“Hello?” She answered her cell phone, while motioning to Nick that she’d be at the tape in a few seconds.
“Hello, Catherine.”
She slumped against the seat with a sigh. “Paul, hello. This really isn’t a good—”
“I know, you’re probably at a crime scene.”
“Five of them, actually.”
“Okay,” he continued. “I just wanted to call, to invite you out for supper sometime.”
She frowned. She knew it wasn’t fair to Paul, and she felt like she was cheating on Gil—even though they hadn’t discussed the possibility of an actual relationship, or commitment. Deep down, she knew it would soon be time to tell Gil how she felt; it wasn’t fair to keep using him.
“Well, I’m not available to do that right now,” she told him honestly. She knew the body count was high, and there wouldn’t be much time to go on a date.
“Well, the offer won’t expire for quite some time, Catherine. So, keep that in mind.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you later, Paul.”
She hung up, and walked towards Nick, who spoke first: “One person dead, it’s a shame. More than one, it’s a party.”
Catherine offered him a smile after crossing the tape. “Get ready to pull a double.” She signed the clipboard the officer offered her and she stepped into the coffee house, ready to work.
~*~
“Grissom.”
No response.
“Grissom?”
No response again. She was beginning to wonder if he was ignoring her. He just sat in his desk, tapping his pencil against his desk, watching the clock.
“Grissom!”
He jumped, looking at her with a weird expression on his face, and then he pulled earplugs out of his ears. “Sorry,” he answered her finally. “I was thinking.”
“About what it’s like to be deaf?” She wondered about him sometimes.
“No,” he shrugged. “About what it’s like to hear.”
She nodded. “Sara told me that you spoke in sign,” she said, referring to her conversation she had with Warrick and a very distressed Sara. “And now you’re putting plugs in your ears.”
He shrugged again. “I’m on a case.”
“Mmhmm. Is that why you forgot about the conference?” She had known he would forget, so she wanted to give him a practice run. She thought about letting it slide, but punctuality was a skill he’d eventually have to learn, so she rationalized her actions as an educational experience he’d need under his belt.
True to form, he replied with a puzzled look on his face: “The what?”
“You missed the deadline,” she told him. “No Chicago for me.”
“Oh, Catherine...”
Catherine saw the guilt written plainly across his face, and thought about letting him off the hook, but ended up continuing her role. “This is the one meeting I needed to attend. I don’t always want to be second banana. I can probably do your job. I know that I can do Ecklie’s.”
“I forgot,” he seemed genuinely remorseful. She felt a twinge of her own guilt in her stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
She nodded. “Make sure you submit the paperwork by the end of the day.”
Confusion washed over his face. “I thought you said that it was too late.”
“Well,” she shrugged. “I knew you’d forget, so I upped the deadline. Gave you a buffer.” She saw disbelief flash across his eyes. He seemed very shocked she’d do that to him. “Don’t forget again.”
She turned and left, hearing him ruffle papers on his desk
~*~
After a couple minutes of rummaging around his cluttered desk, he realized he couldn’t find the papers she wanted him to sign and submit. He groaned, running his hand through his hair; he knew how upset with him she’d be if he had lost the papers.
“Here,” he looked up and saw Catherine coming into his office again. She reached into the basket marked “Inbox” and pulled out a folder. “This is what you have to approve and submit.”
He rolled his eyes. “I already knew where they were... I was looking for something else.”
She smirked, walking to the side of his desk to hand him the folder. “Sure you were. Please don’t forget to send this.” He nodded, and as her presence affected him, he grinned. She met his eyes, and leaned back a little. It was too late though, his hand was already clamped on her wrist. “Gil...”
He tugged and pulled her into his lap. She giggled, as he tickled her; the squirming was driving him crazy. “Cath... let’s not move around too much.”
“Then, don’t tickle me.”
He grinned. “Then don’t assume you know me so well.”
“But,” she countered. “I do. I knew you’d forget.”
“That hurts,” he painted a mock-hurt expression onto his face. “It cuts me deep, Cath.”
“Life’s tough, Gil,” she winked. When she lowered her mouth onto his, he felt his heart rate increase. His grip on her wrist loosened, and he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her down to him. “We can’t do this now...” She whispered.
“Why not?” He asked. “Hasn’t stopped us before.”
“Your door’s open, and it’s the middle of our shift. Anything could happen, anyone could walk in...”
When she was logical, he wanted to kiss the sensibilities away. All he wanted to do was kiss her, and she was being very difficult. He was the supervisor, part of his job was to supervise to prevent in-office relationships from occurring, and he was fully prepared to engage in sexual activity in the office!
He slipped a hand between her legs; even though she was completely clothed, he could still feel the heat emanating from her. “Your body wants to do it.”
She laughed softly, shooing his hand away. “My body always wants to do it around you.”
He blushed, feeling a surge of pride as he processed the knowledge of her strong attraction to him. “That’s good. It’s mutual, in case you wondered.”
As her hand slid down his chest, down his stomach, to squeeze his erection through his pants, he gasped. “Yeah, I sorta figured that out.”
She got up off his lap, and walked to the door. His smile grew when she shut and locked the door. He watched her toss her blazer onto his sofa, while she kicked her shoes off. Next, she took her pants and underwear off.
“You might wanna...” she trailed off, stopping when he reached for his belt to unfasten it; he kept his eyes on her, watched her toss her shirt and bra aside.
She helped him unbutton his shirt, and when he was ready, she sat on top of him, taking him inside of her. He shuddered into her warmth, wondering to himself if he’d ever feel this way about another woman ever again.
Together, they worked each other over. The chair rolled from the desk; she chuckled into his mouth, but stopped to gasp when he grabbed one of her breasts. His other hand moved from her lower back to between them. She moaned softly, her lips tearing from his to travel across his jaw and neck.
He kissed her shoulder; she kept her face buried in his neck, moving up and down, gripping him with her shoulders.
“Cath...” he muttered her name on a groan. She lifted her head and looked at him through foggy eyes. He smiled, recognizing the potent look on her face. He bent down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, laving it with his tongue. She shivered against him; it wasn’t until he bit down gently that he felt her tense around him. She tossed her head back and sighed; he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer.
When he climaxed, they rested together for a few moments, foreheads touching, breathing deep. Catherine was the first to speak; she smiled, and touched his face. “Why do you affect me?”
He chuckled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” she responded, kissing him before getting up to get dressed. “I just think it’s so fascinating...”
She had trailed off when she noticed him watching her intensely as she dressed. He found her just as seductive when she was putting her clothes back on, than when she was removing them. Everything she did affected him. He was glad to know he affected her the same way, too.
“You might want to fix yourself up,” she pointed out, as she reached for her top.
Reluctantly, he stood up, and buttoned his shirt, tucked it and himself back into his pants, and adjusted himself. “Better?”
“Well,” she smiled. “Not really, but for work, yes.”
As he settled back down in his chair, she went to the door, to open it. He was disappointed that their private time was over, even moreso when Warrick walked through the door.
Catherine was settled on the sofa by this point; but, Gil had a sneaking suspicion that the CSI still knew what had happened. He looked perplexed and uncomfortable.
“Hey, Warrick,” Catherine smiled. “What’s up?”
“Nick was looking for you a little while ago,” he commented. Then, he turned to Gil. “Where’d you put the evidence box?”
“The evidence room.”
“Nope.”
Gil wrinkled his brow as he thought about it. “Oh, sorry, Warrick. It’s in the break room.”
“Okay.”
He exited the room immediately. Catherine chuckled. “Guess he didn’t want to stick around.”
“Smart man,” Gil joked, wondering how he was going to get through the rest of the day.
~*~
When Greg told Gil that he should come see what he found, he beckoned Warrick to come with him. Greg rushed to the lab, while the other two men sauntered.
“Warrick, I—”
The younger man cut him off. “Don’t worry, Gris. I’m not saying a word. I haven’t yet, I don’t intend to.”
“Thanks.”
“Just don’t let it get in the way of work.”
The advice was something Gil tried to remind himself of every day. “Yeah, we’re working on that.”
He stopped him between the evidence room and the lab. “Do you love her, Gris?”
Gil nodded. Before either man could say anything, Greg appeared in the hall. “Now, people!” They hurried to follow him. Once inside the lab, Greg grinned. “I am the man.”
Warrick responded first. “Why, what did you do? Let me guess: you ran a profile on the blood found on the dead guy’s knuckles, and you got a match.”
“No.”
Gil tried next, not in the mood for a guessing game. “You ran a DNA profile and something very distinctive popped up.”
“Not quite.”
Warrick tried again: “You made it out of bed and you dressed yourself?”
“No.”
Gil was frustrated. “What is it Greg?”
It was going to be a long shift.
~*~
“H-he-hello?”
“I woke you up,” Gil’s voice could be heard clearly on the line. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” she sat up in bed. “It’s alright. Did you want something?”
Briefly, she thought he might tell her he was in love with the deaf professor, Dr. Gilbert. She had been a little sad, when she saw them talking outside. It had affected the rest of her day; she knew that Nick could sense something was off—when they were looking at the bullets after, he kept eyeing her, checking her over.
“I wanted to know if I could come over and cook you breakfast.”
She smiled. She hadn’t eaten since she came home from work. “Sure. Lindsay’s coming back in a bit. She’ll be glad to see you, too.”
“Okay,” he responded. “I’m just leaving the college now, I’ll stop in at a supermarket, pick a couple things up, and I’ll be right over.”
Catherine ended the conversation with: “Great. See you soon.”
The End!
