7 comments/ 32033 views/ 1 favorites CSI: Trust By: mrwrong972 It had started simply enough. "I need some help with some pictures." How many times a week did they make statements like that at the lab. How often did they ask each other for help with evidence, with procedure, with recreations? You never knew when you were going to find yourself freezing to the bone as you watched a pig in a blanket. Not a sausage in a pastry, an actual to God pig, slowly bloating, in a blanket. Or when you were going to be compressed with weights or spattered with blood or bound to Grissom-knows-what. It came with the job. I could even be fun. "What kind of pictures, Gris?" "Sara." He'd looked at his shoes, as if they held all life's answers. Maybe they did. They sure as hell weren't in his eyes. She'd looked. Often. "What sort of pictures, Grissom?" "The Kincaid case. We're trying to undo the computer distortions from the emails, but we need a baseline picture series to measure from. Angles, skin tones for light refraction." Suddenly her shoes were fascinating too. Bondage, rape, suspension, repeated sexual assault. Kincaid. The cops were already calling it "Kink-aid." "You're kidding, right?" He'd shaken his head, but muttered, "Never mind. Sorry." "No," she'd said, full of the reckless, self-destructive bravado that overtook her whenever he wanted her. For anything. "I'll do it." "We'll mask out your face, but... well, we can mask out your face." That's when it had hit her. He meant to shoot her nude. Not nude, naked. Defenseless, powerless, bound. She'd had to bite her cheek to keep from moaning. "I don't know," he'd said suddenly, pulling back from asking anything of her. Two steps forward. Two steps back. The Grissom-Sidle tango, not for the faint of heart. "Sure. Let's do it. Come on. I trust you." She'd thrown that at him, dared him. For once, it had worked. "We'll seal a lab. I'll have someone on the door, develop it all myself." He still couldn't face her. "No, let's use your place. I trust you. These guys here, no." She'd turned and started down the hallway. She looked back. "You coming?" ** The flash fired again and she was blinded, near tears. She hung, her elbows cinched tightly together behind her back, making her modest breasts thrust out. Despite the warm lights her sweat felt cold against her skin. The lines that suspended her over the white sheet cast razor cut shadows that sliced back and forth as she hung from the improvised railing. "Last series," he said. He wore his gloves as he worked the camera, she could see, and she wondered why. Was it habit? Or was he distancing himself from the bizarre sight in his blacked out living room? He was sweating, she saw, more than she. "It's okay. I'm okay." She felt the way her thighs were parted, and only a thin strip of cotton covered her sex as he focused the lens on it. She wanted him, despite the weird paraphernalia, or because of it. She knew he could see the way she was soaking the thin cotton, and not from sweat. "I trust you." It was her new mantra, she heard it over and over in her head, and voiced it every time he touched her, positioned her this way or that. Suddenly, she was lowering, the lines creaking as she touched down on the sheet. "We're finished," he said thickly. "Let me help you." She gave in, to the moment, to the fantasy, to the need to not be in control, to not be fighting how much she needed him. For one moment, she gave in. When he went to unfasten her bonds, she hung her head, and slid her knees up under her, so she knelt, supine before him, arms bound, cheek to the sheet, her sex clearly exposed as the thin modesty strip fell away. "I trust you," she begged softly, and flexed her hips, raising her ass higher, opening herself to him. She wondered if he was scared, or disgusted. She wondered if this damaged thing between them was finally broken, by her admission of need, her submission, of need. She wondered, and she waited. He said nothing. She heard nothing, the blood pounding in her ears. She drew a breath, to cry, to shout, to scream, something. Anything, waiting for him, dreading the release and the awkward dressing and retreat that she knew was coming. With the shock of a knife in her heart, she felt him. Felt his body behind her as he fell to his knees. Felt the softest skin of a man's body, harbinger of his awful wonderful hardness, gliding along her wet folds. His hand rested on her hip, the other came down to grasp the cuffs that bound her. He entered her, slowly, silently. She tried to push back, to capture him, to throw herself onto him, but he restrained her with gentle certainty and slid, methodically as only he could ever do, inside her. She felt the flare, the heated corona of his glans, the rougher flesh of his shaft, as he plumbed her depths, until she was full, and her tears soaked the sheet beneath her. She felt him inside her, his thighs pressing to her buttocks, the crisp fine hair of his body as bright as wire against her achingly aware flesh. He was joined, inside her as much as he could be, the tip of his penis slid obliquely across the entrance to her womb deep within her, and still he did not thrust, did not move except to tighten the flush of his body against her. "I trust you," she sobbed, and he suddenly undid the cuffs. She collapsed, her arms screamed as blood returned, and her vagina went into spasm and tightened around him, drawing the fluid from him into her. He leaned into her, and poured his vital essence, that complex and miraculous fluid that they so often dealt with only as 'trace,' as 'sample' or 'contribution.' She could feel the pulse of his ejaculation like a hammer blow against her cervix, and she trembled with the power of it like a church bell struck for the hour. He slowly lowered his weight onto her, till his beard tickled her shoulder and his lips whispered into her ear. "Good," he said. -fin- CSI: Trust Series - Intoxication From the moment he met Sara Sidle, Josh knew she was special. He was fresh out of college, working for the Chronicle, and about to set the journalism world on fire. Sara was a rookie CSI with a fire in her belly, a brain rivaled only by the size of her heart and nightmares in her eyes. He was drawn to her because of her quirkiness. But then he got to know her, really know her, and he was hooked. He lost count of the number of hours, and beers, the two of them had wasted talking about the man he was about to meet. The great Gil Grissom...The Man, The Legend. At least in Sara's eyes. Not that he had anything against him. After all, he couldn't be that bad if he had stolen Sara's heart. Besides, he didn't have time to worry about that because the man was on the way. CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI The directions Sara gave him were easy to follow and Grissom made it to the cottage just before sunset. He parked behind her car and stepped out, stretching his tired muscles. Gazing out toward the ocean, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the Pacific coast. The blood red sun dipped into the water, turning the tips of the waves golden. The sky was glorious, pink and orange and purple that darkened to indigo miles above the horizon. For a moment, the only sound was the waves as they crashed on the beach. Then the quiet of the October evening was interrupted by the sound of a door slapping against its frame. Sara flew across the few yards separating them and, before he could say a word his arms were full of warm, excited woman. And she was kissing him, stealing his breath and making his heart hammer against his ribs. Standing in the open doorway, Josh watched as Grissom opened his arms to Sara and kissed her. Boy, did he kiss her. His hands were all over her; shoulders, back, ass, arms. He simply opened his mouth and devoured her. But Sara gave as good as she got. She held on to him for dear life. And right there Josh got it. Grissom wasn't Brad Pitt, but he was handsome and well dressed and desperately in love with his wife. And watching the two of them together was an incendiary experience. Desperate to break the spell, Josh stepped outside and let the door bang shut behind him. Lost. Grissom was lost in her, the feel of her, the taste of her, the smell of her. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her right there. Outside with nothing between them except the crisp October air. He couldn't stop touching her; her shoulders, her back, her ass, her arms. He couldn't get close enough. He had started to work his hands under her shirt when the sound of the door slamming for the second time snapped him back to the present. Breaking the kiss, Sara leaned back against Grissom's arms and smiled. "I've missed you so much." Grissom settled his growing erection more firmly against her and grinned. "I've missed you, too." "I can tell." She gave a quick wiggle of her hips and, when he groaned, a soft chuff of laughter. "Later. First I want you to meet Josh." Josh was tall, at least three inches taller than Grissom, and handsome in a surfer sort of way. Broad shoulders and hard muscles. Crow's feet and a tan. Sun streaked hair that flopped over hazel eyes that appeared amber in the waning light. And a smile that could easily rival Sara's. For a moment, Grissom simply stared at him, awed by his physical beauty and more than a little jealous of the time he'd been spending with Sara. The three of them cooked dinner; bumping around in the kitchen, laughing and talking, drinking beer that was icy from being in the cooler Josh left out on the deck. Josh manned the grill, turning out two perfect steaks and a beautiful salmon fillet for Sara. Baked potatoes, a basket of crusty rolls and a big salad filled with tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers completed the meal. Abandoning the beer, they washed everything down with the wine Grissom brought. Sara and Josh cleared the table while Grissom built a fire. Then they settled down in front of the fireplace. Grissom and Sara on the sofa and Josh in the arm chair. Already a little tipsy, they opened a second bottle of wine. Conversation was lively. Grissom and Sara shared stories of cases they had worked, entertaining Josh with the more outrageous people they had encountered over the years. When Grissom related the story of the man and woman with a dishwasher full of dildos, Josh laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. Wiping at his eyes, Josh said, "I'll bet you get hit on all the time." The alcohol made his words slower than they would have been. Sara shrugged. "You'd think the smell of decomp would put them off but..." Glancing at Sara, Grissom just grinned as he finished her thought. "It is Vegas." Deliberately locking his eyes on Grissom, Josh asked, "Ever been hit on by a man?" Something in Josh's gaze had Grissom swallowing hard. A tingle started low in his belly. "Of course." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Why do you ask?" With a shrug, Josh looked at Sara and then back to Grissom. "Cause I can definitely see why. I wouldn't mind being the man to turn you out." A grin slid over his face when Grissom's eyes widened. "Don't look so surprised. Surely, Sara told you I'm gay." "No, she didn't." Grissom's eyebrow rose toward his hairline. "Why would she?" "No reason, I guess." Raising his glass, Josh took a sip of wine. He was quiet for a moment, studying the flames. "Have you ever thought about it?" Grissom shot a glance at Sara. His words were reluctant, as if he was afraid to ask the question. "Thought about what?" Again, that tingle low in his belly, that frisson of awareness skittering along his nerve endings. Sara's fingers dug into his thigh. She was holding her breath, and he knew she was waiting to hear both the question and his answer. She knew him better than anyone, but she had never been brave enough to go down that road. Even after their trip to New York and her...their experiment with that waitress. She was still uneasy talking about it, almost as if she were embarrassed by the whole thing when she definitely had no reason to be. Josh, however, seemed to have no reservations about the topic. "Having sex with a man? You know. Have you ever wondered what it would be like?" He paused, watching Grissom for a moment. "What another guy's dick would feel like in your hand? What it would taste like? If a man's mouth would feel different from a woman's? Have you ever looked at another man and thought about seeing him naked?" Grissom raised his glass, ignoring the slight tremble in his hand, and took a fortifying drink of wine. He could feel Sara holding her breath the way she did when she was about to uncover an important clue and he risked a glance in her direction. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. Her gaze was hot, desire simmering just below the surface. In a voice calmer than he felt, Grissom said, "I would be lying if I said no." The silence in the room was deafening. He could hear the hiss of the flames and the faint crashing of the waves from outside. Josh's mouth hung open for a moment. He had been baiting Grissom and only expected blustering and posturing as his response. Instead, he received a quiet, calm admission and he wasn't exactly sure how to react. "You don't seem to have a problem admitting that." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I guess I wasn't expecting that. Especially in front of your wife." His eyes never leaving Sara, Grissom replied, "I have nothing to hide. Not from Sara." Once again turning to face Josh, he continued, "Now can we talk about something else, please?" Lulled by the food, the sweet buzz of alcohol and the heat of the flames, the conversation slowed. Sara snuggled against Grissom, her hand on his thigh, her fingers absently stroking over the firm muscle she found there. Occasionally, he would run a hand over Sara's hair or tug her closer to brush his lips over her temple. The fire had burned down to glowing coals and candles were the only other light in the room. The three of them were sitting in comfortable silence until Josh spoke up. His words were a little slurred and his eyes blurry. "Back in a second." He swayed a little as he stood. "Oooo... Gonna pay for this in the morning." Sara smiled drowsily, "Can't remember the last time I drank this much." Moving across the room, he called back. "Tell me about it. I'm getting too old for this shit." A door closed and Sara turned to Grissom. "How 'bout you, Gil? You gonna be hung over in the morning?" Grissom nodded. "Oh yeah." Leaning closer she brushed her lips over his jaw. "What you said earlier..." He smiled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Knew you weren't gonna let that go." He turned to face her, trying to see her eyes. "Hmmmmmm." She ran a hand over his chest. "Just wanna tell you, that if you ever want to...experiment, it's okay. Your pleasure is my pleasure, remember?" With a low growl, he kissed her; a slow, thorough exploration of her mouth. Sara sighed and opened her lips to him. Once again, their kiss was interrupted by Josh. "Hey, you two," Josh laughed. "Get a room already." Blushing, Sara pulled away from Grissom and slowly, seductively licked her bottom lip, savoring the taste of him, the memory of his kiss. Turning to face her friend, she said, "Just let me clean this up first." She picked up her glass and drained the last of the wine. "Nope." Josh ambled over and plucked the glass from her fingers. "You two obviously need some alone time. I'll clean up." Standing, she smiled down at Grissom and held out her hand. "You heard the man. It's bed time." With a murmured goodnight for Josh, Grissom took her hand and allowed Sara to lead him to the bedroom, both of them weaving just a little. Closing the door behind him, Grissom tugged Sara around to face him. Without a word, one hand tangled in her hair and his lips covered hers in a deep kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, moving over her teeth, stroking against her tongue. Shuffling forward, he guided her backward until her legs hit the bed. Their hands were urgent, pushing at clothing, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers until they were skin to skin. Falling on the bed, they moved against each other, legs twining to find that perfect fit, both of them groaning. With a giggle, Sara made shushing noises. "God, you feel so good." Grissom's voice was ragged as he rubbed his cock against her belly leaving a trail of pre-cum across her skin. Sara's hips twitched, grinding against his hardness. "Oh yeah. I've missed you." One hand covered a breast, his fingers teasing her nipple while the other gripped her ass, pulling her closer. His lips slid along her jaw and down her neck. "Want to taste you." He moaned against her collarbone. He tried to move Sara onto her back but she pushed at his shoulders. When she was straddling him, she leaned over and nipped at his lips. "Do that later. I need you in me now." Slipping a hand between her thighs, Grissom groaned. "So wet." "Since you got out of the car." Sara murmured as she gripped his cock. "Been ready since then." With a hand that shook, she lined up his cock at her entrance and slid down, slowly, her muscles gripping him every inch of the way. The groan that came from Grissom had Sara clamping a hand over his mouth. "Shhhhh. Josh'll hear you." But when Grissom slid a hand between them and brushed over her clit, Sara threw her head back and moaned, long and loud. Reaching up with one hand, he gripped the back of her neck and tugged her down. Understanding his unspoken request, Sara moved her hand and pressed her mouth to his in a sloppy kiss full of heat. Grissom's other hand was covering her breast, squeezing and kneading the pliant flesh. Slowly, she began to move, rocking back and forth on his prick. Even muffled by their kiss the sounds of sex were audible -- grunts and sighs and murmured words. Outside the door, Josh listened. He hadn't intended to, but the whispers and moans, the creaking of the bed, seemed to call to him. Just the thought of what was happening inside that room had him rock hard. Twice he turned away, determined to go to his own room and jack off. But the wine and the conversation from earlier kept him coming back. Finally, with more bravado than he felt, he eased the door open. All he wanted was a peek, a glimpse of Grissom naked, to feed his fantasies. But when the door was open a couple of inches and he saw the couple on the bed, illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window, he was unable to look away. Instead he stared, mesmerized, as Sara rode up and down on Grissom. He watched as Grissom guided her with his hands on her hips. He throbbed as he imagined what it would feel like to be in her place, the thickness of that cock stretching his ass until he was sure he would burst. Josh began to squeeze his erection through his boxers, unconsciously mirroring the rhythm set by the couple on the bed. While he stood watching, Grissom bent his knees and placed his feet flat on the mattress. Then he began to match Sara's strokes, pushing up as he pulled her down; lifting her almost off him and then slamming their bodies together, both of them grunting with the effort. His thigh muscles bunched with every pulse of his hips. His balls, full and heavy, swayed with the force of his thrusts. Josh kept his eyes trained on the place where their bodies met watching each inch of Grissom's cock, glistening with Sara's juices, as it appeared and disappeared. Without really thinking about it, he took a step forward, his foot colliding with the door. The panel opened wider with a screech of hinges that made him grimace and the people on the bed froze in place. Sara's head spun around and Grissom's eyes flew open and they each stared at him in shock. Grissom was the first to react. He sat up, wrapping his arms around Sara, trying to hide her from Josh's gaze. "What the hell are you doing?" Sara began frantically searching for a sheet or a blanket to pull over them, while Josh stood just outside the door and stared, his mouth and hands working convulsively to explain his presence in their bedroom. "I'm sorry. It's just...the sounds...and the wine...and..." Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands through his hair. Still neither of them said a word. They simply watched Josh watching them. Emboldened by their silence, Josh took a couple of steps into the room. "I just wanted a look. Just a little something to think about while I...uh..." He gestured at the prominent ridge of his erection. "But then I saw you, both of you, and I couldn't stop watching." Sara finally located the edge of the sheet and dragged the cloth up to cover them. "Look, I know I shouldn't be here. But I didn't mean to..." "Get caught?" Sara's voice was laser sharp and Josh winced. Josh began backing up, one hand flailing behind him in search of the door. "No...Yeah." Again he ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Just...let's just forget this ever happened." "You really think that's possible?" Her chuff of laughter held no hint of humor. Josh shrugged. "I will say that seeing your old man naked isn't something I'm likely to forget." Grissom didn't say a word, but he knew Sara could feel his cock twitch when she turned to watch his face. He simply stared at Josh with an odd expression on his face, a mix between mortification and curiosity. Looking at them, Josh swallowed and said, "Okay. Let's be honest." His eyes found Grissom's. "I want to suck the taste of her off your dick." At those words, Sara's muscles tightened around Grissom's softening cock and he shuddered. "Now that we have that out in the open I'm going to leave." Josh watched Grissom, noting the way the other man looked at him. "Do you want me to leave, Gil?" Grissom simply tightened his arms around Sara and studied the man. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say. What's my line, here?" Sara's eyes darted between the two men. Finally, it was she who answered, not Josh. "Say what you feel. No recriminations. No regrets. Your pleasure is my pleasure." CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI "Fuck!" Grissom's voice was ragged. Slowly, steadily, the mouth covering Grissom's cock slid up and down. His plan had been to remain detached, to observe and learn from this experience. But from the first flick of Josh's tongue over the swollen head of his cock, and the first press of a callused palm on the thin skin of his scrotum, Grissom was lost. He reached out and wound his hand through those sun streaked curls. Short and choppy, the soft locks coiled around his fingers. Hand flexing, Grissom barely resisted the urge to press down on the back of Josh's head, to force his cock into the man's throat. But he held back. Instead, he studied the long line of the other man's back, fascinated by the way the muscles moved under the skin, by the blurry tan line along Josh's lower back and the creamy white globes of his ass. Sara, too, watched every move. At first she had been afraid that being naked in front of another man, even a gay man, would be too awkward. But that quickly disappeared. Instead she found herself enthralled by the sight of Josh's mouth swallowing Grissom's prick. She glanced away just long enough to look at Grissom's face. His eyes were closed and his breathing was erratic. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Sara was behind him, Grissom's head against her shoulder. Her legs wrapped around him, her feet running up and down his thighs. Her pussy was wet and hot against Grissom's back. Her hands slid over his chest, her fingers pinching his nipples. When she bent forward and sank her teeth into the muscle along the top of his shoulder Grissom's hips pushed forward. For a second, Josh recoiled, gagging as the hard prick bumped against his throat. But then he lowered his head, meeting Grissom half way. "Damn, that's so hot!" Sara groaned against his ear. Her words wrapped around Grissom, fucking his mind like he was fucking Josh's mouth. "Is he good, lover? You like Josh sucking your dick?" He started to answer when Josh slipped a finger between his smooth cheeks and brushed over the rough pucker of his asshole. What little rational thought he had left was lost. Instead, his words hissed out on a rush of air. "Oh God, yesssssssssss." Grissom tugged at Josh's hair. "Wait...," he panted. When he could breathe again, Grissom turned his head and looked up at Sara. He used his free hand to pull her down and into a kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Josh's hand never left Grissom's cock. He stroked gently along the turgid flesh, keeping Grissom's need alive. He tore his mouth from hers and turned to look at Josh, watching as the strong hand slid up and down, up and down. Patting the bed with his right hand, Grissom motioned for Josh to move. "Come here." He could feel Sara's breath catch as Josh moved to the spot Grissom had indicated and sat back on his heels. When Grissom ran a fingertip along the length of Josh's hardness, Sara's whispered 'oh my God' brushed over his ear. But Grissom was totally focused on the new sensations. Warm and hard and silky and alive. Josh's penis throbbed when Grissom wrapped his hand around it. The shaft was thick and veiny and the red of the tip was so deep it looked almost angry. Tentatively, Grissom moved his hand up and down. He watched Josh's every reaction, cataloged every second. Unconsciously, he began to match his strokes with Josh's. Sara's eyes were glued to Grissom's hand. She felt every stroke between her thighs. She heard a whimpering noise and was surprised to realize it was coming from her. Grissom turned once again and ran his tongue from the hollow of her throat to her chin. "Want to taste you." His raspy words were mumbled against her skin. CSI: Trust Series - Intoxication Josh watched, again captivated by the couple as Sara slipped a hand between their bodies and drew her fingers across her dripping slit. Bringing her hand up, she rubbed her gleaming digits over Grissom's lips. When he sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue, she and Josh both moaned. Slowly, he let her fingers slip from his mouth. "Not quite what I meant." Sara's smile, as she looked down at the two men, was predatory. "I didn't think it was." Untangling herself, Sara knelt across from Josh. Leaning forward, she placed her hand over her his, and together they stroked her husband's dick. "Stop!" His voice wasn't his own. Low and guttural, he pleaded with them. "Not yet. Too good." Reluctantly, Sara released him. "You ready?" With a grin, Grissom nodded. "Born ready." She swung one leg over his body and positioned herself over his head. Grissom put his free hand on her hip and for a moment he held her in place; breathing in her scent, drinking in the very essence of her. And then he pulled her down until he could taste her. The air was filled with the sounds of sex; sucking and moaning and the ragged breathing of all three. Sara gripped the headboard with one hand and with the other she massaged her breasts, raising her nipples into tight peaks. With the first stroke of Grissom's tongue over her swollen lips, Sara's eyes had slammed shut, blocking out everything but the feel of his mouth on her flesh. She wanted nothing more than his tongue on her clit, she ached for the release it would bring and she growled in frustration at his adoration of her left inner thigh. His quiet chuckle had her wiggling against his cheek, searching for his mouth with her body. Grissom continued to slide his hand up and down Josh's length. He applied more pressure, feeling Josh's reaction through the tightening of his thighs, the way his hand trembled against Grissom's own hardness. Everything, every moan, every gasp, every whisper, was pushing him closer to the edge. His big body was almost vibrating with the need for release. At that point, even breathing seemed to take a back seat to reaching orgasm. Nothing, not even dignity, was more important than the need blazing through him. "Suck it," he growled in frustration. "Suck. My. Dick." Vaguely, he heard Sara's gasp of surprise and Josh's triumphant chuckle, but he just didn't care. Josh's mouth closed over him and everything seemed to happen at once. He turned his head and found Sara's clit, teasing it with his tongue, sucking it between his lips. His hand continued to slide over Josh's cock, moving faster and faster as he became more focused on the intense pleasure of the moment. All three of them were rushing toward the finish line. Each of them focused on his or her own pleasure. With a sound that Grissom had never heard her make, Sara came first. He could feel her muscles quivering and pulsing with her climax. It seemed that she set off a chain reaction because suddenly Grissom was over the edge; his body shaking and tightening with the force of his orgasm. And Josh was there, swallowing convulsively as Grissom spilled himself into his mouth. Finally, Josh let go. His come spurting across Grissom's stomach, leaving a milky white trail against the tanned skin. Eventually, they began to move. Josh stood and padded into the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth and cleaning Grissom's stomach. Retrieving his t-shirt and boxers from the floor by the bed, he quickly slipped them on. Turning back to the bed, he took a moment to look at the couple spooned together there. Walking to the side of the bed, he bent and placed a kiss on Grissom's mouth, soft and chaste considering what had transpired mere minutes before. Then he did the same for Sara, lingering just a moment to let her taste Grissom on his lips. For a few seconds more, he watched them, knowing that he would never have the opportunity again. That they would never speak of it again. Without a word, he turned and left the room.