Platypus 3: Friends and Lovers

He hung up the phone and sighed. He was under a lot of stress. Not only did he have some problems with the paperwork that came with being the supervisor of the night shift, but his personal life was falling apart, too. He had tried to avoid Catherine, but he couldn’t help how he felt; what tore him up even more was that he didn’t think Catherine felt the same way, and keeping the charade up of being friends that sometimes slept together was killing him. He wanted more than that, but it seemed unattainable. He was too weak to walk away.

“Hey do you want to give us our assignments or do you want us to take the night off?”

Before she had spoken, he knew it was her. He had a feeling in his gut. When she asked her question, he heard someone come in behind her, and sighed, knowing that he had to share her for the time being.

He grumbled, using the phone call as an excuse for his troubled mood. “Paperwork, paperclips, paper punchers... all these people want me to do is push paper. Nobody wants me to solve crimes.”

“Hey, could’ve turned the job down.” Her voice showed no sign of extra emotion; he was impressed with how their extracurricular activities didn’t interfere with their careers. He wondered if their friendship was as safe, though.

“The grass is always greener, Catherine.”

“Well, let’s just hurry this up.” He saw her move towards him, but didn’t know what she was doing until her hands were already on the valve. The light dropped and his paper caught on fire. He sighed.

Warrick commented: “Cool.”

Catherine spoke next: “You really want to see flash paper flash, walk in on a bookie.”

He looked up at her, knowing that if he looked into her eyes he’d feel those familiar pangs of longing. “That’s what this was about... bookies.”

The phone rang before she could say anything. She walked to his desk and picked the cases up off a pile of paperwork he had yet to do anything about.

“Don’t answer it. You’ve got work to do, Boss.”

She flashed him a tiny smile, and they headed out of the office.

Gil took the papers from her, their hands touching briefly. He felt desire flare, seeing the same effect in her eyes. She dropped her hand, and moved away. He wondered if Warrick noticed their exchange.


Not only was the only suspect they had about to go free, but Gil missed seeing Catherine. He knew he’d have to work with her on more cases; being around her didn’t help his feelings, but it kept him from missing her. He looked around and saw a couple talking close to each other in low voices as they walked out of the station. He had his hand on the woman’s lower back, and she leaned into him; when he kissed her cheek, the woman smiled. Those were the exchanges he wanted the most with Catherine. He wished he could be in public with her, and be able to reach out and connect with her. The closed door, one night stands they were having were incredible, but he knew he needed more.

He also knew he’d never get more.

“Snap out of it...” he told himself, before splashing his face with water from the drinking fountain in the wall.

Warrick neared him. “I thought I’d find you here.”

He turned and faced his coworker. “It’s why I live.”

The darker male leaned against the wall on the other side of the hall. “Evidence, a double edged sword.”

“Yeah,” Gil agreed. “Nobody wanted to put that pushed away more than me, but the evidence sets him free.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“Doesn’t matter how I feel... evidence only knows one thing: the truth. It is what it is.”

Warrick looked up at him. Gil wondered if the younger man knew what his supervisor was really thinking about. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

As he told him a story about the spider and the philosophy professor, he began to wonder where the evidence was pointing his concluding thoughts on his relationship with Catherine, or lack thereof.

The sex was incredible; he didn’t contribute that to love, but to two friends who knew each other extremely well and to an addition of lust. He hadn’t felt that comfortable with a woman for as long as he could clearly remember. She brought him out of his shell; there weren’t many inhibitions holding him back around her when they were in the heat of the moment.

They had been able to maintain a very professional relationship at work. That surprised him, given Catherine’s tendency to personalize her work. There were times when he had to mentally reprimand himself for trying to touch her, or say something less than professional; each time, he reminded himself that the evidence pointed to the idea of a one-night stand.

It killed him to admit it. He liked to deny it, but later the evidence always represented itself.


Catherine looked at Nick as he spoke about Gil. Every time she tried to push him out of her mind, there he was, in some form, working his way back into the front of her mind. For the sake of work, she had been able to compartmentalize until the end of her shift, so that her work wasn’t affected; but, it was exhausting. Nick wasn’t helping.

“Hey, Nick,” she responded to her coworker. “Grissom’s not always right. Do yourself a favour and think for yourself.” Thinking her words were a little harsh, judging from Nick’s look of surprise, she quickly added: “I mean that as a friend, okay?”

He nodded. She knew eventually that she would have to resolve her problems; that meant talking to Gil about what was going on between them.

She looked to the other man in the room. “Okay, Detective, we have some more homework to do.”


He watched the boy get carted off into a police car, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach. His young words rang in his mind: “I killed my best friend.” Gil had a sinking feeling he was headed in a similar direction. Their relationship could be altered forever, and perhaps there would be nothing left to repair. Perhaps their relationship would be blown into millions of miniature fragments. Perhaps he would lose his best friend. He felt fear grip his heart, saddening and worrying him.

He knew where he had to go, where he could feel better, where the thoughts would fall from his head for a brief time.

“Where are you going?”

“Away...” he walked away from Warrick and headed to his car. He drove to the nearest rollercoaster park. When he was really in trouble, this had the power to restore his soul.

Flying above the town, riding the rails, he kept his eyes open and focused on the changing scenery. He felt at peace after the ride, and when he got off the ride, he knew that he had to go see Catherine and try to sort out whatever was going with them.

He didn’t make any other stops on his way to her house. He knew Lindsay should be home, so that would be able to keep them from misbehaving. He hoped he could control himself around her.

After knocking on her door, she opened it within minutes, clad in a short robe made of fabric that wasn’t sheer but left very little to his imagination. He suddenly wished she was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and fuzzy socks.

“Hey,” she eyed him. “Are you okay?”

“Rough day.”

“C’mon in,” she welcomed him with a smile. “I’ll put some tea on. Tell me about your case.” She headed immediately into the kitchen, while he shut the door and took his coat and shoes off. “You had the boy who died of fear, right?”

He nodded.

She continued. “Warrick told me he had to clock you out. Where did you go?”


She set the kettle down, without plugging it in, and looked out at him. He knew she was thinking that whatever he was going through was really bad; she knew the importance of the rollercoasters to him: to find control, lose control.

With soft feet, she walked out to him. He had seated himself on her living room sofa, which was where she joined him. “You should’ve come over.”

“He killed his best friend,” he said quietly, turning to look at her. “I just...”

“Shhh,” she whispered, putting several fingers to his lips. “No more.”


“No ifs ands or buts,” she smiled, snaking her other hand over his shoulder to rest behind his head. Before he could react, she had pressed her lips to his, and his hands were grabbing at her. He needed her more than he liked to admit, but she knew. She always knew.

“What about your daughter?” He whispered when she finally released him.

“If you promise to be quiet,” she offered an easy smile. “We can go to my bedroom.”

He nodded, but quickly added: “I didn’t come here for this.”

“But,” she responded. “Your rollercoaster didn’t work, or else you wouldn’t be here.”

She stood up and held her hand out. He slid his into it, and let her direct him to her bedroom. He watched her untie her robe as they walked through the doorway, before she even shut the door behind them. She parted from him momentarily to find a silk scarf on her dresser.

“Come here,” she demanded gently. He looked at her in confusion for a second, but obeyed. When she put the scarf over his eyes, he wondered what she was up to, but knew well enough to trust her. He felt her brush his body with hers when she tied the knot behind his head. “Can you see?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Good.” She unbuttoned his shirt quickly, pushing it over his shoulders, letting him shrug out of it. He couldn’t see her, but he could smell her, and she smelled really good. Her lips landed on his chest, roaming over his exposed torso. When she flicked her tongue over one of his nipples, he gasped in anticipation of her teeth, but there was no nibbling. “Relax, Gil.”

“I’m trying. You don’t make it easy,” he admitted.

“Back up three small steps,” she said, guiding him when he started to move. “There. Don’t move.”

He felt her walk past him, and then he heard something click.

“Just locked the door,” she explained, when she came up behind him, running her hands up his back before settling them on his shoulders. She kissed his back as she had kissed his front, lavishing care and affection on him. Her hands slid down, reaching around his stomach, blindly finding his belt. He gasped again at the contact. She chuckled. “Relax. We have all morning. No rushing, no stress, just this.”

“Going to kiss my worries away?” He asked in a joking tone.

“If you’d let me,” she replied seriously, despite the tone in his voice. Her fingers worked at the buckle, and then the button and zipper fly. He felt her body pressed against his; her breasts were rubbing against his back, sending electricity coursing through his system. He wondered briefly what this felt like for her, but was distracted when she pulled away and pulled his pants and boxers down. “Lift each leg, left first, then right,” she said from around his feet. He obliged, feeling her slip his pants and socks off. “Now, turn around.... good. Now—”

She pushed him backwards. Panic caught him until he landed on the bed. He heard her laugh softly. “If you could’ve seen your face....”

“Cath, that wasn’t funny.”

“Oh, c’mon,” she said while crawling onto the bed to join him. “I thought it was... if it had been me, you would’ve laughed.”

“True,” he conceded. She kissed her way to his mouth, where she licked his lips slowly first, paying close attention to the corners of his mouth, before kissing him there.

He reached for her and was pleased when his hands connected with soft flesh. He was even more pleased when he felt her straddle him and ease him into her.

“Slow,” she advised when he started to speed up. “Take your time and feel all of this.”

“I’m already on fire....” he whispered. “Can’t wait anymore.”

Her hands pushed down on his chest, keeping him from hugging her to him. As he wriggled underneath her, he felt her hips move, circling above him. He bucked twice, his hands grabbing her arms. She laughed. “Nope... not yet.” He groaned when she slowly lifted herself up and slowly descended. She shushed him with a kiss. She kept the slow speed, stoking the fire in him with such intensity that he thought he might bust into flames.

“God, Cath... I can’t... I don’t think I can hold on... please... let me...”

She pulled the scarf down; blue eyes met blue eyes. Together, they raced to the finish line, remaining connected through their eyes. He saw emotions flash in hers, and he wondered what they were, but he never had that chance.

She had brought him to release; he hadn’t closed his eyes, which made it even more intense. She simply stared back at him and smiled, and it was that look that pushed him over the edge.

“Feel better?” she said, still sitting on him.

“Yes,” he nodded, struggling to find better words. “You didn’t...”

“This was for you.”

He shook his head. “That isn’t fair.”

“I don’t need—” She let out a small whoop when he flipped them over. “Gil... I didn’t bring you down here to—” He smirked when his fingers travelled across her stomach and lower, cutting her off. “Oooh. I, uh... ohhhhh....”

“Let me return the favour,” he smiled.

She breathed deeply. “Not going to argue.”


The End!

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