"Willows," Catherine said into her cellular phone as she stood up and walked towards the door.
"Catherine? It's Sara."
As she talked, Catherine tucked her hair behind her ear. "Hi, Sara. Are you still at the house, because---"
"You've gotta... I have to tell you this. What I found---" Sara said, tumbling over her own words. "I called the university and there's no Brit Mosscoe registered there, now or in the past. So I was looking around Greer's place and I saw a calendar. The name's an anagram. She's a ruse," she said as Catherine listened, walking towards Jim and Gil, "she's an anagram for Miss October. But what I don't get is why---"
"Slow down," Catherine advised.
"You have to tell Grissom and Brass and then get Greer to tell you why he drew her, too," Sara insisted.
After ending the call, she looked at the men. "The sixth victim is a ruse," she explained to them. "He drew her off a calendar. Brit Mosscoe is an anagram for Miss October."
Gil looked up at her, puzzled. "So, where's he taking us?"
Brass rolled his eyes. "Well," he said as he pushed himself up, "I'm going to go find out where we're going."
Once the other man's back was turned, Gil had stood up, so Catherine reached out and put her hand on his arm. "I'm going back to your office, okay?"
He nodded and gave her a small smile as he put his hand over hers. "I'll see you when I get back," he promised.
She smiled and turned to walk away. She reached the end of the hall before she heard a loud commotion behind her; by the time she started to make her way back to the bathroom, she saw Gil emerge. A sad look had taken over his features; their eyes met and his gaze chilled her to the bone. She sensed the killer was dead, somehow, by looking in his eyes, and that thought stopped her in her tracks.
Gil disappeared into the interview room. She inhaled slowly and walked towards the room.
"Gil?"
He turned, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "I..." he trailed off and sighed.
Catherine stepped into the room. She put her hand on his lower back as she leaned in and looked at the drawing. The word 'good-bye' made her shiver. Gil must have felt it, because he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"It's over," she whispered.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly before he slipped away from her. He turned his head, met her gaze, and sighed again. "I'll stay and process the bathroom. It's an open and shut case... shouldn't take too long."
"I'll go home and relieve my mother," Catherine said after swallowing hard. "Come over when you're finished, okay?" she insisted. "I'll draw you a bath, cook you a meal..."
"What are you, my mother?" Gil asked, his lips quirking into a small, amused smile.
She was relieved that he hadn't lost his sense of humour. After a little chuckle, she shook her head. "No," she replied, "I'm your lover... and I'm going to take care of you tonight."
Gil nodded and his smile was more genuine. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll come by when I'm finished."
&&&&
When he finally arrived at Catherine's house, all of the lights were off. He had called Catherine when he knew he wouldn't be leaving in time for a meal, to warn her; she had replied by insisting that he come to her house, no matter what time he finished.
He appreciated having a home to go to, a friend and lover who cared enough about him to welcome him there after a crummy night. Catherine always knew what he needed. That night, he just needed her, a warm bed, and some sleep to help him forget about the murderer who killed himself in the bathroom.
After walking into the house, he locked the door and took off his jacket and shoes. He set his bag by the closet and went to the kitchen.
Gil had expected to find some leftovers there he could snack on but was surprised when he saw a sandwich, wrapped in plastic, and a bottle of beer on one of the shelves. A small note was on top of the sandwich.
"Eat this," the note read, "and then get a shower and come to bed. Love, Catherine."
He smiled and took the light meal out of the fridge and sat down at the counter. He wished he could find the words to tell Catherine how much he appreciated her---and how glad he was that their relationship was normalising. After she left his bed, after her night of too much of tequila, he had had to approach her carefully because she was skittish; he knew she had been embarrassed by her behavior and he understood that sentiment, but he missed their easy rapport. It seemed as though they were back on track.
Once he finished the sandwich and most of the beer, he put the dish in the dishwasher and the bottle in the recycling bin before doing the other thing the note suggested. He took his time in the shower, using the pumpkin-and-spice soaps Catherine kept stocked in her bathroom, washing the depressed mood away with her signature scent.
When he stepped into the bedroom, a towel wrapped his waist, he turned the bathroom light off and surveyed the scene in front of him.
Catherine was sound asleep, on her back, without a stitch of clothing on. The bedcovers had been over her body at one point, but it looked like she had kicked them to the foot of the bed in her sleep. He smiled a little and closed the bedroom door before dropping the towel in the laundry basket and making his way over to the bed, using memory more than his eyes in the dark room.
He sat down on the foot of the bed and put his hand on her ankle. He loved the way her skin felt, soft and smooth under his fingertips. He sighed softly and closed his eyes as his fingers travelled over her leg, traveling upwards towards her knee. When she didn't wake up, he decided to continue his exploration of her body; she had given him permission to explore his curiosities, so he didn't think she'd mind. He pressed his lips to the inside of her knee and waited to see if she'd wake up.
By the time he had gently spread her legs and settled himself down between them, on his stomach, Catherine still hadn't woken up. He pressed a few kisses to the inside of her thighs and slowly eased her legs further apart; he smiled when he saw that she was a little aroused, having reacted to his gentle caresses in her sleep.
&&&&
"Where am I?" Catherine asked quietly, looking around the lavishly decorated bedroom. She didn't understand why everything was in black and white, but that wasn't her main concern. She had never seen the room she was in before---and she had no idea why she felt so warm and so aroused.
When she saw Lady Heather standing at the foot of her bed, she moaned and felt something pressing against her clitoris.
The brunette smiled. "How are you enjoying this?"
"Mmm... less pain than the last time you and I were in a bedroom together," Catherine whimpered, arching her body in response to the tingling that developed between her legs. "How are you... who's doing this to me?"
"Who do you want it to be?" Lady Heather asked.
"Don't care... just don't stop," Catherine whispered.
Lady Heather walked from the foot to the head of the bed. She sat down next to Catherine and eased herself down onto her level. She put her hand over Catherine's heart and at that moment, the strawberry blonde was made very aware of how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. She sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes.
She felt the other woman's fingers in her hair before she heard her whisper.
"Look down. See who it is," Heather whispered.
Catherine moaned as she felt the assailant gently press his finger against her cervix, before rubbing its tip around the outside of the small dome of tissue. The other woman insisted again that she open her eyes and look down between her legs.
When Catherine thought she saw Warrick nestled there, she blinked hard. After a few blinks, she could have sworn she saw Nick. After another few blinks, it was Gil. She relaxed against Lady Heather, closed her eyes, and whimpered for Gil to stop tormenting her.
"I'm not tormenting you," Gil whispered in her ear, an amused tone in his voice.
Catherine opened her eyes and turned her head. Gil was at her side, holding her close; she looked down and saw the top of Lady Heather's head.
"Oh god," she moaned, closing her eyes and falling back against the pillows.
&&&&
Gil smirked as he heard Catherine sleepily mumble something about him and Lady Heather working together, against Catherine. He pressed his open mouth to the inside of her upper thigh while slowly inserting his fingers inside of her core again; he felt for the small cleft, what he guessed was her cervix, and he used her sighs to guide his journey.
She fell still, mumbling under her breath. Gil kissed his way inwards; as he pulled his fingers out of her body, he moved his mouth over the damp flesh.
At first, he licked slowly, from her vaginal entrance to the folds of skin where her swollen bundle of nerves was located, then down one side and along the other in a long, circular movement. Then, he sucked one of her lower, outer lips into his mouth; after nibbling on it, he sucked on and laved it with his tongue before moving onto its mate. He went slowly---not because he was afraid of waking her up, but because he wanted to lose himself in Catherine and in activities that would chase away the darkness inside of him.
A few minutes later, Gil lifted his head and kissed her stomach. As he crawled over her, he kissed his way up her body. He kissed her throat and then her jaw, before placing a light kiss on her lips.
Catherine made a quiet noise in the back of her throat and she turned her head to one side before stretching her arms out to her sides. Gil hesitated, unsure if he should continue; when Catherine stilled, though, his curiosity took over and he positioned his erection, which had developed during his oral exploration of her body, against her slick opening.
Slowly, he pressed himself inside of her. Inch by inch, he sheathed himself in her body; once they were completely joined, Gil dropped his head to Catherine's shoulder and shakily exhaled. Then, he started to move. His thrusts were restrained at first, but he gradually introduced more force to his hips' actions.
Catherine's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Gil gasped in surprise and then groaned as his climax unexpectedly hit him; his hips flexed against hers before he could control it and he felt himself twitch inside of her. He groaned and closed his eyes until he heard Catherine whisper his name. Gil opened his eyes and waited for her reaction.
She gave him a sleepy, aroused smile, and then she leaned up and kissed him.
"I had a very good dream," she whispered as she settled back against the pillows and put her hands on his chest.
"I know," he murmured, smirking at her. "You were mumbling in your sleep."
She chuckled and tugged him down for another kiss. "I like waking up like this," she whispered.
He let his body relax against hers as much as he could without crushing her and then he kissed her again. "I was surprised," he admitted, "that you didn't wake up."
"I... I had a couple glasses of wine before I went to bed," she conceded. "I didn't know if you'd... or if you'd just wake me up to talk... but... I knew you'd need something..."
Gil didn't know if he was allowed to vocalise how much he loved her, so he kissed her when she trailed off---instead of putting his emotions into words. Catherine seemed to accept the gesture; she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him back while her hand toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Once the kiss ended, Gil buried his face in her neck and kissed and nibbled on her flesh. He travelled down her body, kissing as he descended.
"Gil," she whispered, "what are you doing?"
He chuckled. "If you can't figure that out, my dear, you're not as astute as I thought you are," he replied.
Catherine groaned when he nipped at the inside of her thigh, before rubbing his beard against the tender skin there. She whined quietly and whispered his name a few times.
"Why are you still---"
"I want to," he replied, cutting her off. "Are you opposed to me continuing?"
"N-no," she murmured, "but you already... got off, so I'm kind of..." as she trailed off, she made a quiet noise.
Gil peeked up at her in the dark room. "Doesn't bother me," he said honestly. "Does it bother you?"
"No," she answered. "I just thought it would bother you."
"Well it doesn't," he assured her.
"Okay," she whispered.
Gil smiled and kissed her hip before moving his mouth downwards. He pulled her outer lips back with the fingers of one hand and gently lowered his lips to her bundle of nerves, drawing it slightly into his mouth. Catherine gasped sharply and he felt her body tense; he gently flicked his tongue over that swollen bit of flesh and savoured her reaction, her body's tension and her voice's quiet whine.
As he continued to torment her that way, he slid one finger and then two fingers inside of her; his thumb reached down and pressed against her other opening, without pushing its way inside of her. With every second stroke of his tongue, his fingers made one stroke through her core and his thumb gently teased her.
Catherine cursed under her breath. Gil would have smiled if his mouth wasn't already occupied.
After moving his hand away from the apex of her thighs, he wiped it on the sheet, towards the edge of the mattress, and then he cupped both of her thighs in his hands as he adjusted his elbows' positions on the mattress and then his body's position. Once he was settled, he placed his mouth against her slick skin and gently pushed his tongue inside her opening. He couldn't penetrate her deeply with his tongue, so he made up for that by circling his tongue against her; Catherine seemed to enjoy it because he heard her whimper and felt her squirm against him.
He found the whole experience intriguing. He catalogued every action and every reaction, filing the information away for the future. He enjoyed testing Catherine, seeing what would arouse her further; even the taste of his semen combined with the taste of her own fluids added to the experience. Everything he did pulled him away from the death and darkness at work, towards something filled with more light; using his mind to understand something more innocent than murder lightened the load on his heart and he felt more at ease than he had at the beginning of the night.
Gil started to test himself---and Catherine---after a while. He tried new techniques with his tongue, seeing what worked and what didn't. He wiggled, flexed, extended, curled, and pressed his tongue against and into her core; after a few minutes, he thought of something new to try.
"What are you doing?" she breathed, panting heavily.
He laughed softly and lifted his head. "Never you mind."
"No, seriously," she insisted, reaching down and nudging his shoulder.
Gil opened his mouth, extended his tongue and demonstrated his technique by rolling his tongue into a tube. Catherine laughed softly and dropped her head back onto her pillows. He lowered his tongue back to the swollen nub he had been tormenting and placed his rolled tongue over it. Once he surrounded the nerves, he pushed in and pulled back, teasing her.
That technique seemed to do the trick. Catherine came apart at the seams as he used his rolled tongue against her; when her orgasm hit, she yelped once and then her whole body shuddered.
"Oh... man," she whispered, as Gil kissed his way up her body, "Gil, that was... wow, baby."
"Yeah?"
"How'd you figure out how to do that?" she asked as he pulled the comforter over their bodies.
He shrugged. "Dunno... just... experimented," he replied quietly, reaching up with his hand and brushing her hair off of her damp face. "It was good?"
"Gil... honey, I don't think you understand," she purred. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently. "Thank you," she murmured.
"Thank you," he whispered before hugging her close to his body. After kissing her shoulder, he added, "I don't know what I'd do without you."
She squeezed her arms around him once, briefly accentuating their embrace. "You'd fall apart," she whispered. "Which is why I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank goodness," he breathed. He smiled into her hair and then whispered, "So, you're not leaving me for Lady Heather?"
Catherine laughed softly and looked up at him. "What are you talking... oh. Was I talking in my sleep?"
"Were you ever," he murmured teasingly. She laughed and kissed his chest; he threaded his fingers through her hair and gently caressed the back of her neck. "I can't lie... the idea wasn't exactly a turn off," he admitted.
She laughed again. "In my defense, it was a dream," she whispered. "And when I'm awake... I'm with you."
"Well, when I'm awake, I'm with you, too," he whispered in reply.
Catherine lifted her head and looked at him for a moment. He wasn't sure what he had said to deserve such a serious expression on her face, but then it melted into a dazzling smile; even in the darkness, he could see how bright her smile was. She leaned down and kissed him and then she hugged him tightly, letting her legs tangle with his.
A perfect ending to a far from perfect night, he thought as he tucked his face in her hair and inhaled deeply.