Platypus 6: Sweetness

Gil didn’t like unfinished business. Catherine watched him, looking for signs of emotional upset. She saw how retrained he was; his mouth was drawn tight, and his eyes weren’t open windows to his soul.

“So,” she asked, knowing action had to be taken immediately. “What do we do?”

He answered, voice full of tension. “We split up. You and I go to the coroner,” she felt small tingles of joy knowing he chose her. “Sara, you go to the hotel, dust every inch of that bathroom. Here,” he turned and reached for a jar of red powder. “Use this: red creeper, my own special concoction.”

Sara beamed. Catherine saw the pride reflecting in her eyes. “Wow.”

“Yeah, well, serious case, serious print powder. Be thorough, don’t take anything for granted.”

“Yes sir.”

Catherine headed towards the door after Sara left. Looking into his eyes, she saw him open up a little. In the hall, she kept looking over at him. She knew he was upset; she wished there was some way to help him.

“Stop looking at me, Cath.”

“Well, I just want to—”

“I’m fine. Let’s just get to Dr. Robbins, and see what he has to say about this one.”

She put her hand out and touched his arm. “Gil, stop, for just a second.” When he did, she looked up at him. “I meant to say this a couple days ago, but, thanks for the flowers.”

“I’m glad you liked them.”

“Lindsay went crazy, thinking I had a secret admirer or something.”

He smiled for the first time in a little while. “She’s not far off the mark.”

“When we get this guy,” she smiled up at him. “I’m going to cook you supper.”

“Promise?” She nodded. He spoke again: “Good. Until then, let’s work hard and get through this.”

“I’m with you every step of the way.”

He smiled before pulling his armour back on. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”


“How are you holding up?” She asked once they were sitting in the car after visiting Mrs. Harmon in her home. She had offered to drive; he had been in a lousy mood, and she wanted to help him as much as possible. He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he let his head fall on her shoulder. “That well?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I hate these sorts of cases.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We’re going to catch him though.” She reached up with her left hand and caressed his face. He sighed and nuzzled her. “Gil?”

He lifted his head and looked at her when she turned to face him. “Cath?” She turned a little to face him with her entire body. Without a word, she kissed him. He reached up and held her face. When her lips left his, when her forehead pressed to his, he spoke: “I needed that.”

“Looked like it.” She started the car, and then reached for his hand. “Let’s go catch ourselves a bad guy.”

“Sounds good.”

“By the way,” she added as they drove towards the lab before going to a music studio Gil wanted to go to. “What did you want for dinner?”

“Something simple. Don’t want to stress your kitchen out too much.”

She laughed. Even when he was stressed, he could still carry a joke. “I think I can handle that. What do you want for dessert?”

“If you don’t know by now...” he chuckled. She squeezed his hand, and kept driving. He was going to be alright.


“How do you know Disco?”

Catherine bit her lip to keep herself from giggling. “How do you figure we know each other?”

He rolled his eyes as she walked closer and sat down on his desk. “Well, even a blind fool would notice the looks you two gave each other.”

“Yeah...” she nodded. He waited patiently for her answer. He didn’t know if he really wanted to know, but it was a welcomed distraction from the case. “Well, in my previous life,” she admitted. “I gave him a couple lap dances.”

“That’s all?”

She nodded. “That’s all. Were you jealous?”

He shrugged. “A little.” Before she could comment, he changed the subject. “Greg was asking about your dancing days.”

“Really,” she raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

“He was asking if you were as good as you said you were.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was certain you was telling the truth. Which then brought more questions about whether or not I had seen you dance.” He grimaced. “I was in hell. Just thought I’d share that with you.”

“Have you seen me dance?” He was about to answer but she stopped him. “Lately?”

“No,” he shook his head. “You stopped that.”

“Only do it once and a while for special, private audiences.”


Sara knocked on the open door, ending their conversation. Catherine smiled, looked at Gil once with a raised brow, noticing the darkness in his eyes, before heading back to business.


“God,” Gil flopped down on his sofa while Catherine went immediately into his kitchen to make them a few drinks. “What a nightmare.”

He had watched the surveillance footage from while they were out trying to track down Paul, and that had torn him apart. He had let the killer get away. Catherine peeked out at him from over the counter. “Don’t dwell on it.”

“He was making fun of me!” He groaned, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face. “He made a fool out of me and my team!”

She shook her head and came near him with a screwdriver and a glass of whiskey and ice. He reached for the glass. She spoke gently: “I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself, Gil.”

“I thought we had him... he was one step ahead of us the whole time.” He said after a quick sip of his drink. “I need closure.”

“He’ll slip up someday, and we’ll be ready for him.” She assured him, sitting down on the sofa. Her scent calmed him, while her presence revved his system. “What do you have in that fridge that’d edible?”

“There are some chocolate covered—”

“Edible, Gil. Edible.”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re edible... they’re just—” he stopped talking about the grasshoppers and answered her question. “There is some steak in there, potatoes in the cupboard, vegetables... want help?”

She frowned. “Nope. I’ve got it under control. Why don’t you go get a shower, change into something more comfortable, while I cook?” She kissed his cheek. “You’ll feel better.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Yes, I probably am.” She chuckled, while he stood up. He was about to walk out of the room, but he turned around. He was about to open his mouth and ask if she would join him, but she cut him off before he could form his first word: “If I join you, there won’t be any food ready.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“No,” she smiled getting up to head to the kitchen. He stopped her by grabbing her wrist. “Certainly can’t.” He kissed her gently, quickly. She tasted like oranges and her strawberry lipgloss. “Mmmm. Go get a shower. I’ll start cooking.”

“What if...”

She shook her head. He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll be back in a while. Don’t destroy my kitchen.”

“I promise I won’t.”


She had been right. The shower had worked wonders; just looking at him, she knew. He looked refreshed. He came up behind her as she worked over the stove, and kissed the top of her head. She could smell him—no soap, no perfume, just a clean Gil. “You were right.”

“I know,” she smiled, turning to face him. “You look better.”

“It was that bad before?”

She nodded. “A little worn around the edges.” She pointed to the microwave. “The potatoes are in there if you want to get them out and put them on plates. The steak’s almost done,” she pointed to the small toaster oven where they were grilling. “So are the carrots.”

“Smells really good,” he commented, stepping away from her to help her out.

“You’re going to love dessert,” she winked. “But, you need to eat first.”

“Eating’s overrated.”

One look silenced him. She had managed to get him to eat most of what was on his plate. She had had a harder time eating her meal. Gil kept playing with her hair, kissing her hand, and doing other things that were successful at raising her body temperature. She could hardly wait for dessert; she was nervous and excited at the same time.

“Go on out and sit on the sofa,” she told him, while fishing through her purse after the supper dishes had been cleaned up. “I’ll be right there.”


“Oh,” she added. “If you could keep your eyes closed for a little while, that would be helpful. Just until I say so, okay?”

He wrinkled his forehead; she knew he was trying to figure out what she was up to. When she slipped the CD into the player, she took off her work clothes and stood in her high heels and underwear. The music started, and she said: “Open your eyes.”

They popped open, immediately seeking hers. When he realized what she was up to, his eyes dropped down, raking over her body before returning to her baby blues.

“Dessert,” she grinned. “Thought you’d enjoy a lap dance.”

“Understatement of the year,” he murmured when she came to him, swinging her hips in a deliberate fashion. He sat up a bit, eager to touch her.

She wagged a finger at him. “No touching. Those are the rules.”

He groaned, she chuckled as she danced in front of him, lowering herself into his lap, grinding against him, before lifting herself up again. She watched his eyes travel from her body to her face as she moved around. She had never seen a man do that before; when she had been dancing at the Palace, they had never looked at her face.

She should’ve known Gil would’ve been different.

“Ahhh!” She cried out as Gil jumped up and picked her up. “Gil! I wasn’t done!”

He shifted her a little in his arms. “I would’ve been done.”

She understood what he meant and whispered: “Bedroom.”

“Good idea.”

The minute they were in his room, she started to help him undress. This was a race; their fingers were racing to get his shirt off, his pants off, his socks off, too. She pulled him against her, but didn’t kiss him right away.


She laughed before dipping down and kissing his shoulder. “I thought you liked that.”

“You like it too much.”

“Oh,” she snorted as she directed him to the bed. “Look who’s talking. Mr. Prolong for Effect himself!”

He silenced her with a kiss. They didn’t bother with the usual tantalizing foreplay. She didn’t want that, she just wanted him. He obliged happily, sating her desires for the time being.

Afterwards, they curled up together on his bed. She played with the light hairs on his chest, while talking. “I was really worried today, with the prints...”

“Me, too.”

“I’m so glad he didn’t pin that on you.”

“Me, too,” he kissed her temple. “Quit worrying. It didn’t happen. I’m okay.”

“I know...” she sighed, kissing the palm of his hand that was caressing her face. “Try not to scare me like that again, alright?”

“I promise.”

She chuckled, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. She stared into his eyes, seeing so much shining up at her. “You’re so handsome,” she touched his face gently with delicate fingers. He smiled and blushed, and tried speaking, but she put a finger to his lips. “Don’t say what I think you were going to say.”

“What was that?” He murmured from underneath her finger, tickling it a little.

“That you weren’t, or something like that,” she replied with a soft voice. She replaced the finger with her lips. After a slow, drawn out kiss, she asked: “Want a second helping of dessert?”

The End!

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