Platypus 68: Formalities, Complexities, and a Dare

"This is insane," Catherine breathed as Gil pushed her against the closed and locked door of his office, before planting a sound kiss on her lips.

Gil used his tongue and teeth to urge the strawberry blonde to open her mouth to his; the kiss deepened until they both needed to breathe. When he pulled back, his breath was hot against her face. "I know," he agreed, his voice hoarse and low.

"We have to finish the case... so we can change, and---"

She stopped talking when the temptation of Gil's lips was too much. She pushed hers against his and initiated another delicious kiss.

"Can't keep my hands off of you," he whispered, against her mouth, as his hands traveled under her shirt.

"Mmm... I know... me, too," she purred, letting her head fall back when he caressed her breasts through her bra. "God... feels so good," she breathed. "Don't stop..."

"We're like horny teenagers," he commented before kissing her neck and jawline.

Catherine would have agreed with him, but she was trying hard not to make too much noise. The building was filled with people who were finishing their work so they could go to Robert Covallo's retirement and Conrad Ecklie's installation dinner; Catherine and Gil had been working a case together before their shift started, so they, too, could take off in time to prepare for the event.

Over the past few weeks, though, interacting with Gil had become dangerous for Catherine, for both of them. Even a simple glance shared between them generated enough sparks to seriously convince them to find the nearest available room. Catherine was surprised at her wanton behavior; normally, she was able to at least get through the shift without the need to jump Gil overtaking her. Over the past few weeks, though, she could barely get through the next few minutes without wanting to feel his body against hers.

She couldn't explain her behavior---nor could she explain Gil's behavior.

Gil seemed to be just as eager as she was to lock themselves away someplace private. He instigated plenty of their office hookups and he often woke her up in the middle of their post-work sleep with wandering hands. Any time she tried to ask him about his actions, they ended up pushing each other's buttons enough to start another 'small fire.'

"This should be wrong," Catherine whispered as she lifted one of her legs up and hooked it over Gil's hip as he pushed her skirt up.

He chuckled quietly. "But, it doesn't feel very wrong," he whispered back, lifting the rest of her skirt up so he could tug on her underwear and give his hand something to touch and tease. "The skirt today was an incredibly good idea."

"I never wear skirts to work," she breathed, before biting back a whimper when Gil's fingers slid inside of her core. "And I'm beginning to realise why it's not a good idea---"

"Bite your tongue," he scolded, before giving her a dark look and a half-smile.

She laughed quietly and gently shoved her hands into his chest. "We can't do this here," she insisted. "We're supposed to be---"

"Waiting for Hodges to finish his assessment of the trace evidence so we can write our report," he interjected quietly. "Kiss me," he whispered.

Instead of protesting further, Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his for another kiss. Gil slid his arms behind her back and hugged her to his body before stepping away from the door and heading to his desk. Catherine moaned her approval into another kiss and then she slid her arms down so her hands could unfasten his belt and open his pants.

"Hard and fast," Catherine breathed, as she took his growing erection in her hand and stroked it slowly. "Okay?"

"What's the rush?"

"Hodges likes to come looking for you... and..." Catherine trailed off and pressed her lips to Gil's neck, under his beard. "...and while I don't think he's had sex in a while, I'm sure he remembers what it smells like."

"God, I love how you smell," he breathed in reply.

Catherine groaned and chuckled before tossing her hair back and pulling his face back down to hers for another mouth-to-mouth kiss.

"Focus," she whispered, scolding him a little.

Gil smirked and slid his hands along her inner thighs, teasing her soft skin before he slid his fingers further and tested to see if she was ready for more---even though he would know she was by looking into her eyes.

"Believe me... I am very focused on the task at hand," he whispered as he moved his hand and her underwear to one side.

"We're not usually like this," Catherine said, whimpering quietly at the end of her words, before she scooted towards the edge of the desk and opened her legs wider for Gil. "I don't wear skirts and you don't spend time undressing me with your eyes at the scene! What's gotten into us?" she hissed.

"Maybe it's just that time of the year," he suggested, shrugging. He lifted one of his hands and cupped her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her. "Ready?"

"Very," she whispered in reply.

"Good, because we really have to hurry," he pointed out.

Catherine laughed---until he slowly started pushing their bodies together. The happy sound was lost to an aroused sound; her eyes closed and her forehead fell to his shoulder.

"Told you that already," she whispered as she got used to feeling Gil inside of her body.

"Sorry... all that blood rushing south---"

Catherine giggled and pressed her mouth to his.

When they got down to business, it was a frantic race to the finish line---all scratches to hidden places, kisses to lips, and thrusts of hips. Catherine held on to Gil tightly with her legs while she used her arms to support her as she leaned back. Gil followed her and kissed her neck; when her hair got in the way he tangled one of his hands in her coppery tresses as he pushed the tendrils back to grant him the access he desired.

She said a silent prayer that Gil's teeth wouldn't leave visible marks on her skin.

The announcement of her climax came in a squeaky cry and a relaxation of her body, while Gil's came in a groan. They clung to each other as their systems leveled off. Catherine tucked her face into Gil's neck and she felt Gil rest his head upon her shoulder.

"We can't keep meeting like this," she whispered, panting a little.


She laughed softly and slowly lifted her hand to rub the back of Gil's head. "Poor baby..." she murmured. "All sexed out."


"Oh good grief," Catherine groaned. "Are you on drugs?" she asked quietly. "Because, man, you've been insatiable lately."

"Maybe you're on the same thing I'm on," he suggested. "You've been just as insatiable as me."

Catherine blushed when he lifted his head and forced her to look at him. "I... I really can't explain it."

"Me, neither," he said, shrugging before he stepped back a bit and started putting himself back together.

Once they were both cleaned up a bit and fully dressed, feeling a bit more composed, Catherine turned to look at Gil as she walked towards the door. "How about we try something?"

"Abstaining?" he asked. When Catherine opened her mouth, Gil quickly cut her off. "Catherine, my dear, we can't go a couple of hours before---"

"I dare you," she murmured, walking towards him.

He blinked. "You what?"

"I dare you," she repeated. Her lips curved into a slow, sweet smile. "I dare you to abstain for two days. I will, too. We'll go two days and see where we stand."

"Two days?"

"Okay. One day," she said, caving into Gil's unspoken demand. "No sex until tomorrow night."

He sighed, misery etched into his features. "But the dinner's tonight and you're going to be wearing that dress you bought last week and---"

"If you ask nicely, I'll put it on again tomorrow night," she suggested. She arched an eyebrow. "What? Afraid you can't go twenty-four hours?"

Gil smirked. "If I were you, I'd be afraid of that," he said as he walked across the room, towards her. "What happens if we can't control our baser impulses?"

"Then, the weaker one has to do what the winner wants," she said. "So, if I win and I want an hour long massage, you'd have to warm those hands up."

"But... if I win, and want you to... clean my townhouse wearing a french maid's uniform and stiletto heels, then---"

"Then, I'd have to do it," Catherine interrupted. "Do we have a deal?"

Gil extended his hand for shaking. "You bet."

After they shook hands, Gil smirked. "You better go home and get changed," he advised. "I don't want you to lose on our way back from Hodges' lab."

Catherine laughed and nudged him before she turned and walked---with a much more exaggerated sway to her hips, for Gil's benefit---out of his office and towards the locker room. She figured she could use the extra time to get ready, anyway.


"Whenever I meet someone new," Sofia Curtis explained, "I always say their name out loud a few times. Keeps a picture in my head."

Gil wasn't sure if he saw the logic behind her actions. "Hm... I thought that's why we had cameras."

Sofia smiled and shook her head slightly before she returned to processing the scene. Gil returned to his work, as well, but was interrupted by his cellular phone ringing. He sighed, knowing exactly who it was, and slowly pulled the device out of his jacket pocket.

"Grissom," he said into the phone.

"You addleminded, underhanded---"

Gil moved the phone away from his ear and waited for Catherine's rant to finish. When there was a lull in her yelling, he put the phone against his ear again and said, "I apologise."

"Oh, you're going to have to do more than that," she growled. "If you think I'm ever sleeping with you again, you've got another thought coming, mister. You left me with a napkin! A napkin! And no speech! You---"

Hearing that she was getting wound up again, he removed the phone. Sofia, who had been watching him with an amused expression on her face, arched an eyebrow in question. Gil smiled and rolled his eyes slightly. "Someone who was disappointed that I had to leave the dinner early."

"Someone who gave your speech for you?"

He smiled and shrugged. Sofia chuckled and shook her head.

"Catherine," Gil said once he put the phone to his ear again. "Catherine, stop yelling at me, please. I know you're mad at me."

"If mad is a euphemism for 'out of my mind I'm so pissed off,' then, yeah, I am," she replied.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Oh... not right now, no," she told him. "If I even see you in the next hour, I might lose it."

"So it will be easy to hold up your end of the dare, then," he pointed out.

Catherine growled loudly in his ear and ended the call. Gil smiled a little bit---since an angry Catherine was a very attractive Catherine, although only from afar---and then he pocketed his phone.

"What's going on between you two?" Sofia asked.

"What? N-nothing," Gil said, too quickly, "why?"

She motioned towards the phone tucked in his jacket pocket. "You seem at ease with each other... moreso than Ecklie and I are. And the dare---"

"Catherine and I have known each other for... for way too long," he admitted. "I was a rookie when I met her."

"Are you the one who convinced her to study forensics?"

Gil shrugged. Their history was complicated. He met her on his own, away from departmental cover while she was away from her lack of cover, so to speak. He hadn't known she was a stripper until Jimmy formally introduced them on a homicide case that had evidence that pointed them towards the strip club. She had been embarrassed, but for the first time, Gil had met someone who didn't make him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. She accepted him, so he accepted her. When she decided to go back to school, he had supported her wholly; but as far as he knew, he hadn't been the one to point her in that educational direction.

"It's hard to say exactly what inspired Catherine to change careers," Gil said tactfully.


Gil sighed. He wondered what Sofia had heard about Catherine, what Ecklie told her about Catherine.

"Anyway," he said quietly, "we've known each other for a long time and she's probably the only person I'm fully at ease with. How long have you and Ecklie known each other?"

"Not that long," Sofia conceded.


Catherine looked up from her notes when Gil stepped into the break room. He smiled a bit and made his way towards the table. She moved the chair towards her, for him to take, and set her pen down on top of the papers in front of her.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I might forgive you," she admitted, smiling at him.

He chuckled and sat down in the proffered chair. "Well... I did tell Ecklie to give special attention to your application for the day shift supervisor position," he said quietly, reaching under the table to touch her thigh.

"Are you admitting defeat?" she asked after she glanced down at his hand.

Gil smiled. "Not just yet, my dear," he told her. "Perhaps I'm trying to rattle you like you rattled me at the hotel."

"Mmm... some of my finest work," she murmured.

"I don't know about that," he disagreed, as he took his glasses off and cleaned them on a tissue from his pocket. When he put his glasses back on his face, he turned and looked at her. "You've done more damage in other ways."


"See, I knew what you were doing when you tied my tie," he explained, "so I was prepared. I could steel myself against my desires. Normally, I lose control when you're doing something you're not aware of doing. And then, you look at me, and..."

"And that's it," she finished for him.

He nodded. "Exactly."

"So... if I was to put my hand on your leg right now," she whispered, slipping her hand under the table and settling it on Gil's thigh, mirroring the way in which he had touched her earlier, "you wouldn't feel any sort of impulse to lean in and kiss me?"

Gil swallowed hard. "No..."

"And if I licked my lips?"

He swallowed again as she slipped her tongue out of her mouth and brushed its tip over her lower lip. "I'm... I'm stronger than that," he managed.

Catherine grinned---even though her attempt to tempt him had increased her own body temperature. "Are you?"

"I am," he said quietly, before he adjusted his position in his chair.

She laughed softly. "Okay..." she murmured. "Have you given any thought to how we'll celebrate our success?"

"My townhouse, after shift," he told her, as he saw Sofia walking down the hall, towards the room they were in.

Catherine turned and looked at him. "What are you planning?"

Gil opened his mouth to answer her question, but he was interrupted.

"Hey, guys," Sofia said as she stepped into the room. She smiled. "Have you guys made up or should I don some sort of protective armour?"

Gil smiled at the tall blonde, while the strawberry blonde glared at him. "I believe it's safe for you to be in here," he told her. "Catherine stopped yelling at me."

Sofia flashed them a quick grin and then she took a chair across from them. "So, what have we got, Grissom?"


"I took Lindsey to school," Gil said into Catherine's ear.

Catherine blinked. "You what?"

"Well, when you called me on your way back from the airport," Gil explained, "I knew our celebration would have to wait. So, when I left work this morning, I stopped by your house and gave your mother the morning off. I told her you were tied up on a case... but I wanted to hang out with Lindsey. So, I made breakfast for Lindsey and then took her to school."

"Where are you now?" she asked as she walked down the hall of the forensics lab.

"I'm back at my house now," he told her. "Your mother will pick Lindsey up at three and take her to dancing. And when you're finished there... I hope you'll come here to join me."

"We survived a whole case without groping each other in a broom closet," she said quietly. "I think we deserve a reward."

She could hear the grin in Gil's voice. "So do I, my dear."

"Thank you for taking Lindsey to school," Catherine said after a moment's pause. She wasn't sure if she was happy with him reasserting himself as a fixture in her daughter's life, but she did appreciate the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. "I... I'm just going to be here for another hour or so, before I go to PD and bring Brass up to speed."

"Okay," he replied. "See you soon, then."

"You bet," she agreed, before ending the call and clipping her cell phone to her waist.

She worked for roughly forty-five minutes, finalising her report on the evidence, and then she packed everything and put the boxes away, before going to her locker and getting her purse.

When she arrived at the police department, Jim Brass was nursing a drink in a glass tumbler while he read some papers. She knocked on the door frame before stepping inside the room. He looked up and smiled a bit, before silently offering her the seat in front of his desk.

"Off the clock?" she asked teasingly.

"Care to join me?"

Catherine smiled. "Sure. What's our poison?"

"Single malt scotch," he told her as he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and produced the bottle and another glass. She smiled and nodded, so he poured a few fingers of the amber liquid into the glass and then offered it to her.

"Thanks," she murmured as her fingers curled around the glass. She closed her eyes and sniffed it when she brought it to her face. Slowly, she sipped the scotch and moaned appreciatively after swallowing.

"You make that look good," he commented. "Better than I make it look."

Catherine chuckled. "Thanks... I think," she replied.

He smiled and set his glass down. "So... what happened?" he asked, once the happy expression had faded from her face.

"She did it to herself," Catherine said after another sip of her drink.

He blinked and then leaned forward to ask, "How'd you figure it out?"

"The position of the knot was the key," Catherine explained, "between her wrists and her back. The only way that it could've ended up in that position was if she had tied it herself. And her saliva on the ends of the scarf confirmed it."

Brass blinked again. "You saying she committed suicide?" he asked, before taking a sip of his drink.

Catherine nursed her drink as she replied. "I guess I am. Although," she added, "I don't think that was her intention. I think that she was... hoping that her father would save her in time."

Jim sighed. "Fathers and daughters," he mused quietly, looking at a picture of his daughter on his desk---from happier days.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said in a similarly quiet voice as she thought about her own father.

"Did you wish... you knew your father when you were growing up?" he asked, surprising her.

After swallowing a bit more of the scotch, she shrugged. "I knew him," she admitted. "He dated my mother on and off for years... but he wasn't really an influence on my life. No one was... I mean... the mistakes I made... wow," she said, smiling a bit. "But... he wasn't a father-figure in my life. I didn't want his approval or love."

"And now?"

Catherine snorted. "And now, I know too much," she said, smiling wryly.


When Catherine kissed Gil's chest, he smiled and sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. "Sleep well?" he asked quietly while his fingers combed through her hair.

"Yes," she murmured, sliding her leg over his. "Thank you... the bath, breakfast... sleep... this was really, really nice."

He kissed the top of her head and then let his hand slide down over her back. When she had gone to his townhouse, after meeting with Brass, they had started out hot and heavy against the front door---until Catherine stifled a yawn, which stirred a yawn in Gil. Two minutes later, they were taking care of their more pressing needs---cleaning, eating, and sleeping---instead of their baser urges. It hadn't been what Gil had originally planned for their celebration, but when he woke up, he had to admit that he felt better than he had in a long time.

"It was," he agreed.

"You slept well?" she asked, turning her head and body so she could peek up at him through her long bangs.

"I did," he said quietly.

She smiled and kissed the underside of his bearded chin. "Good," she murmured. "So... how about I go make us a sandwich?"

"You want help?"

"Nah... I'll bring the food in here. Keep the bed warm, okay?"

He nodded and watched her climb out of bed and slip on the green shirt he had been wearing earlier, over her camisole and panties. After watching that scene, he decided that he would have to follow her.

She didn't know he was in the doorway until she turned around, a plate of food and two glasses of juice on the tray she was holding. Her eyes widened and she set the tray down on the counter before setting her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked.

He smirked and leaned against the door frame. "Catherine, you're wearing my shirt. And you're barefoot in my kitchen."


"Did you really think I'd just stay in bed and wait for you to come back with food?" he inquired, one eyebrow quirked up. "You're wearing my shirt."

"You said that already," she pointed out. She smiled. "Having problems with the blood leaving your brain?"

"Yes," he said, without excuses.

Catherine shifted her weight. Gil felt his abdomen warm and tighten as he watched the green fabric of his shirt brush over her upper thighs. He shifted his weight, too, and looked up at her face as his cheeks flushed.

"Bedroom?" Catherine asked quietly.

Gil shook his head slowly and then took one step towards her. He took pleasure in the way the blush traveled up Catherine's neck before it settled in her cheeks. He swallowed hard and licked one of the corners of his mouth and then he closed the gap between them; he put his hands on her hips and drew her up against his body.

"No bedroom?" she whispered.

Gil shook his head again and then backed Catherine up against the counter. She hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, as he caught her chin in one of his hands and leaned in to kiss her.

She purred softly against his mouth until the kiss ended, almost as if she were feline. Gil moved his lips from hers, and burned a trail down her neck. When he reached a sensitive place that he loved exploiting, he decided to blow a raspberry against her skin instead of laving it with his tongue.

Catherine squealed loudly and threw her head back as laughter overtook her. Gil smiled and kissed his way back to her lips.

The End!
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