FIC: Reunion, Hard R/NC-17, 1/1
Title: Reunion
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: Hard R/NC-17 - I leave it to you guys to tell me which rating to use.
Summary: Friends help friends, even if a little blackmail is required.
Notes: The timeline in this may be a little goofy in terms of just how long Catherine’s been working at the lab, and for that, I apologize. The fic is set in early December 2005 and contains minor spoilers for S6. Also, consider this a public beta. I’m not entirely convinced about some of the scenes, so input is welcome.
Disclaimer: Zuiker and Bruckheimer and others = legal owners of the rights to CSI and the CSI characters. Keezer = legal owner of a nifty snow brush that got used for the first time last week.
~*~*~
“Gil, please, I’m begging you.” Catherine clutched at his sleeve and gave him her best pity-me look. She made sure her eyes were wide with a hint of extra moisture, and she allowed her lower lip to quiver just enough to be noticeable. It was the kind of manipulation she despised in other people, especially Lindsey, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It was that desperation that led Catherine to reach for and find a memory that brought a tear to her eye; she blinked rapidly to make sure Gil noticed.
He remained unmoved.
“No. I won’t do it. Ask Warrick.” Gil continued on his way to his office, seemingly unaware that he was pulling Catherine along in his wake.
If they’d been anywhere that didn’t have surveillance cameras, she would have assaulted him with the case file he refused to look up from. “He’s married - remember?”
That, at least, made him stop and look at her. “Oh yeah. Yoko-something, right? Like John’s wife.”
“Tina,” she answered, her jaw clenched tightly.
Damn Greg for putting that nickname into everyone’s head, and double-damn Gil for playing her just then. The bastard knew perfectly well what the woman’s name was. Fine. He wanted to play the village idiot? She’d treat him like the village idiot.
In a too-sweet voice, Catherine explained, “Warrick’s wife’s name is Tina. And because he has a wife who prefers that he not go out with other women, I won’t be asking him.”
Gil’s lips twitched in a slight smirk. “I can see where that would be a problem.”
“Exactly!”
“But not - not - my problem.” Gil started walking again. “Get Jim to take you.”
“That won’t work either - Sofia would object.” Catherine grabbed his arm and forced him to a halt, sparing a brief thought for how much easier this would be if Gil just reacted with his hormones like every other man out there. “All I’m -”
“Jim and Sofia are dating?” Gil’s eyebrows went up.
“Yes, but -”
He cocked his head to the side, genuinely confused now. “I thought she was dating someone else.”
“Gil - focus. I need you -” She poked him in the chest. “- To go with me.”
“What about Nick or Greg?” His expression brightened with false cheer as he suggested, “You could take Hodges - he’d be glad for the chance to suck up.”
Mindful of the camera right behind them, Catherine refrained from decking him. Barely. “No, hell no, and are you completely out of your mind?”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose Conrad is out of the question?” The glare she directed at him had been known to reduce lesser men to puddles of whimpering goo. Gil took it without flinching. “Why me?”
She was relieved that he finally asked the right question instead of trying to duck out of helping her. “You’re my best friend, and you’re the only one I want with me that night. If you’re there, I can actually have fun.”
Gil scowled. “Play fair, Catherine.”
“I am.” When he started to move away again, she got in front of him and started walking backward. “I mean it - if you’re there, I can relax and have fun. The food should be good, and there’ll be danc -” She cut herself off, but judging by the expression on his face, it wasn’t soon enough. “I can teach you.”
“I don’t want to learn.” He scooted around her and kept walking.
As she watched him walk away, she called out, “Damn it! Don’t make me bring up Lake Tahoe!”
Gil stopped in the middle of the hall, his shoulders slumped in recognition of defeat. “You promised you would never hold that against me.”
“I promised never to bring it up unless it was an emergency.” She caught up to him and added, “This is an emergency.”
His shoulders drooped further, and without looking at her, he answered, “Fine. This is an emergency. But you don’t get to use Tahoe against me ever again.”
“Thank you!” She grabbed his head and pulled him down to give him a big kiss on the cheek. “I’ll swing by your place after shift.”
Confused, he asked, “Why?”
Catherine was moving fast when she answered, “Your first dance lesson!”
~*~*~
Gil stood in Catherine’s living room, returning the glare Lindsey directed at him with a fairly neutral look of his own. When she stormed off after a few minutes, he figured it meant he won. Right on the heels of that thought was the depressing knowledge that he was kind of proud of the fact that he’d beaten a teenager at her own game.
“Well? How do I look?”
He glanced up to see Catherine spin around. When she stopped moving, he hesitated for a long moment, trying to reconcile what he knew of her with what he saw before him. The disparity was too great for immediate resolution. “You’re wearing that to your reunion?”
“Yes.” Catherine’s face fell. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“It kind of makes you look - I don’t know - a little big in the hips,” he answered, with the vague sense that he was on thin ice and could go under at any moment. He squinted as he studied her more carefully. “The color’s not that good on you either.”
“Gil!” She sounded a bit devastated, but her expression was the exact one he’d seen every time she missed a sale at Nieman Marcus, so he figured she was just pissed at him. Anger, he could deal with.
He shrugged. “You asked what I thought. I told you.”
Catherine worked her mouth for a moment before asking, “Do you talk like this to all your dates?”
“Yeah. Why?” He really didn’t like that dress on her. She usually had better taste than this.
“How many second dates have you had lately?”
“None,” he answered absently. There truly wasn’t anything redeemable about the dress.
“I can see why.”
Before she could get her rant on, Gil asked, “Why don’t you wear that black satin dress? The halter with the sequins around the waist.”
Blinking at the sudden change of direction, she shook her head. “What?”
“You know the one. Falls just below your knees.” He smiled at the memory. “That’s a great dress. It makes you look like a movie star.”
“It - a movie star?”
She seemed to be waiting for something more, so he said, “Yeah. It makes you look glamorous.” Gil liked that dress. A lot. It did great things for her tush.
“Glamorous.” She waited for a long moment, looking uncertain. “So, you’re saying I should wear the black dress instead?”
“Yep.” He sat down on the couch. “I’ll wait here while you change.”
~*~*~
Three blocks from the Montecito, Gil turned onto a side street and pulled over to the curb. After a few seconds Catherine asked, “Is there a reason we’re not going to the hotel?”
“I want to know what’s really going on before we get there.”
“I told you - it’s my class reunion.” She shifted in her seat and wished he would just start driving again.
“I don’t think so.” His tone was mild, and that was enough to make more than a few of Catherine’s warning bells go off. He sounded exactly the way he did when he was about to nail a suspect with all the evidence.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you, Gil, because really, we’re going to my class reunion.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. It was unlikely that he’d think she was all that interested in the pink flamingo flock on the lawn to their right, but she had to make the effort.
“You’ve shown up at my place every day for the last two weeks to teach me how to dance. You went through my closet with a fine-tooth comb and ordered - not asked - ordered me to wear this outfit tonight. Earlier today, you left a message on my machine ordering - not asking - ordering me to get my car cleaned, because I’m not allowed to drive the SUV even though I’m on call. When I arrived at your place tonight, you were wearing a dress that made you look frumpy.” He turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. “You and frumpy don’t work together, so again, I have to ask - what’s going on?”
She raised her right hand to her mouth and gave into the temptation to bite a fingernail. Catherine risked a quick glance at him, and when it was clear he wasn’t moving until he got some answers, she sighed. “The, um, the last time I went to one of these things, it was before I started working at the lab.”
“Okay. I’m not getting a picture yet. Keep going.”
Catherine thought back to that night fifteen years earlier and winced. “Eddie went with me. We were both drunk, and on top of that, Eddie was stoned.”
After a moment, Gil said, “I think I’m seeing the broad strokes now. What happened?”
“What do you think happened? I was dressed the way he liked, in sequins and satin -”
“Not like -” He gestured at her dress.
“What? Oh. No. Nothing like this. Trust me when I say a dress like this would have been way too conservative for Eddie’s tastes.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I wore a dress that would have looked right at home next to one of Liberace’s costumes. Eddie liked it because it showed off my tits.”
“Catherine -”
“No. You have a right to know what’s going on.” Catherine couldn’t look at him. She was certain she wouldn’t see any judgment, and she thought maybe that was the problem. She felt like she should be judged, and Gil being Gil, it wasn’t going to happen anywhere but in her mind. “Anyway, we weren’t sober when we showed up.”
“I take it you made an impression?”
“Oh yeah,” she said on a bitter laugh. “Definitely made one of those. I was in the ladies room when several ‘friends’ came in, laughing about it.”
“Did they know you were there?”
Catherine couldn’t resist anymore. She glanced at Gil’s face to see if - nope. Not a damn thing. Honestly, the man could make a living playing poker. “No. I was in one of the stalls, so I got to hear all about what a slut I was and what kind of loser Eddie was and - you’re getting the picture now, right?”
“I think so.” He reached out and snagged her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Did you stay for long after that?”
She shook her head and held onto Gil’s hand. “No. I tracked down Eddie as soon as I could and got us the hell out.” Catherine’s throat tightened up, and she had to pause while she convinced herself that crying over a stupid memory was a really bad idea. When she got herself back under control, she looked at Gil and gave him a shaky smile. “One good thing came out of it - I told Eddie that night I was getting my degree come hell or high water. I wasn’t going to let him talk me out of finishing.”
“And you didn’t.” They sat quietly for a few moments, and then Gil pulled his hand away from Catherine and put the car in gear. “What role am I playing tonight? New boyfriend? Proud lover? Indulgent husband?”
“You don’t have to -”
“Yes, I think I do, especially considering all the trouble you’ve gone to in order to prove that you’ve grown up.” He twisted his lips slightly. “If I had to guess, I would say that I’m playing proud lover tonight. A new boyfriend wouldn’t have the same impact, and you didn’t get me a wedding ring.”
“Um, Gil?”
At the next stop sign, he looked at her, and Catherine held up her left hand. “Ah. I’m to be your fiancé then?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a pretty nice rock. Where’d you get it?”
“Sam loaned it to me,” she said quietly.
“Catherine -”
Of all times for him to start disapproving, she thought, did it have to be now? “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Fine. It’s your decision.” He sounded a little pissed, and she really couldn’t blame him.
~*~*~
Gil handed his keys to the valet service and walked around the front of his car. He glanced at the entrance and saw three women intently watching Catherine while Catherine studiously ignored them. When he reached her, he put one arm around her and lifted his other hand to her face. To their observers, it would look as though he were caressing her. Gil did it to hide Catherine’s expression from the other women.
He gave her a loving look and said quietly, “I make three of them at the door.”
She matched his expression and said just as quietly, “Two more just came out behind you.”
“Everyone’s watching? They saw the car?”
At that, she grinned. “No, they drooled over the car. Gil, I really am sorry about -”
“Don’t worry about it - we have a show to put on, remember?” With that, he bent his head slightly to kiss her - and nearly drew back in surprise. It wasn’t like he’d never kissed her before, because he had. There had even been an open-mouthed kiss one time when she was trying to piss Eddie off.
But none of those kisses compared to this one, and he needed to figure out why he’d never before wanted to crawl inside her the way he did right then. Theoretically, he’d always known that she was soft and warm and pleasant to hold, and it was nice, getting a practical demonstration of that. Still, he was back to the fact that something had changed, and the best way to understand that change was to keep kissing her and noting his reactions. He was so absorbed in his research that it took Catherine pinching him to get him to lift his head.
“Gil?”
“Huh?” Somewhere inside his head, he knew he’d just done something incredibly stupid - crossed a line that should never have been crossed. That same part of his brain also informed him that he probably looked like an idiot at the moment, staring at her with his mouth hanging open. The rest of him, including parts south, suggested that maybe they could finish this experiment elsewhere.
“I think -” She swallowed hard, giving Gil another piece of the puzzle - Catherine felt it, too. Her voice husky, she said, “I think we’ve made our point.”
“What point?” He dipped his head to see if her earlobe tasted as good as it looked.
“Christ.” She leaned into him then took a deliberate step back, ignoring his attempts to hold her close. “Reunion, Gil. Mine. I’m not going to screw this one up, too.”
Her comment was a welcome dash of reality, no matter how embarrassed Gil was that she felt the need to remind him they were in public. “Right. Reunion. I didn’t - they won’t -”
“We should be okay.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, then put her hand on his arm. “Shall we?”
~*~*~
Catherine wore the same smile she used whenever she used to give private shows to whales. It was a smile that told the viewer they were seeing something very intimate and personal, and they really should be happy to pay for the privilege. It was a smile that Catherine could hide behind, and it was a smile that worked reasonably well against Amanda Parker’s thinly veiled attempts to get under her skin.
“So tell me, Cat -” God, she hated that nickname “- where is that charming gentleman you brought with you the last time?”
She was spared the need to answer when she felt Gil’s hand on her shoulder. He gave Catherine her drink and answered Amanda with, “Lindsey’s father was killed in a flash flood a few years ago. It was a devastating loss for her, and the family is still dealing with the void left by his death.” To Catherine, he said, “I know I just got you a drink, sweetheart, but they’re playing our song. Dance with me?”
“Um, yes. Of course.” Catherine put her drink on the table and gave Gil her hand. He took it and led them to the dance floor. She would have preferred to find someplace quiet where the two of them could talk - or whatever - and she was pretty sure Gil felt the same way after that kiss. For now, though, she’d have to settle for dancing.
When they settled into each other’s arms, he said, “I don’t want to be accused of generalizing, but are women always that nasty when they’re socializing?”
She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “No. Sometimes, they’re a lot worse. Your timing was perfect, by the way.”
“Hm.” He held her a little closer. “I’m not leaving you alone like that again tonight. If I get called to a scene, you’re coming with me.”
“It’s not like I don’t have some of this coming.” It was true, she thought, no matter how hard it was to admit that. She’d been a terror in high school, and the way she’d acted at the ten-year reunion was unforgivable.
“They’re out for blood. No one deserves that.”
She shrugged. “No one deserved the way I treated them in high school, either.”
“That was twenty-five years ago, and you’re not the same person. It’s time for them to get over it, don’t you think?”
~*~*~
“I could have sworn someone told me you were an exotic dancer.” The woman, Charlene-something-or-other, spoke with a knowing tone that implied everything.
Never one to mince words, Catherine answered, “I stripped when I was still young enough, but now I work for the Las Vegas Crime Lab.”
“Oh? As a secretary? If you’re looking for a new job -”
Catherine broke in with, “As a crime scene investigator.”
Gil suppressed yet another urge to throw Catherine over his shoulder and leave. Anything had to be better than listening to her classmates get their shots in while they could, and yes, “anything” included her beating him up if he was completely mistaken about the effect they were having on each other. He trailed a finger down her back and maintained an innocent air when she elbowed him in response.
With Catherine proving to be an unhelpful target, Charlene-something turned to him. “So, Mr. Grissom, how -”
“Doctor.” He didn’t normally throw his degree around like that, but two hours of slights and catty comments were bringing out his snotty side.
Charlene-something asked, “Doctor? What type of practice do you have?”
“I have a Ph.D.” His answer was abrupt, and he didn’t bother hiding his boredom at being involved in the conversation.
Catherine stepped on his foot in warning. “Gil is one of America’s top forensic entomologists. He’s the man that other scientists call when they need answers.”
“Oh.” Clearly, Charlene hadn’t expected that. He wondered if she thought he was a plastic surgeon. She probably figured that explained why Catherine looked so much better than most of the women there.
“Yes. Oh.” He gathered Catherine to his side and said in a low voice, “Darling, would you like to dance again?”
~*~*~
They were in a back corner, hiding from the curious eyes. “Are we done here?”
“I guess.” Though she hated how morose she sounded, Catherine couldn’t seem to shake off the funk she’d settled into once they checked in at the party.
Gil lifted her chin with his finger. “We can stay longer if you need to.”
“No. It’s just -”
“No regrets, remember?”
The hell of it was that at the moment, her regrets had nothing to do with her behavior fifteen years ago. Instead, they were centered around the kiss she’d ended earlier. She’d thought she could shake it off, but at odd moments throughout the night, she’d caught herself looking at his lips and remembering how they’d slid against hers.
“You’re right. No regrets.” He smiled slightly, and Catherine pulled his head down so she could kiss him. Though he went still from surprise, it wasn’t long before he was kissing her with as much enthusiasm as he had earlier. Clearly, their earlier reaction hadn’t been a fluke, and she found herself pinching him again to get his attention. “Take me home with you.”
Her order, she was happy to see, didn’t startle him at all. Even better, he didn’t question her. Gil simply said, “Get our coats. I’ll have the car brought up.”
~*~*~
Gil didn’t say anything from the time Catherine suggested they leave until they arrived at his townhouse and were standing in his living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. That’s not what I want.” Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with an intensity that knocked through what few defenses he had left. The kisses they’d shared earlier were just warm-ups for this one, and Gil wanted nothing more than to get them both against a flat surface. He didn’t particularly care if the surface was horizontal or vertical.
He ended the kiss reluctantly, and when she tried to start again, he shook his head. “Either we move to my bedroom now, or it’s going to be up against a wall.”
“Wall could be fun,” she murmured before stepping away. “But I think I’d prefer a little more comfort than that.” When they reached his bedroom, Catherine turned around and smiled as she unknotted his tie. “Gil, did you ever see me strip?”
His mouth dry, he answered, “Yeah. You know I did. Jimmy Tedaro took me to see you right after I moved to Vegas.”
“Did you ever get a lap dance?”
Gil’s brain shorted out a little. He’d wanted one and would have gotten it, too, if Jimmy hadn’t told him Catherine might end up working in the lab one day. “No.”
With a mischievous gleam in her eye, she asked, “Do you want one?”
It was too much. Catherine had to know damn well he wanted one, but there was no way in hell he was going to last if she did that now. In a complicated flurry of motion doomed to failure, he tried to get her dress off as he tried to undress himself while he simultaneously tried to lay claim to every square millimeter of surface inside her mouth.
He gave up when he realized that he’d managed to trap his arms in his jacket and shirt. A bit grumpy, he mumbled, “You don’t have to laugh so hard. It isn’t that funny.”
Catherine caught his face between her hands and kissed him sweetly, almost chastely. “Yes it is. Are you ready to let the expert handle the disrobing?”
Gil’s brain shorted out a little more, especially when Catherine took her sweet time pushing his jacket and shirt the rest of the way off. As she dragged her hands down his chest, breathing became an act of will, a will that was broken when she reached his trousers.
He stared down, waiting for too damn long as she teased at the hook before finally ending the small torture. “Breathe, Gil.”
~*~*~
Had Catherine expected this when she blackmailed Gil into going with her? Maybe not, she thought, but it might have in the back of her head. She didn’t know if she should feel guilty about that or not, and the question itself was swept away when Gil, naked at long last, started working on getting her out of the rest of her clothing.
She was profoundly grateful for the lack of grace that allowed him to tell her point blank to change her dress, because a halter was a damn sight easier to get out of than the monstrosity she’d been wearing earlier. With the skirt already unzipped, the dress fell down as soon as Gil released the hooks at her neck. She felt a little silly, standing there in panties and thigh highs, but Gil’s blatant appreciation of what he saw was enough to dispel the feeling.
Catherine backed up until she felt the bed behind her. Gil, however, didn’t think to stop, and he tumbled them both to the mattress. As he situated them both, she realized that maybe he’d known exactly what he was doing, because he sure as hell knew what he was doing with his hand right then.
She arched into his touch, and her release hit her harder and faster than she would have believed possible. Dazed, she watched as he shifted slightly to reach his nightstand. “The hell?”
He gave her a smug grin, and she planned to slap it off his face - just as soon as she could move again. “It was strongly implied earlier this evening that I don’t know how to treat a date.” Gil leaned down and kissed Catherine a bit more senseless. “I thought you might like to know I’m not that rude all the time.”
“Jesus.” Gil shifted her legs onto the bed and helped her move up and to the center before crawling after her.
He held out the condom. “Can you do the honors?”
Catherine’s hand twitched slightly. “I’d love to, but I’m a little boneless right now.” He smirked. “You can wipe that look off your face any time.”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I really can’t.”
~*~*~
Gil hadn’t had occasion to use a condom in a while, and he was more than a little frustrated at how long it was taking to roll one on. Still, judging by the way Catherine was perking up again, maybe the delay was good. Protection in place, he moved between her legs and took a good long look at her. “Ready?”
She reached up for another kiss and murmured, “More than. Now, Gil.”
He pushed in and moaned as he was enveloped by her tight warmth. For several long seconds, he held himself still as he tried to bring himself back from the brink. If he could just -
Catherine shifted her hips, forcing the issue, and Gil found enough control to go with the motion. He went slowly at first, trying to find and match her rhythm even as he worked to accommodate his own. Moving fast at times, slow at other times, the two of them got to know each other. Gil learned that if he shifted just to the left as he pushed in, he was able to make Catherine squeak. They both learned that if she bit him just so on the neck, it was almost enough to make him completely lose control.
Hanging on wasn’t easy - not that anything to do with Catherine ever was - but he managed to do so long enough to take her over the edge once more before following her. Sated and breathing too heavily for the peace of his ego, he rolled onto his side and asked, “No regrets?”
“Not a one.”
~*~*~
“Damn it, Gil!” Catherine slammed her hand on his desk before continuing with, “I’m telling you there’s something more to his story.”
“And I’m telling you there isn’t!” He wasn’t backing down on this, and Catherine was ready to scream in frustration. “Look at the evidence - it’s all there, including motive.”
“But -!”
“Um, Gil? Catherine?” They turned to look at Greg, and judging by the way he winced, Catherine thought maybe neither of them looked terribly friendly at the moment.
Gil took a deep breath. “Yes, Greg?”
“Just thought you should know - Sara found another print at the scene. It doesn’t match our suspect or victim.” Catherine glanced up in time to see the frown that crossed Gil’s face. “Um. Yeah. I have - something - to process. Later.”
She didn’t say anything after Greg escaped.
Gil finally suggested in a relatively calm tone of voice, “The print could belong to someone who’d been there weeks ago.”
“Or it could belong to an accomplice.”
“Fine.” Clearly irritated, he sat at his desk and moved paper around, refusing to look at her.
She watched him for a long moment before bending down low and whispering, “You’re sexy when you pout, you know that?”
It was enough to make him give her a warning look. “I thought we agreed to keep our relationship out of the office.”
“Can I help it if you pout when you’re wrong?”
He pointed at the door. “Out!”
She sauntered toward it. “We still on after shift?”
“My place. Now leave so I can get some work done.”
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: Hard R/NC-17 - I leave it to you guys to tell me which rating to use.
Summary: Friends help friends, even if a little blackmail is required.
Notes: The timeline in this may be a little goofy in terms of just how long Catherine’s been working at the lab, and for that, I apologize. The fic is set in early December 2005 and contains minor spoilers for S6. Also, consider this a public beta. I’m not entirely convinced about some of the scenes, so input is welcome.
Disclaimer: Zuiker and Bruckheimer and others = legal owners of the rights to CSI and the CSI characters. Keezer = legal owner of a nifty snow brush that got used for the first time last week.
~*~*~
“Gil, please, I’m begging you.” Catherine clutched at his sleeve and gave him her best pity-me look. She made sure her eyes were wide with a hint of extra moisture, and she allowed her lower lip to quiver just enough to be noticeable. It was the kind of manipulation she despised in other people, especially Lindsey, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It was that desperation that led Catherine to reach for and find a memory that brought a tear to her eye; she blinked rapidly to make sure Gil noticed.
He remained unmoved.
“No. I won’t do it. Ask Warrick.” Gil continued on his way to his office, seemingly unaware that he was pulling Catherine along in his wake.
If they’d been anywhere that didn’t have surveillance cameras, she would have assaulted him with the case file he refused to look up from. “He’s married - remember?”
That, at least, made him stop and look at her. “Oh yeah. Yoko-something, right? Like John’s wife.”
“Tina,” she answered, her jaw clenched tightly.
Damn Greg for putting that nickname into everyone’s head, and double-damn Gil for playing her just then. The bastard knew perfectly well what the woman’s name was. Fine. He wanted to play the village idiot? She’d treat him like the village idiot.
In a too-sweet voice, Catherine explained, “Warrick’s wife’s name is Tina. And because he has a wife who prefers that he not go out with other women, I won’t be asking him.”
Gil’s lips twitched in a slight smirk. “I can see where that would be a problem.”
“Exactly!”
“But not - not - my problem.” Gil started walking again. “Get Jim to take you.”
“That won’t work either - Sofia would object.” Catherine grabbed his arm and forced him to a halt, sparing a brief thought for how much easier this would be if Gil just reacted with his hormones like every other man out there. “All I’m -”
“Jim and Sofia are dating?” Gil’s eyebrows went up.
“Yes, but -”
He cocked his head to the side, genuinely confused now. “I thought she was dating someone else.”
“Gil - focus. I need you -” She poked him in the chest. “- To go with me.”
“What about Nick or Greg?” His expression brightened with false cheer as he suggested, “You could take Hodges - he’d be glad for the chance to suck up.”
Mindful of the camera right behind them, Catherine refrained from decking him. Barely. “No, hell no, and are you completely out of your mind?”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose Conrad is out of the question?” The glare she directed at him had been known to reduce lesser men to puddles of whimpering goo. Gil took it without flinching. “Why me?”
She was relieved that he finally asked the right question instead of trying to duck out of helping her. “You’re my best friend, and you’re the only one I want with me that night. If you’re there, I can actually have fun.”
Gil scowled. “Play fair, Catherine.”
“I am.” When he started to move away again, she got in front of him and started walking backward. “I mean it - if you’re there, I can relax and have fun. The food should be good, and there’ll be danc -” She cut herself off, but judging by the expression on his face, it wasn’t soon enough. “I can teach you.”
“I don’t want to learn.” He scooted around her and kept walking.
As she watched him walk away, she called out, “Damn it! Don’t make me bring up Lake Tahoe!”
Gil stopped in the middle of the hall, his shoulders slumped in recognition of defeat. “You promised you would never hold that against me.”
“I promised never to bring it up unless it was an emergency.” She caught up to him and added, “This is an emergency.”
His shoulders drooped further, and without looking at her, he answered, “Fine. This is an emergency. But you don’t get to use Tahoe against me ever again.”
“Thank you!” She grabbed his head and pulled him down to give him a big kiss on the cheek. “I’ll swing by your place after shift.”
Confused, he asked, “Why?”
Catherine was moving fast when she answered, “Your first dance lesson!”
~*~*~
Gil stood in Catherine’s living room, returning the glare Lindsey directed at him with a fairly neutral look of his own. When she stormed off after a few minutes, he figured it meant he won. Right on the heels of that thought was the depressing knowledge that he was kind of proud of the fact that he’d beaten a teenager at her own game.
“Well? How do I look?”
He glanced up to see Catherine spin around. When she stopped moving, he hesitated for a long moment, trying to reconcile what he knew of her with what he saw before him. The disparity was too great for immediate resolution. “You’re wearing that to your reunion?”
“Yes.” Catherine’s face fell. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“It kind of makes you look - I don’t know - a little big in the hips,” he answered, with the vague sense that he was on thin ice and could go under at any moment. He squinted as he studied her more carefully. “The color’s not that good on you either.”
“Gil!” She sounded a bit devastated, but her expression was the exact one he’d seen every time she missed a sale at Nieman Marcus, so he figured she was just pissed at him. Anger, he could deal with.
He shrugged. “You asked what I thought. I told you.”
Catherine worked her mouth for a moment before asking, “Do you talk like this to all your dates?”
“Yeah. Why?” He really didn’t like that dress on her. She usually had better taste than this.
“How many second dates have you had lately?”
“None,” he answered absently. There truly wasn’t anything redeemable about the dress.
“I can see why.”
Before she could get her rant on, Gil asked, “Why don’t you wear that black satin dress? The halter with the sequins around the waist.”
Blinking at the sudden change of direction, she shook her head. “What?”
“You know the one. Falls just below your knees.” He smiled at the memory. “That’s a great dress. It makes you look like a movie star.”
“It - a movie star?”
She seemed to be waiting for something more, so he said, “Yeah. It makes you look glamorous.” Gil liked that dress. A lot. It did great things for her tush.
“Glamorous.” She waited for a long moment, looking uncertain. “So, you’re saying I should wear the black dress instead?”
“Yep.” He sat down on the couch. “I’ll wait here while you change.”
~*~*~
Three blocks from the Montecito, Gil turned onto a side street and pulled over to the curb. After a few seconds Catherine asked, “Is there a reason we’re not going to the hotel?”
“I want to know what’s really going on before we get there.”
“I told you - it’s my class reunion.” She shifted in her seat and wished he would just start driving again.
“I don’t think so.” His tone was mild, and that was enough to make more than a few of Catherine’s warning bells go off. He sounded exactly the way he did when he was about to nail a suspect with all the evidence.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you, Gil, because really, we’re going to my class reunion.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. It was unlikely that he’d think she was all that interested in the pink flamingo flock on the lawn to their right, but she had to make the effort.
“You’ve shown up at my place every day for the last two weeks to teach me how to dance. You went through my closet with a fine-tooth comb and ordered - not asked - ordered me to wear this outfit tonight. Earlier today, you left a message on my machine ordering - not asking - ordering me to get my car cleaned, because I’m not allowed to drive the SUV even though I’m on call. When I arrived at your place tonight, you were wearing a dress that made you look frumpy.” He turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. “You and frumpy don’t work together, so again, I have to ask - what’s going on?”
She raised her right hand to her mouth and gave into the temptation to bite a fingernail. Catherine risked a quick glance at him, and when it was clear he wasn’t moving until he got some answers, she sighed. “The, um, the last time I went to one of these things, it was before I started working at the lab.”
“Okay. I’m not getting a picture yet. Keep going.”
Catherine thought back to that night fifteen years earlier and winced. “Eddie went with me. We were both drunk, and on top of that, Eddie was stoned.”
After a moment, Gil said, “I think I’m seeing the broad strokes now. What happened?”
“What do you think happened? I was dressed the way he liked, in sequins and satin -”
“Not like -” He gestured at her dress.
“What? Oh. No. Nothing like this. Trust me when I say a dress like this would have been way too conservative for Eddie’s tastes.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I wore a dress that would have looked right at home next to one of Liberace’s costumes. Eddie liked it because it showed off my tits.”
“Catherine -”
“No. You have a right to know what’s going on.” Catherine couldn’t look at him. She was certain she wouldn’t see any judgment, and she thought maybe that was the problem. She felt like she should be judged, and Gil being Gil, it wasn’t going to happen anywhere but in her mind. “Anyway, we weren’t sober when we showed up.”
“I take it you made an impression?”
“Oh yeah,” she said on a bitter laugh. “Definitely made one of those. I was in the ladies room when several ‘friends’ came in, laughing about it.”
“Did they know you were there?”
Catherine couldn’t resist anymore. She glanced at Gil’s face to see if - nope. Not a damn thing. Honestly, the man could make a living playing poker. “No. I was in one of the stalls, so I got to hear all about what a slut I was and what kind of loser Eddie was and - you’re getting the picture now, right?”
“I think so.” He reached out and snagged her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Did you stay for long after that?”
She shook her head and held onto Gil’s hand. “No. I tracked down Eddie as soon as I could and got us the hell out.” Catherine’s throat tightened up, and she had to pause while she convinced herself that crying over a stupid memory was a really bad idea. When she got herself back under control, she looked at Gil and gave him a shaky smile. “One good thing came out of it - I told Eddie that night I was getting my degree come hell or high water. I wasn’t going to let him talk me out of finishing.”
“And you didn’t.” They sat quietly for a few moments, and then Gil pulled his hand away from Catherine and put the car in gear. “What role am I playing tonight? New boyfriend? Proud lover? Indulgent husband?”
“You don’t have to -”
“Yes, I think I do, especially considering all the trouble you’ve gone to in order to prove that you’ve grown up.” He twisted his lips slightly. “If I had to guess, I would say that I’m playing proud lover tonight. A new boyfriend wouldn’t have the same impact, and you didn’t get me a wedding ring.”
“Um, Gil?”
At the next stop sign, he looked at her, and Catherine held up her left hand. “Ah. I’m to be your fiancé then?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a pretty nice rock. Where’d you get it?”
“Sam loaned it to me,” she said quietly.
“Catherine -”
Of all times for him to start disapproving, she thought, did it have to be now? “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Fine. It’s your decision.” He sounded a little pissed, and she really couldn’t blame him.
~*~*~
Gil handed his keys to the valet service and walked around the front of his car. He glanced at the entrance and saw three women intently watching Catherine while Catherine studiously ignored them. When he reached her, he put one arm around her and lifted his other hand to her face. To their observers, it would look as though he were caressing her. Gil did it to hide Catherine’s expression from the other women.
He gave her a loving look and said quietly, “I make three of them at the door.”
She matched his expression and said just as quietly, “Two more just came out behind you.”
“Everyone’s watching? They saw the car?”
At that, she grinned. “No, they drooled over the car. Gil, I really am sorry about -”
“Don’t worry about it - we have a show to put on, remember?” With that, he bent his head slightly to kiss her - and nearly drew back in surprise. It wasn’t like he’d never kissed her before, because he had. There had even been an open-mouthed kiss one time when she was trying to piss Eddie off.
But none of those kisses compared to this one, and he needed to figure out why he’d never before wanted to crawl inside her the way he did right then. Theoretically, he’d always known that she was soft and warm and pleasant to hold, and it was nice, getting a practical demonstration of that. Still, he was back to the fact that something had changed, and the best way to understand that change was to keep kissing her and noting his reactions. He was so absorbed in his research that it took Catherine pinching him to get him to lift his head.
“Gil?”
“Huh?” Somewhere inside his head, he knew he’d just done something incredibly stupid - crossed a line that should never have been crossed. That same part of his brain also informed him that he probably looked like an idiot at the moment, staring at her with his mouth hanging open. The rest of him, including parts south, suggested that maybe they could finish this experiment elsewhere.
“I think -” She swallowed hard, giving Gil another piece of the puzzle - Catherine felt it, too. Her voice husky, she said, “I think we’ve made our point.”
“What point?” He dipped his head to see if her earlobe tasted as good as it looked.
“Christ.” She leaned into him then took a deliberate step back, ignoring his attempts to hold her close. “Reunion, Gil. Mine. I’m not going to screw this one up, too.”
Her comment was a welcome dash of reality, no matter how embarrassed Gil was that she felt the need to remind him they were in public. “Right. Reunion. I didn’t - they won’t -”
“We should be okay.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, then put her hand on his arm. “Shall we?”
~*~*~
Catherine wore the same smile she used whenever she used to give private shows to whales. It was a smile that told the viewer they were seeing something very intimate and personal, and they really should be happy to pay for the privilege. It was a smile that Catherine could hide behind, and it was a smile that worked reasonably well against Amanda Parker’s thinly veiled attempts to get under her skin.
“So tell me, Cat -” God, she hated that nickname “- where is that charming gentleman you brought with you the last time?”
She was spared the need to answer when she felt Gil’s hand on her shoulder. He gave Catherine her drink and answered Amanda with, “Lindsey’s father was killed in a flash flood a few years ago. It was a devastating loss for her, and the family is still dealing with the void left by his death.” To Catherine, he said, “I know I just got you a drink, sweetheart, but they’re playing our song. Dance with me?”
“Um, yes. Of course.” Catherine put her drink on the table and gave Gil her hand. He took it and led them to the dance floor. She would have preferred to find someplace quiet where the two of them could talk - or whatever - and she was pretty sure Gil felt the same way after that kiss. For now, though, she’d have to settle for dancing.
When they settled into each other’s arms, he said, “I don’t want to be accused of generalizing, but are women always that nasty when they’re socializing?”
She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “No. Sometimes, they’re a lot worse. Your timing was perfect, by the way.”
“Hm.” He held her a little closer. “I’m not leaving you alone like that again tonight. If I get called to a scene, you’re coming with me.”
“It’s not like I don’t have some of this coming.” It was true, she thought, no matter how hard it was to admit that. She’d been a terror in high school, and the way she’d acted at the ten-year reunion was unforgivable.
“They’re out for blood. No one deserves that.”
She shrugged. “No one deserved the way I treated them in high school, either.”
“That was twenty-five years ago, and you’re not the same person. It’s time for them to get over it, don’t you think?”
~*~*~
“I could have sworn someone told me you were an exotic dancer.” The woman, Charlene-something-or-other, spoke with a knowing tone that implied everything.
Never one to mince words, Catherine answered, “I stripped when I was still young enough, but now I work for the Las Vegas Crime Lab.”
“Oh? As a secretary? If you’re looking for a new job -”
Catherine broke in with, “As a crime scene investigator.”
Gil suppressed yet another urge to throw Catherine over his shoulder and leave. Anything had to be better than listening to her classmates get their shots in while they could, and yes, “anything” included her beating him up if he was completely mistaken about the effect they were having on each other. He trailed a finger down her back and maintained an innocent air when she elbowed him in response.
With Catherine proving to be an unhelpful target, Charlene-something turned to him. “So, Mr. Grissom, how -”
“Doctor.” He didn’t normally throw his degree around like that, but two hours of slights and catty comments were bringing out his snotty side.
Charlene-something asked, “Doctor? What type of practice do you have?”
“I have a Ph.D.” His answer was abrupt, and he didn’t bother hiding his boredom at being involved in the conversation.
Catherine stepped on his foot in warning. “Gil is one of America’s top forensic entomologists. He’s the man that other scientists call when they need answers.”
“Oh.” Clearly, Charlene hadn’t expected that. He wondered if she thought he was a plastic surgeon. She probably figured that explained why Catherine looked so much better than most of the women there.
“Yes. Oh.” He gathered Catherine to his side and said in a low voice, “Darling, would you like to dance again?”
~*~*~
They were in a back corner, hiding from the curious eyes. “Are we done here?”
“I guess.” Though she hated how morose she sounded, Catherine couldn’t seem to shake off the funk she’d settled into once they checked in at the party.
Gil lifted her chin with his finger. “We can stay longer if you need to.”
“No. It’s just -”
“No regrets, remember?”
The hell of it was that at the moment, her regrets had nothing to do with her behavior fifteen years ago. Instead, they were centered around the kiss she’d ended earlier. She’d thought she could shake it off, but at odd moments throughout the night, she’d caught herself looking at his lips and remembering how they’d slid against hers.
“You’re right. No regrets.” He smiled slightly, and Catherine pulled his head down so she could kiss him. Though he went still from surprise, it wasn’t long before he was kissing her with as much enthusiasm as he had earlier. Clearly, their earlier reaction hadn’t been a fluke, and she found herself pinching him again to get his attention. “Take me home with you.”
Her order, she was happy to see, didn’t startle him at all. Even better, he didn’t question her. Gil simply said, “Get our coats. I’ll have the car brought up.”
~*~*~
Gil didn’t say anything from the time Catherine suggested they leave until they arrived at his townhouse and were standing in his living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. That’s not what I want.” Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with an intensity that knocked through what few defenses he had left. The kisses they’d shared earlier were just warm-ups for this one, and Gil wanted nothing more than to get them both against a flat surface. He didn’t particularly care if the surface was horizontal or vertical.
He ended the kiss reluctantly, and when she tried to start again, he shook his head. “Either we move to my bedroom now, or it’s going to be up against a wall.”
“Wall could be fun,” she murmured before stepping away. “But I think I’d prefer a little more comfort than that.” When they reached his bedroom, Catherine turned around and smiled as she unknotted his tie. “Gil, did you ever see me strip?”
His mouth dry, he answered, “Yeah. You know I did. Jimmy Tedaro took me to see you right after I moved to Vegas.”
“Did you ever get a lap dance?”
Gil’s brain shorted out a little. He’d wanted one and would have gotten it, too, if Jimmy hadn’t told him Catherine might end up working in the lab one day. “No.”
With a mischievous gleam in her eye, she asked, “Do you want one?”
It was too much. Catherine had to know damn well he wanted one, but there was no way in hell he was going to last if she did that now. In a complicated flurry of motion doomed to failure, he tried to get her dress off as he tried to undress himself while he simultaneously tried to lay claim to every square millimeter of surface inside her mouth.
He gave up when he realized that he’d managed to trap his arms in his jacket and shirt. A bit grumpy, he mumbled, “You don’t have to laugh so hard. It isn’t that funny.”
Catherine caught his face between her hands and kissed him sweetly, almost chastely. “Yes it is. Are you ready to let the expert handle the disrobing?”
Gil’s brain shorted out a little more, especially when Catherine took her sweet time pushing his jacket and shirt the rest of the way off. As she dragged her hands down his chest, breathing became an act of will, a will that was broken when she reached his trousers.
He stared down, waiting for too damn long as she teased at the hook before finally ending the small torture. “Breathe, Gil.”
~*~*~
Had Catherine expected this when she blackmailed Gil into going with her? Maybe not, she thought, but it might have in the back of her head. She didn’t know if she should feel guilty about that or not, and the question itself was swept away when Gil, naked at long last, started working on getting her out of the rest of her clothing.
She was profoundly grateful for the lack of grace that allowed him to tell her point blank to change her dress, because a halter was a damn sight easier to get out of than the monstrosity she’d been wearing earlier. With the skirt already unzipped, the dress fell down as soon as Gil released the hooks at her neck. She felt a little silly, standing there in panties and thigh highs, but Gil’s blatant appreciation of what he saw was enough to dispel the feeling.
Catherine backed up until she felt the bed behind her. Gil, however, didn’t think to stop, and he tumbled them both to the mattress. As he situated them both, she realized that maybe he’d known exactly what he was doing, because he sure as hell knew what he was doing with his hand right then.
She arched into his touch, and her release hit her harder and faster than she would have believed possible. Dazed, she watched as he shifted slightly to reach his nightstand. “The hell?”
He gave her a smug grin, and she planned to slap it off his face - just as soon as she could move again. “It was strongly implied earlier this evening that I don’t know how to treat a date.” Gil leaned down and kissed Catherine a bit more senseless. “I thought you might like to know I’m not that rude all the time.”
“Jesus.” Gil shifted her legs onto the bed and helped her move up and to the center before crawling after her.
He held out the condom. “Can you do the honors?”
Catherine’s hand twitched slightly. “I’d love to, but I’m a little boneless right now.” He smirked. “You can wipe that look off your face any time.”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I really can’t.”
~*~*~
Gil hadn’t had occasion to use a condom in a while, and he was more than a little frustrated at how long it was taking to roll one on. Still, judging by the way Catherine was perking up again, maybe the delay was good. Protection in place, he moved between her legs and took a good long look at her. “Ready?”
She reached up for another kiss and murmured, “More than. Now, Gil.”
He pushed in and moaned as he was enveloped by her tight warmth. For several long seconds, he held himself still as he tried to bring himself back from the brink. If he could just -
Catherine shifted her hips, forcing the issue, and Gil found enough control to go with the motion. He went slowly at first, trying to find and match her rhythm even as he worked to accommodate his own. Moving fast at times, slow at other times, the two of them got to know each other. Gil learned that if he shifted just to the left as he pushed in, he was able to make Catherine squeak. They both learned that if she bit him just so on the neck, it was almost enough to make him completely lose control.
Hanging on wasn’t easy - not that anything to do with Catherine ever was - but he managed to do so long enough to take her over the edge once more before following her. Sated and breathing too heavily for the peace of his ego, he rolled onto his side and asked, “No regrets?”
“Not a one.”
~*~*~
“Damn it, Gil!” Catherine slammed her hand on his desk before continuing with, “I’m telling you there’s something more to his story.”
“And I’m telling you there isn’t!” He wasn’t backing down on this, and Catherine was ready to scream in frustration. “Look at the evidence - it’s all there, including motive.”
“But -!”
“Um, Gil? Catherine?” They turned to look at Greg, and judging by the way he winced, Catherine thought maybe neither of them looked terribly friendly at the moment.
Gil took a deep breath. “Yes, Greg?”
“Just thought you should know - Sara found another print at the scene. It doesn’t match our suspect or victim.” Catherine glanced up in time to see the frown that crossed Gil’s face. “Um. Yeah. I have - something - to process. Later.”
She didn’t say anything after Greg escaped.
Gil finally suggested in a relatively calm tone of voice, “The print could belong to someone who’d been there weeks ago.”
“Or it could belong to an accomplice.”
“Fine.” Clearly irritated, he sat at his desk and moved paper around, refusing to look at her.
She watched him for a long moment before bending down low and whispering, “You’re sexy when you pout, you know that?”
It was enough to make him give her a warning look. “I thought we agreed to keep our relationship out of the office.”
“Can I help it if you pout when you’re wrong?”
He pointed at the door. “Out!”
She sauntered toward it. “We still on after shift?”
“My place. Now leave so I can get some work done.”