"Fur and loathing in Las Vegas," Grissom muttered, nearly chuckling at his private joke. He caught just a glimpse of Catherine smirking at him in his peripheral vision, her tantalizingly plump lips curled in the most adorable of expressions.

Brass, sitting behind his desk, across from the two senior CSIs, raised his eyebrows at Grissom's joke. "Yeah, well... that's great, Gil. Now we all get the wonderful privilege of doing our paperwork, so, if you don't mind... I'd better get started before another call comes in."

Catherine nodded, and she and Grissom simultaneously rose to their feet, tossing farewells at the captain before heading back to the lab. Moments away from reaching his office at the other end of the government building, Grissom's voice broke through the comfortable silence. "Remember a couple years ago, how you said that you realized what a healthy relationship we have?"

She smiled, lips parting to reveal a dazzling, pearly-white smile. How had he remembered that? "Of course..." she murmured, aquamarine eyes taking in his presence.

"Well... I think now *I've* just realized it." He sighed, reaching for the key to unlock his office, while Catherine stepped up directly behind him, her body heat mingling with his as she hovered mere inches away. "I mean, you and I don't dress up in fuzzy animal costumes to work out our problems..." His voice dropped to a nearly inaudible tone. "Or our sexual frustrations, for that matter."

"You're right," she agreed, and followed him into his office when the door swung open, her eyes still engraining his figure into her mind. "We at least have the gall to confront each other if we're upset with one another..." She watched him move round to the other side of his desk, sitting down with a grunt in his chair before turning his eyes up to hers. She quirked a half-smile. "And as for working out sexual frustrations..."

His eyes bored into her as she sat at the edge of his desk, her curls bouncing against her cheeks as she shifted to face him. Her smirk seemed almost... mischievous. "As far as our sexual frustrations go, Gil, we hide safely behind walls of flirtations..." She shrugged. "Probably waiting for the other to make a more permanent move."

Cobalt and azure fused together, a fierce battle flowing from one set of eyes to the other, the contact never faltering even as Grissom rose to his feet and ventured to the other side of the desk. The pair stared at one another, Catherine's last words being carefully considered and contemplated by both... each waiting in limbo for the other to make the move.

After what seemed like hours, Grissom broke their stare and shyly glanced away, just a hint of a blush tinging his bronzed cheeks. "Well, uh... shall we start our paperwork?"

Catherine shook her head, pressing her palms to the steel coolness of his desktop, pushing herself to a standing position. "Nah, I think we should procrastinate as much as possible with that." She shrugged. "Besides... I'm in no mood to dive back in and review all the weirdness." She once again caught his eyes, searching each as her lips slowly parted into a smile. "I'm in the mood for a bit of normalcy."

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips... an activity for which, unbeknownst to him, Catherine was a captive audience... and he rose to his feet, moving toward the door. "Sounds good... sounds good."

She watched as his eyes flicked toward the door, then back to her, and she merely raised an eyebrow, refusing to leave her current post as the obstacle separating him from the exit... her eyes imploring him to break down one of their walls. His eyes twitched briefly narrow, studying her like a piece of evidence, contemplating her expression. Finally, realization dawned within the cerulean depths and he straightened slightly, searching her eyes for affirmation of his assumptions.

She answered his query with a tilt of the head, sun-kissed strawberry-blonde curls cascading forward against her downward-tilted cheek, the minutest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth. As he drew in a breath, she did too... simply by mental connection... before straightening, knowing she was seconds away from hearing his heavenly tenor voice.

"Let me make you breakfast, Catherine..." he murmured... deep, low, and almost seductive.

Her lips parted into another dazzling grin, not just at his request; but at the knowledge that the walls could, very well, be on their way to coming down. She turned wordlessly for the door and he followed her out, his eyes intensely roaming her curves while he was blindly led toward the parking lot. On their way past the breakroom, she turned ever-so-briefly over her shoulder and questioned in a husky voice, "Your place or mine?"

He couldn't help but smile, and reach his hand up to the small of her back... fingers indulging themselves in tickling the base of her spine as his lips inched toward her ear. "Mine."

A sharp intake of breath emanated from the strawberry-blonde as soon as he touched her, and she made a vain attempt at masking the lust in her tone... her voice shaky as she replied, "Sounds good."

And as they headed for the parking lot, neither noticed the spikey-haired inhabitant of the breakroom, cleaning up the coffee he'd just expirated in shock.

*****

The drive to his townhouse, though quiet and riddled with sexual tension, was very comfortable, both feeling a state of normalcy once more set in amongst all the earlier chaos. "Well..." His voice broke the silence as he led her to his door, unlocking it and gallantly gesturing for her to enter first. "What would you like, this morning?" He quirked an eyebrow, his eyes tracing down her spine and beyond as she headed straight for his kitchen. "A screwdriver, perhaps?"

She hid a smile, already in the process of reaching into his liquor cabinet for the vodka he kept around especially for her. "You know me so well."

"Too well, it seems," he replied, a smirk dancing across his boyish features. Leaning a palm on the counter, his other hand found his pocket, dipping inside while he shuffled his feet. "So, what would you like for breakfast? Aside from an alcoholic beverage, of course..."

"I dunno," she sighed, reaching into his refrigerator for the carton of orange juice before pulling a glass down from the cupboard. "Whatever you feel like making, I guess."

He tilted his head slowly to opposite sides each time he rattled off a choice. "Omelettes, pancakes, Belgian waffles, crepes, bacon and eggs..."

She smiled, mixing and stirring her concoction. "My stomach gets kinda poochy after I eat bacon, so... how about pancakes?"

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly toward the ceiling... his companion thankfully missing this... before he walked to her, stepping up behind her. "Cath, you've gotta stop that kinda talk," he murmured into her ear, eyes dancing with mischief as he watched her sip her drink.

When his hands snaked their way around her waist, sliding across her stomach and coming in contact with bare skin as they did so... she jumped... a splash of vodka-laced orange juice hitting the counter. Her criminalist's eyes watched the drop create cast-off droplets on the faux-marble countertop, her brain willing her wildly thudding heart to calm. His rich tenor once more invaded her concentration. "You're in fantastic condition, and you know you are."

She felt his smirk, and fought not to press herself back against him as he spoke again. "You're the best-looking forty-three-year-old I know."

"Hey!" She spun in his arms, pointing a rigid finger at him sternly while his hands sliding to her hips unleashed the butterflies. "I am forty-TWO!" She shook her head. "It's not March yet... don't give me that forty-three crap yet, bucko."

He bit his lip to prevent the laughter he felt bubbling up inside, and instead removed his hands from her tantalizingly soft hips, holding them up in surrender as he took a step back. "Forgive me..." he murmured, though his eyes still held a sparkle of mischief.

Her eyes twitched into a facetious glare briefly before she relinquished her control over the grin itching to spread across her face. "Already have," she whispered, and her eyes caressed his image as he made for the refrigerator, extracting the ingredients for their pancakes.

For the duration of the meal's cooking time, Catherine sat perched on his counter, lovingly watching him move back and forth from mixing bowl to griddle, slowly creating two stacks of pancakes for each of them to enjoy. Then, upon running out of batter, he turned off the stove and deposited the dirty dishes in the sink while instructing Catherine to take a seat... telling her strictly that he would bring her plate to her.

"Pushy," she muttered with a sly grin, dropping into a chair at his small dining room table.

He chuckled, grabbing first the butter out of the fridge before pulling the syrup down out of the cupboard, loading them into his arms while balancing the plates in his hands, bringing everything over to the table. "Well excuse me for wanting to practice a little chivalry."

She gazed at him in a mixture of affection and amazement. "You're a dying breed, y'know that, Gil?"

"Not just a dying breed," he quipped good-naturedly, taking a seat beside her before applying a generous amount of syrup to his tower of pancakes. He glanced up at her, a smile written both plainly across his face and inside his deep blue eyes. "I'm its last living member."

Both eyebrows twitched upward briefly on Catherine's forehead as she brought her glass toward her lips, muttering, "Don't I know that."

They chatted amicably through the meal, talking about everything but the slowly-skyrocketing sexual tension mounting between them. Catherine discussed certain things Lindsey was learning in school... the school play that was coming up... and throwing out the occasional gripe about not being able to spend enough time with her. Grissom added things where he could, but mostly remained an intent listener... just content to spend so much time listening to the sound of Catherine's voice.

In the midst of a complaint about something at work, Catherine was interrupted by Grissom's sudden change of expression. He seemed to be staring intently at a spot near her mouth, his eyes slightly narrowed. She cocked her head slightly, eyeing him warily. "What?" she asked slowly, drawing out the word... her voice laced with suspicion.

He shook his head slightly as if coming out of a trance, straightening up from leaning an elbow on the table. "I'm sorry, you just..." He cleared his throat, and Catherine was unsure whether it was out of nervousness, or something else. "You have some syrup on your face."

Her eyebrows raised in realization, and she nodded slowly. "Oh! Oops... where?"

He chuckled, watching her fingers flutter around her face, searching for the spot... and after a few seconds he leaned forward, finger outstretched. "Here..."

The pad of his finger made contact just outside the corner of her mouth, and she sucked in a breath, his touch sending shivers down her spine... her eyes slipping shut as a result. After a moment, she felt his finger move away, and she slowly opened her eyes. He smiled into the aqua hues. "There... got it."

Desire stirred, she reached out and grabbed Grissom's retreating hand, bringing his still-extended finger to her lips and sucking it into her mouth. Her eyes glinted mischievously when she heard him gasp, his mouth dropping open in shock seconds later. She twirled her tongue around his digit, having already gotten all the syrup off. Now it was just about torture... getting him to snap.

When he yanked his finger out of her mouth, surprise and a hint of lust visible in his eyes, Catherine smiled, almost triumphantly. Shrugging coyly, she drawled, "I'm greedy with my syrup."

His gaze dropped ever-so-quickly to his lap, and the now very evident bulge straining against his black denim jeans, before he met her eyes. "Guess so," he whispered.

When she merely grinned and licked her lips seductively in response, he shot to his feet, nervously wiping his sweat-soaked palms before grabbing their plates and heading to the sink. "Uh, so, dishes? I should do the dishes. Can't have 'em sitting in the sink, getting all... uh..." His eyes slipped shut as he relived the feel of Catherine's warm mouth sucking on his finger, tongue twirling to get the last of the syrup off. "Getting all..." His erection twitched against his now painfully-confining jeans as he cocked his head, getting one last image of the syrup-encounter. "Sticky..."

Catherine's mouth parted into a huge Cheshire grin as she watched him nervously flutter around near the sink. That enormous bulge at the front of his pants hadn't escaped her. She slowly rose to her feet. [[Surely that has to be uncomfortable for him]] she mused, sauntering over to him quietly... stealthily.

She paused when she hovered just inches away from him... her chest nearly pressing against his back. She slowly raised herself up on tiptoe, guiding her hands to his hips... and when he dropped the dishes into the sink with a loud crash, she smiled. Raising her lips to his ear, she kissed the lobe ever-so-softly... barely a touch... before she breathed seductively, "Gil..."

Another clatter of dishes sounded when her lips touched his ear, then after hearing his name, he sputtered a hurried, "What? What? Are there more dishes?"

She couldn't help but chuckle softly... inaudibly... her breath hitting his ear inciting a shudder. "No, Gil. No more dishes."

Lowering herself back down to her normal height, her eyes drifted to her hands, tickling up and down his sides before sliding around front, tripping upwards to caress his chest through his button-down shirt. "Gil..." she murmured again, loving the feel of his name on her lips. "Now that we've had a nice breakfast, I think it's time I answer your earlier question." She pressed a kiss to his right shoulder through his shirt before stretching up to nip playfully at the back of his neck... and he groaned in response.

"Wh-what question would that be, Catherine?" he asked shakily, his breath coming in staccato gasps while his hands grasped the counter... knuckles turning white as he grasped for any last thread of self control.

She smiled, her eyes catching sight of his pasty-white knuckles... and she decided she'd tortured him enough. Sliding her hands quickly down his chest, she brought her lips once more to his ear as she cupped his arousal, giving it a squeeze as she whispered, "'Just what is normal sex?'"

"Oh God, Cath..." His hips bucked into her ministrations, his hands flying away from the counter to reach behind him, grasping for her... pulling her tight to his body while she continued to stroke him through his pants. The thick denim did nothing to enhance the sensations of her hands on him, so with an aroused growl, he spun around and grasped her hips... slamming her against the refrigerator.

His eyes dove intensely into hers while she just calmly allowed him to keep her pinned to the fridge... a smile curling her lips. "I take it you're REALLY wanting to know what normal sex is?"

He just moaned, bringing his lips to her neck while his hands made quick work of her pants and panties. She gasped at the sensation briefly, before melting into a smirk. "I've gotta warn you, Gil... sex against a fridge isn't what most would consider 'normal.'"

"I don't care about normal sex," he growled, pulling her shirt roughly over her head... eyes twinkling in a mixture of lust and mischief. "You can show me normal sex later." He shook his head. "I just have to have you right now or my head will explode."

She threw a coy glance to the bulge in his pants before meeting his eyes once more. "Which hea--"

"Cath!"

She grinned her dazzling, pearly grin at him in response before leaning forward... capturing his lips with hers for the very first time, while her hands continued working on divesting him of his pants. He moaned against her lips, his hand gliding up her body to rest against the silken waves of strawberry-blonde hair cascading around her face... his tongue flirting with her lips. With a gasp, she allowed him entrance, and he tasted her hungrily, pressing himself tighter against her when his pants fell to his ankles.

When she rubbed herself brazenly against his arousal, he groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking against hers before his fingers found her center, testing her own arousal. Upon feeling his fingers against her in such an intimate way, her eyes snapped shut. "Oh God Gil, I need you... now!" She quickly grasped the waistband of his boxers and shoved them past his hips, pulling him tight to her once more as they fell to his ankles, resting in a pool with his pants.

His lips then captured hers once more as his hands found her buttocks, squeezing firmly and lifting her... tilting her hips as he thrust up into her. She cried out and threw her head back at the sensation, banging her head on the refrigerator door, but not caring in the slightest. Her hands moved to his shoulders, pulling his upper body closer while their lower bodies continued their erotic tango.

While she whimpered each time he'd thrust into her, he brought his lips to her ear. "You are so wet, Cath... so tight," he whispered, pulling out of her depths... then groaning as he slid slowly back inside, panting, "I can't get enough of you."

It was these six words that catapulted Catherine over the edge, sending her spiralling toward bliss... pulsing around him once more before her muscles clenched, her entire body shaking against his. He stilled inside her, kisses peppering her neck and shoulders while he waited for her to calm... her eyes raising to meet his, along with that dazzling grin, acting as his indication that she was back.

She kissed his lips soundly... erotically... her tongue darting out to taste his for a split-second before she pulled back, gazing into the cyan depths of his eyes once more. And, as a mischievous glint shimmered in her own eyes, she tensed her muscles around him, hugging him from within.

His mouth dropped in a silent groan as he stared into her eyes, questioning her with the blues. She merely smiled and nodded, grasping his shoulders as she wound her legs around his waist, whispering, "Please... continue."

With a groan of thanks, he squeezed her buttocks gently before resuming his erotic rhythm, the seas of his eyes consuming her... the passion in them ascending her toward a crest once more. She rolled her hips and rocked against him desperately... aching for another release... and, taking the hint, he sped up his thrusts.

"Gil..." she panted, holding his gaze... "I love you."

And for Gil, these three words were what sent him over the edge, his rhythm faltering as he tensed and shuddered, spilling inside her as she came with him. Then, the lovers sank slowly to the floor... urges temporarily sated, and bodies utterly exhausted. "I love you too," he breathed, kissing her lips tenderly... smirking at her when he pulled away.

"Well..." she sighed breathlessly, threading her fingers through his damp salt-and-pepper curls while he planted kisses on her sweat-dusted chest. "Shall we attempt for some 'normal' sex this next round?"

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he slowly shook his head, and then shrugged. "What's the point? Nothing about us has ever been 'normal.'"

She pondered this notion for a split-second. "Hmm..." Then, grinning, she pulled his head away from her chest, "You may have a point there!" and pinned him to the floor... stirring both their desires once again.

~FINIS~