Catherine inhaled a shaky breath and locked herself in Gil's office. Her nerves were in some sort of overdrive; her body was reacting badly.
She knew she needed to calm down. If she didn't, she knew she'd get into trouble.
The case was getting to her. She acted calmly in front of everyone to preserve her self-image, to be the dependable rock that she often was for her co-workers. But, underneath the surface, she was a wreck. Rushed cases always affected her.
She had told Warrick her theory about rushed cases. He bought it. And it seemed to calm him down a bit. He hugged her to thank her, and she felt her pulse rise up into her throat and she wanted to act out. She wanted to give her unsettled nerves and racing pulse something to sink into; with other rushed cases, she had Gil and they'd lock themselves up for twenty minutes in his office. Gil wasn't there---and Warrick was.
It had taken her a very difficult minute to extricate herself. He looked at her quizzically, but didn't ask questions. She smiled and tilted her head sideways, before saying that they should go check on Greg's progress.
She saw Gil and knew that she needed him; she needed some sort of adrenaline release so she could focus on the science.
But then the sheriff arrived and then they started taking the evidence in a different direction.
And when she finally had a moment to catch up with Gil, she caught a glimpse of Sara rushing out of a room with flushed cheeks and a bowed head. She looked rattled. Catherine peeked inside the room and saw Gil, staring off into space and looking perplexed.
She didn't bother asking about Sara. She returned to work.
In the emptiness of Gil's office, though, she couldn't keep herself from asking those questions
"So, I liked your tough act yesterday," she said, hoping to bait him into a conversation that could put her at ease.
"'I hand out the assignments. This isn't a negotiation.'"
"What, too much?"
Catherine shook her head. The only logical answer to the question was: "Not enough."
Not enough raw sexuality, not enough scolding of Sara... not enough of anything that Catherine needed.
He turned to look at her, but didn't say anything for a while.
When Matthews had ushered his client out of the room, Gil touched Catherine's elbow. "You thought I was tough?"
"Oh, yeah," she murmured, not looking at him as she nodded. "It really turned me on."
Catherine chuckled and shook her head. She patted his hand, the one that lingered on his elbow, and then she stepped away. "I'll go catch up with Warrick," she told him.
She walked slowly down the hall. She was thinking about the next step in the investigation (and only a little about Gil), when she passed Gil's office---and was promptly tugged inside.
Gil smiled as he clamped his hand over her mouth and shut the door. She nodded and he moved his hand away. He flicked the lock shut and then promptly kissed her.
Catherine smothered a whimper and wrapped her arms around his neck.
They kissed for a few minutes, and then Gil pulled back and stepped to his desk. He picked up a pen and wrote something on the back of a piece of paper.
'Rushed case. Quick break?'
Catherine nodded and smiled. That was what she wanted; she wanted to sink down onto someone warm and lose herself, her mind. She wanted to let her high-paced pulse take over; she wanted to forget that the case was still so far from being solved.
Gil quickly scribbled something else. 'Sorry no voice.'
She almost laughed. Instead, she reached for him and kissed him soundly. Gil reacted quickly; he put his hands on Catherine's waist and he lifted her up onto the desk. First, he tugged her dark red shirt off and then he worked on her pants. She toed her shoes off and flipped her bra across the room; in the meantime, Gil had picked his pocket knife out of his pocket and snapped it open.
Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. And then her eyes widened as he cut her underwear off.
Gil smirked at her and then started on his own clothes.
They returned to kissing when Gil was pretty well undressed. Catherine opened her legs and invited him in; her arms around his shoulders completed the offer.
He accepted her invitation and wrapped his arms around her as well. Catherine deepened the kiss; she wanted more, she wanted to burn up on the top of Gil's desk.
When he refused to give her the intensity she craved, Catherine pulled back enough so she could bite his lower lip.
Gil startled---and almost groaned. And then, he growled under his breath and started kissing and nibbling on her neck.
Catherine let her head fall back. Gil took advantage of the extra room and decided to bite down on one of her pulse points. She didn't make a sound; instead, she dug her nails into his shoulders and raked them through his skin.
Her actions spurred his which spurred hers again. The cycle was just what Catherine wanted.
Before she knew it, Gil was pushing his erection inside of her. Catherine clawed into him again and pressed her heels to the tops of the backs of his thighs.
They moved against each other, kissing the entire time. Catherine released his shoulders and brought her hands to his head. When she scratched under his hair, along his sensitive scalp, she felt him quell the urge to groan. When he had regained his control again, he put his hands under her thighs and hoisted her up.
She landed against the wall with just the right amount of force; she tightened around Gil's body and resumed kissing him. She returned to scratching her nails against his scalp every few minutes---just to keep him on edge.
Gil grunted and thrust hard, as if he was attempting to nail her to the wall.
Catherine didn't mind. She was so close to completely unspooling that she didn't care how hard he pinned her to the wall, how hard he thrust into her. She let her head tilt back and she clung to him with her legs and nails.
When she knew her orgasm was approaching, she dropped her head to his shoulder. As the first crash hit her hard, she sank her teeth into his previously-damaged shoulder and sucked hard with her mouth.
Gil (somehow, miraculously) managed to keep a tenuous grip on his control as he hit his own climax.
They slowly fell away from each other, wincing as they moved. Catherine picked up her pants and then glared at Gil.
She picked up the paper and wrote something on it.
'No spare panties in locker!'
Gil almost laughed.
Gil had taken the paper and ripped it into tiny pieces, before tossing it into his coffee cup. Catherine sighed and watched him stir the pieces around with his spoon.
Destroying the evidence was hard to do. It was annoying, too. She hated that they had to hide so much of themselves.
She rubbed his shoulders and then straightened out the rest of the desk. She pocketed her underwear, and then thought of a better ides---so she tucked them into his pocket.
He smiled and shook his head a little. She smiled back.
Her pulse was calmer. She felt a bit better---a bit more optimistic that they would solve the case in time. She even felt better about her relationship; he kept looking at her with a dopey, happy look in his eyes. He couldn't manufacture that.
When Warrick knocked on the door, Gil opened it. "Hey," he said. "Is Catherine around here?"
"Yeah," Catherine replied, walking from Gil's desk to a spot where their colleague could see her. "Truck all gassed up?"
"And ready to go," he told her. He eyed them both and then added, "Unless you'd like to stay here and---"
"Do his paperwork?" Catherine said quickly, as she gave a slight shake of her head. "No, thank you. I'll go with you. Just give me a minute, okay?"
Warrick nodded. "Sure thing, boss," he said with a teasing smile.
Catherine laughed softly and after the darker male was gone, she tugged Gil off to the side and kissed him gently.
"Thank you for that," she said quietly. "I... we... you know."
"Yeah, I do," he replied, nodding. "Good luck with the car wash," he added.
"Thanks. I'll catch up with you later," she promised.
She squeezed his shoulder, smirked when he winced and gave her a look that told her he would get her back, and then she took off for the building's exit.