Gil left Sara feeling odd. Her words got to him, but not in the way he imagined she had planned. The guilt that had been eating at his insides since the meeting between he, Catherine, and Robert was still hungry, and there wasn’t much left to eat; he knew he should’ve gone after her, but he didn’t know what to say or do. He knew, like Sara had said, that when he finally figured it out, it was too late. She had already gone, and he wouldn’t see her for five long, miserable days.
He paused, on his way to his car, to check the locker room, on a weak hope that maybe she had hung around waiting for him. He knew better, though, and wasn’t surprised to see her locker nearly empty; she had taken a lot of the things she left at the office, leaving a picture and an envelope tacked to the inside of her door.
His name was written on the plain white pocket. He noticed that it was her hand writing; he noticed that she called him Gil, instead of Grissom; he noticed that the thin lines of the pen wavered.
After opening it, he read it aloud, under his breath: “Gil: I can’t face you right now, but I am sorry. Love, Catherine.” He glanced at the picture; it was one of Gil and Catherine, taken by Greg one long morning when they had to work a double shift. It was before his hearing problems divided him from everyone that mattered to him. She was resting on his shoulder, snoozing, while he tried to finish a crossword puzzle. He smiled sadly, remembering how electrifying it had been to have her choose him for her pillow; there hadn’t been any way he would’ve slept, he didn’t want to miss any of it.
Gingerly, he folded it and put the paper back into the envelope, tucking it in his coat. He put the picture there, too. He felt the doctor’s card in his pocket, but knew it wasn’t as important as Catherine; he wanted to be there for her.
He hoped it wasn’t too late.
Without a word to anyone, he walked down the hall, trying to keep his gait in check. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene or worry, but his body kept rushing him. He saw Sara talking to Brass, but he didn’t pay them any attention; his first goal was to reach his Tahoe.
Once inside, he turned the key in the ignition and took off towards Catherine’s. When he was halfway there, the dark skies finally opened and the rain started to fall in heavy sheets. He grimaced, and turned his wipers on; he found himself worrying about her, wondering what she was doing, if she was okay.
The trip was short. He pulled into her driveway and raced to the door, hoping to not get wet. He stopped short on the third step, a reaction to the lightening flash and to the sight behind the screen door.
”Lindsay?”
The blonde was there. She looked a little older, moreso in the eyes than anywhere else. There was a scratch above her right cheek that looked like it was from a punch. He wondered what had happened; he and Catherine used to talk about Lindsay all the time, and now he seemed very much on the outside of things. He frowned briefly, wondering about what else he had missed.
“Uncle Gil,” she opened the door. “Mommy won’t come inside.”
His heart tightened. “What do you mean?”
Lindsay started to explain, her eyes refilling with tears, spilling onto her already damp cheeks. “She called me earlier saying she was coming from work, and she wanted to stop in and see Greg. When she came home, I was in bed, but I heard her go out on the deck... I missed her, and wanted to see her...” she sighed. “She was just sitting there, not moving, not saying anything. She wouldn’t answer me. It started to rain, and she just sat there.” Her lower lip trembled. “It’s really wet out, and there’s thunder... and I’m worried.”
Gil, before realizing what he was doing, opened his arms and allowed the girl to rush to him. He hugged her, rocked her back and forth, and whispered in her ear that he would take care of her mother. They pulled back a little, and he kissed her forehead. She seemed to calm down. “How about I tuck you into bed?”
She frowned. “What if something’s wrong with Mom?”
“If there is,” he vowed. “I’ll come get you. But, I know she had a really hard time at work, with the explosion and everything, and she’s probably just upset because of that.”
“Promise you’ll come get me?”
He nodded, picking the girl up in a smooth sweeping motion. “I promise.”
In her room, he folded the covers around her, and wished her a goodnight’s sleep. Lindsay, in return, told him to take good care of Catherine. He shut the lights off, and closed the door, before he rushed back to the sliding doors that lead to the small deck his dear friend loved so much.
The rain was still pouring, and he saw a few scattered flashes of light; as he moved his eyes upwards, to the end of the wooden structure, he came across Catherine. He frowned and felt his stomach turn.
She was soaked, sitting on the steps that went downwards into the lawn. Her knees were drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t read the expression on her face. He didn’t see her shoulders shaking, leading him to believe that she wasn’t crying.
Quietly, he opened the door and stepped outside. “Cath?”
No response.
He took a couple more steps, so that he was only a couple feet away from her. She didn’t move, she didn’t speak; the only reason he knew she was still alive was because he could make out the expansion of her ribcage with each breath she took.
When he put his hand on her shoulder, she didn’t move. He stepped in front of her, and sat on the stairs below her, looking up at her. Her eyes didn’t refocus on him; she kept staring out into the dark yard.
He sighed and cupped her cheek with his damp hand. “Cath, I’m so sorry....”
~*~
She knew that she couldn’t look at him. It was too much for her to do; she didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. She could barely stand the feelings of disappointment in herself.
Going to tell Greg the truth had been the right thing. She knew that, and knew that she was on her way to righting the great wrong she had created. It still wasn’t easy, and it didn’t make her feel like a good person. Greg looked up at her and told her that he had known what the cause had been; he had been trying to protect her. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t; instead, she held his hand and told him how sorry she was, how awful she felt, how she wished she could’ve been smarter. Greg simply shrugged and told her that she wasn’t allowed to blow his lab up anymore; if she did, he declared, she would have to buy him a new one. He wasn’t angry with her, and that almost made it worse.
Catherine had driven home, not paying attention to the radio, the traffic, or anything else, for that matter. When she got home, she paid the nanny and she left. Being cooped up inside was driving her crazy, and when she got outside, she sat down, and she felt herself shut down.
It was easier than trying to relieve herself of all the negative emotions swirling inside of her.
She heard her daughter cry out to her, but she had been afraid. She felt as though she was failing as a mother, on top of failing as a CSI. It had been too much; she didn’t want to face Lindsay, she didn’t want to face her shortcomings.
Gil’s arrival was unexpected. She thought he’d be out eating with Sara, according to what she had heard the brunette ask him as she rushed out of the building with her belongings. She wanted to hear his answer, but she figured it would be an acceptance. It seemed fitting that while she was failing at work and at home, she should also lose the man she wanted to give her heart to.
Catherine felt him touch her cheek, and fought the urge to swallow her fears, which were shaped as a large lump in her throat.
“Cath,” he whispered softly. “I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t say anything; she didn’t want him there. Facing him would be one of the hardest things she had ever done. Her eyes stayed focused on the darkness beyond them, while the rain dripped on her, keeping her and her clothes thoroughly saturated.
Gil, to her amazement, kept talking: “I didn’t mean to shut you out... it just, I just... ohhh geez... I wanted to make it easier on everyone, I thought that if I just didn’t collect evidence anymore, then I could start slipping out of the way, and before anyone realized, I’d be gone.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. Not only could I not hear you half of the time, but apparently, I couldn’t see you half of the time, either.”
Catherine’s heart broke; he finally told her in little detail what she had suspected for some time.
He continued: “Let me make it up to you... I know I’ve been such a lousy friend, but I love you, Catherine... I don’t know what to tell you, except, I love you.”
Before she could control her voice, she could hear it. “I’ve been out here since I got back from seeing Greg. I want to cry, and I can’t. It’s driving me crazy.”
She heard him chuckle, but she couldn’t bring her eyes down to face him. “Look at me, Cath... please.” For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, but was only a couple of hours, she moved her head; she pressed her forehead to her wet knees and took a deep breath. “Wrong way.”
Fear pounded in her chest. Eventually, since she had broken the silence, she knew she’d have to move and talk to him. Lindsay must be worried sick, and for that, she felt even worse.
Gil, surprising her, sat next to her, their thighs touching; he wrapped his arms around her shoulders—from the front and from the back—and put his head against hers.
In that position, Catherine finally found the strength to cry.
~*~
“Come inside,” he urged, after she quieted down, after the last few sobs escaped her mouth. “You’re soaked... it can’t be good for you.”
She looked up, finally, at him. Even under the wetness of the rain, she could smell him. He smelled so good; he reminded her of sensations like safety and trust and....
“Catherine?”
She had started to cry again. “God, Gil...” She felt her arms reciprocate the embrace, while she ducked her head away; reaching out felt wonderful, despite feelings that she didn’t deserve it. “I can’t believe I didn’t check the burner... I could’ve killed Greg, and Sara... I... oh, God... I’ve been such a lousy friend, scientist, mother...” She choked on a sob when he moved one arm to caress her hot cheeks. “Why are you even here?”
“Catherine,” he kissed her forehead. “You are too important to me. I meant to follow you out of Robert’s but he called me back. By then... it was too late. I... I don’t want it to be too late.”
She chuckled bitterly. “I blew up the DNA Lab. I’d say it’s a couple county lines over from punctual.”
“Well,” he countered, moving them so she could look up at him if she wanted to; however, she was still very afraid to look up and see him. She was afraid she’d turn him to stone. “I’m late for some of this. I intend to help you get back on track though.” She felt his lips against her wet head and she wished she could lose herself in him, in the sense she desired. After the latest event, though, she doubted it would ever happen. “I messed up, too.”
“Ha,” she muttered against him. “I’ve got you beat, there, buddy.”
“Cath,” he gripped her; she felt the intensity in his touch and shivered. “Who is responsible for noticing changes in his staff? Me. Who is responsible for looking out for his best friend? Me, again.”
“It’s not your fault,” she responded, her voice soft. “You didn’t put the....” She choked on a sob, and tucked her face into his chest.
He nuzzled against her. She heard him inhale deeply when his nose was buried in her soaked hair. “Take a deep breath, Catherine.”
“It’s not going to fix my problems.” She argued, but took the breath anyway. Her stomach unclenched.
He whispered: “Just remember, that the world isn’t going to end.”
“I wish it would. I’ve screwed up everything I’ve worked hard for. I’m so embarrassed. If I even get my job back...”
He squeezed her. “The county isn’t stupid. You’re one of the best.”
“Not anymore...”
~*~
“Not anymore...” Her voice sounded so hollow. He couldn’t believe how different Catherine was, and he hadn’t noticed. Guilt wracked him.
“You believe that?” When she fell into silence, he felt his pulse quicken. “Catherine! You are the strongest CSI I’ve ever come across... not just for a woman... for a person. You are smart, quick, and you so what if you slipped up?” He tried to lift her chin so he could look into her eyes, but she turned away, her wet skin slipping out of his wet hands. “You’re human. One of the things I love about you the most! It was a wake-up call, warning you that things have to change,” he sighed. “Let me help you.”
Her eyes snapped to his. He saw the hurt, the loss, the loneliness—combined with a fury he rarely saw. “Let you help me—what, Gil? Raise my daughter? Be a father figure for her? Bring her peace of mind after the ordeal she went through, how about? Be available for parent-teacher conferences when she gets into fights, or lighten my workload so I can go, and be a real mother?” She bit back a bitter laugh. “How are you going to help me, Gil—”
He knew there was a chance his actions might seem selfish, but he couldn’t resist. He pressed his lips to hers, while he tightened his grip on her. She gasped in surprise, and his baser instincts kicked in as he deepened the kiss. He heard distant thunder rolling behind them. The rainstorm was far away, while another type of storm brewed between them. His tongue slipped between her parted lips and intended to surprise her even more; however, when he met her tongue, he was shocked and pleased to find her returning the intimate gesture.
Catherine pulled back first. He saw how puffy her lips were and how dark her eyes were, and found himself wanting to smile, knowing that he put that expression on her face. She raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s how you’re going to help me.”
He shrugged. “If you’d let me.”
She bit her lip nervously, but kept her hands on him. It gave him hope, despite what her words were implying. “Gil, I appreciate it, but, I think that it’s best that I keep to myself tonight.”
“Why?”
Her lips curved into a half-smile; he was relieved she still knew how to look amused. It proved that she would again be able to be happy, and to grin the way she always did when he cheered her up. “I might want to take shelter in you tonight, but it would be wrong.”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes, droplets of water falling from her lashes. “You’re just like Lindsay sometimes. All the why’s and what for’s.”
“She was really worried about you.”
Catherine sighed. “I couldn’t face her. I felt like... a crappy mother.”
“You aren’t.”
“I could’ve killed Gre—”
He kissed her again, as it had been the only successful method of shutting her up that he had discovered, so far. This embrace was much more exploratory; he probed her mouth delicately with his tongue, pausing once and a while to suck on her lower lip gently. This time, she moaned, her head falling back into the hand that cradled her. He left her mouth, feeling brave enough to investigate the skin under her chin and along her jaw.
“Gil?”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “Yes, Catherine?”
“Are you just kissing me to shut me up?”
He smirked. “Maybe.” She was about to say something, but he cut her off. “But, that isn’t the only reason why I want to kiss you.”
“Oh.”
“Besides,” he winked. “You kissed back.” She huffed softly and turned away. He reached for her and was pleased when she didn’t slip out of his arms. “Where did you just go there?”
She let her head fall against him. “One of us could get hurt...” She curled into him. “I don’t want to... disappoint you even more, or lose you... I don’t think I could handle it.”
He rocked her back and forth. “You’re never going to lose me. And,” he added, after kissing her wet temple. “I’ve disappointed you, too, so we’ve both got some making up to do.”
Catherine took a deep breath and lifted her head. She looked less lost, Gil thought, which was a start. He watched her emotions flicker across her face as a lightening bolt lit up the horizon. Thunder crashed with it, almost too soft for him to notice. “You have to get out of those clothes. They’re soaked.”
“I didn’t notice,” he shrugged with a smile. She let out a strangled laugh, as the last of her tears fell from her eyes with a couple stray sobs. He rubbed her back. “Are we going to go inside?”
She nodded. “I should go kiss Lindsay goodnight.”
“After you get out of those,” he said, tugging at her dark jacket. He stood up first and gave her his hand. She slid her shaking fingers into his, and let him pull her up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, anchoring her to him. Part of him still feared that she would run back to her spot on the deck; but that fear evaporated when she opened the sliding door and pulled him inside.
~*~
Catherine told him to stay on the rug by the door, and that she would go get him a towel. With a smile, he nodded, waiting for her to return. She rushed through the house, trying not to drip all over her carpets; when she reached her bathroom, she grabbed two of the fluffiest bath towels she could find, wrapping herself in one, and heading back out to Gil.
She paused by Lindsay’s door, and decided to go in. When she cracked the door open, she heard her daughter’s soft whisper. “Mommy?”
“Hey, Baby,” she smiled, tightening her grip on the towel before she walked in. “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier.”
“Are you alright?”
Catherine leaned over her reclined form and kissed her forehead. “I’m okay. Gil’s taking care of me.”
“Good,” Lindsay smiled, wiping at the wet mark Catherine left on her. “I told him to.”
“You did?” She smiled. “Well, I think we’re going to stay up and talk for a while. Do you mind if he stays here tonight?”
Her daughter smiled after yawning. “Nope. You two have fun. Will you drive me to school in the morning?”
“I will,” she promised. “Good night, Sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Catherine closed the door and smiled. Then, she headed back to Gil, who she found still waiting by the sliding doors. “Here,” she said, handing him the towel. “I might have a pair of your pajamas still lying around from the old days, if you want to put those clothes in the dryer....”
He nodded. After rubbing the towel through his hair and over his chest and shoulders, he reached for her. She couldn’t resist, knowing what her mind and body needed, knowing that she wasn’t strong enough to deny herself such pleasure. She let him wrap his damp arms around her; she sighed when she felt him press his lips against her unruly, damp curls.
“Gil...” She sighed and looked up at him. She didn’t doubt how she felt about this man, her best friend, but she doubted the circumstances that were bringing them together. “Maybe this isn’t the best thing for us.”
“Maybe it is,” he countered softly, kissing a spot behind her ear. She felt herself shiver. “But, if you’re having doubts, I can g—”
“No,” she cut him off, tugging on his wet shirt. “Don’t go. Please.” The thought of feeling so alone again didn’t appeal to her. “I—” She stopped short and furrowed her brow, the words getting stuck in her throat. He smiled and rubbed her cheek gently. She tried again. “I need you here, tonight. Please.”
He nodded, kissing her lips chastely. When he pulled away, she licked her lips and smiled. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes, Cath.”
She gave in wordlessly, pulling him to her small laundry room. She tossed her towel onto the counter, and he followed her lead. She sat back and watched him unbutton his shirt; her pulse was racing, despite the several deep breaths she took. Water ran down in tiny trails down his chest, ending at the waistband of his pants.
“Catherine?” He smiled, meeting her appreciative gaze.
“Sorry,” she blushed and turned away. He reached for her face, turning her back. She could see the emotions in his eyes, and blushed a deeper shade of pink. “Stop doing that,” she swatted at him, connecting with his bare arm.
He chuckled. “Stop doing what?”
“Making me blush,” she answered softly, turning away from him a little so she could take her pants off. She tossed the pants into the dryer, and added a static sheet. “Want me to throw yours in?”
Gil passed her his shirt and started to unbutton his trousers. Catherine, still blushing, turned away and shrugged out of her jacket. She heard Gil move behind her and put his pants in the dryer, pausing only to take the jacket out of her hands to add it to the collection of wet clothes.
His hands returned to her waist, while he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, still encased in wet fabric. She swayed into him, letting her arms hang back to grant him access to her buttons. Slowly, he opened her blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. The skin he exposed felt like it was burning, tingling from passion. When she was free, he left her briefly to toss it into the dryer and turn it on.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered into her ear as he held her to his body from behind.
~*~
Gil let his hands expand over her damp flesh. He heard her sigh and with that as his permission, he started kissing the skin her shirt had been hiding. He could feel her shiver during his exploration; he, himself, was trying to control such reactions. He didn’t want to give in; he knew he had needs, but he wanted to take care of hers first.
Gently, he pulled her hair off the back of her neck, so he could lavish the hidden skin with affection. When he was done there, he let her wet hair fall back against her neck and he moved on. His hands moved down, over her shoulders and arms, and then to her stomach. Under her smooth skin, he felt her stomach muscles contract at the touch.
His hands traveled upwards to the lace bra and the creamy flesh encased in each cup. He smirked when she arched her back, filling his hands with her breasts. She sighed when his hands slid up the straps of the bra, and fell in the back to fiddle with the clasp.
She chuckled after a few seconds into his struggle. “Gil, you’re even facing it.”
“Oh, hush,” he playfully bit her shoulder to scold her. “It’s been a while.”
She turned to face him. He had already started blushing after making that confession. “Me, too,” she simply said. She reached around and undid the clasp for him, shimmying out of her blue lace. He gasped at the new sight; she smiled and put his hand on her, which made him gasp again. “Too fast?”
As Gil swallowed a lump in his throat, emotional sentiments he wanted to push away until later, he shook his head. “No... I, uh... I just...” He smiled and shook his head. “You’re beautiful.”
Catherine smirked. He was so pleased to see her loosening up. “You don’t need to compliment me, Gil.”
“Yes,” he argued, “I do. You deserve it. Besides,” he added, squeezing a moan from her with a gentle touch. “It’s not a lie.”
He heard her breath catching in her throat. She shook her head a little, as if shaking a thought from her head, and then she spoke: “I don’t think I can wait anymore.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, almost hanging from him if it wasn’t for being carefully balanced on the balls of her feet.
Gil lost his sense of control when she started kissing his lips and neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s Apple. She moaned and the vibrations caused his knees to buckle a little. “Cath, honey... we don’t need to rush this.”
“I’m scared this is a dream,” she admitted, pulling back from his flesh. “I’m scared that if I take too long, I’ll wake up halfway through, and you’ll be—”
He cut her off with a kiss, not wanting her to finish that sentence, for either of their sakes. His arms went around her, pulling her to him. She slid up, onto the tips of her toes to sway precariously in his embrace. Then, she slid back down. The friction was unbearable.
They kissed and moved around the room until he had Catherine pinned against the moving dryer. She chuckled softly. “The vibrations...”
“Good ones?” He joked, while letting his hands slip from her torso to hook into her underwear. Slowly, he dipped down, taking the blue swatch of fabric down with him. She stepped out of them and surprisingly jumped up on top of the dryer.
“Your turn,” she said, lifting a foot to the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
He lifted a hand. “One minute.”
He felt her eyes on him as he walked to the door and locked it. She nodded, and then opened her arms to him. After two devastating kisses, he pulled back and removed the last piece of clothing that kept them apart.
She snaked her hands down from his chest to his throbbing erection. He groaned when she squeezed him, and tried to swat her away; Catherine, however, was persistent, and won a few minutes of exploration time for herself.
He wasn’t surprised at the frenzied state he found himself in by the time she slowed to a stop. “God, Cath...” He whispered into her hair, gripping her by the shoulders.
“I need you,” she whispered hungrily.
It wasn’t the sentence he wanted to hear, but he knew it would come later. He could feel her love, and didn’t need to hear it vocalized. When she was ready, he knew, she would tell him. He hoped that he’d be able to hear it.
“On the dryer?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Let it do the work for us,” she smirked, pulling herself to the edge of the appliance.
He leaned back a little and took the vision in front of him in. Her eyes were still red from crying, but the despair wasn’t as evident as it had been. Lust and love were shining in her eyes. Her chest heaved as her body struggled to keep oxygen pumping through her system. She smelled so good.
Catherine pulled him close with her legs; he took that, and her kisses and nibbles to his shoulder, as his cue. Tentatively, he brushed a finger across her heated center; her moans told him to be more certain, so he returned, stroking the tiny bundle of nerve endings in a circular fashion. She shuddered and whispered his name, while watching him with half-shut eyes. Growing bolder, he slipped a finger insider her core, watching the pleasure dance across her face.
When he withdrew from her, she growled. He knew what she meant, and instead of apologizing, he kissed her. Catherine, in response, wrapped her arms around him and kissed back. She stroked his mouth to ecstasy; he lost himself in the kiss.
He arched against her when her nails scratched his back. She moaned when he rolled his thumbs over her hardened nipples.
“Now,” she demanded. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, he saw a frustrated woman. She growled when he teased her with his finger again, the strangled noise making him smile. He eased himself just barely inside her, guiding his erection into her inch by inch, until she put her hands on his ass and pushed him all the way inside. “Too slow,” she shrugged, bringing her lips onto his as their movements increased in speed.
Catherine lifted her knees to facilitate easier movements. They worked together, sweat covering their bodies in a shiny sheen. Her punctuated gasps matched his long pulls for much-needed air. His hands held her writhing form while her hands scratched and squeezed him closer to her.
Her head fell back, supported by one of his hands, as she let a low, lusty moan escape her swollen lips. She started to babble; at first she made sense, but as he increased their tempo, the phrases become incoherent. He could feel her inner muscles clench and shudder around her, signaling an end for her. He continued his ministrations on her body and waited until her entire body tensed.
Gil had never seen anything more exquisite. Catherine cried out as he pushed her up and over the edge, her form shaking in his. Her release and her beauty pushed him to lose control; he groaned and buried himself into her shoulder while the staccato spasms took over his body.
He felt her kiss his shoulder. Then, she whispered: “I love you, Gil.”
~*~
She knew that he knew she loved him, but admitting those feelings herself seemed like the hardest thing to do, especially after disappointing him so much. She watched him lift his head and smile. Handsome enough to take her breath away, she knew that she had always loved him. That made the past couple of days even harder.
“I know,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.
Before Catherine could control it, she was crying again. This time, the tears were the cause of a mixture of emotions: joy and sadness. Gil didn’t say anything. Instead, he kissed as many of the tears away as he could, and then wrapped her up in a towel.
She watched him pull away and wrap himself in a towel, too. He opened his arms and somehow managed to pick her up. Catherine pressed her face into his shoulder and worked on regaining control of her emotions.
When he set her down in her bedroom, she watched him look for something she could put on. Gil Grissom would always be a mystery to her, she knew; they had already seen each other naked, so she didn’t understand why he’d want to cover their bodies up again.
“In case Lindsay comes in,” he explained before she even asked the question. “Something tells me you don’t want to—”
Catherine smiled up at him through her tears, taking the oversized t-shirt from him. “I will, though, when the timing’s better.”
“I know,” he nodded, after finding the pajamas she was talking about. She watched him get dressed, paying attention to the muscles that moved and flexed under his flushed skin. He looked up from tying the knot on his pants and looked back at her. She knew how she looked, still naked, ruffled from their desire, holding onto the shirt, while staring up at him with a dazed look on her face. “Are you okay?”
She smiled slowly. “I will be.”
He let out a sigh of relief and smiled back at her. “Good. Now, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to get dressed.”
She nodded. “I know. I just got caught up...” She trailed off and slipped the large grey t-shirt over her head. “Better?”
His lips curved into a seductive smile; she felt her body heat up again. “Well, no, but, it’ll have to do for now.” Gil walked around behind her and started turning her duvet cover down. “You really need some sleep.”
“You’re not going to disappear, are you?” Catherine asked delicately while slipping into her side of the bed. Gil joined her after turning the lights out. She sighed when he put himself directly behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
“No,” he told her after pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Catherine huffed, as she finally felt sleep wash over her for the first time in a long time.
~*~
Gil woke up to feel someone showering his face with fragile kisses. He opened his eyes and saw that the room was still dark, which meant they had only been sleeping for no more than a couple hours. “Cath? Are you okay?”
She slid a hand from his shoulder, into his pants. He gasped and arched towards her. “Cath...” he tried to reason with her. “You really need sleep.”
Catherine pouted. “I really need you.”
He was touched, and unable to turn her away. He captured her lower lip in his mouth and sucked gently. She moaned, while her hands reached for the drawstring to untie the knot. He chuckled. “Cath... I’m an old man... maybe you should let me have some rest.”
“But, I’m—”
“You have time to recuperate.”
She sighed softly. “Sure, bring that up again.” Then, she added, as an afterthought: “You could always take the day off and recover with me...”
“Like any recovering will happen in that scenario,” they both chuckled as he admitted the truth. Then, he said something that surprised them both: “I’ll call in tomorrow, hand the shift to someone.”
Catherine’s eyes lit up. He could see them sparkling, even in the dark. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, leaning across the pillow to kiss her lips. “I told you I’d be here to help you. I wasn’t lying...”
“I know,” she said, kissing him again. She lifted her head and propped herself up on her elbow. “Tomorrow... can we talk about your hearing problems?”
He nodded, knowing that after mentioning it almost too casually they’d have to go back and discuss it—in addition to her problems. He noticed how she didn’t seem fazed at all by his news, and wondered if she suspected the problem for some time. He didn’t ask though; her lips were on his, her tongue sweeping over his, while her hands grabbed at the clothing that hid his body from her touch.
He couldn’t hear the rain anymore; the storm outside must’ve died down, but it had no effect on the storm between them. Gil chuckled softly into her mouth, and slowly allowed their love and desire to consume him.
The End!
