Platypus 19: Hurt

Catherine looked out of her car and sighed. First day back, and she had to be paired with Gil. She sighed, and rubbed her stomach without realizing it, and when she did catch herself she cursed softly and struggled to keep her tears at bay.

They had been so happy. Gil was the most adorable father-to-be. She had seen that expression on his face before Lindsay’s birthday once, when he was waving that chemistry set around; that expression had been on his face two months after the Strip Strangler case. And, then, things changed.

Gil had been at work, Lindsay had been at school. Catherine had been given the day off because of a doctor’s appointment. Gil was being overprotective, as usual. She came home from her appointment, and started to clean the house.

She had been mopping the kitchen floor for ten minutes when an awful cramp took hold of her lower torso. She knew it wasn’t good. One trip to the bathroom revealed blood. She had called Gil, and he rushed home to get her to the hospital. The doctor confirmed it, and she was admitted; the miscarriage destroyed her, and destroyed their relationship.

Guilt plagued Gil; she knew it was killing him, but she didn’t know how to relieve him of it. They stopped sleeping together; he either slept at his place, or on Catherine’s sofa. At work, he was gentle with her, giving her the easier cases—until she yelled at him one day for treating her like a porcelain doll. That drove them further apart.

There were kisses here and there, stolen moments where they almost felt normal again. But, it was never the same. So, she took two weeks off, and took Lindsay to California.

And, now, she was back. Ready to work. She wondered what Gil would say to her, if he’d say anything at all. She picked her kit up and left the car, heading towards the house. She passed a few police cars, and a news crew. Helicopters, cameras, crowds of people; everything around her drowned her thoughts out.

She made it to the front door of the house and was stopped by the officer. There he was, bent over with his flashlight. He’s definitely looking for something; it wasn’t his avoidance style, there was probably something he was looking for.

Being the good CSI and friend she always was, she kneeled down to help him. She muttered something, but he dismissed her with his hand. She wanted to yell, but she controlled herself for the sake of her professional life. Instead, she took a deep breath and took her sunglasses off.

“What have you got?”

Again, he didn’t say anything; but he did pick something up. He turned to the officer at the door. “There you go, detective.”

“Thanks. Little tired this morning. Pulling a double.”

Catherine felt like she was pulling a double all summer. It had been the worst summer ever. “Yeah, join the club.”

They stood up together. Finally, Gil addressed her. “Good morning, Catherine.”

She wanted to deck him. Or kiss him. She couldn’t decide which would convince him better than she missed him.

“Good morning, Gil. So this is Tony Braun’s house... Son of Sam Braun.” She wondered briefly how Sam, an old family friend, was handling all of this.

After looking at a photograph, Gil spoke again. She was beginning to think he was working out of his slump. “He was Steve Wynn before Steve Wynn.”

“Oh yeah,” she responded while putting her latex gloves on. “You bet your ass. Sam came to Vegas when Vegas was dying. Built three casinos in a year. Had ties to Bugsy Siegel.”


Gil walked with Catherine past Brass. The body was nearby. Catherine’s body, though, was the one that was on his mind. He had thought the two weeks off would give him the distance he needed to handle what had happened between them. He thought wrong; the two weeks apart made him want to smother her with kisses and tell her how sorry he was and never let her go again.

“All seems very neat and peaceful, doesn’t it?”

Catherine responded, focusing on the heroin and the foil. “Chasing the dragon. A pinch of H. Heat the foil, inhale the fumes.

Gil noticed the label on the prescription and picked it up. “With a Xanax back. 100 pills. Prescription filled yesterday.”

Brass spoke next. After so much time, Gil noticed they all still worked well together. Even Catherine, who probably hated him beyond normal capability, was able to be professional. “So the rumours about ol’ Tony Boy are true. Drug overdose.”

Catherine was next: “It sure seems that way.”

Gil shook his head. He didn’t know what he was talking about when he spoke, but it seemed to fit everything: “If only life were that simple.”

Brass’ cell phone started to ring. While he answered it, Catherine turned to Gil. “Can we go outside for a second?”


“Well,” she sighed, avoiding his eyes initially. “I was hoping to say some things, and then,” she brought her eyes to his; he saw the pain reflected there. “I was hoping you would say some things, like the things you say to someone you practically break up with, without any logical explanation. And then, we could just take it from there.”

He managed a half-smile. “Sure.”

They stepped out into the yard. Nick’s car was just pulling into the driveway. Catherine put a hand on his arm once they stopped moving. “I hate to be the first one to say this, but I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Come back with me after shift,” she almost sounded desperate. In the sunlight, he could see how worn ragged she was. Her eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually did. “The house isn’t the same without you. Even Lindsay’s at odds.” She smiled. “She misses your bugs.”

Gil shrugged. “I don’t want to make things harder...”

“It wasn’t your fault my body’s getting old and shriveled.”

“You’re not old. It happens...”

Before he could react, her arms were around his waist. “Exactly. It happens. We’ll try again. I’m always game,” he chuckled despite his heavy heart. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Gil.”

“I haven’t stopped loving you, either.”

She rested against his chest. “Good. Promise me you’ll come home tonight?”

He gave in and wrapped his arms around her. He could never refuse her. “Alright.”

“And,” she added, after pulling out of his arms. “No sleeping on the couch. I intend to take you to bed.”

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, to put a soft kiss in her palm. He felt her shudder. “We’re going to have a long talk, first, though, Cath.”

“We need to,” she smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”


“Janine Haywood.”

Sam grimaced. “She’s the worst, and he loved her the most. Can you believe it?”

Catherine could see it happening. It had happened to herself once. “Yeah, I do.”

“If I know her type, now that she has the gold she’ll be going after the silver.” Catherine thought on what he said, but said nothing. Then, he turned to look at her. “How are things with you?”

She snorted. “Been better.”

“Any new men I should be beating back for you?”

She chuckled. “Nah, it’s hard to attract men when you’re working honestly. Somehow, when you’re all dressed, they don’t find you as attractive.”

“Now, that I find hard to believe.”

“Well,” she admitted. “There is one.”

Sam grinned, despite the rough couple of days he’s had. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Longtime friend. Love, whole nine yards...”


She shrugged. “I got pregnant, and then miscarried. He blames himself, even though he wasn’t there at the time, and things have been strained ever since.”

“How long ago was that?”

“May, I guess.”

“And he’s still keeping himself distanced?” Catherine sighed and nodded. “He’s scared, or something.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

Sam smiled again. “You’re just gonna have to help him get over that fear.”


In the Print Lab, Gil watched Catherine at the monitor. Even in the ghastly glow of the screen, she was beautiful. She spoke, shaking him from his reflection: “Okay, on the left, Braun prints we got from the coroner, and on the right, gold digger prints I got from Janine Haywood.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” he added. “I took six prints off this bottle.”


“They all belong to one person.”

He could see her frustration with him, but he liked dragging things out. Especially if it meant spending more time with Catherine. “Good thing or... bad thing?”

“It’s good if you’re us...” They both looked at the computer when it beeped. There was a match. Gil added: “Bad if you’re Janine Haywood.”

Catherine looked pleased. She turned to him. “Good work.”

When she put her hand on top of his, he looked up. “Cath? We’re at work..”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.” She reached up with her other and and kissed him. He gasped, and when his lips parted, she took advantage. He missed her more than he could articulate; he knew he had been foolish, giving her so much space. When she ended the kiss, which was much to short for his liking, she spoke softly: “See what you’ve been missing?”

“We should be getting back to work,” he smiled, blushing like a fool.

She nodded, while kissing him again. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right.”

He stood up first, pressing his lips to the top of her head while picking up his coffee cup. “I’ll see you later. Promise.”

He walked out of the room, and sipped his coffee. It was really awful. But, he realized, anything would taste awful compared to Catherine’s lips. When he started thinking about her lips, he felt himself heat up. He saw Warrick and tried to press the sexual urges away.

“Have you seen Brass?” Warrick asked as they walked together.

“Not tonight,” he replied. “No. Why?”


Sam had his arms around Catherine’s shoulders. He was walking her to Gil. She had told him to meet her downtown, after her followup with her old friend.

“You know, this... this could’ve been all his. His and Tony’s.”

She tried to soothe him. “It’s not your fault.”

“Sure it is. I committed the cardinal sin. I loved one son more than the other.”

“It’s human nature,” she continued, desperately trying to make him feel better. She hated seeing her friends in pain. “We can’t deny our feelings.”

“But,” he countered. “You can hide it. And I didn’t. They’re my sons... I made them... I raised them...” he sighed softly. “And one kills the other.”

She smiled, trying to cheer him up. “Hey, Sam, you still got me.”

“You know,” he responded. “I should’ve married your mother.”

Catherine reflected; things would’ve been so different if that had happened. She didn’t regret that it did, but she knew things would’ve been very different. “Well, considering I was six months old when you guys lit the flame, a lot of time has passed. You had plenty of chances.”

“Just wasn’t in the cards, Catherine, it wasn’t in the cards.”

They walked outside. Gil, as he promised, was waiting outside her Tahoe. He smiled when his eyes met hers. “This is the man you were telling me about?”

Catherine nodded. When they were close enough, she introduced them. “Sam, this is Gil Grissom. Gil, Sam Braun.”

They shook hands. Gil smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Me, too,” Sam frowned. “But, like I said earlier, I still have Mugs, here. Awfully lucky.”

Catherine blushed. She hated when Sam lavished affection on her. “Aww, c’mon, Sam...”

Gil nodded. “Anyone would be lucky to have Cath in their life.”

“Gil...” She couldn’t handle it. Her face was going to light on fire, in front of the entire casino. “Can we go home now?”

When Gil nodded and opened the door for her, she turned to Sam, who spoke to Gil first: “Make sure you stay at home with her. I hear she’s been real lonely lately.”

“You’re awful,” she grinned at the older man, kissing his cheek before getting in the car. “Call me sometime, okay?”

“I will. Take care of each other.”


Gil took a deep breath before stepping into the house behind Catherine. When she turned to look at him, he saw a tentative smile on her face. “I’ve got you here, finally.” He smiled back at her while taking his coat off. He watched her slip out of hers, and then her shirt. When he asked her what she was doing, she shrugged. “I don’t feel like talking right now.”


“Gil,” she neared him, half-naked. “Lindsay’s out with Eddie. We have a couple more hours to ourselves... please... just forget about your fears. If I have to tie you up, I will.”

He smirked, white-hot desire shooting through him. “I don’t doubt that for a second.” When her hands snaked out to his shirt, he asked tentatively: “Are you sure you don’t want to talk first?”

She shrugged. “You love me, right?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I love you.”

She smiled, kissing his neck. “Then, that’s all we need to talk about right now. Later, we’ll cover the hard stuff.” One of her hands snaked down past his waistband of his pants. He bucked against her. “Or, maybe I’ll cover the hard stuff now.”

He groaned when she pulled his shirt off and raked her nails over his chest. Logical sensibilities flew out of his head as she grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the bedroom.

She bruised his lips with hers once they were behind the closed door, her hands gripping his shoulders. His hands sought her waist, fingers expanding over the bare flesh he missed so much. “See?” She grinned. “Much better than talking.”

He hummed while exploring her shoulder with his lips, sucking, licking, nibbling. She moaned and struggled to undo his pants. His hands were also busy with her pants.

Somehow, they made it to the bed, still struggling with their clothes. Once he had her completely undressed, he leaned up on his elbows and admired her. He felt tears in his eyes, and didn’t bother to wipe them away. She reached up for him. “C’m’ere, Gil.”

He kissed her lips once, but traveled lower, knowing what he needed to do. He lavished the breasts of the woman he missed so much, before going lower. When he kissed her stomach, the tears returned. He felt her hands in his hair, stroking him gently, but he didn’t stop; the tears turned into sobs, and he was crying against her.

“Gil... baby...” Somehow, she pulled him up. She planted kisses all over his face, trying to wipe away the tears and the stains they left on his face. “I love you.”

“I love you...” He whispered while she moved underneath him. “I’m so sorry about everything...”

“Kiss me,” she whispered back, parting her legs. He felt her underneath him; she nodded, and with that, he slid into her for the first time in months. She gasped and arched her back against him, hands reaching for him. She stroked and scratched; he kissed and caressed.

Together, they moved until Gil didn’t think he could take it anymore. She smiled when she saw his eyes flutter. “Stay with me, Gil,” she murmured, taking her hand and sliding it between them. When he felt what she was doing to herself, he put his own hand under hers, and with a slow smile he helped her find a release. Her muscles tightened around him until he couldn’t take it anymore; at that point, he tucked his face into her shoulder, and shuddered, while his release washed over him.

She rubbed her hands over his damp back, whispering sweet words in his ear. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She kissed his chest. She spoke first. “You’re not going to leave me again, are you?”


“Good, because it really hurt.”

The End!

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