Natural Progressions

Disclaimer: Mine no! CBS, Anthony Zuiker et al Yes! Pity :o( "Honey, I'm Home" belongs to Shania Twain.
Author's Note: Blame Billy, Marg and Shania for these little pieces. They keep Acting these out in my head! Have only seen up to LHB so don't Know how accurate I am on some things so please be kind!
Dedication: To Aby as always and you certainly know why girl! To VividlyBlue for Reading all my crap no matter how bad or sick! LOL


Chapter 16: Honey, I'm Home

The graveyard shift sat in stunned silence as a dishevelled Catherine Willows stormed out of the break room, assignment slip in hand. A few seconds later Nick Stokes scurried after her remembering he was her partner tonight and ruing the fact that he was.

"What was that all about?" Sara asked looking from Warrick to her boss for an explanation.

From the shocked look on Grissom's face and the venom in Catherine's retort there was clearly trouble in paradise, but it was just as obvious that Gil Grissom hadn't a clue what he'd done wrong. The first words out his mouth confirmed it, "I... I don't know?" he stammered, "I just tried to make a joke out of her being late tonight," he added sheepishly, "I guess she had to call the Autoclub."

They'd all noticed Catherine's tardiness but no one had worried about it, she wasn't always the most punctual of people. Tonight, however, seemed more serious but no one knew why?

The car won't start -it's falling apart
I was late for work and the boss got smart
My pantyline shows -got a run in my hose
My hair went flat -man, I hate that (hate that)

Trying to get a difficult evening back on track, Grissom told Warrick he had a special assignment for him and sent Sara on to her crime scene telling her he'd join her directly.

Once the two men were alone in the break room, Warrick could see how truly out of sorts the older man was but he was still caught off guard when Grissom handed him a videocassette.

"I need you to try and find something on this tape that establishes the date and time the action took place, I..." Grissom hesitated and his face coloured with embarrassment. He looked at the tape, at the clock and sighing finally back to Warrick. "Someone's trying to blackmail me."

Warrick stared at his boss. How could someone possibly have anything on Gil Grissom, the man was the nearest thing to a boy scout that Warrick had ever met? Before he could ask, Grissom continued.

"They're saying I slept with a suspect and that tape is their proof."

Astonished, Warrick stood perfectly still for a few moments as if paralysed. Blinking rapidly he finally found his voice, "Which case does it involve?"

The graveyard shift supervisor had never been more grateful for the younger man's professionalism than he was right now. The only other person he would have trusted with this was Catherine, and after her actions tonight he was no longer sure what she would do. "The two gigolos and the wife killed by the submissive," he said as businesslike as possible. From the look on Warrick's face he knew what the next question would be and he wasn't disappointed.

"So this tape is of you and Lady Heather, I take it?" he remembered only too well what Brass had said at the time about Grissom's attraction to the owner of the sex/fantasy club.

Grissom blushed furiously; he could feel his neck, face, chest and ears heat up and didn't even want to think what sort of picture he presented. He nodded unable to find the words.

"The next question I have to ask is..." Warrick sighed he was as uncomfortable with this as his boss was, "is the tape genuine or I'm I looking at a fake?"

Forcing himself to look the young Las Vegan in the eye Grissom answered, "the tape is genuine, the timeline, however, is inaccurate but I can find no way to prove it." He shook his head. "That's where your expertise comes in."

'At least he's being honest with me,' Warrick thought wondering how much it was costing the older man emotionally and mentally. "You do realise I'm going to have to scrutinise every inch of this tape, are you sure you want me to do it?"

Placing his hand on the taller man's arm, Grissom assured him, "You're the audio/visual guy and I trust you to do your job without any bias."

Excepting the compliment graciously, Warrick felt he had to warn him, "This may not be enough to save you job you know, Griss?"

Somewhat distractedly, the blue-eyed man answered, "My job may be the least of my worries if this get out," and he left the break room to join Sara.

Warrick picked one of the smaller rooms that had blinds over the myriad panes of glass and had a lockable door. It was bad enough he was going to have to view Grissom's sexual interlude with Lady Heather, he didn't want anyone barging in on him while he was working on it.

He put the video in the machine, sat down at the state of the art control board, and started it playing. Whatever he had expected from the apparently staid and solid Gil Grissom it was not what he got.
********************************************************************

"I think," Lady Heather said in a pleasing sultry voice, "that for one night you should try some role reversal." She walked away from the panel of light switches finally satisfied with the room's ambience. Grissom stood, appearing outwardly calm watching her every move. He didn't really know what he wanted from this evening and given the Dominatrix's passion, he wasn't too sure what to expect.

Cocking his head slightly to one side he digested her suggestion and then asked casually, "And what would that be?"

Lady Heather smiled and walked over to him. "I would imagine that you are normally the dominant, the one who takes the lead but who always leaves his partner with a get out clause."

He was never startled by her observations. In their previous encounter during the case concerning the murder of one of her girls, he had always found her assessments to be accurate, and although she was usually right on the money, tonight he thought her view of him slightly askew. "How would you suggest I go about changing that?" he asked his heart rate beginning to increase.

"For you it would not be easy," she assured him, "you're used to being in overall control even if you don't always have the last word." She stopped directly in front of him and pushed his jacket up and over his shoulders, encouraging it to slip down his arms and find its way to the floor.

Staring her straight in the eye, he arched one eyebrow and asked, "So, what would be the first step?" wondering what someone who dealt with sex as a profession would come up with.

"Firstly," she told him cupping his face with her hands, "you would have to be willing to follow my instructions immediately, without hesitation and to the letter."

He gave a small half smile, praying he didn't look as nervous at that prospect as he felt. "And then?" he asked.

She paused for a moment, "Then we would have to agree on a safety word," she chuckled as she ran her index finger along his jaw line, "I wouldn't want to push you further than you were prepared to go." There was a challenge in her voice.

Grissom's first instinct was to rise to that challenge and swallow the bait, but he was too careful to act that recklessly. "Interesting," he merely replied, "and what word would you suggest?"

He watched her brow crease as she gave this serious consideration. They both knew it would have to be a word they wouldn't commonly use. Something special and specific so there could be no misunderstanding.

"What do you think of Komoto?" she asked him. It wasn't the answer he'd expected and he wondered if she could possibly know about the Komoto Dragon he had. He didn't remember it coming up in any of their conversations.

As she reached out her hands to undo his shirt, sending his pulse racing, he stood perfectly still and said, "A strange choice, why did you pick that particular word?" he shivered as she kissed his exposed chest, trailing her tongue around his left nipple.

Raising one shoulder in an almost imperceptible shrug she informed him, "One of my clients was in rapture yesterday over finally taking delivery of one, it seemed a safe, disassociative word to use," she removed his shirt, taking in the sight and smell of the man as she moved even closer.

He felt his body tremble and his stomach jerked away from her touch as she ran the fingers of one hand between the waistband of his pants and his skin. "It seems suitable enough," he agreed struggling to keep his voice level.

Lady Heather smiled, she knew he would not relinquish control of this night easily even if it meant having total control in the long run, but she enjoyed a challenge and this man was certainly worth the effort.

Undoing his belt, button and zipper, she moved down his legs dragging his pants with her. She separated his legs more, causing him to stagger slightly in the process, but giving her better access to his inner thighs, which she kissed and nipped as she progressed to the floor. She smiled as she heard his breathing deepen and become more rapid, she would have her way yet.

"Lean on my shoulders," she instructed him and he complied without hesitation. Once she had removed his pants, she made her way behind him, still crouching on the floor. She'd already made swift work of his socks and shoes, but as she made her way back up she darted her tongue into the crease at the back of each knee and was rewarded by a gasp of surprise and the sight of his knees weakening for a split second.

'So,' Lady Heather thought, proud of her deduction, 'he didn't know he was sensitive there,' that was useful. Maybe this man didn't know his own body as well as the thought he did?

Standing she walked back around to face him and held out her hands. Quirking his eyebrow and giving one of his pouting smiles, he placed his hands in hers and allowed her to lead him to the bed. If he thought his quizzical look and smiling face were hiding the arousal in his deepening blue eyes he was mistaken. The semi-erectness of his penis was also impossible to disguise and she was pleased at the effect she was having on him. He would beg before the night was over, even if he didn't think himself capable of it.

Pulling his shorts to his knees she pushed him gently but firmly in the chest and he fell onto the bed maintaining a sitting position. She lifted one leg and then the other, disposing of his last piece of clothing she finally had him naked before her and she wasn't disappointed by what she saw. She had always suspected that the loose pants, baggy shirts and unflattering jackets hid a good physique and she was right. Here was a man so comfortable with his body and his sexuality that he saw no need to display either for the world at large and she envied the woman who would finally own this prize. She knew deep down that it would never be her, even suspected that she knew who owned his heart even if neither of the principal players were admitting it. Thought she suspected she would be hurt in the long run, the Dominatrix, uncharacteristically, decided to forgo rational thought for one night and allow herself to be fooled.

"Lie back on the bed and make yourself comfortable," she instructed him, "but stay on your back."

He was curious about what she had planned but said nothing, merely did as he was told. Contrary to what Lady Heather may believe, Grissom was unused to playing either the Dominant or Submissive role in any sexual encounter, at least consciously. He preferred to participate in a healthy exchange of give and take. Moving to the centre of the bed he stretched out trying to relax and just go with the flow of things but with someone like Lady Heather it wasn't easy. Unbidden a thought surfaced and he wondered what it would be like if it were Catherine instead. He squashed it savagely, now was not the time to be thinking of the strawberry blonde firecracker and that was a wish that could never be.

Lady Heather climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist, "You still seem to be overdressed," he said looking up into her sensual smile and twinkling eyes.

She laid her index finger across his lips silencing him. Then she lent forward and captured his pouting mouth with her own. As their tongues duelled for supremacy she slid his arms up the bed till they were above his head. He tensed and drew his head back from her as he felt the restraints click into place, "What the...?" he said.

Lady Heather smiled and trailed her fingers back down his arms. "Relax," she instructed him, "I told you we had to find a way to make you submissive," she kissed him passionately robbing him of his breath for a few moments, "taking physical control is one of the easiest ways to do that," she said, then a mischievous twinkle came into her eyes and she asked, "Unless you're saying Komoto?"

Grissom lay there for a moment, testing the strength of the restraints, thinking about what he wanted and considering the vibrant, sexy, beautiful woman before him. Did he really want this to end before he'd even really given it a try? "I'm not saying, yet," he answered hesitantly, leaving her in no doubt of his trepidations. She smiled, heaving a mental sigh of relief. She really wanted to see if she could push this man to his limits and get him to see another aspect of himself.

She kissed, licked, nipped and suckled her way back down his body, taking great care to find as many of his hot spots as she could and there were quite a few. She felt him tense again when she closed additional restraints around his ankles. She had meant what she said to him, but she didn't know how long he would allow himself to participate. There was one more thing she had to do to ensure dominance, and he would either call a halt to the proceedings or learn to trust his welfare to someone else even if just for a few hours.

Moving up to straddle his waist once more she looked into his eyes and asked, "Do you trust me?"

Lying looking up at her, still slightly nervous of the restraints, he wasn't sure how to answer. From her manner and comportment he didn't think she would do anything to cause him lasting physical or mental damage, but he hardly knew her and trust was not something he gave easily. "To a degree," he replied cautiously and was rewarded by a sensual smile.

"A fair enough answer given how well we know each other," Lady Heather conceded, "but surely in your profession, as in mine, you have learned to read and judge people fairly accurately?"

Grissom wasn't so sure about that anymore. After the fiasco with Paul Milander he knew it was possible for people to fool or mislead him, but something about the woman on top of him screamed sincerity and honesty.

"I'm prepared to maintain an open mind for now," he admitted, wondering where this conversation was leading.

She reached underneath the pillow and withdrew a blindfold holding it up for him to see. For the very first time in her dealings with him she saw honest fear cloud Grissom's features.

"I am aware that in your line of work your five senses are very important to you," she told him, "I also know that, while you won't admit it, one of them is failing you," she didn't give him the chance to answer but continued, "if it deserts you during our visit I will immediately remove the blindfold but I feel it is essential."

His voice was tight and almost toneless as he asked, "Essential in what way?" he had never liked groping around in the dark, feeling it was overrated, and he wasn't sure he wanted to now. As a child being in a game of blind man's bluff had always terrified him, a fear he'd been able to master, or was it mask, as he grew older.

"I want your body and your mind to process what you feel before you have time to analyse it. Removing your ability to see what I'm going to do can only help."

He pondered the statement for a moment. He could almost view it as a scientific experiment, seeing how the body reacted to pleasure when it had no additional visual stimuli to use as a point of reference. "Very well," he conceded, not believing he was actually going to go through with this.

Smiling at his agreement and relieved he had chosen to comply, she slipped the piece of cloth over his eyes and tied it. "Can you see anything?"

Grissom sighed deeply trying to suppress some remnant of that childhood terror, "No," he replied, annoyed at how tight and sullen his voice sounded.

Starting at his feet Lady Heather ran her fingers and then her tongue over the smooth flesh before her. It amazed her that a man of his age could be so unblemished and soft, for his physique did not speak of a totally sedentary lifestyle no matter how much he relied on his mind.

Each touch startled the man beneath her, for she didn't touch him in a systematic manner that would have made the exercise pointless. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved an ostrich feather she had hidden in the drawer.

A gasp of air rushed from Grissom's mouth as she trailed it up his inner thigh, he shuddered as it moved over his nipples and dipped into his navel, and he made a startled noise that was a mixture of a cry and a groan when she slid it over the tip of his penis.

She worked effortlessly, enjoying the reactions she was drawing from her bedmate. This night would be all about his pleasure and discovery. It didn't take long to bring him to the edge of climax but she had one more lesson she wanted him to learn.

Grissom jumped and held his breath as he felt something slipped on his shaft and tightened at its root. He knew he could achieve no release as long as it was in place and wondered what would happen next?

A pillow was slipped under his hips, raising his buttocks off the bed and bending his knees. Suddenly he felt incredibly vulnerable. With his ankles tied to two different points on the footboard, he had no way of protecting himself and was more exposed than he liked.

"Don't worry," the soft erotic voice of Lady Heather tried to assure him, "you're perfectly safe and you still have the control."

Although he knew she was right, they both also knew there was some part of him that was too stubborn to allow him to be the one to back down. He gasped in fear and anger as he felt something cold, ribbed and slick being inserted into his anus. "What the hell?" he exclaimed fighting against the restraints and the invasion, but they held him fast.

Lady Heather chuckled but did not touch him. "Relax," she purred, "it's just something to add to your overall pleasure."

Once he calmed there was no discomfort or pain, but he was still uneasy with what this woman had planned. Before he could voice his doubts his breath and reasoning ability were taken from him by what she was doing.

She began by biting down on his nipples while massaging his balls with one hand. At the same time she alternated between sliding the feather up and down his thigh and then along his shaft and across it's tip.

Within minutes Grissom was writhing in pleasure his hips bucking and his head lashing from side to side. He couldn't believe what he was feeling and knew he couldn't take much more of it.

"Please..." he begged before he even realised what he was saying.

"What do you want?" his temptress demanded using his own pre-ejaculate to moisten her finger and rub it over the tip of his penis.

"Please... aaaah..." he begged again.

"Tell me what you want?" was the reply.

Swallowing and trying to speak coherently he said, "Release."

The woman tormenting him chuckled, "And what do you need to do to attain this release?" she asked.

Grissom had never thought he could be so overwhelmed, his senses were on fire and he had difficulty rationalising, "To come," he whispered, "I need to come."

Again Lady Heather chuckled but there was nothing malicious in it only control. "And what is the proper word for that?"

Cringing with embarrassment, Grissom replied, "Ejaculate," he couldn't believe how uncomfortable saying that word made him. He had used it often enough in his day to day work, but this was different.

"So what is it you really want then, Mr Grissom?" the Dominatrix demanded, "tell me?"

'She's really going to make me say it," he thought abashedly with the one small remaining part of his mind that was still functioning. The lick of her tongue on his shaft head made him cry out and then plead in a small husky voice, "Please, Lady Heather, allow me to ejaculate."

Smiling in triumph Lady Heather covered his shaft with her mouth and continued to massage his balls, tickling the sensitive area of smooth skin that connected them with the tip of one finger, and removed the restraining ring.

Grissom cried out in release and astonishment as he toppled over the edge, his body trembling and jack knifing as he did so. Just as he felt his body beginning to calm, Lady Heather pulled the beads from his anus and he exploded in ecstasy once more.

Lying breathless and sated he could not believe what he had just let happen. The blindfold was removed and he looked up into the sparkling eyes of the woman who had just given him so much pleasure and he only barely managed to hide the lurch in his heart that it wasn't Catherine. 'Stop it!' he mentally chastised himself, 'that is never going to happen.' Continuing to gaze at the face before him he said sheepishly, "Thank you, Lady Heather."

The woman bowed her head in acknowledgement but merely said, "Now find the courage to seek out the woman you should have done this with."

He couldn't contain the startled gasp that escaped his lips, but before he could deny anything she spoke again. "We both know it should have been your blonde colleague, Ms Willows isn't it?"

This was just too close to home for the introverted man. He didn't believe he wore his feelings on his sleeve. He couldn't or someone would have noticed long before now.

"Don't deny it, Mr Grissom," Lady Heather admonished him, "I will always be here for games, but it was clear to me and anyone with 20-20 vision how you both feel about each other, don't you think it's time to stop playing games?"

The criminalist's work mask slammed down over Grissom's previously exposed feelings and he looked up at his bound wrist, raising them in a signal to be released. Once she had done so she moved to the lighting panel again and Grissom rose to dress.

Warrick sat in stunned silence as the tape ended. He had expected to feel embarrassed maybe even awkward or uncomfortable. He hadn't thought he'd feel downright horny! This was his supervisor, his boss, and his friend, Gil Grissom! But damn, Lady Heather was very skilled and adept at her profession. 'A true mistress in her field,' the thought made Warrick chuckle and he found himself beginning to relax. Now, to try and find the information he needed.

Grissom sat in one of the small labs head bent over a microscope trying to concentrate on one of his experiments. He had retreated here as soon as he and Sara had returned from their crime scene and had handed their evidence over to Greg Saunders in the Trace Lab.

He knew Warrick would be hard at work on the videotape but just the thought of anyone seeing what was on that, what he was doing, made him feel sick and he couldn't cope with company right now.

The door opened behind him and he jumped, preparing to send who ever it was on their way with a flea in their ear, but he was struck dumb when he saw it was Catherine.

It was obvious that she was still angry and even clearer to Gil that he was somehow the cause of it but he still didn't know what he had done?

"Can I borrow ten dollars?" she asked without preamble.

Blinking in surprise he stood and reached into his pants pocket without even thinking about it, "Of course," he replied, "are you sure that's enough?"

"Yeah," she answered trying to at least sound civil but she really didn't feel very friendly toward him right now. "I forgot to lift my purse in all the hassle to get here tonight, I'll pay you back," she took the money with a nod of thanks.

"You don't have to," he replied.

"I'll pay you back," she assured him striding to the door.

Just when I thought things couldn't get worse
I realized I forgot my purse
With all this stress -I must confess
This could be worse than PMS

Grissom began to turn dejectedly back to his experiment but Catherine's voice stopped him. "Did you get those pictures developed for Lindsey yet?" she asked her anger bristling to the surface again.

He nodded, "I've got the film with me and I'll get them done at the end of shift"

They both knew he could have developed them himself here in the lab and no one would have said anything but he was just too honest to do that. The thought of his so called honesty almost made Catherine want to cry.

"Good," she answered, "she'll enjoy seeing them," and just before she slammed the door she added, caustically, "especially with you being so photogenic."

His eyes widened in panic but he couldn't seem to make his body move, 'Oh God,' he thought dread filling him, 'no, she couldn't have,' and then he was running, heading for his office.

The room was never too tidy looking at the best of times but by the time he was finished searching it looked like a mini-tornado had hit it. In the midst of it all he just sat there not knowing what to do next.

The door slammed open against the wall and Catherine charged in.

"Catherine, I..." he started to explain but she cut him off.

"I can't do this right now," she stated and slammed two envelopes and some pictures onto his desk, "I'll be in touch," and she swept from the room.

Recognising the envelope and pictures the blackmailer had originally sent, Grissom reached for the other envelope with a heavy heart. In it was a request for two weeks vacation she was owed and a curt note asking him not to contact her, she would call him when she was ready. He sat there staring at it as his world fell apart.

That was where Warrick found him twenty minutes later. "Grissom I found it," he all but shouted as he ran into the office, "you're in the clear, there's..." he stopped abruptly looking in shock at his friend who was sitting behind his desk tears staining his ashen hued face.

Quickly he closed the door and locked it, and then he sat in the chair before the desk, "Gil, what is it?" he asked, "what's wrong?"

It took a moment for Grissom to register the questions and then he handed the items Cath had thrown at him to the other man. "I've lost her, Warrick," he said his voice thick with grief, "and I don't know what to do?"

Warrick read the letters and looked at the pictures. "But I can prove you're innocent, that this all happened before you and Cath," he said heatedly, "let me talk to her, make her understand?" he asked plaintively.

That seemed to snap Grissom out of it, "No!" he exclaimed, "she's been through enough, she doesn't need to know all this as well," he protested, "giver her the space she needs and then we'll see, see if she'll let me tell her the truth."

Shaking his head in disbelief Warrick objected, "But, Griss..."

"I said no!"

There was nothing more to say. Warrick watched in amazement as Grissom crumpled in on himself right before the younger man's eyes and started to cry once more. Reaching for his cell phone he hit the speed dial and when it was answered said, "Nick? Warrick. Listen will you log Griss and I off the clock?" he listened to Nick's surprised affirmative and then replied, "yeah, the boss' got a migraine a really doozy so I'm just gonna drive him home," a pause then, "Thanks."

He got the older man's things together and then rushed them both out to the parking lot. There was no way he was going to let anyone see Grissom like this. He also made up his mind that regardless of what his boss said things were not going to stay as they were and he didn't give a damn who objected.