Platypus 7: Miles, Highs, Fires

He sat back in his dark office, looking at a document he was supposed to review and sign. It was extremely difficult, though, because there was a tiny wrapped parcel in his drawer. Catherine’s handwriting was on the card, so he knew who it was from, but he wondered what was inside of it. She had told him to wait to open it. He knew he couldn’t.

He set the paper down, and looked to his door to make sure no one was coming into the room. Quickly, he opened the top drawer and picked the package up. It was a tiny box, wrapped in dark blue paper. He opened the paper, and lifted the lid to the box. There was a motel key, sitting in a bed of tissue paper.

He read the card under his breath: “‘Tomorrow, after work, meet here. Bring wine. -C.’”

He looked at the key. It was a generic, brass room key. There was a number etched into it. There wasn’t a motel name anywhere though. He groaned. He flipped the card over looking to see if she left him any clues. There was nothing.

Catherine was the most incredible woman he had ever met. She was sexy, and smart, and loving. They were opposites: he was an introvert, and she was an extrovert; she was a people person, while he found it difficult to relate to people; he liked rollercoasters, and she liked her feet on the ground. And now, he thought with a grin, she’s created a mystery that needs solving.

She was smart. She was sexy. He shook his head, wondering how he ended up in this position. She hadn’t said anything, but he was beginning to believe that it wasn’t all one-sided, emotionally speaking. Nothing was one-sided, physically speaking. He was amazed at how exciting their couplings still were; he had once entertained the notion that after a while, their secret sex would become tiring and less fun. It had never happened.

However, there were nevertheless highs and lows to their relationship. Recently, they were experiencing a low; they had taken a break, without verbally declaring it. The plane case had been a little difficult; working as hard as they did didn’t leave them much time for anything else but their own business. The I-15 murders had been stressful on both of them. For such a case, he knew that Catherine would be the best to team up with. She had better people skills than he could ever imagine possessing himself, and she was an exceptional CSI. Definitely the best he had on his team—and he wasn’t just saying that because he was in love with her.

He glanced at his watch and realized the others would be waiting for him in the break room. He put the key in his breast pocket, and picked up some papers, before heading out of the safe confines of his office and meeting the rest of the team.

They weren’t there. He sat down, and started reading details of the arson case that Ecklie had investigated. He wondered why a man like that could keep this job, but politics was the only reason he could think of. That was something Gil couldn’t entertain.

“Am I disturbing you?”

He looked up at Catherine, who had entered the room undetected and had bent down low to distract him. He noticed that her shirt was hanging from her body, giving him a nice view of the black lace that encased her breasts. He swallowed and managed to speak: “Yeah.”

Her eyes twinkled. He saw her eyes dip lower to his chest; he wondered if she saw the key in his pocket. “Good.”

Gil wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her right there. Instead, his attention was diverted by the presence of Nick, Warrick, and Sara. He started talking about the supervisor evaluation forms. “Where are they?” He grumbled, wishing he was more organized.

“Here they are,” Catherine had looked once at the mess in front of him, and retrieved them. When their hands brushed in paper transaction, Gil felt his body heat up; he wondered if she had felt the fire, too. He quickly jumped into talking about cases; he put Nick with Catherine deliberately, so he wouldn’t be teased senselessly.

“Wait a minute,” Catherine commented on the case he was working with Warrick and Sara. “Ecklie was the CSI on that arson.” Gil nodded, suddenly wishing he had picked Catherine to work with him, so he could rebound Ecklie off of him, onto her. She could handle him well. “I see a bad moon rising.” After she finished speaking, he felt her foot on his calf, rubbing up and down. He looked at her, hoping to put and end to it, but she was unreadable.

Warrick asked. “Can a CSI take over another CSI’s case?”

Catherine shrugged, still using her foot to tease Gil, who was only getting more and more uncomfortable. “Only if they’re of equal rank and looking for trouble.”

He swatted her foot away with her hand discretely. She sighed and stood up.

Warrick asked another question: “Hey, what happened to that meeting the other day?”

Gil’s mind was blank. “Meeting?”

“Yeah, the department heads were voting on an extra vacation day or something.”

Gil remembered that day. Catherine had decided to pay him a visit, as he had been getting ready to go to the meeting. Needless to say, he didn’t make it. She had been very persuasive.

“Yeah!” Catherine added, sounding like a disgruntled employee. Gil’s eyebrows lifted as he looked at her in her acting role.

Nick leaned in. “Hmm. Organization. Minus one.”

The others left. Catherine told Nick she’d meet him in his car, and Warrick and Sara went to the evidence room to watch the video Gil had given them.

“It’s your fault I missed that meeting,” he commented, his voice dry.

“Yeah,” she smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “It was worth it, though, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely.” He paused for a second before asking: “What hotel is the key for?”

She bent down and kissed his forehead from behind. “That would ruin the fun.”

“This isn’t a case, Cath. I can’t get your phone records and find out what hotel you called, or call hotels and motels with warrants asking each one if a Catherine Willows has made reservations.”

She giggled. “I know.”

He asked: “Do I even get a clue?”

“Nope! Not yet,” she answered, squeezing his shoulders. “Maybe later, if you’re good.”

He chuckled. “I’m always good.”


After his run in with Ecklie in the hallway, he meant to go to the evidence room to meet up with Warrick and Sara, who had taken some pieces of evidence from the burnt house. He took a detour, though.

“Greg,” he entered the lab. “Do you have anything for me?”

He had gone to Greg with the key, knowing that the young man would be eager to do some investigating himself, knowing that he would keep it from Catherine if he told him it was ‘top secret.’

“Yeah,” Greg nodded. “Actually, I do. Well, I don’t exactly have it pinpointed to a specific hotel,” Gil groaned in disappointment. “But, I can tell you it’s not a hotel in the city.”

“So, it’s probably in the desert or something?”

“Probably,” the younger man nodded. “I have a few DNA tests to run, and then I can start looking again.”

“Great,” Gil smiled. “Thanks, Sanders.”


The volunteer firefighter was free. Ecklie had been wrong. Gil had been right. That satisfaction alone revved his system up. Knowing he had a rendezvous with Catherine was too much. His phone rang when he got back into his car. “Grissom.”

“Hey,” it was Catherine. “You want a clue?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I’ve actually been to most hotels in town by now. I think I have it narrowed down.” He was only ten minutes away from the hotel, and knew that if he could keep her on the phone, he could surprise her. “Do you miss me?”

She was smiling; he could feel it. “You have no idea.”

“The past week’s been a little difficult, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I figured we could use a little time alone.”

“It was a good idea,” he complimented her. “Although, I have to admit, it kept my mind occupied the past couple of days.”

She laughed. “Good. That was my plan.”


“Look,” she told him. “We’re both too concerned with our jobs to let this interfere with work. We’re two consenting adults. You’ve been distant lately. Let me have my fun.”

He saw the hotel come into view. He patted his chest briefly to make sure the key was still there. When he slowed to turn into the parking lot, he glanced at the passenger seat and checked to see he had packed the wine.

“I intend to have fun, too.”

“Good,” she responded. “Part of my brilliant plan.”

He parked away from the room, and picked the wine up, while getting out of his car. “Anything else in this plan I should know about?”

“Nah,” she answered. “Do you think you’ll find this place soon? Or should I send for food and water?” He smirked, and knocked on the door. “Hang on a sec. I think the maid’s here with more towels.”

She opened the door. He took his sunglasses off, and offered her the wine. “Honey, I’m home.”

Without missing a beat, she set the wine down, with her phone. He had closed his phone, tossed it on the table, and stepped inside. Catherine jumped into his arms. “You... you... I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming.”

“I had Greg track down where the key was from.”

Her eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It seemed like a slow day for him. Thought I’d give him something different to do. He’s always saying that he’d like to do field work.”

“So you didn’t put as many miles on your tires as I thought you would’ve.” She laughed before showering his face and neck with kisses. “That’s my Gil,” she murmured. “Smart and resourceful.”

He blushed, but didn’t let her compliments distract him from what he wanted. He carried her to the bed, where he set her down carefully. “No more talking.”

“Why?” She twisted her body a bit, so she was sitting and facing him.

“Wastes time.”

She smiled and nodded, her hands already at his shirt. She exposed his chest, but looked up briefly. “One question: how did your case go?”

“He didn’t start the fire.” He managed to answer, frustrated with her need for verbal communication. “You’re stalling.”

“Taking a page out of your book,” she grinned. “Or committing arson, however you see it.”

He chuckled, but it sounded strangled because her hands were inside his pants. “Arson... yess... that sums it up...” He looked down at her. “I’m going to get you back, you know.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He started pulling her shirt over her head. “Where’s your daughter?”

“With sister,” she said, unhooking her bra herself. She tossed it onto the dresser, and turned back to look at him. She laughed. “You know, you could at least pretend to look bored when I take my shirt off. You’ve seen them enough.”

He shook his head. “No way. Never enough.”

She smiled. He saw how happy she was with his sincerity. He felt an emotional high rush his system. Her eyes moistened for a second, and he tilted his head to study her. “You okay?” He asked after he saw her struggling with control. “Hey...” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his body. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she smiled up at him, after kissing his cheek. “I’ve been a little overemotional lately. I think it’s just PMS.”

“Uh oh...” Gil joked. She swatted his chest weakly with her free hand. “I don’t like making you cry, Cath.”

She sighed. “They’re good tears. Tears of things that make me happy.” She wriggled a little in his lap. He winced. She smirked. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Mmmm, good idea.”

He shifted her in his lap, relishing the feelings of their bare chests rubbing together. She sucked on his lower lip, nibbling a little.

In her eyes, there were reflections he couldn’t quite read. Her pupils had dilated, making it difficult to tell what she was feeling, apart from the lust between them.

“Pants,” she whispered in a husky voice that made him shiver. “We need to get rid of the pants.”

“Good idea,” he whispered back. They stood up together and finished undressing. “God,” he murmured into her hair when she was completely exposed. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop flattering me,” she blushed, using that moment to push him onto the bed.

“No foreplay?” He inquired when she scooted over him, sinking down on him, fixing herself to him.

She shook her head. “I have the room for the whole day. There’s wine, and pizza. We don’t need to go anywhere for the next eight hours.” She bent down and kissed him. “It’s been a while.”

Times like these, he suspected she only wanted sex from him. He understood, though, and despite his deep feelings of love for the woman, he felt the same way.

She rocked with him, keeping her eyes in his the entire time. When he was close, she swiveled her hips that way he found excruciating. He almost closed his eyes; she was driving him wild.

The physical high came soon after they started. She had been first, little whispers and gasps coming out of her mouth sporadically until he managed to extract a long and low moan out of her. Because of her release, his came shortly after. He cried out, gripping her to him.

She collapsed next to him. “Eventually I might dig a blanket out.”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “It’s still hot in here. I don’t think the fire’s completely gone yet.” He sat up on his elbow, leaning over her, staring into her eyes. “Maybe we should have some wine?”

She smiled up at him. “I don’t think that’s going to help the fire.”

“No, it definitely isn’t. I’m game if you are.”

“Count me in.”

The End!

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