:: :: Arrive as a couple :: ::

The dark blue Tahoe braked in a parking space near the entrance of the Las Vegas crime lab. Exiting were Catherine Willows and Gil Grissom, who both quickly scanned the parking lot before spilling their oblivious shadows upon the black pavement. Above them a few stars sparkled in their midst, though not many visible because of the Vegas lights.

"This is too suspicious, Gil. Third week now, and we've come to work together," whispered Catherine as they rounded the SUV to extract their supplies for work.

"I'm sure no one has noticed. Besides, the shift starts in literally two hours," he prompted her with a smirk, "and I'm sure that the kids aren't hanging around, spying on us."

"Right." She rolled her blue eyes and peered at him through her long lashes. "But what if..."

"Catherine," Grissom scolded.

"Sorry."

The two made way to the entrance, putting into practice their usual routine.

Grissom first entered into the building, feeling the blast of air conditioning splash his face and cool off all rolls of sweat that had conquered his brow. He went on with his usual activities—signing in, dropping his work off at his office—while Catherine casually found the unmarked Denali out back, and drove it around front in the parking spot next to Gil's. She gathered the rest of her supplies from the back of the SUV and headed into the building.

"Good evening, Gil," she said, standing side by side with him at the desk. A blank expression appeared over her face as she stamped in and checked over the files the secretary had handed her.

"Good evening, Catherine," he answered.

The two paused for a moment, which was barely visible to the naked eye, and exchanged glances, before each going their separate ways with a new activity at hand.

Four hours had passed—four, dead hours with nothing but damn paperwork. The two remained across the hall from each other within their offices. Of course, with the other CSI's arrivals a couple hours ago, there was no more contact; no more emotions that could blow their cover.

Until 4AM came.

:: :: No affairs :: ::

Catherine had been reviewing an autopsy with Doctor Robbins in the morgue when the beeping of her watch told her the latest hour. She quickly gathered some excuse to the coroner of her soon-to-be absense, rushed out of the corpse infested room, and rushed down the hall, just in time to meet Grissom at the door of his office. He hastily gestured her inside with the motion of his arm and followed her in, closing and locking the door behind him.

"You made it." He smiled.

"I always do." She smiled back.

It was a few moments of just staring at each other that passed by before Catherine collapsed into his arms and crashed her lips against his. They shared a deep and passionate kiss—tongues entangled and lips swollen—before his hands found their way under her shirt.

She jumped.

"Gil!"

"What?" he asked, caressing her assets.

"Part C was yesterday. Today's Part D, remember?" she said, releasing from his grasp and pointing in a downward motion.

"Oh, yeah." He scratched his head and smiled. "And tomorrow— Saturday—is the day," Grissom continued, that ever-growing smile forming into the curl of a smirk.

"Yeah. The day," Catherine agreed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands formed around her butt and lifted her onto the ledge of his desk. His fingers quickly moved her fly and buttons.

"Part D," he murmured. His fingers found her core immediately, and he began pushing her to her limit.

"Part D," she repeated, her head resting against his shoulder.

But both of them found themselves glancing at the clock. 4:11. Considering it was Friday, they had fourteen minutes left; that was a sigh of relief compared to yesterday's twenty-five minute limit, which was paradise in contrast with Monday's five minutes...

When she came, he held her steady, kissing away all trembling that was released within her body.

"Five minutes," she whispered into his ear. "Your turn?"

"My turn."

The next three minutes—which came by surprisingly fast in more ways than one—were enjoyable for Gil and Catherine alike. And when the next two minutes were spent strictly making out (Part A and B...mostly a backup plan in most cases), both of them felt oblivious to the world of crime.

That's when the beeper went off.

"Shit," Catherine cursed, rolling her eyes as Gil stood up and reached for the alarm clock on his desk.

"There's always tomorrow," he said encouragingly.

"What about after shift?" she whined.

Grissom sighed and shook his head. "...that would be breaking the rules."

"Screw the rule, Gil."

"Sorry, Catherine. But if were screwed that rule, we'd have to screw them all, as well. And you know where that would take us," he explained in a knowing voice.

"You're right. Well, time is officially up, and I have to finish a date with the coroner," Catherine said, straightening out her clothing, as well as her strawberry blond hair.

"A date, my dear?" Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's just a little stand," she said, resting her elbows on his desk and grinning from ear to ear.

"You know that that is against the rules, unless the doctor would like to join our...swap..." he began.

"So I guess I have to call the, uh, affair off?" asked Catherine in a childish voice, playing along.

"Yeah. And don't worry, I'll cancel all dinner plans I had with Sara," he said, smiling. "So no hard feelings, honey?"

"No hard feelings."

She sent him a look over her shoulder and exited out of his office, looking as casual as ever as she passed by Nick and Warrick in the hallway. Grissom also left his office at approximately two minutes later (so he wasn't obvious) and brushed by Sara on the way. She hadn't even sent him a funny look this time; he'd remembered to check for makeup smudges on his face, and had added it to his routine during the first week. Thankfully. Finally some cases had been called in, and the end of shift nearing, all the CSIs were working hard to wrap them up. Pulling into a double shift would be dread and mean two things: "Plan B" and maxing out on overtime.

Plan B was simple as much as it was complex. If they weren't excused from the lab at eight o' clock in the morning, they'd continue on with their work. If one got done with the extra(s) shift before the other, Catherine would drive her Denali home, and Gil would take his Tahoe, instead of the both of them leaving together. That was one exception that they'd learned to make.

:: :: No videos, no photos :: ::

"Hey," she said, a towel wrapped around her and steam rising about her ankles.

Gil took a step back and let his eyes roam her body. "You take a shower?"

"No, I'm just all wet...for you," she managed with a smirk, rolling her eyes. "Of course I took a shower!"

"Well, I-I was just making s-sure." This was the one woman who could make him loose his cool.

"Right." She smirked and let the towel fall to the floor, gathering up her clothes from her locker and slowly putting them on, teasing him all the way.

"This is tortue."

"I know. You want to break a rule, Gil?" she asked with a smile that he would have given anything to own between his two lips.

"Catherine, no...I haven't broken a rule for one week, and I'm proud of it. But maybe we should talk about you. So sexy," he said wtih a wink, pulling out a camera out of his locker just as she was slipping on her panties.

"Uh, Gil. Now that will be breaking a rule, if you don't set that camera down...right now!" she shrieked. "Oh, god...I'm so ugly right now anyway. No makeup, my hair's a mess—just please, Gil! No!"

He sighed and put the camera down. "I could've submitted that to Playboy, Cath, and no one would've known it." He really was half- joking, but she was just trying to find that touch of humor in his voice...somewhere...

"Let's just change the subject," she prompted. "Maybe you should get out of here, Gil, before someone gets suspicious that the door is locked and we're the only ones in here?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I think you're right. Okay, I'll see you later," he agreed, taking one last chance to admire her body as she clasped her bra.

"See you," she mumbled with a smile as he quickly slid out of the room.

:: :: And the kids must never find out :: ::

The double shift was going by slower then ever, but thankfully they were both working the same shift (privledges of Grissom being supervisor).

It was nearly 9:00 and Vegas shops were just being opened for the daytime enjoyment. Traffic was even slow, and there was still a bit of coolness in the air, considering that the sun was just peaking over the horizon. But come ten o' clock—it'd be another scorcher.

"So," said Sara, measuring a shoe print found at the scene. "All we have to do is compare this to our suspect's shoe and hopefully get a match.

"Yeah, and then we can go home and...sleep," Catherine said with a yawn.

"Actually you can't, Cath." Grissom looked at her surprised expression. "Sorry, but Vega just called with a case. I thought you'd be the right CSI. I was going to wait to fill you in until we were finished processing this crime..."

"Damn it. But what about our..." She stopped, dead, Sara and Grissom both staring at her. "Plan A," she whispered, only to Grissom.

Except Sara had heard it, as well. "What the hell is Plan A? Pack up and go home to catch a few hours of sleep?" She grinned through the gap in her teeth.

"Yeah," Grissom said, nodding. When Sara shrugged and turned away to gather the remaining evidence, Grissom and Catherine exchanged a few "close call" glances.

`Just pack up and go home to catch a few hours of sleep' had now officially been medaphored as "Plan A." Now what if "Plan B" slipped out too?

:: :: Leave together :: ::

"Hey, I thought you went home hours ago. Or is already next shift?" Catherine asked through a weary tone and heavy lids as Grissom entered into the AV lab.

"I came to check up on you. Sorry I had to lay this case on you like that, but it's a necessary thing. You can't just save it for later, you know?" He asked, smiling but getting nothing but a blank expression in return. Her gaze yet remained on the computer screen as she sorted through the stills from the convenience store.

"Archie out?"

"Yeah."

"I see." He sighed and glanced at the clock: 2PM. "Eyes dead?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I see."

This was the first reponse he'd gotten, as she looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Not so p-u-n-n-y, Gil," she said dully.

"Well, my eyes are awake right now, just looking at you," Grissom told her with nothing but longing in his voice.

"It's not four yet," she said as his lips found her neck—Part B.

"It doesn't matter," he breathed, "your shift ends...now."

"What?" She pulled back from him and saw his bottom lip curl up in a smile, which only made desire wave through her body.

"Warrick and Nick are taking over the case. And we are going home."

"No..."

"Yes," he corrected her. "Come on, Cath. Get your stuff together and we're out of here."

"But isn't that technically breaking the rules?"

"Screw the rules. I need you. Now." He was already saving the files she'd been studying and had begun guiding her out of the lab and to the exit.

"My stuff..."

"Is in the Tahoe, and some of it's in the Denali for next shift," he explained.

"Right. Hey, Gil?" she asked, approaching the Tahoe.

"Yeah?"

"You know that four o' clock rule?"

"Yeah?"

"Screw that one too."

"Yeah. We're doing that right now, Cath."

"Uh huh, but you better pull over."

"Yup."

"Oh, and Gil?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that Part A/B/C/D rule?"

"Screwed."

:: :: The End :: ::