“Gil!” Catherine looked at her friend/lover/boss, and frowned. “I can’t believe you just...” She blushed. “I can’t believe you just handcuffed me to the Tahoe!”
He grinned. “Payback.” He brought his hand up and toyed with the buttons on her blouse. “Now, you should hope that I don’t fall asleep in here.”
They had been at a drive-in, watching some movie that starred Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson. She had suggested the drive-in, because they rarely went on dates; but, this movie hadn’t been appealing to either of them, and they started to find other sources of entertainment.
“Where did you get those, anyway?”
“Borrowed them from a friend.”
“I swear, Gil, if you told Brass WHY you needed these—”
He popped her shirt open. “Right, Cath. Like I was going to tell Jim that I needed them to handcuff you up, in order to exact my revenge on you... because you fell asleep and left me tied to the bed all night.”
“I apologized,” she pouted, struggling against the handcuffs that were attached to the handle above the door. “What if someone sees?”
He shrugged. “It’s dark back here. Tinted glass, remember?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Everyone here’s doing the same thing, Cath.”
She growled and flopped her wrists around a little. She couldn’t believe his nerve. His hands held her hips, while he kissed her exposed chest; she felt her anger ebbing away, but she kept the facade up—she didn’t want to give in that easily.
He chuckled when she reacted to his tongue in her navel. When he tugged on her skirt, she fought the urge to moan. He was winning.
“Stay with me,” he looked up at her and smiled sweetly. She rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t want me thinking you were actually enjoying this...”
“Gil...” She gritted her teeth together, mostly to keep the next moan from escaping her mouth, as he slid his hands under her skirt to pull her underwear down. “I swear, I’m going to get you back.”
“Says the one wearing the cuffs.”
He bent his head. When his mouth made contact with her inner thigh, first the left and then the right, she yelped softly. He laughed into her, but kept going.
She watched him; his forehead was wrinkled, indicating deep thought, but his eyes were laughing at her. She wondered what was going on in his head. His grip tightened on her hips; she had been wriggling, despite how hard it was to do from her semi-suspended position.
And, then, her facade was blown away. Many questions begging to be asked; she looked at him, but got nothing. His laughing reaction created more vibration and soon, she found herself spiraling into an orgasm that left her shaking.
When it was over, she looked down at him. He held the small white wand up and turned it off. “Where did you find that?”
He blushed. “I was looking for a pen. I found it in your bottom desk drawer.”
“I wondered where I put that...” She smiled. “Was it dusty?”
“A little, yeah,” he grinned, letting her go so he could sit underneath her. “Not that I minded. In fact, I was sort of glad it was dusty.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah,” she said when she was done laughing. “I can imagine it would cheer you up.” She sighed. “I couldn’t tell you the last time...” She trailed off. “Gil... I’d really like it if you could untie me.”
He shook his head. “Not done yet.”
“What?”
Gil didn’t get to explain. His hand had been on his belt buckle, but when both of their pagers went off, she knew it wasn’t the time. “Damn,” she sighed, when he showed her the display. “High school student?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Awful.”
“Gil?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna untie me?”
He chuckled sadly. “What would you have said if I said no?”
“I would’ve kicked your ass.”
He fished the key out of his coat pocket. “Here,” he said, uncuffing her, rubbing her wrists. “Now, you’re free.”
“Are we even?”
Gil shrugged. “Not sure yet. We’ll see.”
~*~
Brass gave Gil some information on the victim: “Barry Schickel. Wallet’s still with him. With cash. “A” student. Recently voted class clown.”
Gil looked over the dead body, looking for obvious clues. He saw the officer closeby, as he crouched down, fighting the urge to growl. He disliked it when the officers felt the need to crowd him; he didn’t crowd them when they were working, so he didn’t see why they had to do it to him.
“Strange, people aren’t usually scared of class clowns.”
Jim kneeled down, too. “Who said the shooter was scared?”
Gil answered: “Shot him in the back.”
He was catching on. “With his zipper down and his hands otherwise engaged.”
“Yeah,” Gil finalized his decision, based on the evidence. “We’re looking for a coward.”
The personnel from the Coroner’s Office came in, took the victim’s liver temperature, as well as some pictures, and then prepared the body for transport. They wheeled the body out. Gil watched it leave, his heart heavy; he hated crimes involving young people, they always got to him.
In the background, he heard Catherine yelling at someone; it sounded like he was a janitor. Something about cleaning graffiti. He smiled, thinking about how attractive she was when she was angry.
“So, what now?”
Gil sighed, shaking thoughts of Catherine from his head. He looked at Jim, and asked: “When’s the principal coming?”
~*~
Gil had been working for sometime when Catherine and Warrick came into the bathroom. She cringed inside; she felt bad that they were late. “Hi,” she said weakly, avoiding excuses because she knew they wouldn’t do her any good.
Warrick, however, didn’t know this. “Construction on Flamingo. I’m sorry.”
Gil spoke to Warrick first. “Give me a hand, will you?”
“Yeah,” he replied, while putting his kit down. Catherine watched Gil take some pink string out to unravel it towards the bullet hole in the wall.
“A .38?”
Gil corrected him. “.44. Here,” he handed the string to Warrick. “Take this.”
Catherine, meanwhile, started looking at the wall in the bathroom stall. She noticed a smudged print. She called out to them. “Brass said the victim had a can of spray paint, right?”
“Orange,” Gil replied. “By my kit. It was in his backpack.”
She pulled her camera up and took a picture of the print. Then, she crouched down to pick up the paint can. She couldn’t help but sigh; she hated crimes involving kids, mostly because of her mothering instinct. She had been so happy earlier, and coming to work to process this was a little harder than she would’ve liked.
“Did you get something?”
She replied to Gil’s question: “Paint from another source. I’m going to find out who belonged to that locker.” With that, she left, pausing outside of the door to take a deep breath. She didn’t want Gil to worry about her; she shouldn’t even be so bothered, and she knew that would be what he’d say.
“What were you?” She overhead Warrick ask Gil. “A jock or a brain?”
Catherine smiled, picturing Gil as a jock. She couldn’t see it happening. He answered: “I was a ghost.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she walked towards the officer waiting at the end of the hall.
~*~
She smiled as Nick and Sara left the room. “So, that leaves you, Warrick. What were you?”
“Oh,” he responded. “I was short, I had big feet, thick glasses.”
She couldn’t believe it. Warrick was one of the sexiest men she had ever seen. “You?”
He responded: “Yeah. I got pushed around by all the guys, and never got any play from the girls...”
Catherine imagined that those girls were kicking themselves now. He had grown up into an amazing specimen of a man. “The girls didn’t even notice your eyes?”
“No, they used to tease me about my eyes. Called me names.”
“Awww...” She spoke. “Well, what do they know? They’re your best feature.”
Warrick shrugged. “I didn’t have a best feature in high school. Looking back on it now I can say I could see both sides of it thinking about this guy Barry Schickel, and how he was shot and whichever kid did it. I'm not saying it was right, but I kind understand, you know?”
She sighed softly. She hadn’t been one of those kids that got picked on, but she could still understand. “Yeah.”
“How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Alright.”
“Have you been to a doctor lately?”
She chuckled. “You are worse than Gil, you know that?” He chuckled with her. “Even when we thought we were having a baby... and then when I miscarried...” She sighed. “Well, you were there for some of that.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you two made up.”
“Me, too. He was taking it so hard...” She smiled back at him. “I’m glad he had you to talk to.”
Warrick blushed a little. Catherine had found out later, that while Gil was having problems with the miscarriage, he would talk to Warrick about it, being his only friend from work who knew anything about his situation. “It was nothing. I was worried about you, too.”
“I can handle myself, though.”
“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “Right.”
Catherine laughed softly.
~*~
She had been walking by when she saw Gil rummaging for something. Seeing the envelope on the desk, already addressed, she assumed he was looking for stamps and walked in. She had used them the other day, and put them back where he had them. So, as long as he didn’t do any rearranging while she hadn’t been paying attention, they would still be there.
Wordlessly, she walked into his office, and went straight to the container. WHen she pulled them out and handed them over, she saw the look in his eyes, and almost chuckled. She knew he’d probably be steamed for a little while, over the fact that she knew him so well, and that he would’ve found them eventually. But, she couldn’t resist.
Once back in the hall, she called out to Warrick, who was walking towards her. “Guess what Gil’s sending out?”
“Purchase order for the Cyranose?”
She grinned, watching from a distance as Warrick stopped in front of Gil’s door. She saw him smile and keep walking. She was glad Gil was buying the toy; from what she heard, the software really helped, and the mechanical nose would make things a little easier.
After stopping in the locker room, she stopped into the break room, where she wrote a note down on a piece of lined paper. She picked her purse up and took the note outside to Gil’s Tahoe. She slipped it under his windshield wiper, and then got into her own car and drove away.
~*~
On the way to his car, Gil noticed a piece of paper under his wiper. Once he got to the Tahoe, he pulled it free and read it under his breath: “Found a use for your place. Come quick.” She had drawn a winking smiley face next to her message, followed by a heart.
He got in and drove off, curious to see what would be waiting for him.
When he arrived at his townhouse, he saw that some lights were on. He didn’t bother bringing his briefcase in with him; he knew that once they were done whatever she wanted to do there, they’d both go back to her place to sleep and spend the early evening with Lindsay. His paperwork could wait until they went back to her place.
He rushed to the door, and opened it. Inside his living room, sitting on the sofa, was Catherine—clad in a cheerleading uniform.
“Surprise,” she smiled, her voice silky smooth.
“You never told me you were a cheerleader...” He grinned. The outfit was too small for her, but by hugging to her so tightly and by being so short, she just looked too sexy. He couldn’t even articulate it.
She nodded. “Yeah. Took me a little while to find it. Took me even longer to get into it.” She smirked. “Thought you’d like to sleep with a cheerleader.”
“No revenge?”
Catherine grinned, picking up a shiny tube of lipgloss and putting it to her lips. He had never seen her lips so... coated, but it was still a sensual look for her. She shook her head. “Nope. No revenge for you tonight.”
He sighed, relieved. He took his coat off and made his way to her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. The gloss tasted like strawberries; he wasn’t complaining. He smirked. “As a ghost,” he murmured in her hair. “I never got to sleep with a cheerleader.”
She chuckled. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night.”
“Are you going to do one of those... ahh... routines for me?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she glanced up at him disapprovingly, while helping him out of his shirt. Once that was cast aside, she slid her hands over his chest; he thought his knees were going to buckle when her hands continued over his shoulders, down his back, and into his back. “But, you might get lucky,” she giggled.
“Good,” he muttered while she dragged him to the sofa. She messed around with his pants, while he sat and watched her. He took in the image in front of her, and realized how lucky he was; not only was there lust and adventure between them, there was love.
She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I saw that look. No mushy thoughts.”
“Huh?”
Her smile stretched. “It must really bug you that I know you so well. You were thinking lovey-dovey thoughts. How lucky you were, yadda yadda yadda.”
“Do my thoughts get written across my forehead?” He sighed. “Or do I have a thought balloon over my head?”
“Neither,” she grinned. “I can read your mind, is all.”
He pulled her up into his lap. While he discovered that she wasn’t wearing any underwear, she busied herself by leaving glossy lip marks all over his chest. He slipped two fingers into her, and felt her fall forward. He whispered in her ear, and together they moved to the floor.
On her hands and knees, he watched her turn to look at him. He continued his manual ministrations; she managed to stick her tongue out at him, before leaning back into him and moaning softly.
When he removed his fingers, her breath was ragged. She shot him a look, a frustrated look that he knew well. From behind, he entered her, releasing a groan of his own as her warmth wrapped around him.
Together they moved. He reached around her with one hand, sliding underneath her cheer sweater. She grunted softly. He tried to help her climax first; when he heard her familiar sigh and moan, he knew she was close. He pushed harder, until she fell off the plateau she had been resting on.
His speed increased, working her through her release, helping Gil find his own. He moaned as it hit, and collapsed against her.
Without words, they adjusted their positions, so Catherine was lying on her back, cradled in Gil’s arms. “So,” she asked after a long and comfortable silence. “Was she as good as the football captain bragged?”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Even better.”
The End!
