.
"Sara?" He queried, his voice light, "Où êtes-vous?"
She smirked, wondering if he knew that he was still speaking in French, he seemed to meander in between languages at the drop of a hat these days.
Her toes curled in her warm socks, as she tried not to laugh, trying to keep still in her hiding place beneath the tree.
But it only took a few more seconds for him to search her out.
He crossed the room to her, stopping at her toes, reaching out one of this own to nudge against her ankle.
"Sara, what are you doing?"
The brow was raised just the way she liked it.
And in her chest the love she felt for him tightened once again. She missed him so much that the little things like the lift of his eyebrow made her long for him.
"I'm viewing Christmas from a new perspective," came her reply the edges licked with her smirk.
"I see..."
But clearly he didn't.
She patted the floor beside her.
The other brow raised to match its fellow.
Her chin lifted towards him, she and the dog were partners in crime, had this pleading look down to a science these days. She didn't like to guilt him, but this current arrangement of living on different continents had to be a useful for a little bit of emotional bribery.
He looked away towards the window and the snow swirling down into the street below, his lips pressing into a thinner line and she knew he was giving in.
And true to form in a matter of seconds he was sinking to his knees, narrowing his eyes at her teasingly as he edged the dog sideways and worked his way slowly into the space by her side.
But he was smiling.
And her little family was now complete.
A moment she wished hard to remember always, still, calm and perfect after the tumble and chaos of her journey here.
Since he had collected her at the airport, rushing her into a wonderful, loving embrace, and somewhat shy public kiss, he had been a flurry of movement. One continuous rush, rushing her into the car, rushing her out of the snow and into the warmth of the apartment, with only a slight pause to indulge in another decidedly more intimate kiss at her instigation and then he had beseechingly wiggled away, rushing once again to hide the presents he had kept concealed from her persuasive fingers behind his back.
She hitched a little closer to him, enjoying simply being in the same place with to him.
Her eyes caressed over his form, noting the subtle changes, liking the slightly scruffier beard (good for keeping warmer in the cold, he had muttered self consciously when she had stroked it gently with the back of her fingers) his eyes were lit from above with the glimmering bulbs draped around the tree. Even in the dark green shadows he looked happier, more comfortable and relaxed.
Feeling light hearted and giddy she impulsively swooped forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
His lips curved, his palm reached out and caught her hand in his, entwining their fingers.
"I'm glad you're here."
His words were quiet and heartfelt.
She squeezed his fingers.
"I might be here a while if the snow keeps up," she whispered back, quite content with this predicament.
Both let their gaze drift from the tree above to his right, as she raised herself on her elbow to look over him and through the picture window.
The blizzard was still in full whirl, enclosing them in their own private Christmas snow globe bubble.
"Winter Wonderland," she proclaimed, feeling that nearly forgotten, giddy, childlike Christmas excitement growing. The sight of the white world out there making the Californian in her squeal with glee and shiver simultaneously.
The small balcony to their apartment was slowly acquiring its own drift, the second hand bicycle that she had used in summer months to navigate the rapid city at her own pace, now as covered with white powder snow and icicles as the ornate wrought iron railing that traversed the building.
"Well, we've plenty of food and I'm sure we can think of something to occupy us," she replied, sinking back to her recline, smiling slyly as she felt his gaze follow the contented stretch of her body.
Oh God, it was still there between them, probably even more intensified because of the time apart. It had always been there, always getting better and better. And she was actually rather enjoying her very own game of patience.
She could feel him continue to watch her, a sweet sense of awe in his attentions; as if he couldn't quite grasp that she really was there, just millimetres from him, her heart beating faster as the seconds progressed.
She felt his shoulder brush hers as he lifted their hands, the tree light catching on the thick gold wedding band he wore.
Yes, it had been a very good year.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips reverently to the back.
She'd never admit it aloud, but these tiny gestures from him always made her feel what she could only describe as swoony inside.
He was too charming for a husband, didn't he realise that she had been his from the first word he had spoken?
But as usual, for cover she nudged his shoulder with hers, turning the tables with a breathy, "Gilbert..." she drew out the syllables, trying not to grin, "have you been a good boy this year?"
Beside her he chuckled softly, and pretended to decide if he had, or hadn't before whispering the almost shy admission that "he hoped so," as he returned her soft kiss with one of his own to her cheek.
"It's been a good year, Sara," he said, echoing her thoughts, turning onto his side to face her, and nuzzling close.
They smiled at each other, noses stroking in lazy slow motion, eyes glimmering with love and coloured light, their mouths brushed on a soft gasp.
"In the absence of mistletoe," he murmured, as their lips hovered teasingly apart, "a Christmas tree could well be the perfect alternative."
Her amused agreement was lost as their mouths gently met.
His chest and lips still held the slight chill of the bedroom, and she had the great pleasure of curling her arms around him, feeling her own warmth spread. Tugging his lower lip into her own warmer heat, just the way he liked it.
A faint huff on the periphery of their hearing, sounded like it came from the dog, as he grumpily got to his feet and moved away from the humans who were well and truly invading his space with their affections.
But she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about disturbing the dog, Grissom was far too distracting.
His warming fingertips caressed her cheek with the lightest touch, trailing downward, teasing over the sweet spot under her jaw which made her breath catch.
His tender tongue stroking hers, drawing a slow moan from the depths of her.
God she had missed him so much.
The light way he touched her, filled with underlying strength.
He hummed teasingly against her mouth, easing away, brushing the scrape of his beard gently against her throat, breathing her in before rolling onto his back once again, smiling up at the tree smugly.
She could see the rapid staccato of her heart beating against her shirt, as she tried hard not to let herself sound as wonderfully breathless as she felt, and failed.
She shoved him, pouting, as he started to chuckle.
"Hmmm," his fingertip was on her skin again, tracing a lazy stroke from her hairline, sliding along her cheek to the very same spot that had made her shiver earlier.
And just as before his touch enticed the best kind of tingles.
She fought the wiggle, but he felt it anyway.
"Fascinating," he murmured, repeating his experiment to the same wonderful results, before his warm wandering finger began to ease its way along, and under the row of buttons that fastened her shirt, slipping them free in slow steady progression.
It was the briefest of skin to skin contact and yet the weeks of separation made her arch her back wanting, separating the fabric, exposing a soft expanse of warm bare skin to the hushed glow of the twinkle lights.
And in moments she was laughing softly, as the sweet pressure of his lips chased the patches of colour across her skin as she moved beneath him.
She closed her eyes, happy and floating as his mouth played more insistently, stirring her deep.
But her eyes flew open with a gasp as something cool and ticklish brushed over her stomach.
With a glimmer in his eye Gil stared back at her, quirky brow raised once more, as he stroked the strand of tinsel across her skin once again and she could only laugh and drag his naughty grinning mouth back to hers with a growl.
And things got nice and hazy after that.
Stirred with warmth, sweetness and pleasure, and softly whispered words of love.
It took her a moment, breathless, with her mind reeling from the steady intimate stroke of his body into hers, but it very slowly dawned that he was quoting.
"This is Christmas,"
Yet, no grand words of ancient lyrical masters were these.
"Christmas, My Dear,"
He was nearly singing, the familiar words surprisingly perfect, tightening both her heart and her arms around him.
"The time of year to be with the one you love..."