Platypus 73: Commitments

Gil looked up from his work and smiled as Catherine walked into his office. "You're here late," she commented, motioning towards the clock on the wall.

"You're here early," he replied with a similar gesture.

She shrugged. "Wanted to see you," she explained.

He smiled more. Lately, he had noticed that their relationship was evolving yet again. It wasn't as inconsistent as they had agreed to make it, when Gil hadn't been sure of what his heart wanted, when Catherine was trying to give him the space he needed; instead, it seemed as if they had moved back to some sort of committed relationship. Catherine wasn't seeing anyone else and neither was he; they spent their days off together; he spent the night at her place even when she was out late working on case; he, Catherine, and Lindsey spent time together, again, as if they were a family. He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the new evolution. It felt more normal. It felt like what he wanted with her. There were times when he wasn't completely sure his heart was in the right place but he knew he wanted commitment, and the arrangement they had decided upon seemed so bizarre to him that he wasn't really comfortable with its stipulations.

"Well, here I am," he told her, smiling again.

"Brass is back," she said quietly. "Saw him with someone on the day shift."

"I should stop by and say hello on my way out," he said. "Warrick wouldn't tell me how L.A. was."

"I think it was hard on him," she murmured as she sat down in front of his desk. She motioned towards the files in front of him. "What are you working on?"

"Paper work," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Catherine laughed softly. "You know the trick to getting paperwork done?" she asked.

"Having a sexy, smart second in command to help me with it?"

She laughed again. "No... getting it started when it lands on your desk."

"I'm usually busy when---"

"You're testing blood patterns on floor surfaces or feeding your bugs or conducting some other experiment," she interrupted, smiling at him. "Those things can wait. The job can't."

"It is my job!"

She shook her head, blonde hair brushing over her shoulders with the movement. "No, your job is to supervise your team... to manage your team."

He scowled. "Did you come in here just to tell me I don't have time for scientific inquiry any more?"

"No, I came in here because I wanted to see you," she replied.

"Well, you've seen me."

She smirked. "Not all of you."

"You came---" he had been nearly shouting, but he dropped his voice to a quiet hiss "---in early for a booty call?"

Catherine laughed, bowing her head forward as she brought her hand up to almost cover her mouth. "No... I was... I was just making an observation," she murmured quietly, "for the sake of scientific inquiry."

Gil rolled his eyes. "You're a riot, my dear," he commented wryly.

"I know," she replied, before grinning.

"Don't you have some work to do?"

"My paperwork's all done," she purred as she rose out of her chair, giving Gil a leisurely look at her neck and chest.

"You came in here to rouse me," he accused as she walked away, her hips swaying.

Catherine turned her head and peeked at him from over her shoulder. "Is that what you think?"

He took the opportunity her body position gave him and ran his gaze over her body. He followed the lines of her legs until her ankles where he saw the shoes she liked to wear when she wanted to tease him a little. The ankle straps and stiletto heels always did something to his blood pressure; recently, they had found out that particular pair of shoes was the the most effective at stirring his passions, on a dinner and dancing date.

"Yes," he said quietly, "that is exactly what I think."

"Interesting theory, Dr. Grissom," she murmured.

He snorted and was about to open his mouth but someone came in from Ecklie's office with three more envelopes and two more file folders for Gil to complete and sign. Catherine laughed after the office aide came in---until Gil glared at her over his glasses.

"Unless you want to help me---"

Catherine smirked and closed his office door and then the blinds. She walked towards him after he stopped talking, mid-sentence, and she sat down in the chair she had previously vacated.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Every time you finish a form," she murmured, "I'll take something off."

Gil swallowed hard and looked at the clock. "You only have... a few hours before your shift starts."

"A few hours is more than enough time for you to finish that pile in front of you," she said quietly, arching one of her eyebrows a little higher than usual. "And, I'll leave the shoes on as long as possible."

He swallowed again and looked at the papers in front of him. "You're killing me," he complained, not caring if it sounded like he was whining.

Catherine chuckled and tilted her head. "Your call, Dr. Grissom."

"Okay... okay. Start the clock," he told her as he picked up his pen.


Gil watched Catherine stand up and slide out of her red thong. He shifted his weight in his chair and groaned quietly as his erection pressed against the fly of his pants.


She grinned and sat back down in the chair. "You still have one form left," she pointed out as she crossed her legs.

"Do I have to finish it?"

She nodded and brushed her hair back, off of her face and shoulders. "You really do," she murmured. "You won't get your prize unless you finish your paperwork."

Gil groaned again. "Catherine..."

"Every time you whine or procrastinate," she told him, "I'm going to put a piece of my clothing back on."

He sighed loudly and returned to the work in front of him. Catherine chuckled quietly and he saw her uncross her legs out of the corner of his eye; he wanted to watch her, but he also knew that if she had been serious about undressing every time he finished some of his work, she was equally serious about putting her clothes back on if he didn't finish his work.

She was devious. He wasn't sure how he felt about her power over him.

When he set the last file aside, she grinned and parted her legs. Gil took his glasses off as he watched her spread herself out of him, as she slid her fingers over her thighs, towards her core; her fingers moved over her slick folds of skin and pulled them apart.

He swallowed hard and shifted in his chair. Catherine tilted her head, her long bangs brushing over her forehead as her long, wavy mane skimmed over her shoulder; she rubbed her fingers over her sex and watched him watch her.

"Is this my reward?" he asked in a thick voice.

"This is the pre-show," she murmured.

"How much time do you have before your shift starts?" he asked, unable to tear his eyes off of her body.

"Enough time," she murmured. She moved her fingers away from her skin; she winked at him and then brought her fingers up to her lips. Gil heard himself growling under his breath as he watched her lick her digits clean. "You're looking a little flushed," she commented quietly.

"Come over here," he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded and pushed herself up out of the chair, rolling her hips slightly. Gil pushed his chair back a bit more and started taking his clothes off.

"Awfully presumptuous, don't you think?"

"Not in the least," he told her as he undressed.

Catherine grinned at him. A few minutes later, she was slowly sinking down into his lap, taking him deep inside of her body. He had his hands on her hips, guiding her downwards, and as he looked up into her eyes, he wondered if he would ever find another person who could make him feel so incredible. Even during a moment so illicit as a fast and dirty escapade in his office after his shift, he felt like she was his perfect match. He could never find a more articulate way to explain how he felt when he was with her; his heart raced and was at peace at the same time, and his mind was quiet and boggled at the same time, too.

As her lips lowered down onto his, he sighed happily and slid his hands over her back until they covered her shoulder blades. Catherine shimmied slightly and slid her hands over his chest. She scratched him with her nails and moaned when he thrust his hips up into hers.

"We have to stop doing this in your office," she whispered, laughing softly.

"Yeah, you first," he replied as he slowly moved his hands back down her back.

She laughed and continued riding his lap.

"Besides," he added, "you started it."

Catherine tipped her head back, her hair brushing over her shoulders, and she laughed again. Gil leaned forward and pressed his lips to her collarbone, before trailing them down towards her breasts.

When the phone rang, they both groaned. Gil told her to ignore it, but she reached back and snatched the receiver off of his desk.

"Willows," she said into the phone. Catherine smiled as she listened. "Nah... I'm helping Gil get his paperwork done."

"Yeah, but he made me an offer I couldn't refuse," she told him as she squeezed her hidden muscles around his erection. Gil shot her a dirty look as he stifled a groan. "He's right here, Jim, hang on."

Gil's eyes widened and he shook his head. Catherine glared back and handed him the phone.

"I will get you back," he hissed.

She smiled a sweet smile and sat back a bit, while he took the phone and put it to his ear.


"Hey, Gil," the man said cheerfully into the phone. "Any chance you're going into PD on your way out of there?"

"I could be," he told his friend. "I'm just wr---" he stopped short as Catherine wriggled against him and sucked in a sharp breath "---wrapping up some paperwork."

"Okay, I'm going out to ask a person of interest a few questions, but I'll be back in a couple of hours," Brass said. "Would you mind stopping by? I have something I'd like to run by you."

"N-no problem," Gil said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice as Catherine rose and fell against his lap. "See you then, then."

Catherine snatched the phone out of his hand and put it back in its cradle and then put her hands on his shoulders. "I've got to start my shift soon," she whispered before kissing him.

"Then stop teasing me," he whispered back as he returned his hands to her hips and guided her through the paces.


Gil knocked on the glass of Jim's open door, a few hours later. He knew he no longer had any time to go home, shower, and sleep before his next shift, but he knew his friendship with the other man was more important and he also knew he could freshen up at the lab and have some of Greg's coffee in order to feel more human.

"Hey, Gil."

He smiled at his friend. "What's up?"

"Just closed another case..." Jim said as he motioned to the work on his desk. "You'd think we would have figured out a way to get rid of paperwork," he said, "but if it's not printed on paper then it's sorted in a computer."

Gil smiled, shrugged, and walked inside the office. "That's the nature of the government," he reminded Jim. "How was Los Angeles?"

Jim groaned and leaned back in his chair. Gil said down in front of the desk and put his hands, folded, in his lap. "Wasn't the family vacation I had expected."

"How's Ellie?"

"She's... she's..." Jim trailed off and sighed. He shook his head. He stood up and started to pace around the office a little as he told his story of the past few days away from Las Vegas. Gil let him pace. He listened to every word and didn't speak, because he sensed Jim had to get a few things off of his chest.

When he was finished, he was standing behind his desk again.

"I... I know how my daughter Ellie lives. I know the company she keeps," he said, "and I know what she does to get by. And," he paused to shake his head, "anyway, I mean... I'm... I'm... a couple of nights ago I'm in L.A. and sitting in my car on Hollywood Boulevard watching her work a corner and my eyes are playing tricks on me because I don't see what she's doing. I see what she was." Jim paused and frowned. Gil wondered if this was Catherine's worst nightmare for Lindsey; his heart ached a little bit for his friend. "I see a little six year old girl with a ponytail, playing with crayons, singing a little tune to herself. It's... I don't know... all I want to do is save her.

"But, the thing is... you know, if something happened to me, I don't think Ellie would, uh, care," Jim finished and picked up a few papers off of his desk. He handed them to Gil. "So, I'm asking you to do my this favour. There's no one I trust more with my life, or my death, than you."

Gil's eyes widened and he looked up at his friend. "Jim... this is a big responsibility..." he trailed off and reached to his pocket for a pen. "I'm honoured. Where do I sign?"

Jim looked relieved. Gil smiled a bit and prayed he would never have to make a decision pertaining to Jim's life or death.


Catherine waited until she was sure Lindsey and Lily were sound asleep, and then she padded down the carpeted hall to her bedroom. She went into her closet and found the box of clothes she never wore; after removing the clothes from inside, she grabbed the papers and photographs she had been hanging onto, only to stuff them into an envelope which went into her purse.

She put the clothes back in the box and the box back into the closet. She grabbed her coat and once she was in the foyer, she grabbed her car keys.

A minute later, she was slowly backing out of her driveway.

Traffic wasn't too bad. She arrived at the Rampart Casino and went inside to look for Sam.

She didn't know why she was giving him the evidence she had stolen. She knew she didn't want to hang onto the hard copies and she knew that Sam had better security with which one could guard such valuables. She had been dying to tell someone what she had done and she knew his moral compass wouldn't steer against her. He would understand; she wanted him to understand. She needed someone to understand because she had no one else to turn to.


She looked at the man standing in front of her. She thought she recognised him as one of Sam's higher ups, but she couldn't be sure. She flashed him her identification badge and said, "Catherine Willows, from the Crime Lab, to see Sam Braun."

"I'll call and see if he's free," the man said in a rather snooty tone. She crossed her arms and waited for him to pick up his cellular phone and place the call; he spoke in muted tones, his head turned away from Catherine as he called up to Sam's office. When he was finished, he didn't tell Catherine if she could continue to Sam's office or if she should get the hell out of dodge.

She had opened her mouth to say something to him, when Sam appeared behind him.

"Mugs," he said in his usual gruff and affectionate tone.

"Hey, Sam," she said quietly, smiling a bit.

"Jackson," Sam said to the man who had delayed Catherine, "this is my daughter, Catherine. When she comes in, just tell her where I am, okay?"

"Yes, sir," he said, nodding as Sam put his arm on Catherine's elbow and guided her away.

"You don't need your credentials to see me, Mugs," he told her quietly as they walked to the bay of elevators. Catherine didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. "How's your mother?"

"Fine," Catherine replied.

"Is she with Lindsey tonight?"

She nodded. "I... I left them at home. They're both asleep... I..." she trailed off and shook her head as she chuckled quietly to herself.

"Are they really okay?" he asked, looking at her with softer eyes than he usually did. Catherine opened her mouth but she couldn't start telling him the story of why she was there. "Come have a drink with me," he suggested, pushing a button on the executive elevator.

A few minutes later, they were in his luxurious office. Catherine shivered as she remembered the last time she was in that room, when she had Sam arrested; she frowned until he brought a glass of scotch over to her.

"Here," he said, "have that. We'll sit... and you'll tell me what's brought you to my door."

"You and Bruce Eiger... did you have much of a history?" she asked.

Sam's jaw tightened after he sat down. "You accusing me of murder again, Mugs?" he asked as she sat down next to him.

Catherine swallowed hard and shook her head. "N-no," she murmured, "I just... we found..." she stopped talking and shook her head. Sam put his hand on her shoulder; she looked up at him and bit her lower lip. After a minute, she sucked in a sharp breath and resumed speaking. "He blackmailed a lot of people, apparently. I didn't know how far his arms reached, but when we were investigating... we found his collection of... memorabilia, I guess you could call it."

"He had a file on me, I know," Sam said.

She nodded. "Well... a lot of it was about your sons. Their early days... and some stuff about your affairs with powerful and not so powerful people."

"I know that."

"I didn't know what I was doing," she said, rambling a little as she set the tumbler of scotch down on a coaster on the low table by her chair, "I just... I saw the pictures of my family and me and I took them. I didn't tell anyone and... and I don't have anywhere safe to keep them---"

Sam started to chuckle. The sound chilled Catherine to the bone. She paled as she watched him smirk.

"I'll take them off your hands," he assured her. He sipped his drink and then tilted his head as he looked at her. "Did the world stop turning, Mugs? Did the sky fall down?"

"No... n-no."

"You feel guilty?"

"I was protecting my family," she said, defending her actions. "I thought you'd understand---"

"I do, Mugs," he interrupted, "and I'm just enjoying this moment. You're more like me than you think, you know."

She shivered. "I am?"

"Protecting your carefully constructed empire," he said, leaning in a bit. He smirked and then advised: "Don't feel guilty about doing what's necessary."

"I broke the law," she whispered.

"Well, I won't turn you in," he told her with an easy smile. "Where are the papers and pictures?"

She reached into her purse and pulled the envelope out. Sam took it from her and got up. He walked over to a painting on his wall and moved it to reveal a safe. Catherine realised he was trusting her with the location of the vault; she didn't know if she should feel proud of or comforted at that, but she did smile a little. She was relieved that he understood her actions and that he was going to keep their secrets.

"He showed me some of them," Sam told her. "You should be careful what sort of positions you get yourself into, Mugs."

She blushed. "I... I thought I was careful."

"This is Vegas," he responded as he returned to his chair. "You can't be too careful in this town."

Catherine looked at the painting for a moment. Then, she picked up her drink and sipped from the tumbler.

"Thank you," she murmured. "For... for taking them."

"I'll keep them safe," he promised.

She nodded. "I thought you would," she said, smiling a little bit.

"We're family," he reminded her. "Family sticks together, Mugs. No shame or blame in that."


After her meeting with Sam, Catherine left his office and went to the lobby floor of the casino. She planned on leaving the building, getting in her car, and driving home; however, she passed by the lounge and saw someone she knew.

"Lady Heather?" Catherine asked as she approached the table where the brunette was sitting.

Heather smiled at the strawberry blonde. "Catherine... how lovely to see you," she said. Catherine noticed how her smile didn't reach her eyes, but she didn't push the issue. "Are you here alone, too?"

"I had some business to take care of," she replied. "I... don't you work nights?"

"Even I need a break from the dominion every once and a while," Heather told her. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," she murmured. Catherine took the empty seat at the small table and put her purse down at her feet. "How are you doing?" she asked.

"I've been better," the other woman admitted. She sighed and brushed her long bangs out of her eyes. "My daughter and I had a fight," she said, "and it did not go well."

Catherine sympathised with Heather. She knew that when she had a disagreement with Lindsey, she felt its aftereffects for days; there was nothing worse than not seeing eye to eye with her daughter and she imagined it was a similar situation for Heather.

"You'll find a way to work things out," Catherine said in a confident, warm tone. "You two have a solid relationship," she pointed out, "and she knows that. She's just... testing her wings and trying to be her own person."

Heather nodded and brought her glass of red wine to her lips. After a small sip, she opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by a waitress coming over to the table with a decanter, a bottle of red wine, and two glasses.

"Ms. Willows," the redhead said, "Mr. Braun asked me to bring this over with his compliments."

"Oh... I... thank you," Catherine managed to say after staring at the wine.

The waitress put the decanter down on the table and opened the wine bottle. Heather scanned the label as the redhead poured the wine into the glass container and then she smiled at Catherine.

"A very nice bottle," she murmured. "Do you have an admirer, perhaps?"

Catherine snorted. Once the waitress was gone, she said, "Hardly... he slept with my mother." At Heather's arched eyebrow, Catherine folded and admitted the truth. "He's my father."


She nodded and poured some of the wine into her glass. After a quick sip, she said, "Really. I only found out a couple of years ago."

"You didn't suspect...?"

"A little," Catherine conceded. "He spent a lot of time with my mom over the years... and he treated me well... I didn't know, though, until I was running an investigation that led us to him."

"That had to be hard on you," Heather said quietly.

The strawberry blonde nodded. "It was... it still is. We're not close. I can barely stand to be in the same room with him... the thought of us, related... it's hard to process sometimes."

"Family isn't easy," she said in that same quiet voice as she toyed with the rim of her new wine glass. "At least he knows quality wines."

Catherine smiled. "So, he has a good side."

"You were visiting him tonight?"

She nodded again. "I had some unfinished business with him," she said. When she thought about the evidence she had stolen, she didn't feel the usual pangs of guilt; she felt relieved and confident that she had done the right thing, instead. She shrugged. "I can't trust him much... but... he was helpful tonight."

"Hopefully you two will find some common footing," Heather murmured. She sipped her wine and then smiled. "This is really good."

Catherine smiled again. "It really is," she agreed. She cleared her throat and then leaned in a bit. "You took the night off... because of your fight with your daughter?"

Heather frowned slightly. "I didn't think it would be fair to channel my energy into dominating someone tonight," she conceded. "Especially someone I don't know. Hardly seems fair to subject someone to unnecessary wrath."

"Well, I'm sorry you're having problems with your daughter, but I am glad to run into a friendly face," Catherine told her.

The brunette raised her glass and smiled again. "I am, as well."


Gil yawned as he slid the key into Catherine's front door. He turned the lock and then the knob, before pushing the door open; the house was quiet, but it wasn't dark.

Upon stepping into the living room, he saw Lily reading the newspaper and drinking tea. She looked surprised to see him enter the house unannounced, but she smiled up at him.

"How was your shift?" she asked. "There's some tea in the kitchen if---"

Gil put his hand up as his cheeks flushed. "No, thank you, Lily. I was hoping to see Catherine," he told her.

"She's out," Lily said. "She left an hour ago, but didn't wake me when she left."

Gil smiled. "But, you're awake now," he pointed out.

Lily smiled up at him from her chair. "Sam called," she explained before returning her gaze to her paper, "and after we talked, I couldn't fall back asleep."

"Oh. That's unfortunate."

"He told me Catherine paid him a visit tonight," she added. "I expect she'll be home soon. She doesn't usually stay out all night---unless she's at work."

Gil's brow furrowed. He couldn't recall a time over the past few days when Catherine mentioned that she needed to speak with Sam; he wasn't sure how he felt about her going to visit that man, especially without telling him about the meeting.

After another yawn, he said, "Well... I'm exhausted. I'm going to go lie down. If you're still up---"

"I'll let her know you're here," Lily told him with a teasing smile on his lips.

Gil nodded wearily and turned down the hall towards Catherine's bedroom. As he undressed, he worried about Sara and wondered why Catherine had gone to see Sam. Even though he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, he couldn't stop his mind from going back and forth from one woman to the other. By the time he fell asleep, Catherine had yet to return home.


Between the harsh whipping and the gentle touching, Catherine's mind was reeling by the time Lady Heather leaned in and pressed her lips to hers. She moaned wordlessly and strained against the chains that hung from the ceiling.

"Beautiful," Heather whispered before seeking another kiss.

Catherine pressed her nude body against Heather's clothed body and sought more friction to fan the fire building inside of her.

After a few glasses of wine, Heather had made her an offer; Catherine had accepted the offer without hesitation. She had never hated the time she spent at the dominion and she knew the brunette needed some time with someone she could trust. She was also intrigued by the dark look in Lady Heather's eyes. The intensity of her gaze had made Catherine melt and shiver at the same time.

"Are you sure?"

As Heather's fingers travelled over Catherine's hip, the strawberry blonde opened her eyes and nodded. "I told you I'm all in," she whispered hoarsely before licking her lips and smiling.

The brunette smiled back and stole another kiss. This embrace was rougher and before she pulled away, Heather bit Catherine's lower lip and growled as she dragged her nails over Catherine's back.

The forensic scientist moaned and whimpered and tugged against the chains, lost in the sensations washing over her.


Gil walked with the orderly to the nurse's station. He expected to go in and get those drawers unlocked, but he saw Catherine holding Sara down on the ground, holding a knife to the brunette's neck as she whispered menacingly in her ear.

"Oh dear god," Gil breathed as Sara struggled to get free, to no avail. "Open the door," he said to the orderly.

"I can't... I don't have the right key," the orderly replied.

"Just open it," Gil muttered.

The orderly couldn't open the door. Gil's heart pounded in his head and he banged his fists against the glass. "Catherine! Don't!"

"You!" she shouted, turning her attention from Sara to Gil. "You... go away!"

"No!" Gil shouted back. He watched as Sara bolted from the room, running to the window at the end of the corridor. Catherine brought the blade up to her neck and sliced it across her neck. "Catherine! Stop!" He looked around wildly. "Get a medic in there!" he yelled.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw Sara standing next to him. "Come with me," she whispered.

He kept trying to shout for help, but no one but the orderly was in the small room with Catherine. He kept pressure applied to the neck wound and was checking her pulse; but then, Sara pulled him away from that grisly scene and took him to another room.

They kissed a few times. As his hands travelled over her back and stomach, they found something wet. Startled, he pulled back and saw his hands were covered in blood. When he looked at Sara, he saw that she was pale and shivering slightly.

"What... what happened?"

She put her hand over her belly and when she slid it away, there was a wound seeping blood over her body. "She got me," Sara mumbled.

"Why? Why would she do that?"

"Because we don't believe in the same things," Sara said with a shrug. "She doesn't want you to be my boyfriend."

"But, we're... we're together!"

Sara smiled and shook her head. "That's what you think," she said, before everything went black and red.


Gil woke up, gasping for breath. He pushed his face out of the pillow he had been holding onto and looked wildly around the room as he gained his bearings. It became clear that it was still late, the sun hadn't risen yet, and Catherine had yet to return home.

He sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair before tucking his face back into the pillow underneath him. He groaned when he felt an erection pressing into the mattress; it was uncomfortable and it worried him, that he could be aroused after that dream.


Catherine walked into her home and locked the door behind her. She saw a note from her mother on the foyer table, so after she took her shoes and coat off, she put her purse down and picked up the piece of paper.

'Catherine, Gil stopped by. He's still here. And you say you're not dating him. Love, your mother.'

She bit back a groan and stuffed the note in her pocket. She went into the kitchen for a drink, and after her thirst was quenched, she decided to go to her bedroom. She had already showered at Heather's, so she just wanted to crawl into bed for a sound sleep.

When she opened the door and peered inside, she saw Gil stretched out on her bed. His eyes were scrunched shut and in the dimly lit room as his fist moved up and down over his erection. Her sexual appetite had been satisfied, but she had to admit to herself that Gil was very attractive in that position.

"Hey," she whispered.

Gil's eyes popped open and moved towards the sound of her voice. She smiled and closed the door before stepping towards him.

"You're back," he whispered.

"I am," she murmured. She went to her closet and started to undress. She smiled over her shoulder. "Don't stop on my account," she purred.

Gil chuckled quietly. When she pulled her shirt off, over her head, he gasped. She glanced at him. "What?"

"Did Sam beat you?" he asked, sitting up in bed, his masturbation session forgotten. "What happened?"

Catherine slipped a camisole on and then turned to face him as she took her pants off. "Who told you I went to see Sam?"

"Your mother," he replied.

She grumbled under her breath. "He must've called her..." She sighed and looked at him. "No, Sam didn't beat me."

"Then... what on earth happened to you?"

"I... I bumped into Lady Heather," she confessed, "and we had a drink or two together... and then... I went back to her place. She had had a fight with her daughter and we both needed to unwind a bit."

"So... you let her whip you, for the hell of it?" Gil asked quietly as she made her way over to the bed and climbed in.

"Not for the hell of it," Catherine murmured. She leaned over and kissed Gil's shoulder before sliding her hand down his thigh and to his erection. She squeezed the shaft and smiled when he groaned softly. "I thought it would be fun," she whispered before kissing Gil's lips. "She wanted it... and I wanted it... and it was very hot."

Gil moaned and tucked his face into her shoulder. Catherine chuckled and kissed his temple before she used her other hand to scratch his stomach and chest. She continued to use both of her hands to tease him into a frenzy; when the storm passed, with a grunt and a moan, she eased him onto his back and kissed him gently.

"So... you and Heather...?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "Wasn't exactly planned... but... yeah."

She had hoped he'd say something. She had expected a reaction. Instead, he drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. She hugged him close and closed her eyes, resigning herself to receiving no reaction at all.

"Tomorrow..." Gil said quietly, "do you think we could work on more of my office duties?"

Catherine smiled and kissed his chin. "If you want to," she murmured.

He tipped her head and moved so he could kiss her lips. "Unless you'd like to test me now," he offered.

She laughed quietly and slid her leg over his hip. "I'll wear the shoes again tomorrow, if you'd like," she whispered in his ear.

Gil groaned and turned over, pressing her into the mattress. Even in the dimly lit bedroom, she could tell his eyes were darkening with arousal. He brushed his fingers over her arm until he reached her wrist. He took her hand and pinned it above her head; Catherine shivered and when he released her wrist, she kept it above her head.

"I might want to take my time," he whispered.

Catherine swallowed hard and nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to me," she whispered back.

He smiled and kissed her. She wasn't sure if he had become so amourous in response to her evening with Heather or in response to a memory of their office entanglements, but as he brushed his lips and beard over her neck and breasts, Catherine decided she really didn't mind so much either way.

The End!
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