Green Eggs and Rejection
Sara Hears A No
Sara strode down the corridor with a determined look on her face. Grissom's office was her intended target, and she wasn't planning on leaving until she had the answer she wanted to hear.
She wanted him to go out to dinner with her. It was simple -- nothing complex.
She didn't want any complexities, and that was one of the reasons for her attraction to him. On top of his beautiful eyes, alluring mouth, and sexy mind, he seemed to be the kind of man that would keep simple relationships.
Sara stopped short when she saw Catherine coming out of Gil's office with a smile on her lips. "So, you're still coming over tomorrow to tutor Lindsey?" Catherine was asking.
"Does a tarantula shed?" Came Gil's voice from his office.
Sara had to force the scowl off of her face as Catherine came by. "Hey, Sara," Cath said.
She nodded in the older woman’s direction, feeling her shoulders rise a little in tension as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck bristled. She managed to utter through gritted teeth: “Hi, Catherine.”
Behind her, she heard footsteps. Long, relaxed, wide; she decided it must be Warrick, confirming it after hearing his voice. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?”
Sara shrugged, nerves and hostility keeping her from being jovial. “Fine.”
Catherine eyed her briefly, and then returned to face Warrick. “Just trying to get Gil to loosen up and have fun on his day off tomorrow.”
“I heard that,” came his voice from his office. “Who went to the zoo with you last weekend?”
Catherine and Warrick laughed. The strawberry blonde smiled and called back. “You did. Don’t worry. I didn’t forget.”
Sara looked at Catherine, and wondered what role the woman played in Grissom’s life. After reviewing what evidence she had collected, she felt deep down that they couldn’t be more than friends; Grissom would’ve told her if something was going on between them, she believed.
"Lindsey's going to enter the science fair with a project on fingerprinting, but she needs help with the finer points," Catherine explained, though the words were the last thing Sara wanted to hear. "And she won't listen to me," Cath added with a shrug.
"I could help her," Sara said in a dull tone. "But, then again, you never asked."
Catherine stared at Sara for a moment, then said, "You okay?"
"Fine," Sara replied, shaking it off and smiling a forced smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me -- I've gotta..."
"Comin' through," Nick yelled, rushing through the corridor with a wad of papers in his hand.
"...Get run over by Mr. Cheerful Happy Face," Sara finished after Nick had slammed her against the wall in his haste.
Warrick smirked as Sara smoothed her hands over her clothes. “You look stressed, Sidle, what’s up?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”
Catherine stepped forward, examining Sara’s face. “You looked flushed. Fever?”
“I’m fine,” she huffed. “Just fine.”
Catherine drew back and shook her head, raising her hands in surrender. "Okay, fine -- but if you want to talk..."
Sara forced another smile. "I know where to go," she said in a snide tone, turning and walking toward Grissom's office again.
"So, basically you need me to do your paperwork?" Gil was saying as she came to a stop in his doorway.
"Well... yeah," Nick said.
Gil spoke next: “Nick, part of the job is to do your own paperwork.”
“I know,” Nick’s voice raised by half a pitch, it seemed. “But, I thought maybe you could just help me get started. I mean, once I get into the swing of things...”
“Why did they choose you to be the secretary of this club?”
“My boyish charms?”
Gil responded. “Must be.” He sighed. “I can’t organize your entire information package, but I can help you with what you’ve got.”
“How’s tomorrow?”
“I have a date,” Gil responded, “So that probably wouldn’t work out.”
"Since when does Gil Grissom have a date?" Sara interjected, her voice sarcastic.
"Since none of your business," Gil replied. "What do you need?"
"I can wait till you're done with Nick," she said, waving her hand in a vaguely 'hurry the hell up' gesture.
"You've got a date, boss?" Nick asked with a grin.
"Yeah, she's short, with blonde hair and a missing tooth," Sara retorted.
"Oh, go take some Midol," Nick threw her way.
She didn’t respond verbally, instead glaring at him with her best look. Nick’s eyebrows raised, and she saw him back off with two quick steps of retreat. “Well, Grissom, that sounds good. I’ll, uh, I’ll just talk to you in a couple days about going over this stuff.”
Gil nodded. “Sounds good. Good luck with it.”
He managed to smile as he backed out of the room. “See ya, Boss. Sara.”
“So,” Gil sighed, not bothering to look up from the file he had been scanning. “What can I do for you, Miss Sidle?”
She stepped into Grissom's office and not so much shut as slammed the door closed. "Go out with me," she said firmly.
The distractions in the hallway had made her deviate completely from the carefully planned script she had had in mind. So, simple and direct was the best way to go -- right?
Not so.
Grissom stared at her like she had grown a second head.
“Go out with you?” Gil repeated.
Sara nodded. The look in the man’s eyes made her nervous. She wasn’t sure if he was going to say yes or no, and she didn’t like it. “Y-yeah. I was thinking maybe dinner an-nd a m-movie.”
He set the file down and folded his hands on top of it, looking back at her through his glasses. “A date?”
She nodded again. “What do you think?”
"I think it's a bad idea," Grissom said, folding his hands and laying them on the desk, then leaning forward. "What to know why?"
"Duh," she replied.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because dating between coworkers who do not have a particularly strong bond of friendship doesn't work."
"So you're saying you could date Catherine but not me?" Sara replied bitterly.
"Exactly."
She said, "So what are you saying, exactly?"
"No."
The simple answer she wasn’t expecting to hear came from complicated reasoning. She frowned as she mulled his response over, the bitter flavour of the word turning her stomach. When she looked up he was writing something in his file again, busy at work as if nothing had happened. She bit her lip and sighed.
“Alright then.”
Grissom didn’t look up, until there was a knock on his door. “Come in!”
Catherine popped her head inside. “Oh, sorry, Sara. I didn’t... are two you finished?”
Sara rolled her eyes and stomped away from Grissom’s desk angrily. “Yeah. Finished. He’s all yours.”
She breezed past the older woman.
Catherine blinked in concern and didn't say anything as the brunette stalked by, exuding a poisonous mixture of bitter hostility and bitchiness. Once she was gone and out of earshot, however, it was a different story. "What the hell?" Cath mumbled. "Gris, you know what that was about?"
"Unfortunately," he replied, looking up. "What do you need?"
"Well, unfortunately, I'm stuck on Sara's attitude at the moment -- what's going on?"
"You don't need to know right now," he replied. "Do you still want me to bring over a movie and ice cream tomorrow?"
She nodded, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Yeah. Although, you know Lindsey’ll never work on her project if she knows you’re bringing a movie.”
He grinned. “The movie isn’t for her.”
Catherine’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh. So, the ice cream’s for me, too?”
“If you’re lucky,” he smirked.
She crossed the room and gripped his shoulder. “Gil Grissom. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll share the ice cream. Or else.”
He laughed. “Or else?”
“Yeah,” she pretended to sound tough and angry. “Or else.”
Gil challenged her. “Or else what?”
"Or else I'll ask Sara to ask you out," Catherine promised with a grin.
"Too late," he replied, sitting back in his chair and studying her contemplatively, waiting for her to put two and two together to make a bushel of potatoes.
"She already asked you out?"
He nodded.
Catherine bit her lip. “What did you say?”
“’No.’”
“Just like that?” She inquired. “No wonder she was so... cranky.”
“Understatement,” Gil commented. He sighed and asked: “What did you want me to say, Catherine?”
"Well... no. But maybe with a bit more pinache and understanding that you're shattering her completely!" Catherine exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air wildly.
"So in other words, you wanted me to say a provisional no, rather than a decisive no," Gil said, raising an eyebrow.
"NO!"
Gil took a breath. “Did you want her to know I’m taken?”
She shrugged. “Not quite like that. It’s not musical dating. But... involved with someone... maybe it would’ve been easier for her to know that it wasn’t all about her. You know?”
He didn’t completely understand how the female mind worked. He didn’t think he’d ever understand it. “One of those ‘if it were another time, another place’ sort of things?”
Catherine shrugged again. “Maybe. Yeah.”
“And what if she asked who I was involved with?”
“Why would she?”
“She’s a CSI, Cath,” Gil answered. “Wouldn’t she want evidence? Wouldn’t you?”
She stared at him for a long time then shook her head. "Nah -- I'd just follow you around until I found out who," she said with an impish grin.
"I know you would," he said a moment later after taking that in. "But Sara's different -- she'll..."
"Stalk you just the same as any other woman, or she'll hire a P.I."
“You think?”
“She’s a woman,” she sighed after her response. “And, pity the woman she sees you with.”
“What do you think she’ll do to her?”
“Well,” Catherine answered. “It won’t be pretty.”
He pushed his chair back from his desk and asked: “Should I be putting you in protective custody?”
Cath looked at him and grinned. "You're too cute for words," she said with a chuckle. "No, don't worry about it -- I've got a gun, and I've been taking kickboxing lessons."
"A lethal combination," he agreed. "So, what did you want when you came in?"
"To remind you that we need our cases for the night."
He smiled. “Oh, right. I completely forgot. You’re with me, by the way.”
“Why?”
Gil picked up the assignment slip up and read off the paper: “’Blood pool on floor, splatter and smudges along north wall. No body.’”
She smiled. “That’s my kind of case. Think it’s safe for us to be working together?”
He stood up, reaching for his coat that was draped over another chair near by. She took the papers out of his hand, their fingers brushing briefly. His eyes darkened, making her smile stretch. “I, uh, think so. As long as Sara doesn’t suspect that we’re—”
“I didn’t mean that kind of safe,” she interrupted him, moving so she was immediately in front of him. Grissom gasped when her free hand snaked out between them and rested on his chest.
Gil managed to speak. “If you want your ice cream, you’ll keep those hands of yours to yourself.”
She frowned and spoke with a playful tone in her voice. “You’re no fun.”
“Oh,” he smiled when she stepped back. “I’m plenty of fun and you know it.” She grinned. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Why don’t you go drop those off and meet me at the Tahoe?”
"Yes, sir!" She said with a jaunty salute and a wink as she hustled out the door.
She found everyone in the lounge, bitching about the sludge that the day shift called coffee. "I come bearing assignments," Cath said, holding them up to her forehead. "I sense that Warrick is going to the 'burbs to check on a dead cat."
"A dead cat?" Warrick repeated, snatching the paper from her. "I'm supposed to figure out if someone fed a victim to a tabby cat?!"
"I didn't pick 'em, I just deliver 'em," Cath replied.
"And as for you two, you've got a db at the Luxor -- they think it might be accidental, but we think it's murder," she finished, handing Nick and Sara their slip.
"And what, you and Grissom are working on --" Nick started.
"A vanishing db," Cath replied.
"Oh, yeah, and he gives us shit like this?" Sara huffed.
Catherine sighed and crossed her arms. “You know what. I’d be thankful to have a relatively easy one. You can finish up, and go out with... Hank, right?”
She crossed her arms. “Whatever.”
The strawberry-blonde sent a sympathetic glance Nick’s way and then wished them luck before heading out of the room, and then the building.
Gil was waiting by his Tahoe, their kits in both of his hands. "Help me with the door, will ya?" He asked, gesturing that his key ring was in his pocket.
"Sure," Cath said, jogging over and fishing in his pocket. She wasn't aware that Sara was staring at them from across the parking lot.
"Hey, careful -- that's not the key ring," Gil scolded with a grin.
"Who said it was?" Cath replied, triumphantly holding up the key ring.
She stood there, grinning back at him, keys dangling from her fingers. He sighed and broke his trance with her. “They’re getting heavy, Cath.”
“Oh,” she said, moving towards the front door, the proper key in her hand. She paused after sliding it into the lock, before turning it, and faced him. “Gotta pay the toll.”
“Catherine Willows. I thought I told you...”
“You told me to keep my hands to myself,” she told him with a devilish look in her blue eyes. “This is an exchange of goods. I want a kiss. You want the door open.”
"We're on the clock and there's blood spatter --"
"So you'd better kiss me quick," she prompted with a grin.
He scowled, then leaned in to peck her on the cheek. "More later," he promised.
Catherine pretended to look upset, but the promise of things to come was too enticing for her. Her eyes sparkled as her cheeks flushed. “I’m holding you to it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”
"If you do, I'll just have to forget where I laid that pink nightie you like so much," Catherine promised as she took her kit from his grasp and went to the passenger side of the Tahoe. "So -- where do you think the body went?" She asked as they buckled up.
"Anywhere but where it was supposed to," he replied, looking a little glum.
"What's the matter? Need a hand job?" Cath asked with a grin.
His eyes widened. “Cath!” He backed the car out of it’s spot, and started to drive towards the exit of the parking lot. “We, ah, we’re on the clock.”
“Multi-tasking, Gil,” she responded, her voice lower than usual. “What do you say?”
"I say I think you're crazy," Gil choked out as he turned over the engine.
"But am I?" She replied, letting her hand drift...
He inhaled sharply. "Car, Cath."
"Chinos, Gil -- I know you keep an extra pair under the back seat.”
He kept his eyes on the road and muttered sarcastically: “That’s the last time I tell you anything.” Her drifting hand became more insistent, applying more pressure than before. He inhaled quickly as she slipped a finger along the zipper fly, not opening it but just testing him. “God, Cath.”
She chuckled.
"It isn't funny," he grunted, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes on the road and not in his lap.
"Oh, but it is," she replied, licking her lips and smiling.
"You were made to torture me, weren't you? That's your sole purpose for being on the earth..."
She gently pushed on the zipper and smiled. "But of course..."
As she tugged the zipper down, his hips bucked a little. He gripped the steering wheel and hardened his resolve to keep his eyes on the road, but his other resolve was harder and he knew it would be difficult. She popped the button on his pants open, and let her hand slide inside. He groaned as her hand tightened.
“My dear,” he tried one last time. “Can’t this wait until later?”
She let her other hand play with the soft skin under his chin. “Your body certainly doesn’t want to wait until later.”
"Yeah, okay, I'll admit that," he croaked. "But I'm trying to drive!"
Her grip tightened and she smiled as he bit his lip.
"So pull over," she whispered.
"I can't -- we're on the way to a ..."
"Crime scene," she finished for him with a tsking noise in the back of her throat. "Get over it -- you need to learn to loosen up. Now, pull into that Starbucks lot."
He did as she asked, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay on the road if she kept her handiwork up. He parked far from the stray cars near the front of the building, praying that they wouldn’t get disturbed.
The instant he slid the car into park, she unfastened his seat belt with quick fingers and returned to the task at hand. Gil closed his eyes and rolled his head back against the headrest. “We’re going to be late.”
“Well worth it,” she reasoned. When he felt her breath on his burning skin, he jumped. She chuckled. “Easy, Gil.”
"You said a hand job, not a --"
"Oh, relax would you?" She said with an exasperated sigh that almost sent him to heaven -- and she hadn't even touched him.
"I'm relaxed, I'm -- not relaxed," he grunted as he felt her lips against him.
She chuckled, the vibrations sending shocks through his system. His hips tensed upwards before he could control the reaction. Her warmth engulfed him; he moaned and writhed under her. When she lifted her head and started licking at him, he tried not to twist too much underneath her, but he knew it would be hard to control his reactions.
Before he knew it, one of his hands was in her hair, tangled in the light tresses. His soft groans and moans turned into words and sentence fragments that didn’t make any sense.
And suddenly, it was over in a white-hot sensation that made his insides shake and the insides of his eyes burn bright. He began to breathe again, and didn't open his eyes till she said, "Now we can worry about being late."
"You drive me insane," he muttered, opening his eyes and shaking his head.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she teased.
After he cleaned himself up, he glanced over at her. She put a hand up. “Don’t even think about it. We’re going to be late, remember?”
“How come that didn’t work for me?” She grinned and settled back into her seat. He chuckled, but reached for her hand, kissing its palm. She shuddered. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Maybe on the way back?” She asked hopefully.
“Maybe,” he smiled. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. Then, he put the car in drive and headed out through the nearest exit.
~*~
"So, look at this drag," Catherine said, gesturing at the floor. "The smear looks like a person, severely wounded, just dragged themselves over to here --" She pointed to a spot where the blood disappeared, except for a faint dripping trail. "And got to their feet somehow -- but where's the object they used to get up?"
“Maybe they took it with them?” He said, tucking a sealed bindle in his kit after labeling it. He watched Catherine move across the room, to where the counter met the wall. “What are you looking at?”
She crouched down and shone her light into the gap. “Aha.”
“Cath?”
After snapping a couple pictures, she pulled out a long knife that was coated in blood. “I wonder what this was used for?”
“Possible murder weapon.”
She sighed. “Reserved judgment. Right.”
He handed her a couple of swabs. “Here. We won’t know more unless the blood matches what’s here.”
“Did you find anything else over there?”
"A few fibers that might be torn flannel -- a shirt, maybe? And a button, marbled plastic, with some thread still attached." Gil grunted as he knelt over some of the blood and reached for something. "And this."
"What's 'this'?" Cath asked, coming over.
"I'm not sure."
She watched Gil tuck it into a bag and seal it, as neither of them could decide what to make of it. “Think that’s it?”
“Yeah,” he answered while looking around the scene. “I think so. We should take all of this back to the lab.”
They left together, carrying their kits and evidence with them to the Tahoe. Gil was about to hand Catherine the keys, but she shook her head. “Oh, no, you’re still driving.”
“But...”
“We’re going to stop,” she said with a sexy grin that made his insides curl. “What I want is going to require a back seat.”
"Can't we wait another hour and a half and use a bed?" Gil asked hopefully.
"I don't think so," she replied with a smirk.
"Damn," he muttered. "I wanted to get this back to the lab and --"
She sighed and smacked him. "We'll go back to the lab, but then we're going somewhere with a bed and champagne."
~*~
Catherine grinned as Gil opened the door to his townhouse. He set the bottle of champagne down, and flicked on a couple lights. He turned around and looked at her. “Is this going to cancel our date tomorrow?”
“Do you want it to cancel our date tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “The more I get to see you---” she smiled as he took a step to her “---the better.”
“And you say you’re not a people person,” Catherine said softly as he wrapped his arms around her. She shivered when he kissed her neck. When his phone started to ring, she groaned and pulled back. “You answer that, I’ll put this---” she pointed to the bottle of champagne she had been promised earlier “---on ice.”
He kissed her once, and then answered his phone. “Grissom.”
"Hey, Boss -- it's me," came Sara's voice. "I've got a question."
"Make it quick," Gil said as he watched Catherine saunter out of the room.
"There was ergot present at our crime scene -- do you think it was LSD-type or a more natural kind?"
Gil groaned. "Sara, I can't tell you without having a look at the chemical breakdown on the samples -- ask Greg."
"Greg is an idiot -- he doesn't even know what ergot *is*."
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A natural strain will produce a delayed reaction, whereas LSD-strains will react immediately. Have you considered that it might be a synthetic strain?"
“No,” she replied. “I hadn’t. Would you be able to come down and give us your opinion on the stra—”
Catherine had returned to him, her hands on his back were moving in slow circles. He shook his head, as he tried to get his lungs working again. “No, Sara, I can’t. I’m off for the night.”
“But—”
He felt tiny pangs of guilt for being so abrupt with her, especially after his conversation with Catherine earlier, so he quickly added: “If you can’t get it, I’ll try to when I’m back on the clock.”
“But,” she managed to utter before he ended the conversation, “You’re not coming in tomorrow!”
He chuckled. “Exactly. Good night.” One finger on the proper button, and the phone was off. He turned and picked Catherine up in his arms. “Where were we?”
"Well, that depends on who that was," Catherine purred, nibbling upon his earlobe.
"You don't want to know," he groaned as he carried her to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed.
When she landed, bouncing slightly with the mattress, she grinned. “I’ll ask later.” Her hands reached for her shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. He tried to stop her, but she shook her head and then reached for his shirt. Once lying on the bed next to her, their lips met again. Her hands kneaded his weary back muscles, while pushing him against her so that they were as close as possible.
He showered kisses across her cheek and chin, avoiding her lips purposely until she wouldn’t let him anymore. She sighed and put a finger to his mouth, pausing their kisses. “I love you.”
Gil nuzzled her. “I love you, too.”
When they heard the annoying ring, Catherine’s expression clouded. “I thought you turned it off.”
“I did,” he said after kissing her forehead and browbone. “It’s yours. You brought it up here, remember?”
She cursed softly, making him laugh as she rolled away from him to pick it up off the bedside table. “Willows.”
Gil’s lips between her shoulder blades made her shiver. The voice on the other end of the phone, however, made her shudder. “Hey, Catherine, it’s Sara... do you know anything about ergot?”
His lips had traveled lower, running just above the waistline of her low rise pants. She fought the urge to moan, and knew she had to get out of that conversation. “Nope, sorry, nothing about ergot.”
She, too, turned her phone off and tossed it onto the table before turning back to Gil.
"Do you know anything about ergot?" Gil asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Only that it's a fungus, and it's in your migraine medicine," Catherine replied with a grin. "I read up on the ingredients when you told me about the pills."
"Mother hen," Gil growled, lunging at her and making her laugh as he kissed her sides, tickling her in the process. "I love you, you know."
"I know," she murmured.
When he stopped tickling her, their eyes met as he lifted his head. She smiled and put her index finger on his lips, tracing their pout lightly. Gil drew her finger into his mouth, gently lapping with his tongue, which only drove her closer to madness.
“I can’t wait anymore.”
“Good,” he smiled, as he descended to press his lips against hers.
"I want you," Catherine moaned through his kiss.
"I need you," was his reply.
She pulled back and smiled. "Then what are we waiting for?"
“I don’t know,” he grinned. Sometimes their roundabout way of getting to the destination was more of an appealing adventure, but he didn’t want to play anymore. He helped her out of her pants as she helped him, each set of hands carefully removing fabric and teasing uncovered skin.
"Slow and tender, or hard and fast?" Catherine asked in a teasingly little girlish voice.
"Whatever appeals to you," he replied automatically.
"Well, dear, if you're still talking in complete sentences now, I think hard and fast will make it worth your while," she purred, leaning forward to capture his lips in a searing kiss that branded him right down to the soul.
They found themselves quite tangled up in each other, by the time they had rolled around the bed a couple of times, experimenting in positions to deepen the kiss.
Finally, with Gil rolled onto his back, Catherine moved over him and sank down. She gasped as he filled her, as he moved within her; there were no words for her to describe how she felt.
His hands on her hips helped guide her, even though she could recall the way quite well on her own; with each passing second, their movements increased in speed.
Catherine's breathing became erratic panting, and Gil thought it was the most erotic sound imaginable. He knew he was breathing none too steadily himself, but he didn't think he was quite as close as she was to losing control.
"God, Gil..." She moaned, leaning forward to brand him again with that burning kiss that made his nerve endings tingle in anticipation.
He let one hand travel over her body, teasing various hotspots that he could reach. She leaned back, still rocking with him, her head tilting as she let out a low purr. When his hand slid lower, she trembled; he felt her tense up around him and he waited for the amazing display of fireworks that was to come.
There were no words, but greedy hands that was shaking as the rest of her body did. Her mouth opened, but there was no sound right away. Her eyes closed and then opened. Her cheeks flushed.
She shrieked his name and managed to move through the contractions that wracked her body.
All of this pushed Gil over the edge. He gripped her and barely managed to form a coherent phrase. She could turn him into a babbling idiot at times like this; but, he loved that she could do that.
She slumped forward, drained, and moaned softly as her lips found his flesh, offering him a gently tender kiss that signaled the end of her energy. He knew she would soon drift off to sleep, but first she would want a cuddle, so he carefully slid out of her with a wet slopping noise that made him wince. He encircled her within his embrace and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he whispered.
"Mmm... love you, too," she agreed with a smile.
"Cath..."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing."
"What?" She asked, bracing herself up on her arm so she could look down at him.
"I just -- well, it's kind of corny," he admitted.
"What is?"
"I just wanted to know you were really there," he said, flushing.
She smiled, genuinely touched and surprised by him sometimes. “I was really there,” she lowered her face so she could kiss the sensitive spot under his jaw. “I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.” She smirked and laughed at her words. “Well, at least not for the next couple of hours.”
"Good," Gil said softly. He fell silent, just looking at her, wondering at the serenity that fell over her features as she neared sleep.
"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" She asked, yawning.
"Nothing important," he replied, kissing the tip of her nose. "And you?"
"I was thinking about Sara."
He looked alarmed. "Why?"
"Well, she obviously has a thing for you, and it's going to be best if you nip it in the bud," Cath replied as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.
Gil lay there, cradling the woman he loved with all his heart, looking down at her with a puzzled look on his face. How she could sleep like that in the middle of a conversation like that boggled his mind. He shrugged it off with a small smile and curled closer into her; he decided that he would try to approach Sara in a couple of days. As sleep took hold of his busy mind, he decided that the only woman he would focus his energies on for the next couple of days would be the one in his arms.
The Bitter Butter Battle
"Oh, that's gross!" Lindsey cried as she watched Gil lift a greasy sunblock fingerprint off the living room wall.
"Yes, but it gives you a good lesson in how to remove non-stationary fingerprints," he replied, smiling over his shoulder at the blonde-haired girl with her missing tooth and big blue eyes. At nine, Lindsey was the closest thing he had to a child of his own, and he'd never admit it, but he adored her.
"It's still nasty," Lindsey muttered, coming over with the fingerprint kit that her mother had loaned to her for the day. "So, I toss this stuff at the wall and it makes the print solid -- solidi--"
"Solidify," Gil said gently.
"Solidify," Lindsey repeated, "so I can lift it?"
“Sure,” he smiled. He glanced over her head and saw Catherine standing in the doorway. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes sparkling as she watched the scene in front of her. He spoke to Lindsey again: “Just take some of that and throw it at the print.”
She picked some of the powder in her hand, but frowned and paused. “Will Mommy be mad if I make a mess?”
Catherine cleared her throat. “This is educational, so I suppose I’ll let it slide.”
"I'll clean it up," Lindsey promised, tossing the powder at the wall and getting more on the carpet than the wall. "Ooops," she whispered.
"It's okay," Gil said. "Want me to help?"
"Okay," she replied, gritting her teeth in determined frustration as he helped her get the powder to the wall without getting as much on the floor. "There."
"Now, lift the print," Gil instructed.
Both adults watched in fascination as Lindsey carefully applied the lifting tape to the wall and lifted the print, sealing the tape against the plastic sheet attached to it. She held it up and asked: “Did I do it right?”
Gil smiled and nodded reassuringly. “You’re a fine CSI in the making.”
She grinned. “Mom! Look!”
Catherine neared them and crouched down next to her daughter and Gil to examine the print Lindsey lifted. “It’s perfect.” She kissed her cheek after praising her. “That one even looks better than some of mine.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Gil added with a serious face that betrayed his laughing eyes and tone of voice. “I’ve seen some of them. Just a mess.” He leaned behind the giggling Lindsey and kissed Catherine’s temple gently, making the woman sigh contentedly.
"So, do you think I'll be able to write my project, now, Uncle Grissom?" Lindsey asked with a big grin.
"You could have done it without the sunblock prints, but yeah," he agreed.
"Cool!" Lindsey crowed. "Mom, what's for lunch? I'm hungry," she complained a moment later.
"Well, I thought we'd have tuna sandwiches and pasta salad," Catherine said. "And maybe popsicles for dessert."
"Sounds good," Gil said with a smile.
"Yum," Lindsey said, grabbing a kleenex and wiping down the wall. She ran into the front hall to get the dust buster out of the closet, leaving Gil and Catherine with a momentary break.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey yourself -- what time does she go to bed?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"About the time hell freezes over," she replied with a laugh as Lindsey bounded back into the room and sucked up the starch mess with the dust buster.
"Hey, kiddo -- your mom and I are gonna take a nap after lunch," Grissom said.
"Okay," Lindsey said, her brow creasing. "Are you two going to have sex?"
Gil’s eyes shot to Catherine’s; while he loved Lindsey as if she were his own, she wasn’t, and he didn’t think he was qualified to answer such a heavy question.
“What ever gave you that idea, Baby?” Catherine’s strategy was admirable.
The young girl shrugged. “Jake said he heard his parents... ah... once, and he was telling us about it.”
Catherine glanced at Gil; she didn’t look entirely impressed. In one smooth movement, she scooped Lindsey up and sat on the sofa. Gil sat on the other side, wanting to encompass the girl with those that loved her. “When people make love, or have sex, as you called it,” she started. “Most people do it for the right reasons.”
“Which are?”
“For love,” her mother answered. “It’s what two people do when they fall in love and have been together and committed to each other. When it feels right,” she said.
Lindsey nodded, taking in what her mother was telling her. Gil was fascinated. “You and Gil love each other, right?”
Gil nodded. “Very much. We also love you.”
“I know,” she said in her pensive voice. Then, she wrinkled her nose. “I think it sounds kind of gross.”
Catherine smiled. “I hope you think that for a long time.”
Gil supressed a chuckle. Catherine yawned. “I really am tired, though.”
He tried to move through the awkward moment. “How about you and I go make some sandwiches?”
“Mom? Maybe you should go get ready for bed while Gil and I make lunch. Then, you’ll be all ready for your nap.”
Catherine shook her head and chuckled. "I'd rather eat lunch with my two favorite people," she said softly, putting her arm around Lindsey and hugging her. "And then take a nap. By the way, your project is gonna rock."
"Cool," Lindsey said, bounding off into the kitchen.
"Nice save," Gil said softly.
"Yeah, well, I want a nap because you kept me up most of the early hours," Catherine said with a smirk. "Can we call in sick tomorrow or what?"
"No -- I have to face Sara's questions about ergot," Gil muttered, rubbing his eyes in weary dismay. He wasn't looking forward to that at all.
"Why can't she just go look it up on the internet?" Cath asked, huffing a little.
"Are you guys coming or what?" Lindsey yelled.
Gil raised an eyebrow in Catherine’s direction. “Awfully demanding, don’t you think?”
“She takes after me,” she grinned.
He nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’d believe that.”
Catherine laughed and tossed her head back as they made their way into the kitchen.
Lindsey looked up guiltily from the tuna salad mess that had accidentally appeared on the floor. "Um..." She began quietly.
"She gets her klutziness from Eddie," Catherine muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Clean it up," she snapped, gesturing at the paper towels.
"Yes, mom," Lindsey whispered, getting a handful of towels and scrubbing the floor. "I'm gonna take my sandwich outside and play a while before I start working, okay?"
"Yes," Catherine said in a terse tone.
Sensing how tense she had gotten in such a short amount of time, Gil came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She gasped softly and leaned into him. “Are you alright?”
"I was thinking and I didn't like what I was thinking about," Catherine whispered.
"What were you thinking about?"
"Sara and ergot," Cath muttered. "And Lindsey spilled tuna everywhere and -- I don't know." She sighed heavily.
Gil nuzzled her shoulder gently, pressing his lips against her skin. “Well, the tuna can be cleaned up. So, that problem’s fixed.” She nodded and sighed when his lips traveled to the nape of her neck. “As for Sara and her precious ergot, well, I’ll go into work and identify it, and maybe then she’ll go away.”
Catherine chuckled bitterly. “If only it was that simple.”
“It’s simple to me,” he nipped at her earlobe. “There’s no way she could charm me with talk of ergot. She couldn’t charm me with anything. I---” he sucked on the skin underneath her ear; she trembled “---love you.”
“But—”
"But nothing," he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe and making her moan. The back door slammed shut, snapping Cath out of her moment of sensual weakness.
"Oh shit -- she walked right by the door," she mumbled, stricken. "What if she'd --"
"Then we tell the truth," Gil said softly. "Want to skip lunch and get a little exercise in before that nap of yours?"
“Mmmm...” she moaned as his hand expanded over her stomach. “Only a little though.”
“Well, then, we’ll have to make it count.” He turned them in the direction of the bedroom, and together they walked down the hall, after pausing in front of one of the windows that overlooked the yard to check to make sure Lindsey was alright. She was eating while swinging on a swing, looking out across the yard. “You two can talk it out when you wake up,” he assured her as she followed him into the next room, shutting the door behind them.
She smiled softly and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. "Sounds like a plan," she agreed.
"Cath -- I want to ask you something," Gil said, taking a deep breath.
"Sounds serious," she said in a smilingly gentle tone as she unbuttoned his shirt.
"It is... and I'm not sure how to say it..."
"You'd better not be breaking up with me," she said sharply.
"No -- I... well, since Eddie died, you and Linds have been..."
"You'd better not be offering to play mediator," Catherine growled.
"No -- no... will you marry me?"
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. He produced a tiny box from somewhere and held it in front of her, open. A perfect ring sparkled up at her, as her eyes sparkled with tears. “Gil, baby?”
“I want to be your husband. I want to help raise your daughter, I want to be able to love you unconditionally without hiding, I want...” he sighed. “I want it all with you.” He looked concerned when she wiped her tears off of her cheeks. “If you could say something... I’d really appreciate it, Cath.”
“How soon can we do it?”
“Do what?” She rolled her eyes and laughed nervously. He blushed. “Oh... you mean... was that a yes?”
She bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah -- I love y ou and I don't ever want to have to watch you go off to your townhouse that's sealed off from the rest of the world," she confessed. "But the spiders stay at the office," she stipulated.
Gil whooped, a noise that was completely uncharacteristic for him, and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around the room.
When they settled, he brought a hand up and caressed her face. Sweetly, he kissed her. Then, he pulled back and held the box up. She stepped back a bit and held her hand out; as he slid the ring onto her finger, she trembled, fully realizing how significant this moment was for them.
“Catherine Grissom,” she smiled. “I really like the sound of that.”
“Me, too,” he agreed before leaning in to kiss her again.
They made it to the bed, undressing each other in swift motions that belied how they wanted to savor the moment...
Catherine moaned as the phone rang, breaking their concentration. "Fuck," she muttered.
"Yes, please," Gil quipped, turning her gently back to him and kissing her as the phone continued to ring.
"MOM!" Lindsey yelled from downstairs. "It's for you!"
"Take -- a -- message," Catherine shouted back, breathless as Gil began to explore her breasts.
"It's Uncle Nick," Lindsey whined.
This time, it was Gil who muttered, "Fuck."
“At least it’s not Sara,” he added softly, as an afterthought, as Catherine yelled back that she would pick up the extension in a couple seconds. She frowned and looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes for a second time, for a different reason. He kissed her chastely. “Just ask him if you can call him back.”
She nodded. “I’ll try.” As he pressed his lips to her stomach, she nudged him off as she reached for the phone. “You’ll give us away,” she scolded uselessly. She turned the extension on, and spoke into it: “Hello?”
“Hey, Cath, I’m really sorry to call you now...”
"What's the matter?" Catherine asked, rolling her eyes as she swatted Gil away.
"There's a kid involved in our case, and until CPS can process her, we need someone to watch her --" Nick said helplessly. "I've been trying to call Grissom forever, but he's not picking up the phone."
"He's here," Catherine said, raising her eyebrows. "He's tutoring Lindsey -- how long did CPS say they'd be?"
"They've had an influx of kids," Nick grumbled. "They won't be able to process her till morning."
Catherine sighed and stifled a groan. "Give me about an hour, okay?"
Before Nick could respond, Gil snatched the phone out of her hand and turned it off. “Hey!”
He didn’t respond vocally, only latching his mouth onto one of her breasts. Her frustration slowly ebbed away as he traveled left to right, and then right to left, alternating with a series of techniques she loved.
"God, Gil," she babbled as heat coursed through her, making her weak. "Nick's --"
"Don't say anyone else's name when I'm making love to you," Gil growled, nipping at her nipple and making her yelp in pleasure. "You know I hate that."
"I do," she gasped, reaching for him, but he restrained her wrists with his hand. "Gil!"
"Do not touch," he growled possessively as he kissed his way down her body, releasing her wrists.
"Oh, so we're playing kinky," she said, gasping as he laved her inner thigh with kisses.
When his mouth traveled slightly upwards, she found it hard to resist the urge to touch him. So hard, in fact, she had to grip the headboard to keep her hands where he wanted them.
“Gil, please... I just want to touch...” She sighed softly, begging because he was working very hard at building her up without a release.
“Not until I say so.”
"You're driving me crazy," she panted, lifting her hips and groaning as he nibbled the soft flesh around her clit.
"Your point being what?" He challenged, his lips slipping onto her clit and making her buck.
"Oh God," she panted.
He stopped and looked up at her. “Oh what?”
She looked at him, temporarily dazed. Using a finger instead of his mouth, he traced a simple circle where his lips used to be. “Oh!” Her hips lifted again. Since he didn’t get the answer he wanted, he slowed down his circles. She tried to create her own friction but that only made him slow down even more.
Finally, it clicked. “Gil!” She almost yelped his name.
He chuckled. “Much better.”
"You're... in a... mood," she panted as he began tracing circles again, this time quickly bringing her to the edge and over again.
She lay dazed beneath him, eyes glazed with passion as she tried to regain her breath. "Can I touch now?" She pleaded.
“Where would you like to touch me?”
Catherine snorted. “Anywhere, everywhere. I want to feel you, not this wooden board.”
He smiled and slid up her body, placing feather light kisses along her stomach. He paused to ask: “Promise you won’t say anyone else’s name when we’re making love?”
“Even if they’re standing in the doorway,” she vowed.
"Good," Gil murmured, gently stroking her hips with his fingertips. He held her steady as he slid into her, while she played with the muscles of his chest, reveling in their strength and texture...
"Oh..." She moaned as the pace increased. She looked over Gil's shoulder and gasped, "Lindsey!"
The little girl stood in the doorway, eyes wide.
Gil bit down on Catherine’s breast and then said: “I thought I made myself clear.”
Her eyes widened. “Gil, I... Gil...” she struggled to make her voice work. Lindsey looked back at them, a mixture of emotions and thoughts written plainly on her face. Catherine’s stomach flopped, the mood between her and Gil completely killed. “She’s really there.”
At first he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he reached for the comforter and managed to pull it around them somewhat awkwardly. When they separated, he glanced at the young girl, who looked like she was about to cry. Catherine made sure she was adequately covered, while Gil struggled to feel less awful.
Lindsey stood there, biting her lip and looking pathetically out of place, and then she made a noise and turned on her heel, stalking away in a rage that made def-con 4 look good.
"Shit," Catherine muttered, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Fuck. This is not good -- this is definitely not goo-- Gil, what are we going to do?"
"You're the parent -- I have no idea," he said as the sound of a door slamming downstairs shook the house.
"Yeah, throw that back in my face," she snapped.
Gil frowned, and knew that he had to handle this better. In attempts to fix the entire situation, he put a hand on her back and asked: “Do you want me to talk to her?”
She looked up at him, worry lining her features. “And what will you say?”
"I'll say that I love you and I love her and we're getting married," Gil said after a moment's thought.
"Which will make her angry because I'm supposed to love Eddie, still," Cath groaned. "Just -- go take a shower or something."
“You sure you don’t want any help?”
She shook her head. “No, but thanks. I should’ve handled this better earlier. You go get cleaned up, tuck yourself in bed, take a nap. I’m going to go have a talk with my daughter.” She shook her head and laughed bitterly, “If you’re not too busy, wanna calculate how much therapy for her will cost after what she saw in here?”
"More than the birthday trip I'm now planning for her -- Disneyland," Gil said with an arched eyebrow.
"Shithead," Cath muttered under her breath. "You can't just buy her off -- she's smarter than that."
"I know, but something like that helps a little, right?"
"You'd better not get me pregnant, because you're gonna be a crazy father," Cath said, shaking her finger at him as she finished pulling on her clothes.
“I will not be a crazy father,” he defended as he reached for his pants and started to dress. “Just because I haven’t been doing it for years, doesn’t mean I won’t catch on quickly...”
She smiled and tousled his hair. “I know. You’re doing great so far.”
"Then why did you say I was --"
"I wanted to make you realize that you are not in control of the situation in any way, shape, or form," Cath said, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Well, it's time to face the music, eh?"
“Yep,” he said, reaching for and squeezing his hand. “I’ll be here, if you need me.”
“Thanks,” she responded, slipping from him and moving to the door. She left the safety of her bedroom and headed immediately to the swing set, where she knew Lindsey would go.
"Leave me alone," Lindsey muttered as Cath took it upon herself ot sit on the empty swing and start swinging in that crazy adult manner that drives all children to madness.
"We need to talk," Catherine began.
"No, *we* don't," Lindsey snapped sullenly.
“Yes, *we* do,” she asserted. “It wasn’t fair to you, walking in on Gil and I like that, seeing us like that... I want you to know that we didn’t mean for that to happen, and—” she paused and took a deep breath, before gathering her jumbled thoughts and continuing: “We hurt you, and I’m really sorry about that.”
Lindsey looked up at her mother. “That wasn’t sleeping.”
Cath bit her lip and nodded. "I know, honey... and, well, I'm sorry."
"You hated dad, didn't you?"
"No -- no, I didn't hate him. When he died, I didn't love him anymore, but I didn't hate him either. I don't expect you to understand --"
"Why are you doing that with Uncle Gil?" Lindsey snapped. "That's gross and -- ew."
"Well..." Catherine hesitated.
“Well, what?”
“Well, it’s something you do with the person you love. And your father and I had our share of moments... but the love disappeared. I didn’t think I’d love anybody ever again... didn’t think there’d be anyone else that could take care of us.” Lindsey looked up, surprise registering in her eyes, even though she tried to conceal it. “I would never have been able to remotely enjoy someone who couldn’t make you a priority.” She reached up and brushed her hand through Lindsey’s hair. “Gil does... he wants to be there for you, not replacing your father, because he knows how important your dad is, but he wants to be there in any way you’ll let him.”
“But, what does that... have to do with—”
“I’m getting there,” she managed to smile and raise her eyebrows, wondering when her daughter got to be so to the point and demanding. “Doing *that* with Gil is a way for us to express our love. It’s not about trying to forget about your dad in any way. Neither of us would want you to do that. It’s just about being as close as we can possibly be.”
“Oh.”
“And I promise you’ll never walk in on that again.”
Lindsey wrinkled her nose. "Yeah? Good. Now I'm gonna have to go boil my eyes," she quipped in a wry tone that made Catherine burst into laughter. "It isn't funny," the girl said in a disgusted tone that made it all the funnier.
"Hey, you two want something to eat?" Gil called from the sliding porch door. He had gotten redressed in a manner of speaking, and Lindsey gaped at him.
"Trying to buy us off?" Catherine called back with a chuckle.
"Exactly -- and if no one protests, I was thinking ice cream for dessert?” Gil prompted.
“How about we just go for ice cream?” Lindsey asked, definitely feeling a little better, Catherine gathered from her huge and very hopeful smile. “To that new place?”
Gil nodded. “Sure. My treat. Catherine, what do you think?”
"I think that it was a bribe, but I'm willing to get behind it just this once -- provided I get a two-scoop of coffee with caramel, mocha sprinkles, and whipped cream," Catherine added. "Let me get some shoes on."
"I should probably get the rest of my clothes on," Gil said, looking down.
"Yeah," Lindsey agreed.
“What?” Gil grinned at the girl. “You mean that Las Vegas doesn’t want to see my muscles?”
The small blonde approached and poked his stomach. “What muscles?”
Catherine groaned softly. “Sweetie, you should never insult a guy’s manliness.”
“But, I was just—”
“Besides,” Gil tried to defend himself. “I wasn’t flexing.”
Lindsey gave him a doubtful look, then said, "If you marry Mom, you'd better wear a shirt around here, or I'll need therapy like Jennie."
“I promise,” he said, picking her up and ungracefully hoisting her up onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She shrieked. “Kids your age need therapy?”
She nodded, wriggling in his arms. “Happens every day.”
Catherine reached up and freed her daughter from Gil’s grasp, and settled her onto her feet. After she kissed the top of her head, she said: “You go get washed up, and we’ll meet you at the front door.”
Lindsey nodded. Before she left the patio, she turned and ordered: “No kissing.”
"No kissing," Catherine agreed. When she turned and caught the disappointed look on his face, she sighed. "Well, what was I supposed to say?"
"You're the mother -- put your foot down," Gil whined.
"Oh, go get your shirt on," she muttered.
He stopped and wrapped his arms around her body, pulling him to her. She was about to protest, but he told her: “It’s a hug. No kissing.”
“If you don’t let go of me, I’ll seriously consider kissing you, and then I’d be in trouble with my daughter again, and I really don’t want to go there again.”
He sighed and squeezed her before releasing her. “Good point. Let’s go.”
~*~
"So, what do you two do besides kiss and... the other thing?" Lindsey asked, making Catherine choke on a mouthful of her sundae and making Gil cough so hard that milkshake flew out his nose.
Catherine looked at the sight of Gil snorting milkshake and lost it -- she was laughing so hard that she was crying, and even Lindsey thought it was hysterically funny.
"We do lots," Gil said defensively once things were again under control.
“Like?”
Catherine wiped the tears off her cheeks, and spoke with a grin that she thought would split her face into pieces. “Well, we go to movies together. He took me dancing a couple of times,” she sighed. “That was really fun.”
“We’ll go for walks,” Gil added. “Coffee and long talks on rainy nights,” his gaze met Catherine’s; they smiled at each other. “But, you know what my favorite thing to do is?”
“Nope,” she shook her head. “What?”
He answered sincerely: “Doing everyday, normal things around the house with both of you.”
Lindsey stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "You're just a freak," she said, giggling as the cherry on her ice cream slid down the side of the pile.
"Yeah, but he's my freak," Catherine said defensively.
"Are you guys getting married?" Lindsey asked.
“Actually,” Gil started to respond before Catherine got to the question. “I had asked her to marry me. But, I should really check with you before she gets back to me, shouldn’t I?”
Lindsey nodded, contemplating a spoonful of her gooey delight. “Yeah, you really should.”
“What do you think about the idea of my marrying your mother?”
She looked up at him and replied honestly, "I don't know -- I think I need some time to think about it."
"That's fine," he assured her.
"Are you gonna be coming over more now?" Lindsey asked, contemplating something.
"I sure am."
“So you’ll be around to cook, and to help me with my homework and stuff?”
He nodded. “Yep, as long as you want me around.”
She studied him for a long time, then turned her attention back to her ice cream and ignored both adults at the table.
~*~
Catherine came striding down the hall toward Grissom's office the next day, hair perfectly coifed, clothes immaculate as ever...
Sara stopped her. "Hey, no thanks to you, we cracked the case."
"Well, I'm sorry that I couldn't cooperate with your agenda, Sara, but I had other things occupying my brain," Catherine said.
She continued walking, shaking herself free of the negative energy, despite Sara calling out behind her. She walked into Gil’s office and slammed the door shut. He looked up from his paperwork, eyes a little wider than usual when he heard the loud noise. “I’m glad I’ve got your attention.”
Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. Gil raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to open it.
Cath shook her head, eyes grave.
"Open it," he said quietly.
She opened the door and stepped aside so Sara could come in. "You know, this place is a little gloomy," Sara commented. "It needs a woman's touch."
"It's *my* office," Gil pointed out.
Sara shrugged. “I know. I’m just saying. It’s gloomy.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “Did you want something, Sara? Gil and I were talking about something. And,” she added. “It’s important.”
"Yeah," Sara said, thrusting a folder at Gil. "This is the last of the paperwork for the ergot case. And I'll take my new case and leave you two alone to discuss whatever it was that was so damn important."
“Thank you,” Gil managed to smile, even though it felt fake and awkward. He picked up a slip of paper off of his desk. “Here’s your next case. Good luck, even though I’m sure you’ll do as fine as you did on the last one.” He thought he saw her face relax, but he wasn’t sure. “I knew that you didn’t need me to solve it, that you’d get it eventually on your own.”
She huffed, stomping towards him to grab the assignment.
"You know, Sara, there are a lot of herbal remedies that might help with your PMS," Catherine said gently from the door.
She wasn't expecting Sara to come over and hit her, but as fist connected with cheekbone and stars whirled, Catherine slid to the floor.
Gil gasped, as shocked as Catherine had been. Sara smiled smugly. “You know, I do feel a lot better. Thanks, Cath.” She held up the paper and waved at Gil. “I’ll go check this scene ou—”
Gil gasped again. Catherine’s foot had pushed solidly against Sara’s shin. In pain, the brunette bent over, to rub her leg. That’s when Gil gasped for the third time, as he watched Catherine’s fist move into Sara’s chin.
Sara howled and fell back, landing on the floor with a thud. “Still feeling better?” Catherine challenged with a raised eyebrow, despite the fact that her face ached.
"Okay, both of you break it up," Gil shouted, knowing that he had to be the responsible one. "Sara, go home -- Warrick will take over your cases. You're on suspension for a week. Catherine, go to the lounge and sit there until I tell you to do otherwise. You're not working tonight."
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sara scoffed. “She started it!”
Gil glared at her. “You baited her.”
“But—”
“Want to make it unpaid leave?”
She bowed her head. “No.”
"Cath, are you okay?" Gil asked as he comprehended that she hadn't even tried to get up yet.
"I'm doing a body inventory," Catherine mumbled. "I think she broke something, but I'm not sure..."
The look on Gil's face made Sara immediately feel that she had moved in error, and she felt recalcitrant, albeit only because he wanted her to be, but still --
Gil wanted to go to her, but he didn’t think it would be entirely appropriate in front of Sara. Sara who stood in front of Catherine, arms crossed, lower lip jutted out as she pouted.
“Sara,” Gil asked as politely as he could. “Don’t you have somewhere you should be going?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “You’re not going to make her leave?”
"Considering that the attack was largely unprovoked and that Catherine's got more than just a shiner, I think the hell not," Gil said in a tone that was both quiet and dangerous. "Get out of my office before I call someone to remove you."
Sara bit her lip and ducked out of the office, like a dog with its tail between its legs. Gil walked over and shut the door behind her, before crouching down and examining the damage. Catherine flinched when he touched her cheek gently with his fingers. “Don’t touch it, it hurts,” she murmured.
“I should go get you some ice for that.” He whispered as his eyes checked her body over, looking for signs of more damage. “What do you think is broken?”
"My cheek bone -- I heard it crunch when she hit me," Catherine mumbled. "And it hurts to talk or even move."
"Want me to call an ambulance?"
"Gil, I'm not dying --"
"Catherine, if she hit you hard enough to break the cheekbone, it's possible that she hit hard enough to send some of those bone fragments into your brain," Gil said, trying to mask his fright that that could have happened.
“She’s not that strong,” Catherine commented dryly.
“Cath,” he brushed his fingers through her hair. “Let me call an ambulance, please?”
“If you just help me up,” she muttered. “You can put me in the car and drop me off there, and then—”
“There’s no way I’m just dropping you off, are you crazy?” He eyed her head looking for bumps that might’ve been caused during her fall. “Maybe you have hurt your brain.”
“Gil! I’m fine.” When he looked down at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief, she gave in. “Okay, maybe not fine. But, there’s no brain damage to speak... of.”
“Cath?”
She shook her head a little. “I’m just a bit dizzy. It’s nothing.”
"You've probably got a concussion at the very least -- oh, Cath," he sighed as he helped her to her feet, one arm around her waist, the other helping to balance her. "You've got to stop reacting to Sara like that..."
Catherine growled under her breath and Gil decided he didn't want to hear her excuse.
However, she didn’t give him one. So, he then said: “Last chance for an ambulance.”
She tried to turn her head, but it hurt too much. Instead, she muttered: “If you make me get in an ambulance, you’ll never sleep in my bed again.”
"Fine -- we're going by Chevy, then," Gil said with another sigh as they walked down the corridor.
Nick ran up with a look of disbelief on his face. "Holy shit -- Grissom, I'm gonna knock whoever did that for a loop!"
"Sara has already left the building," Gil said, "so unless you want to go to her house and make it so she can file assault and battery charges, I'd recommend against it."
The Texan’s face paled. “Sara did this?”
“I did get her back,” Catherine commented, making him smile a little. Nick then walked to the other side of her and then put his arm around her, making it easier for Gil. When they made it to the door, Nick left her side and opened it for the couple to walk through.
“Nick,” Gil asked. “Do you mind coming to the Tahoe and opening the door for her?”
“No problem,” he responded, returning to Catherine’s side as they walked out into the parking lot.
"Oh, would you guys stop fawning over me?" She snapped.
"I doubt Lindsey would see it as fawning," Gil pointed out.
"No, you'd probably become her knight in shining armor," Catherine mumbled. "She might even like it when you stay the night now."
Nick coughed and raised an eyebrow.
Gil looked at him, panicking a little and shrugged. “Crazy talk. Head bump.” Once they got Catherine buckled into her seat, he turned to Nick: “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” he said, wearing a grin on his face.
“Would you mind taking the shift tonight?”
“Really?”
He nodded. “It’s just you and Warrick tonight. I’m really sorry, but I can’t leave her alone. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
"And I'll be hitting the pill bottle," Catherine chimed in.
"So, man," Nick said as he shut Cath's door. "What's the story, really?"
"None of your damn business," Gil said.
Nick was about to say something to reflect the shock he was feeling, when Gil softened. “Look, I’m sorry, Nick. I just don’t think either of them would appreciate it if I started telling their coworkers what happened.”
“Hey! Gris!” Both men turned to see Warrick jogging out into the parking lot. “Cath okay?”
Gil’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Sara told me about the fight on her way out,” he answered. Nick turned to look at him. Warrick returned their glares. “What?”
“What exactly did she tell you?”
"She told me that she hit Cath, Cath went down, kicked her, then hit her, and didn't get up -- holy hell," he said upon seeing Cath's face through the Tahoe window.
"I'm taking her to the hospital," Gil said loudly. "If you need me, and it better be a damn good emergency, you know how to get a hold of me."
The darker man nodded. “Sure.”
“I gave Nick the shift tonight. Please work *together*,” Gil said when he saw Warrick and Nick smile at each other.
“No bets,” Nick assured him.
“Tell Cath that we’re thinkin’ about her,” Warrick added.
Gil nodded. “I will.”
He climbed into the Tahoe and looked over at Catherine, who stirred a little when he sat down and jostled her. "Are we there yet?" She mumbled.
"Not yet," he said with a sad smile. "But I'll let you know when we get there."
“Good...” she sighed, as her body tipped over so she leaned against his shoulder. He tried to settle her upright again, but it was difficult when he was trying to stay on the road.
“Cath, honey, you’ve got to stay awake.”
“But—”
"I know it's difficult, but you have to," he said firmly.
"Then talk to me," she instructed.
"Okay -- where would you like to get married?" He asked.
"On a beach, under the stars..." She whispered with a smile that made her wince in pain. "Naked."
“We can’t invite our family and friends if we’re naked,” he responded, smiling at her answer. “And Lindsey definitely wouldn’t enjoy that. Didn’t we promise her that she wouldn’t have to see—”
“Oh, shush,” she cut him off. “Always ruining a perfectly good fantasy.”
He chuckled. “Well, how about that’s where we spend our wedding night?”
"Our honeymoon," she corrected.
"And what about the wedding?"
"Somewhere gaudy and all Vegas with Elvis presiding," she said with a giggle.
He laughed with her, as he turned into the hospital parking lot, pleased that they had arrived and that Catherine was awake. “You want Elvis to preside at our wedding?”
“Kinda fitting, don’t you think?” She asked, voice growing soft. “I mean, we’re in Vegas.”
"But can you imagine the wedding pictures?" Gil prompted with a smile as he helped her out of the car.
"Elvis with a pompadour and me with pin curls," Cath mumbled, giggling again. "And you in a tux."
The fit of giggles caused her to wince in pain. Gil steadied her and pressed his lips to her temple. “Easy, Cath.”
“We’re here,” she remarked as they walked up to the ER’s entrance. “You really are my knight in shining armour.”
“I aim to please,” he said squeezing her body gently to his. The automatic doors slid open. “When we get you looked at, I’ll call for Lindsey, okay?”
"Mmmkay," Cath mumbled. "Gil, if I live through this, can we get married tonight?"
He hesitated for only a moment before saying, "Yeah."
"Good -- don't need family and friends... just need us -- wow it's bright in here," she groaned.
“Easy,” he tried again to steady her.
“Can you turn the lights off?”
“Sure, no problem,” he replied sarcastically. “I’m sure none of the staff here would have a problem with that.”
"You're mean," she mumbled.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" The admitting nurse asked.
"A right hook," Cath growled.
Gil calmly explained the situation. The nurse took it all in—even Catherine’s additions to the story—and then told them that she would be right back.
Within twenty minutes, which Gil found surprising, Catherine was being seen by a doctor, and he was waiting in the waiting area of the ER. When he adjusted his position, he felt his cell phone at his waist, and immediately, he thought of Lindsey.
But before he could even get the phone to his ear, the doctor was coming out of Cath's room. "Mr. Grissom, I'm Dr. Michaels," she said, extending her hand. "Ms. Willows has a hairline fracture of the cheekbone and she's going to be in a lot of pain for a few days. I'm recommending that she stay off of work for three weeks, sees her general practitioner once a week, and takes Vicodin until the pain becomes bearable. You're her --?"
"Boss, fiancé, whatever," he said, shaking his head.
“So this should be relatively easy to arrange,” she commented, a smile starting to curve her mouth.
“I’ll make sure she stays off work and sees her GP,” he told the doctor. “When will she be ready to leave?”
"Oh, probably not for another hour or two, until her pain killers have kicked in," Dr. Michaels said, drumming her fingernails on her clipboard. "And no fighting for a few months, okay?"
"I didn't hit her!" Gil gaped.
“Who did, then?”
He sighed. “One of her coworkers. They haven’t been getting along, and tonight, things just... blew up.”
He sensed the doctor didn’t entirely believe him, but convincing her wasn’t his main priority.
"Can I go sit with her?" Gil asked, sighing in exasperation.
"Of course -- she's insisted that the lights be turned off, though," she replied with a snort.
Gil chuckled and followed the doctor to Catherine’s room. As his fiancée desired, the lights were off. “Thanks, Dr. Michaels.”
“I’ll see you again before you both leave.”
“Gil?” Catherine called out as the other woman turned to leave. “Is that you, sweetie?”
He turned and entered the room, stopping to let his eyes adjust before heading to her bed. “I’m right here. How did it go?”
“They turned the lights out for me.”
“I noticed,” he quipped, before he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad to hear you’re going to be alright.”
“You can kiss better than that.”
“We’re in a hospital.”
“So?” She countered. “It’s dark in here.”
"Yeah, but --"
"No buts about it," she insisted.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't -- I can't feel my face," Catherine giggled.
Gil chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, but if it hurts...”
“Don’t worry, you’ll know.”
Tentatively, he touched his lips to hers. She sighed; he was surprised when he felt her hand at the back of his head, lowering him down more. He brought a hand up and gently tucked some of her hair behind her ear.
"Are we still getting married?" She asked when they broke apart for breath.
"Maybe not tonight," he hedged...
"But you promised," she whispered.
"Yes, however, since then you've gotten high on painkillers," he pointed out.
"So?"
“So, I want you to remember the entire thing...” he struggled, and then remembered something important: “What about Lindsey?”
“She’ll agree to it.”
“Seriously?” He pushed. “You know she wasn’t entirely thrilled... it might be too much for her.”
“Well, let’s call her and see.”
He sighed, eyebrows furrowed together. “She doesn’t even know about your little accident. I was about to call her, but the doctor came—”
“Give me the phone.”
“You aren’t even supposed to use cell phones in hospitals.”
“She won’t answer it this late at night if it’s from a strange number,” Catherine huffed. “It’s our rule. Your phone will pop up ‘Gil’s Cell’ on the display.”
“You aren’t even supposed to use cell phones in hospitals.”
“She won’t answer it this late at night if it’s from a strange number,” Catherine huffed. “It’s our rule. Your phone will pop up ‘Gil’s Cell’ on the display.”
"Yeah, but you're not supposed to --"
"Oh, fuck the rules," Cath muttered, dialing her home number.
"You could've saved time by pushing 11," Gil confessed.
"I'm 11 on your speed dial?" She asked indignantly.
"No, you're number one -- I just assigned you to 11."
She huffed, waiting for her daughter to answer the phone. “Gil?”
“No, baby, it’s me.”
“Mom... why are you using Uncle Gil’s cell phone?”
Catherine managed a half-smile in his direction. “Well, he’s right here, and I needed to call you, so he let me use his phone.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It will be. I’m at the hospital right now, but Gil’ll bring me home—”
Lindsey interrupted with a question: “Why are you at the hospital?”
“Well, I got into a little accident, and I banged my head, Gil just wanted to have it checked o—”
She interrupted her with another question: “Can you put him on the phone?”
Catherine sighed. "Yes, you can talk to him --"
"Now, please," Lindsey insisted firmly.
Catherine handed him the phone and shrugged. Gil put the phone to his ear and said, "Hello?"
She could hear Lindsey's voice loud and clear: "WHAT THE HECK IS MY MOM DOING IN THE HOSPITAL?!"
Gil winced and tried to explain it the best way he could. He knew that he couldn’t lie to the girl, so he decided to stick to the truth, leaving names and exact words out of it. “Well, we were at work, and she was having a heated discussion with another coworker, and things got out of hand, and—”
“Who hit my mother?”
He winced again, looking at Catherine for help, but finding none. “Lindsey, who did it isn’t important... your mother is going to be fine.”
"I know she's going to be fine, otherwise you would've called and she wouldn't have been on the phone a few minutes ago. Who hit her?"
"No one important --"
"WHO WAS IT?!"
"Would you stop yelling in my ear?"
"Not till you tell me who hit my mom," Lindsey said stubbornly.
"Fine, it was Sara," Gil huffed.
There was silence on the other end of the line, then Lindsey said, "Pardon me for my language -- that bitch is going DOWN!"
Gil bit back a groan, and tried to fix the situation. He turned away from Catherine, who was staring up at him looking somewhat angry, and started talking into the phone: “Linds, more violence isn’t going to fix this.”
“It might not fix it, but it’ll make me feel better.”
He struggled not to smile. “Maybe you should just let your mother resolve things.”
“Can I go see her?”
“Sure, I can come and get you and bring you back to the hospital—”
Lindsey corrected him: “Sara. Can I go see Sara?”
“Why do you want to go see Sara?”
“Because I want her to get what's coming to her --"
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Gil's tone startled even him. He glanced at Catherine, whose eyes were glittering up at him in the darkness, and he could just barely see the stunned expression on her face.
Lindsey's voice, when it came, was very small. "You didn't have to yell at me," she mumbled.
He sighed. “You’re right. I’m really sorry. It’s been a tense couple of hours,” he felt Catherine’s hand on his leg. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you Lindsey.”
She sniffed. “Apology accepted.”
“Would you like me to come get you so you can see your mom?”
“You don’t mind?”
He relaxed a little, but sensed he was still in the doghouse. “No, of course not. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Okay. Can I talk to Mom again?”
“Sure,” he said, handing the phone over to his fiancee.
They chatted amiably for a couple of minutes before Cath hung up, then turned to hand him back his phone. "As unorthodox as screaming at her was, it seems to have worked." Her tone was crisp and cool. "But next time, just give me the phone and let me talk to her."
He nodded. “Yeah.” He paused and bit his lip, pondering something that had just occurred to him. She squeezed his knee and asked him what was wrong. After a couple of moments, he asked: “Will I ever get the hang of this parenting thing?”
"It's not something you get the hang of, and there's no right or wrong way to do things," Catherine said patiently. "And Lindsey is difficult."
"But she's a good kid," Gil interjected.
"Yeah -- you're a good guy, too."
“So, it’s doable?”
She smiled. “Definitely.” He bent down, feeling better, and kissed her forehead. When she complained with a moan, he placed a kiss on her lips. She wriggled. “Much better.”
“I’ll go get your daughter.”
“No stops on the way.”
“Absolutely not,” he agreed. “Straight here, no detours.”
She sighed contentedly when he kissed her again, before leaving.
~*~
When Gil pulled into Catherine's driveway, the porch light came on and Lindsey bounded out, purse on her shoulder and teddy bear in her arms. She ran over and climbed into the Tahoe without even letting Gil turn off the engine.
"I thought about what you said," Lindsey said as she buckled her seat belt. "And violence is a bad thing."
"Yes, it is," Gil said, reversing.
"So I'll just have to come up with some other way to get Sara back," Lindsey said with an impish grin.
“I’m sure Sara feels bad about this already,” he said as he backed out of the driveway. “She’s already been given a week’s suspension, and your mother managed to hit her back.”
“Yea, Mom!” Lindsey cheered for Catherine, unable to control herself.
Gil fought to hide his smile. “Lindsey...”
“I know, I know. Violence is bad...” she sighed and let her head fall back against the seat.
"You tired?" He asked.
"Yeah," Lindsey said with a suppressed yawn that ended up sounding like an elephant's trumpet. "Er, I mean --"
"It's okay," he assured her. "You brought your bear, so I assumed --"
"He's for mom," Lindsey snapped. "I'm not a baby anymore."
"I wasn't suggesting that you were," Gil said, his voice heavy with defeat.
"So, I was thinking," Lindsey said a few minutes later after the silence had become intolerable. "I think it'd be okay if you married mom."
“Really?” He couldn’t help the squeak of surprise in his voice.
She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve got a lot to learn about kids, but I’ll teach you all that.”
He smiled down at her when he had a chance. “I’m looking forward to it.”
She looked up at him and said, "I'm sure you are."
Again, silence reigned supreme in the SUV, until they got parked at the hospital. As they left the car, Lindsey came around and took Gil's hand firmly in hers.
"Are you sure I can't do something wicked and mean to Sara?" She asked.
He smiled down, trying to figure out the best way to handle it. “Well... how about if you think of something, and then you ask your mother or I if you can do it? Does that sound fair?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” she nodded as they walked into the building, hand in hand, to Catherine’s room.
"Hi, mommy," Lindsey said all too cheerfully as she barreled into the darkened room. "I brought Buster with me," she continued, sitting down beside her mother on the bed. "And it's okay if you and Uncle Gil get married, as long as I can do something mean to Sara to get her back."
"Why don't you put a spider in her locker?" Catherine suggested.
"That would be a perfectly good waste of a spider," Gil interjected.
"Aren't you supposed to be getting someone to get us married?" Catherine shot back.
Gil shrugged and looked down at his feet. "I guess so," he agreed with a boyish grin on his lips.
Cat in His Lap
It was true. Gil smiled, his back to the quartet, as he finished tacking up the fake green spruce boughs to the dreary walls. When the confusion in the room became overwhelming he called to them over his shoulder: “Tis the season, team.”
“But, Gris—” Nick started.
“But, Nicky, my boy,” he cut him off. “It’s the time to be jolly, and I intend to do just that.”
The doors opened again.
"Hey, i thought you weren't supposed to be back to work till next week, Cath," Nick said with a big smile.
Catherine shrugged and smiled as she leaned against the door frame. "I'm not really working -- I'm going to help Gris with his paperwork tonight," she said.
"Hey, look up," Gil said. When she did, he said, "Mistletoe."
“Gil, what did I tell you about that stuff?” When he smiled and didn’t answer, she smiled back and shook her head, blonde ringlets bouncing. The other CSI’s looked at both of them, confusion painted clearly on their faces. “You didn’t tell them?”
“Tell us what?” Sara said while crossing her arms.
Catherine smiled as sweetly as she possibly could, given the circumstances; her cheek had healed, finally, but their tentative friendship hadn’t. “Oh, nothing. It’s not too important,” she saw Gil’s dark gaze, his half smile, and she felt her stomach flop. He chuckled when she creased her brow and glared in his direction. “You’ll find out tomorrow at the Christmas Party.”
Warrick chuckled. “Is it a good surprise?”
Gil nodded, stepping back from the group to staple a stray branch to the wall. “I think so.”
Nick smirked. “So, tomorrow, then.”
“Something to ponder while you’re out getting your graveshift gift exchange present,” Catherine said with a grin, before turning and walking out of the room.
Sara wrinkled her nose. "I forgot about that," she muttered.
"Well, don't forget for too long," Gil prompted. "The party is at 6 tomorrow night, remember?"
"Don't remind me," Warrick grumbled. "No booze allowed -- why the heck doesn't Ecklie keep his dick in his own pants and leave us the hell alone?"
“Ahh, that would be too easy,” Greg commented. The others chuckled.
Gil, eager to follow Catherine and eager to avoid Sara’s gaze, quickly tucked the staple gun into the drawer he had found it in, and then he tucked the remaining bags of decorations into cupboard. Before he could say anything, his cell phone rang.
“Grissom.”
“Why aren’t you in your office?” Catherine asked with a soft voice.
Gil glanced at the others, who were pretending to not listen. He almost laughed at their acting skills, but he decided to let them think they were super-sleuths. “Because I’m still in the lounge.”
"Well, get out of the lounge," she prompted.
"Okay -- I'm on my way..." He hung up and looked at the 'super geniuses'. "Well, I already gave you your assignments -- what are you all doing, standing around in here?"
"My assignment was to get variously flavored candy canes," Greg grumbled.
Gil smiled. “Tis the season, Greg. I’d get on that if I were you,” he then warned, with a sparkle in his eye. “I’d hate to have to tell Catherine you weren’t—”
Greg put his hands up in protest and walked out of the lab. Gil smiled at the others, and followed him out.
Catherine practically jumped on him the minute his office door was closed. "Why didn't you tell them?!"
"Because I thought it was a bad idea -- you know, what with Sara being on the nightshift and --"
"So fire her!" Cath exclaimed.
Gil shot her a withering look. “You can’t possibly be serious!”
She shrugged. “You weren’t on the receiving end of her swinging fist, last time I checked.”
When she started to pout, he wrapped his arms around her. “Catherine, if you still want to break the news to them, which I fully support, we can do it at the party, like we first planned.” She continued to pout. He bent down and kissed her lower lip, sucking gently on it. He felt her resolve weakening. Soon, her arms were wrapped around his neck and they were in the middle of a passionate kiss.
She pulled back. “If you think your kiss is going to make me forget about what you just promised...” She watched him reach for his shelf, where he picked up a piece of mistletoe. He grinned, one end of his smile higher than the other, giving him a mischievous appearance. “We already kissed.”
“This is special mistletoe,” he told her.
"We've got work to do," she said in a stern tone that made his smile grow.
"So why not play for a minute before we delve into the realms of the imponderable?" He teased.
"All right, I'll bite -- what makes this mistletoe so special?" She asked, leaning closer.
He dropped it down to waist level. "All the different places you can kiss," he responded with a grin.
Catherine gasped as Gil slowly eased himself down onto his knees, rubbing the mistletoe over her stomach after pulling the hem of her shirt up. She shivered, goosebumps covering her skin.
Then, he placed his lips to her navel; it was a feather-light touch, but still enough to make her knees buckle. She wavered. Gil was quick and reached around behind her to hold her up. “Easy, Cath.”
“This isn’t easy,” she muttered after he kissed her again. “You try standing up while you’re doing... *that*.” He reached for the button her pants but she swatted him away. “We have work to do, Gil, and I’d like to not fall over.”
"Spoilsport," he replied with a smirk.
"Get that thought out of your head this instant, Gil!" Catherine cried. "Surely you can't hate doing your paperwork so much as *that*!"
He stood up and met her gaze with one of his own. “Maybe I just love *that* more than paperwork.”
“Oh, I feel so special—” she stopped talking when she saw the predatory gleam in his eyes. She knew that look; she also knew that she was in trouble. “—now. Gil Grissom, if you know what’s best you’ll—”
She let out a shriek when he picked her up and unceremoniously dropped her onto the sofa on the far wall of his office. Disorientated, she looked up at him, still smiling, still holding onto the tiny, fake plant. He sat down and leaned over her, swiftly pinning her wrists under one hand, swiftly pressing his lips to hers.
He kissed her until they were both breathless, gasping for air and yet desiring the breath from each others' lungs more than life itself. Catherine moaned and licked her lips as they pulled apart, panting from the effort of restraining themselves.
"Do I make you horny?" She asked a moment later, in a moment of impish weakness.
Gil reached for her hand and put it between them, on the hardening bulge in his dark trousers. The contact made his hips react; they pushed against her hand. “Yeah, baby,” he said, nuzzling her neck. When he released her hand, it moved only to tighten its hold on him. He groaned into her shoulder, while she teased him.
"We'd better be careful, or someone will walk in and get an eyeful," she commented as she stroked him through his trousers, loving the noises he made in the back of his throat as she made him frustrated and more than normally aroused.
"I need a lock on that door," he grunted, thrusting his hips forward so she had a better grip.
“Your fish is still working, isn’t it?”
His laugh was strangled as her ministrations continued at the agonizing pace she had set. “Yeah, why?”
“Let’s move behind your desk,” she suggested, before licking a tiny trail along the underside of his jaw. “Take the cushions with us...”
“I can’t believe you’re suggesting this,” he said between kisses to her lips.
“You started it,” she countered.
"And you're gonna finish it?" He groaned as they stumbled behind the desk with cushions.
"Damn straight, hottie," she replied with a big smile as she reached into his pants and got her hand around his cock. "Now..."
"Oh god," he moaned, hips jerking forward.
In a couple smooth movements, she unfastened his pants and moved the fabric aside. Slowly at first, she used her hands to build up a rhythm; when she introduced her mouth into it, he groaned loudly. She smiled and continued to drive him crazy.
“You definitely are trying to finish me off, aren’t you?” He muttered, lifting his hips off the cushion in reaction to her touch.
She paused for a moment, then said, "I told you that I was going to finish it..."
His hips flew off the couch when she started humming against his shaft, and suddenly the sounds of a singing fish drove reality home.
Catherine’s eyes went wide, as did Gil’s.
“Hello?”
She grunted, and managed to call back. “One second, Sara. I lost an earring—” Gil smiled despite the situation while he watched Catherine pull her earring out of her ear and stand up, holding the tiny gold ring up. “Found it.”
“Where’s Gil?”
“He wanted to buy coffee and bagels,” Catherine replied, walking around to the front of the desk, leaning against it while she put her earring back in. “Did you want to leave a message?”
“Are you sure he’s not here? I could’ve sworn I heard him in here a second ago.”
"I was playing his voicemail message to make sure it was up to date," Catherine said with a shrug. "You know how anal he gets about being reminded about that..."
"No, I wouldn't," Sara said with a glare.
"Would you like to leave a message?" Catherine asked.
Gil heard footsteps and he thought he was going to be caught, lying on his sofa’s cushions with his pants open, completely exposed for Sara to see. However, Catherine intercepted. “You still haven’t answered my question, Sidle.”
“Yes, I have.”
“No, you haven’t. Would you like to leave a message?”
"No, I would not like to leave a message, and yes, I need to get one of Grissom's Pixie Stix before my blood sugar drops through the floor," Sara retorted.
"I'll get one for you -- what flavor?" Cath asked, trying not to trip over Gil as she came around the desk.
“Doesn’t matter,” she replied stiffly. “I can get it, it’s no—”
“Definitely not,” Catherine said firmly. “I mean, it’s his desk, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want just anyone snooping through it.”
Still lying on his back, Gil rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how territorial these two women were acting. He had never thought Catherine was the type for that kind of behavior, but apparently, she was.
“My thoughts exactly,” Sara quipped. “Maybe we should just wait for him.”
Catherine shook her head. Gil, in his efforts to soothe her, reached for her ankle and started to rub its inside surface. She shook her head again, leading Gil to believe that shake was for him, so he retracted his hand. “No,” she fished out a few different flavours, and handed them over. “I’d like to get back to work, and I’d like you gone.”
"You know what?" Sara said in a surly tone. "These little games of yours aren't going to win him over."
"Oh and yours are?" Catherine shot back. "I've got news for you, Sidle -- there's a lot more to life than batting your eyelashes in an attempt to cover up your bad posture that makes you look pregnant all the time."
Sara’s eyes darkened. Catherine knew she was in trouble. Gil had reached for her ankle again. This time, the touch wasn’t soothing; it wasn’t frightening, either, but it was a firmer grip than she expected. She kicked out her ankle a little, but it wouldn’t go away.
“Catherine, at least I’m not flirting with every man in here, using them all to get what I want, still living in my glory days when I had an attractive body. Face it,” she snorted. “You miss all the attention men used to lavish on you.”
"you know what?" Catherine snapped. "At least I had salad days and I'm proud of them. I'm proud that I wasn't just sitting around waiting for life to happen to me -- and if you can't accept that that's just the way I am, fuck you."
Sara smirked. "I pushed a button or two, didn't I?"
"Fuck off," Catherine snarled. "You're never going to get it are you? He isn't interested in you."
Gil’s grip on her ankle tightened a little. She didn’t wince, because she didn’t want to give Sara any hint of weakness, or of someone else in the room. She had the distinct feeling, however, that Gil would be angry with her when the brunette finally left.
“How do you know?”
“You know how you have one person, one best friend that you’ve come to count on for—” Catherine paused and smiled. “Actually, no, you probably wouldn’t know. Well, just to inform you, friends tell each other private things.” Her smile turned into a smirk. “You know what else? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about you like that.”
If looks could kill, Catherine would have been pushing up trees from six feet under. Sara finally just turned and left without a word.
"That's it -- we're getting you a lock," Catherine quipped after she left. But Gil's grip on her ankle changed slightly, and she winced.
"I'm not happy," he informed her.
“I wouldn’t be either, knowing that I hired such a—” she stopped short and took a deep breath. “There’s a chance you’re not talking about her, isn’t there?”
When she turned around, Gil already had his pants pulled up and fastened again. His gaze was hard; she found it uncomfortable to meet his gaze. “Why do you let her get to you like that?”
“I don’t like how she... fawns all over you.”
“Is Catherine Grissom jealous?”
“No, Gil,” she said after stewing silently for a couple minutes. “I’m not. I’m possessive. There’s a difference. You’re mine. I want her to know that it’s not acceptable for her to be able to do that. I want her to know that you’ve chosen me as your wife and there’s nothing she can do to change your mind.”
"In other words, you are not only jealous, but extremely jealous, and you're going to become as territorial as a jackal," he filled in for her.
"Maybe something like that," she said with a sheepish look.
"Maybe you ought to go home," he suggested.
She nodded, accepting his decision. “Will you be coming home?”
“Catherine,” he looked up at her. “I’m your husband, and there’s no place I’d rather be than home. Want me to bring home supper?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I have some free time now,” she said pointedly, so there’s time to cook.” She stepped past him, rounding the corner of the desk. “I’ll see you later.”
“Cath?”
“Mmhmm?”
He was standing up at this point, his clothes a little wrinkled. His arms extended and she fell into them. He kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear. “I would never ever change my mind.”
"I know," she murmured in reply, enjoying the thrill of his breath upon her ear. "And tomorrow we can tell all the nice people about it, right?"
"Nice people? Does that mean you don't want to tell some people?"
Catherine shrugged. "Well, I really want to tell Sara now, but she's a blabbermouth."
He sighed. She wished she could retract her words. “Catherine, maybe it’s not a good idea to tell—”
“You’re backing out?”
Gil shook his head, his hair tickling her. “No, definitely not. I want everyone to know how happy you’ve made me by choosing me.” He shrugged. “I’m just worried that Sara won’t handle it well.”
"You can't worry about Sara all the time," Cath said soothingly. "Look, I'm just gonna go home and we'll talk later -- when there isn't a threat of people walking in and spoiling things."
"Okay," he agreed with a smile. "I love you, you know."
"I know," she replied with a smirk.
He kissed her once, and then let her slip away. As he watched her leave through the open door, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. When he finally turned back towards his desk, he heard Catherine’s footsteps nearing the door again. “Oh, Gil?”
“Yes, Cath?”
She grinned. “Have fun with your paperwork.”
"You suck," he grumbled, listening as she laughed as she walked down the hall...
~*~
"I am not wearing that!" Gil yelped.
"But I bought it for you," Cath whined.
“No way, no how,” he balked. Catherine’s pouting face was following him as he backed up to retreat. “Cath, honey, I love you, but this is... wrong.”
She continued to push. “But, if you love me... there is no such thing as wro—”
“I can’t believe you are using that as a defense.”
"It's only a Santa suit," Cath said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You volunteered to play Santa for the thing and --"
"But I didn't volunteer for the red suit!" He cried.
She eyed him, one eyebrow raised. “What else did you think Santa would wear?”
He shrugged, unflappable. “Black pants, a grey shirt, maybe a leather jacket?”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “You’re awful. Where’s the Christmas spirit from yesterday?” He didn’t dignify that question with a verbal response. She quickly moved on, and asked: “Can you just wait here for one minute? I’m going to get dressed... but the zipper gets sticky.”
He nodded and then, his face lit up. “You sure you don’t need help with that bathrobe belt? I think it looks pretty sticky from here—”
As he reached for her, she gently tapped his hands away. “Nope. I don’t want to have to shower again.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“Yes,” she told him. “I would.” When she disappeared into her closet, and reappeared moments later, she took his silence and wide eyes to be a good thing, since she didn’t know how else to take it. “C’mon, Gil... seriously. Who else did you think would act as Mrs. Claus?”
"But you've got passing in places that you shouldn't have padding," he protested.
"And so will you -- go get dressed!" She insisted sharply. "Lindsey's already ready and waiting for us downstairs... Come on, Gil..."
"There will be photographic evidence of my humiliation," he growled.
Catherine turned and looked at Gil. He looked miserable. She didn’t think she had ever seen him that miserable. Quite frankly, she felt awful. She sighed and stepped out of the room to tell Lindsey they’d be a couple more minutes. Then, she turned back to Gil.
“Okay,” she said on a sigh. “If you wear this... I’ll... uh... owe you. Hmmm... a bath?”
He shrugged. “I’m listening.”
Catherine growled, knowing he was waiting to see what else he would be offered.
"And, uh..." She hesitated a moment. "And a massage."
He wrinkled his nose. "And?" He prompted.
"And... breakfast in bed."
He looked at her, evenly in her blue eyes, and nodded. “Sounds good to me. You’ve got a deal.”
She smiled, although she knew that Gil would never forget. He never forgot a bet. “Seal it with a kiss?”
He leaned down and pressed a gently tender kiss to her lips, and smiled. "Sealed."
"And... by the way..." She held up the Santa hat, with attached beard. "Don't forget this."
He frowned and made a face. "Oh, all right, I'm just grumpy --"
"I know," she murmured. "We'll take care of that later, my love." Catherine grinned at him. "I have an early Christmas present for you..."
"Padding?"
"No -- I'll tell you later."
~*~
When the rest of the team came in, seeing Gil sitting in a chair with Catherine tucked cozily into his lap, they all silently contemplated what they were seeing in front of them.
Sara spoke first, her voice surprisingly light—as if she was teasing them playfully. “C’mon, Cath, are you trying to squish him?”
Catherine glared at her for a minute, but when Gil squeezed her hand, she sighed and replied: “No, I’m just telling Santa what I want for Christmas.”
Warrick chuckled. “And that is?”
Catherine looked at Gil, an eyebrow raised, a hopeful expression on her face. He sighed softly. He wanted to tell them, but he thought that waiting until the end of the evening might be better. Then again, he rationalized, Sara was in a seemingly good mood—better than her usual state of mind the past couple of weeks.
“A quiet weekend at home with her daughter and husband,” Gil spoke up.
Greg looked at Nick, and then at Warrick. Sara stared straight ahead, watching Gil and Catherine lift their hands to show wedding bands on their fingers.
They watched the expression on her face go from almost pleasant to crushed and pitiful in a matter of moments. "Excuse me," Sara managed to squeak before turning and walking away -- straight into Ecklie and two of his day staff. "Get the fuck out amy way," Sara spat.
Back in the lounge, Warrick looked at the couple, and smiled. “I’m thrilled... I mean, finally. But, I’m gonna go run after Sara, make sure she’s okay, y’know?”
Gil nodded. “Sure. It came out wrong, we’ve been—”
“Secretly married for how long now?” Greg asked as the darker man rushed out of the room.
Catherine chuckled. “Since I was in the hospital.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nick asked, almost pouting, hurt that two members of his team, two close friends, would keep something so important from him.
The strawberry blonde shrugged. “It was never the right time, and we didn’t know how you’d handle it. Clearly, some did better than others.”
"You knew she was gonna do that though -- she's had her sights set on him ever since..."
"Hey, where did Lindsey go?" Cath asked, suddenly realizing that Lindsey had left the room.
"I haven't seen her since we came in," Greg said with a frown.
Cath and Gil exchanged glances. "You don't think she went to do something to Sara, do you?" Catherine asked.
As if the moment had been choreographed, Warrick burst into the room, carrying Lindsey over his shoulder. She was squirming and swinging her arms: “Let me at her! Just one more hit! Uncle Warrrrrrrick!”
He jostled her a little. “Hey, Linds... you know I’m never taking you boxing again, right?”
Catherine stood up and crossed her arms, trying to look dignified and authoritative in her costume. “Lindsey Willows, what did you to?”
"NOTHING!" Lindsey shouted.
"She got one good punch on Sara, and Ecklie came to the rescue," Warrick said, shuddering. "That was about the time I made it into the hall."
"Lindsey Rose Samantha Willows!" Catherine shouted.
Lindsey's face drained of all color and she slumped back into Warrick's arms. When her mother used her first middle name, she meant business. When she used both middle names, someone was going to DIE.
Warrick eased her down onto the ground. Gil watched the scene, afraid for both Catherine and Lindsey. Since the wedding, things had been relatively peaceful, and he’d rarely have to step up and act as an authority figure. But, he didn’t want his wife to always be the bad guy.
So, he reached out, and touched her arm. “Hey,” he whispered. “I’m gonna talk to Linds, okay?” When Catherine nodded, Gil nodded to the girl, motioning that they head out into the hall.
"What happened to violence is bad?" Gil prompted.
"I hate her," Lindsey growled.
"Jus t because you hate someone is no reason to hit them -- you put yourself onto her level when you did that, Linds!"
She frowned, contemplating what he was saying. “But... I wanted to protect Mom. She always protects me.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure she appreciates the gesture.”
“What else could I have done, though?”
"You could have let me handle it," Gil said firmly. "Where did you hit her?"
Lindsey bit her lip. "Uh... you don't wanna know."
Gil closed his eyes. "Where?"
"I hit her in the nose," Lindsey mumbled.
He groaned softly and leaned against the wall. She started to talk: “Well, I was aiming for her cheek, but she moved. Not quick enough, unfortunately for her, but—”
“Lindsey.”
She sighed and leaned against the wall next to him. “I know. No more hitting.”
“Promise?” He opened one eye and looked down at her.
She opened one eye and looked up at him tentatively. “Promise.” When he smiled and opened his other eye, she did the same. Then, she asked: “I s’pose I should go apologize?”
"You probably should, yes," Gil said mildly.
Lindsey crept down the hall to where Ecklie was helping Sara put an ice pack on her nose. "Sara?"
"What do you want, you little cretin?" Sara snapped.
At the tone of the brunette’s voice, Lindsey looked back hesitantly at Gil, who had also winced; he nodded to encourage her, so she turned back and faced the woman who was being tended to by a man who looked just as cranky as she did.
“I, uh, well, I wanted to say I was sorry,” she started, looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry for punching you.”
"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it in the first place," Sara muttered.
"That doesn't make any sense, and that's because you're stupid -- you're stupid and ugly!" Lindsey said, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. "And I won't say I'm sorry for telling the TRUTH!"
“Lindsey!”
She turned and looked at Gil, who was looking like a very nervous Santa Claus. “You can’t get mad, because you and Mom always tell me to tell the truth. It’ll set me free, or something like that.”
“I, uh, I don’t quite think that’s what we meant.”
“You *lied*? After telling me how important it is to be good and truthful and stuff?”
He shook his head, wishing desperately for Catherine. She always knew what to do.
"Okay, you know what -- I've had it up to here with this," Sara spat. "The only reason I came here, that I gave up a perfectly good career in Frisco, is because I thought you'd want me to be something more than a friend and a student!"
"Like I said," Lindsey piped up, "you're stupid. He's always been in love with my mom."
Gil fought to hide a smile. He looked at Sara who was finally explaining her behavior. “You kept throwing tiny hints, making me feel like I should stay and wait for you... and Catherine just made it so difficult.”
“I never meant to... do that, Sara,” he said.
“See? Stupid.” Lindsey muttered under her breath.
“Lindsey,” came Gil’s stern reply.
"What?" Lindsey snapped back, rolling her eyes in a truly teenager fashion.
Gil shook his head and sighed. "Look, Sara, if I lead you on, I'm sorry -- but I love Catherine. I always have. It's complicated, but I wouldn't give her -- or Lindsey -- up for the world. I'm sorry."
"I'm going to transfer to days," Sara muttered. "We were talking about it while Ecklie was getting my ice."
Lindsey rolled her eyes. "You are *such* a drama queen! I didn't even hit you hard!"
Sara snapped back: “Well, I learned from your mother, so—”
“Ladies.” Gil tried, but before he knew it, Lindsey was yelling something back at Sara, and Sara was yelling back. Ecklie crossed his arms and looked over at Gil, shrugging. Neither male knew what to do. Gil cleared his throat and attempted to break it up again: “Ladies!” The volume got their attention. “Please.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sara said. “I’m transferring to days. I hear the staff on that shift isn’t violent.”
Catherine's voice over Gil's shoulder made him jump. "Well, I'm sure they will be once you get there, Sara -- come on, Gil... It's time to preside over the Secret Santa stuff. Lindsey, come sit down and think about what you've done. We'll talk about it later. Sara -- I don't ever want you hitting on my husband again."
Once in the hall, she put her hand on Gil’s back, rubbing in circles. “You didn’t do badly at all,” she kissed his cheek. “You’re doing fine.”
“I have so much to learn,” he replied softly. “My head was spinning the entire time.”
Lindsey looked up, speaking for the first time since Gil interrupted her verbal sparring match with Sara: “I’ll try not to get into *so* much trouble next time.”
Gil smiled at her. “Give me an easy one?”
She grinned back, feeling a little better; if they could joke, things must be alright. “Exactly.”
"I'll get this dad thing down yet," he boasted.
"About the time you're a grandpa," Catherine quipped. "Now get in there --"
"I'm going, I'm..." He forced a smile as she propelled him into the lounge, where everyone waited.
He handed out gifts, and only when he was done did he realize that Catherine didn't have anything. He checked his list and groaned. Sara had had Cath's name.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Catherine said, leaning over to peek at the paper. He didn’t bother moving, and let her read the list to herself. “I figured. That’d be my luck.”
He glanced up at her. “Like you’d want a present from her.”
“True,” she chuckled as his hand rested on hers, as it rubbed his shoulder. “Besides, I’ve got the best present of all.”
“Oh yeah?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I got you,” she bent down and kissed his forehead, lifting up the fluffy white brim of his hat to do so. “Mmm, Santa.”
“Mrs. Claus,” he smirked. “I believe you can kiss me better than that.”
“Not in public,” she whispered, still smiling. When he pulled her around him, she fell into his lap, giggling. “Gil!”
"I feel like a sick and twisted Dr. Seuss," he commented dryly as she wriggled.
"How so?" She murmured, not sure she wanted to hear it.
"I have a Cat -- in my lap," he quipped.
"Oh, you naughty boy!" She giggled and halfheartedly slapped at him.
"So what's my present?" He asked.
"Not till we get home," she said firmly.
"Ew -- can you guys behave yourselves in public?" Lindsey asked, aghast.
Neither adult blushed. Catherine chuckled and looked at Gil: “You’ll get used to embarrassing her.”
He nodded. “One of those dad things?”
“Exactly.”
Gil reached into the pocket of his Santa suit and handed Lindsey a little box. "Merry Christmas early," he said.
She opened it and pulled out a folded up piece of paper and a necklace. "COOL!" She shouted, seeing the ornate pendant of gold and topaz that hung suspended from the chain.
"Read the paper," Gil prompted.
Lindsey carefully unfolded the paper and read it, her eyes widening. She read it again. Then she shouted, "I'm being adopted by Gil!"
“So,” Gil ventured out into the silence her yelling created. “You’re okay with this?”
She nodded exuberantly, looking from one adult to the other. Then, she walked to them, and hugged them both. “Merry Christmas.”
Catherine kissed her daughter’s temple. “Merry Christmas, Baby.”
“Merry Christmas, Linds.”
Lindsey looked up at her mother. "You gonna tell him?"
Catherine scowled at her, but said, "Oh, fine -- Gil, I might be pregnant. I'm slated to go to the doctor next week to take a test."
Gil's eyes widened into saucers, and he gulped. Then the floor rushed up to meet him.
He would blame it on the heat inside the Santa suit.
~*~
When Gil came to, everyone was still in the room, but they were watching him. Warrick raised an eyebrow, but he quickly brushed it off. “It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it?” When no one responded, out of disbelief, he pursued the idea: “Seriously, guys, there is no way Santa wears this suit in Las Vegas! Especially if he’s busy lifting things and jumping in and out of chimneys.”
Lindsey stuck her hand under the jacket and said, "You aren't hot, you big faker!"
"Here," Catherine said, lifting a cup of water to his lips.
"You said it yourself -- I'm a crazy father," Gil babbled.
"Hush," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“What if I don’t do it right?” He continued. “What if I ruin this kid’s life? What if it turns out to be a bug-obsessed, introverted, crime-solving freak? I mean, you raised Lindsey on your own, and then I started spending time with her... you raised her properly... and it’s probably too late for me to unravel any of that, but with a new baby—”
"Baby?" Sara choked as she came into the room, carrying a gift-wrapped box.
Catherine lifted her gaze. "If that's a bomb, I don't want it."
Sara bit her lip. "It's not -- I got you something nice and nonflammable."
She bent down and handed the box to Catherine, who opened it carefully. She stared at the photo frame and tears came to her eyes. "Thank you, Sara -- I don't know what to say."
"I do, though -- I'm sorry. A little."
Catherine conceded: “Me, too—a little.”
Gil nudged Lindsey: “See?”
“See what?” She whispered back into his ear.
“Things always work themselves out.”
Sara shrugged. “Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. All three of you. Hopefully I’ll see you around the building sometime.”
Catherine managed a smile. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
They watched her turn and leave. Ecklie was there, waiting for her. He gave her a smile, and she smiled back. He put an arm around her shoulders, and together, they left the room.
Catherine waited until they were out of earshot before she said, "Oh, EW! Sara and... Ecklie!"
Gil groaned. "I'm taking off the costume -- I'm dying here..."
"You're feeling smothered," Warrick put in.
"A baby -- wow man," Nick added.
“Yeah,” Gil nodded as he pulled off his beard. “Wow is about all I can think of. Well,” he added, “That and I’m sweating.”
Nick chuckled. “Catherine, did you pick any names out yet?”
“Hey, now,” Gil stepped in before his wife answered. “Let’s not jump the gun. I mean, there are nine months ahead of us.”
"If there are any months ahead of us," Catherine said gently. "I still don't know for sure."
"Lemme see that," Gil said, reaching for the picture frame. He blinked to see a picture of himself and Lindsey in the frame -- they were sitting together at the computer in his office.
Tears came to his eyes unbidden. He halfheartedly swiped at them.
“How did she... do this?”
Warrick raised his hand. “She asked me for it a while ago, when we started all of this party talk.”
Lindsey smiled. “I remember that day.”
Gil smiled back at her. “Yeah, me, too.”
Catherine huffed. “All I remember is both of you chasing me with a spider shortly after that was taken.”
Lindsey and Gil started to laugh. Eventually, the entire team was laughing with them.
Catherine smiled. "She was so nice to do this -- I almost wish that there wasn't bad blood between us now..."
Gil nodded, understanding. "But I never --"
"You never loved her, I know," Catherine assured him.
Greg, by the stereo, was turning up the volume on something that Gil and Catherine didn’t recognize. “C’mon,” he called out. “Let’s party!”
Grissom laughed as Lindsey bounced up to dance with Greg. He looked at Catherine and saw his wife smiling, too. She beamed down at him. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “How long do you think this is going to go?”
“Losing your Christmas spirit?”
He shook his head and whispered hoarsely. “Gaining lots of it.”
"Aww," she murmured, a smile upon her lips. "We have to stay till Lindsey comes off of this sugar high of hers. You shouldn't have let her get into the sugar cookies."
"Oh yeah, blame it all on me --"
“Well, you gave her the cookies,” she continued. “Besides, no point going home now: she won’t sleep if she’s wired, and if she’s not sleeping, then we can’t... celebrate.” She patted his thigh gently. “Might as well just hang out here for a little while longer.”
He pouted. “Might as well.”
“Grissom!” Greg called out. “Stop looking so glum, Santa! You’ve got Mrs. Claus in your lap!”
Catherine muttered: “He has a point.”
“C’mon and dance with us!” Lindsey suggested.
Gil shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not a good dancer.”
Catherine told her husband: “She doesn’t let go of her schoolgirl inhibitions often, so I suggest that you take advantage of this.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Next week, she’ll make you drop her off a block away from school.”
"A mile," he corrected. "Because I'm the embarrassing, geeky stepdad --"
"Dad," she corrected.
"STEP DAD," he corrected her.
"Yeah, well, about that..." Catherine bit her lip and hemmed and hawwed for a moment.
"Oh god, you're not going to tell me that --"
“Yeah. I am.”
“So, you mean—”
She cut him off. “That night, after that case where the kid stole his father’s gun and took it to school and thought he was playing real cowboys and indians, when you cooked and we drank and... could you say something ‘cause you’re making me nervous.”
He paused and weighed his options. “When we go home, I want to talk about this with you.”
“Are you angry?”
He shook his head. “Angry? No. Shocked?” He let out a long breath. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, I just, I, uh—”
“Panicked?” She sighed and nodded. She was about to say something else, but he stopped her, placing a finger to her mouth. “I’m going to go dance with our daughter,” he spoke softly. “And, then, let’s go home.”
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
"Our daughter sounds even better," he said with a sad smile. He headed off to dance.
~*~
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked once they were home and the bedroom door was closed.
"Because I was married to Eddie, and you know how he was --"
He turned her to face him, because she started to wander around the room. “Cath.”
She sighed. “Okay. It didn’t help that I didn’t know how you’d react to having a child.”
“But—”
“And,” she pursued, “I thought we were just best friends... scratching an itch. You know?”
"Catherine, you know I'd've done anything you asked --"
"I know, and that made it worse. I knew you'd do anything for her, and -- I'm sorry. I made a lot of assumptions and -- I'm sorry." She inhaled deeply.
He reached for her. “Me, too. We wasted a lot of time,” he commented. “Just think, if—”
“Don’t remind me,” she interrupted him on a sigh. “I think about that all the time.”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he said with a curved mouth and a raised eyebrow. “I was going to say, just think if I hadn’t let Linds have all of those cookies, we could’ve been in bed by now.”
She looked at him, confused. “Gil, don’t you—”
“Just promise you won’t do it again,” he said while unfastening her costume. When Catherine tried to continue talking, he interjected: “I know you’re sorry. What’s done is done. I don’t know what to do about it... whether we should tell her, or not, whether it matters. But, I do know that I love you,” she smiled. “And, I have been waiting to get you in here ever since we left this room.”
“But—”
"And you were so damn sexy as Mrs Claus," he grumbled. "Sitting in my lap didn't help, either."
"I'm just the Cat in your lap," she joked, moaning as he snapped her bra strap against her skin. "Stop it!"
"Stop what?" He asked, grazing the skin of her shoulder with his teeth.
"Mmm -- that! Dammit, Gil," she croaked.
“Shhh,” he said after scolding her by nipping her shoulder. “Don’t want to wake Linds.”
She hummed in reply, as Gil’s mouth trailed over her upper back until it reached her other shoulder. One of his hands gripped hers, as his other hand began to wander over her newly uncovered skin. It started on her arm, but somehow managed to land on her stomach. He kissed her neck as his hand explored there. She smiled and focused on trying to stay upright.
"Having trouble with your balance?" He teased, smiling.
She tried to come up with a witty reply, but eventually croaked, "Yes..."
"Then maybe we should lie down," he suggested.
"Maybe your shirt needs to be unbuttoned a little bit..." She retorted.
“Maybe,” he grinned at her. He reached up and undid the top three. “How’s that?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Tease.”
“I learned from you,” he said, while parting his shirt to expose himself underneath. She pouted, so he undid one more. “Nope, that’s it. Show’s ov—”
Catherine had pounced on him. They landed on the bed, Cath on top, where she wanted to be; Gil looked up at her, somewhat confused. “What are you doing?”
Before he could react, she had his shirt open, her hands running over his bare skin.
He groaned and arched beneath her nimble fingers as she explored his pectoral muscles. "You are mine," she growled. "And you will do as I say."
He smirked. She hadn't forgotten how truly he loved playing submissive. "Yes, Catherine," he agreed.
She showered his face with kisses, settling on his lips last. He reached for her, wanting to caress her, but she stopped him. “Did I tell you to touch me?”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No, what?”
He answered. “No, Catherine.”
She tsk’d him, and resumed kissing what flesh she had uncovered. “You know,” she said between each kiss. “You shouldn’t forget who know belong to.”
“It won’t happen again, Catherine.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Good. However...” Gil watched her head drop again. Soon, he left her lips on his left nipple, and then, she bit down and tugged. He gasped and arched into her. “Who do you belong to?”
“You, Cath—” he sighed as she released him. “—erine.”
After continuing their game for what seemed like forever, Gil reached for her out of his role, and demanded: “Please...”
She reached down to stroke his cheeks and smiled. "You only had to ask," she whispered, guiding him near enough that she could feel his very breath upon her, hot and demanding.
Together, they moved, until she was settled and he was buried inside of her. He let one hand travel across her body, while the other stayed at her hip. She kept her hands on his chest as she leaned forward and rocked against him.
Words seemed to clutter up the moments of pleasure, but still, she could not resist whispering, "I love you, Gil..."
The concentration lines on his face vanished, and the smile he flashed made her crash headlong into ecstasy.
Soon after, he crashed with her, muttering her name and words of love over and over until the waves stopped rocking them. She collapsed on top of him, kissing his lips and then his neck as she settled. They stayed like that for a few minutes, relaxing together. Then, she shifted and slid off of him, to his side.
“I love you, Cath,” he whispered after he wrapped an arm around her so she could comfortably rest on his chest.
"I love you, too," she mumbled. "But if we have a baby, there is no way in hell you're naming it after one of your bugs."
"I was thinking Sara, actually," he teased.
She sat up and glared down at him. "That is NOT funny."
“I’m kidding, Cath.”
She pouted. “Really bad taste.”
“I know,” he agreed, bringing a hand up to rub it up and down her bare arm. “We’ll pick out a name together, and it’ll be perfect. No bugs, no crazy CSI’s, okay?”
Catherine nodded. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he replied.
"How about Antoinette?"
He wrinkled his nose. "How about not? Andrew?"
"Too boring -- it's bad enough that you and I are boring, but our baby doesn't need to be, too," she teased.
“I’m not boring,” he insisted, puffing his chest out defensively.
She rubbed her hand over his torso gently. “I know. You’re definitely not. I’m just... teasing.”
“Bad taste,” he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Okay, okay. You’re not boring.”
“How about... Olivia?”
“Ahhh...”
“Don’t like it?”
“It sounds, kind of... stuffy,” she answered. “Like she should be eating scones and having tea in a library, or something.” When he frowned, she sighed. “Gil, we don’t even know for sure if I am pregnant. We could be completely jumping the gun... or jinxing us, or something.”
He nodded. "You're probably right -- and I never thought about kids before now. It's a little scary."
"It's a lot scary," she corrected.
There was a knock on the door. "Hell," Gil muttered, grabbing the blankets and pulling them up. "Come in, Lindsey!"
"I don't feel good," Lindsey whined. "My throat's all yucky."
Catherine, with the sheet well-wrapped around her, leaned forward and asked: “Yucky, how?”
“It really hurts to swallow.”
“C’m’ere,” Gil beckoned for her with his hands. When Lindsey was close enough, he put his hands up under her jaw and felt for any swelling. Catherine watched him. He put his hands down and shrugged. “You feel fine.”
“Has it hurt much before this?”
Lindsey shrugged. “A little at the party, but I just thought it was all the laughing and shouting and stuff.”
"Get the flashlight and I'll meet you in your bathroom," Catherine instructed firmly. "And take a Tylenol while you're downstairs, okay?"
Lindsey nodded and walked off, her usual bounce not to be found in her step.
"She doesn't look like she feels very well," Gil commented.
“I know,” Catherine frowned. “She doesn’t usually complain unless it’s really bad.” She stood up and walked to her dresser, pulling out a pair of jogging pants and a tank top. As she dressed, Gil looked for something to put on. She waited for him, and together they walked to the girl’s bathroom.
Gil hung back. “I’ll wait out here. Too many cooks in the kitchen.”
She nodded, glancing at Lindsey. “We’ll only be a minute.”
A couple of minutes later, they emerged, and Catherine had her arm around Lindsey's shoulders. "Go back to bed, honey -- I'll make an appointment first thing tomorrow morning for you, okay?"
Lindsey nodded, and opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and put her hand over her neck instead.
Gil kissed the top of her head. “Wake me up if you need anything.”
She looked up at him and smiled despite the pain in her throat. When she was in her room, Catherine and Gil headed to theirs. Gil massaged her back as they walked to the bed. “She’ll be fine.”
“I know. You always worry, though.”
"Yeah, I do know that much about being a father," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Yes, you do," she agreed.
~*~
"MOM! I am not changing the baby's diaper!" Lindsey shouted.
Catherine glared at her daughter, as she tried to tidy up with her wailing son balanced on her hip. “Lindsey, please,” she tried again. “I need to get this done, and it would be such a big help if you could.”
“But, it’s gross.”
Just as she was about to lecture her daughter about helping out despite the ‘gross level’ of the task, Gil opened the front door and stepped inside, carrying his briefcase and a large bag of what appeared to be chinese food. Lindsey looked up at him and grinned, thrilled to see the take out.
He set his things down, took one look at Catherine, and held his arms out. “Here, let me.” He looked at Lindsey. “Linds, do you want to set the table?”
Lindsey smiled smugly at her mother and scampered off to get place settings.
"Gil, you didn't have to bring home dinner again," Catherine sighed.
"And you were going to cook meatloaf again?" He asked with a raised brow as baby Nathan cuddled up against him without protest, sucking on his thumb contentedly.
"No, I was going to take that chicken parmagiana I made last week out of the freezer and heat it up," she retorted, sitting back down to finish the bills. "What's the matter with my meatloaf?"
Nathan started to whimper, so Gil took that as a sign, and moved to the doorway. He stopped to kiss Catherine’s cheek as he walked past her. “Nothing’s wrong with it.”
Catherine sighed and resigned herself to paying the last two bills. When she looked up, Lindsey had set the table and was busy putting the containers of food on the table. She tidied her workspace up, and set the envelopes on the counter so she’d remember to mail them on her way out of the house.
Then, she walked down the hall to Nathan’s room. She paused in the door, leaning against its frame, smiling at the sight in front of her.
Gil was standing by the window, looking excitedly at a spider’s web that had formed in the upper right hand corner, talking to their son about arachnids. At the end of his mini-lecture, he kissed his cheek and whispered: “But, make sure you keep them away from Mommy. She really doesn’t like them.”
Nathan gurgled and reached toward the web, but Gil gently held his hand back. "Ready for supper, Sweet Pea?" Nathan stuck his fingers back in his mouth, and Gil chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."
"He's teething, so he's a little cranky," Catherine said with a sigh.
Gil turned and looked at her, love in his eyes. “I can feel his teeth poking through.”
She crossed the room and kissed his cheek the same way he kissed her earlier. He groaned. “You can do better than that.”
"Yes, I can, but I don't think it's a good idea to traumatize our son so early in life," she teased, stroking his chest.
Nathan whined and reached for his mother.
“Hey, sweetie,” she smiled at him, letting him grab her finger and pull it to his mouth, where he gummed it happily. “Yeah, we should feed him.”
“C’mon guys!” Lindsey came to the door, huffing loudly. “It doesn’t take that long to change a diaper.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know?”
Lindsey scowled and said, "Who changed his diaper while you were checking your stupid e-mail?"
"I asked you nicely," Catherine replied defensively.
"You just wanted to get out of it," Lindsey whined.
"Hey, everyone has to help while I'm on days and your mom is on nights," Gil said sharply.
Lindsey nodded, realizing that she wasn’t going to win the battle. “I know,” she pouted.
Gil responded. “You know we appreciate your help.”
Catherine smiled and voiced similar beliefs as they walked towards the kitchen: “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” When her daughter blushed, she changed the subject. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Yeah,” her voice lightened. “Definitely.”
"And thank you for watching Nate when I had to go to the grocery earlier," Catherine added for good measure. "Do you need help with your homework tonight?"
Lindsey shook her head. "It's just the usual boring stuff," she muttered, reaching for the rice with one hand and the lo mein with the other.
“How can school be boring?” Gil asked. Catherine rolled her eyes. Lindsey groaned.
“It just is.”
“Did you learn something?" Gil asked.
"Not really..." Lindsey sighed and groaned when she accidentally dumped over the soy sauce. "What's with the Spanish Inquisition?"
Catherine winked at her daughter and then replied: “It’s when the Spanish, ah, inquisited a couple of—”
“Cath!” Gil looked at her, good-natured shock and dismay written in his face.
She grinned impishly, while Lindsey giggled. Nathan cooed from Gil’s lap. “What?”
"The Spanish Inquisition is what I learned about LAST year," Lindsey pointed out.
"Well, what are you learning this year?" Gil asked.
"Absolutely nothing," Lindsey admitted.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” Lindsey looked at Gil. Then, her eyes widened: “Oh! There was something that happened today!”
Catherine and Gil both leaned forward. “What was it?”
“Mindy and her boyfriend broke up this morning, and then got back together at lunch, and then, they broke up again. It was so exciting to watch.”
Catherine stared at her. "How can something like that be exciting?"
"It just was," Lindsey said, shrugging. "She dumped cole slaw down his shirt and he threw milk at her."
“Ahhh,” Gil responded. “Fascinating.”
Catherine glanced at him. “How do you figure?”
“Dating rituals,” he shrugged, while feeding Nathan. “I find them fascinating.”
While Lindsey and her mother looked at each other with raised eyebrows, the phone rang. Gil and Nathan moved to the counter where the phone rested. He answered the phone, while the two females eavesdropped. “Hello.... hi. How’s the case— ... Oh, really? Well, I’m in the middle of supper right now. ... Yeah, he’s great. ... Alright, I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
She knew who it was the minute he said ‘hi.’ Sara Sidle. Wrapping one arm around her midsection, she picked at her food for a few minutes longer before setting her sticks down and crossing her arms. She hated that Gil still worked with Sara, consoled only by the facts that he was wearing a wedding ring, and he was extremely devoted to their family.
“She wanted to know about—”
“Ergot?”
Gil shook his head. “No. Actually, beetles. However,” he said after kissing her cheek and wrapping his free arm around her to squeeze her shoulder. “I’m not in the mood to discuss beetles.”
"Can't she call at normal hours?" Catherine mumbled.
"Hey, come on -- we've all got to give and take here," Gil said gently. "You know that you and I can't work on the same shift and she and Ecklie can't either..."
Catherine pushed her food around with her chopsticks and viciously speared a piece of chicken without saying a word.
“Yes, but Ecklie doesn’t call me at home... thank goodness for that,” she added on a sigh. Gil chuckled. She shook her head and continued to think out loud. “You know, it’s really weird that those two hit it off.”
Gil nodded in agreement. “I never would’ve seen it.”
“Ecklie...” Lindsey spoke up after watching her parents talk. “That’s the scary guy?” Catherine nodded. “Ohhh, he was the one that saved her from my fists of fury.”
Gil smothered a chuckle. Catherine nodded. “Yes, that would be him.”
“Soooo... Sara liked Gil, and then she fell in love with this scary guy.” They both nodded. “But, Gil’s not scary.”
"No, he's not," Catherine said with a smile. "But I guess different strokes for different folks."
Lindsey made a face. "Can I be excused? I need to go call Marjorie."
"You just saw her at school!" Gil exclaimed.
"Yeah, but I forgot to tell her about the --"
"You're excused," Catherine said. "As long as you show Gil your finished homework before you go to bed." She leaned over and kissed Nathan's forehead as he gummed some Cheerios to death, then kissed Gil. "I've got to split -- see you later."
She turned to move away, but Gil clamped his hand onto her arm. Catherine grinned, and settled her hands down onto his shoulders, bending down to kiss him more thoroughly. He sighed softly as she lifted her head up. “Wake me up when you get back, okay?”
"I will," she promised with a smile. "Be sure he's down by seven-thirty -- there's kids Tylenol in the cupboard if he needs it."
"Okay," Gil agreed readily.
She left momentarily to wash her hands, and when she came back carrying her leather bag and coat, she waved to him. “I’ll see you at the end of shift.”
“I hope you catch the bad guys,” he smiled.
"If I can't, you know I'll call you," she promised, leaning down to kiss him once more. "I love you."
"I love you, too..."
"AMAMA!" Nathan shrieked, holding his hands out to his mother.
She bent down lower and showered Nathan’s face with light kisses. While she made their son giggle and coo, Gil nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply into her hair. She continued to speak in baby talk, while making cute faces at the baby; however, her words were clearly directed at her husband: “If you don’t stop doing that...”
He chuckled and let her walk away, silently hoping she didn’t have to work any overtime.
~*~
Catherine turned in her paperwork and stifled a yawn. She wanted nothing more than to go home and kiss her baby good morning -- and she wasn't just talking about Nathan in that regard, either.
"Can I talk to you a minute?" Nick asked, startling her.
"Sure --"
"Have you noticed that Ecklie's a lot nicer lately?"
She grunted, unable to comprehend why Nick was preventing her from going home. “Ah, yeah. You two playing nice?”
“Really nice,” Nick replied. “I mean, not really nice in the sense that we’re—”
Catherine cut him some slack and smiled. “I know what you mean. Maybe we’re just rubbing off on him.” She didn’t want to uncover the relationship between Ecklie and Sara—it was their romance, and they could choose when to let their friends and coworkers know.
When he hovered a bit longer, she turned and said, "Nick, I've got to go home."
"Okay -- I was just wondering if someone thought he was good enough looking to get laid."
Cath flinched. "Nick, please -- do I need to projectile vomit?"
Nick grinned and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
She chuckled, sensing the conversation was ending. “And no more ma’am’s,” she pretended to sound cross. She grinned despite her exhaustion and said: “See you tomorrow night.”
“Say hi to Gris and the kids for me.”
“Oh, I will.”
~*~
Gil felt a cool breeze move around him and the hot water stream, but didn’t see anything so he continued to wash his hair. After a couple of minutes, he heard the shower door open, but he decided not to move. He was rewarded with an abundance of kisses over his back.
“Hey, Cath.”
“Hey,” she responded. “I didn’t get to wake you up.”
“Your son got hungry earlier than usual today.”
“Ahhh. Sorry to hear that. Sounds like he has someone’s impatience.”
As she wrapped his arms around him, he protested: “Hey! I’m not impatient!”
“Well, maybe demanding. Definitely demanding,” she reasoned. “But, I love it.” She was silent for a couple minutes, as her hands explored his wet skin, but then she exclaimed: “Oh, Nick says hi.”
"Mmm... okay." Gil rolled his eyes. "Enough work, let's play -- I haven't made love to you in three weeks."
"I know," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the water streams. "I love you."
He turned around in her arms, so he could look down at her. “I love you, too,” he said, dropping a kiss onto her lips, wrapping his own arms around her. His hands gripped her, pulling her closer to him.
“Let’s stop the talking,” she grinned between kisses.
Water streamed over them, making their bodies slick and wet, enticing them closer still.
"Mrs. Grissom, do you think it's time to make a new little Grissom?" Gil asked with a smile.
"Over my dead body," Catherine interjected. "You didn't have to deal with a breech birth," she growled, nibbling on his collarbone.
He chuckled, vibrations tickling her through his body. Her lips traveled from his collarbone, to his shoulder, where she nipped him. He gasped, but didn’t lose his focus; his hand started moving from her waist, to her hip, grazing across her belly before traveling even lower.
Catherine shivered and fell backwards a bit, granting him the access he desired, while she continued to grip his shoulders for support.
"This is fun," Gil said with a smile.
"Oh, just fuck me already," Catherine panted.
"You are so rude today," he hissed.
"Fuck me, please," she pleaded.
Before she could beg anymore, he managed to move her against the wall, using the tile to hold her as he lifted her up. He grunted and she sighed as he lowered her onto him; she flung her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to scattered places they could discover.
“God, Gil...”
"Maybe we should get down into the tub," Gil suggested. The combined force of their bodies was making him slip and slide in the bottom of the tub and he was sure that as soon as he started thrusting, they'd both wind up with cracked bones.
"'Kay," she agreed in little more than a moan.
She was relieved to feel the solid support of the tub under her knees after they repositioned themselves, Gil on the bottom, Catherine on top. His hands guided her from her waist, helping her rock back and forth.
Heat coursed through them, dizzily sending them on a trip into passion's depths, and Catherine cried out first with release, her explosion triggering Gil's.
"Mom, Nathan's feverish," Lindsey said, barely poking her head into he bathroom.
"I'll... be there... in a minute," Catherine panted.
Gil chuckled softly after he caught his breath. “Never any peace here, is there?” She shook her head and groaned softly; she kissed him before getting up.
“He was doing so much better,” she murmured as she opened the shower door, and reached for a towel. After she got out and wrapped up, she handed one to him. “Here, you should get ready for work.”
"Tomorrow is my day off," he said, toweling off his hair and letting the rest of him drip.
"Mine, too -- which means we can go grocery shopping," Catherine said firmly.
“Mmmmm... can we buy some of that Rediwhip?”
She swatted him with her towel after she slipped into her robe. “Stop that, buster. You’ve got a job, and I’ve got a son to deal with.”
He grabbed her towel and tugged her into his arms. “You have to pay the toll.”
She giggled and kissed him, and then walked past him to where Lindsey was waiting with Nathan.
Nathan was curled up in his sister's arms, his face buried in her shoulder, two fingers stuck in his mouth.
"Come here, darling," Catherine murmured, reaching for her son. The towel slipped and Lindsey cringed, then left the room quickly as Catherine hurried over to the bed to lay the clingy baby onto its feathery comfort. He whimpered, then burst into tears, but Catherine rushed around the room, getting a night shirt and panties on lickety-split. Then he was in her arms again, settling down as she held him and they both had drifted off to sleep by the time Gil left for work.
~*~
Catherine woke up to feel a void in her arms. Panicked, she bolted upright and looked around the room. The sun was still shining, but the streets were quiet. Gil was sitting in the armchair in the corner of their room, rocking Nathan back and forth.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “He was fussing, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled back at him. “I appreciate it.” She stood up and walked to them. “How’s he doing now?”
Gil smiled. “I don’t think he has a fever any more.”
Catherine picked him up and checked his skin, which felt cooler than before. “Yeah. How’d work go?”
“It was alright,” he replied. “A slow night, so I handed the reins to Sara, and told her I wanted to go home and check on my son.” He adjusted his position and opened his arms. “Sit for a second?”
"Okay," she agreed, moving to sit on his lap. She put her head on his shoulder and yawned, looking over at her sleeping son.
"Did you know about Sara and Ecklie getting engaged?" Gil asked.
Catherine sighed. "Yes."
"Good. Now you know that I'm no longer fair game, right?"
"You never were fair game. And I'm the Cat in your lap, always," she promised, closing her eyes and going back to sleep. The End!