Warrick Brown looked and felt like sex. Draped in his usual threads, Diesel jeans and muscle fit buttoned down shirt- top 3 buttons left undone of course- he knew he looked fly.

Catherine Willows was sex appeal defined. It would be unjust to describe it as the typical black cocktail dress. The garment hugged her shape too perfectly. She made it look like couture, simply too good of a fit to be off the rack. The dress stopped inches above her knee, on the corner of tasteful and scandalous. The plunging neckline exposed just enough cleavage to entice *wandering* eyes. The material of the dress was not kind to undergarment lines, thus she opted to go without.

Smooth instrumental R&B vibrated throughout Flirt, a posh lounge just off of the Vegas strip. He guided her to the bar and situated them at the two open seats then proceeded to order their drinks.

"Have you ever faked it?" He ventured dangerously, flashing her a set of pearly whites.

These were the types of questions you weren't supposed to ask your boss. But then not everyone's boss was a former stripper.

"I don't kiss and tell." She answered, sipping her rose colored martini all the while averting his eyes.

"And you don't do coy very well either," he snorted. "Hypothetically, would you?"

"No," she answered defiantly, eliciting a raised eyebrow from him. "Do you think someone's ever faked it with you?"

Warrick looked away, smiling an open mouthed smile. He pretended to be offended. He took a sip of his cognac, savoring the taste on his tongue before swallowing. He turned back to her only to see that her baby blues were still trained on him. Damn those bad boys were intense, he thought. It was unnerving and highly stimulating, having Catherine Willows's full attention.

He cleared his throat, "On the real?"

She nodded and brushed her bangs aside before saying, "Yes, and no hypothetical."

Warrick smirked. It was such a woman's prerogative, changing the rules of the game.

"Hell no." He replied cocking his head to the side.

"You think or you know." She asked, taking another sip of her martini, eyeing him above the rim of the glass.

"I know." He answered, parting his lips slightly and running his tongue against the bottom row of teeth to hide the smile that threatened his credibility.

"Oh really." She drawled, eyes narrowing.

"Really." His eyebrow arched again. "What is that smile all about?"

She shook her head. "Cocky much?" She said, putting emphasis on the word `cocky'.

Warrick threw his head back and laughed a full-bodied laugh.

"It's a thin line between cocky and confidence." He leaned in closer. " Besides, I know what I'm working with. You feel me?"

With their faces inches apart and eyes locked, they were generating more heat than Nevada in July.

Moments passed before they both snorted in unison and chuckled their way out of the predicament.

Warrick took a sip of his drink, observing his boss from the corner of his eye.

"As long as we're keeping it real, Cath. What's the deal with you and Griss?"

Catherine, in mid sip choked on her drink, eliciting a huge grin from Warrick.

"Uh huh. You got that man sprung."

She batted her lashes and swept her bangs away from her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Warrick grinned and rolled his eyes, "Demure is not a good color on you Cath. You don't have to front with me. I know your game."

"Do tell." Propping an elbow on the bar and resting her chin on the palm of her hand, she was intrigued.

"Let me break it down for you. Game," he conceitedly adjusted his collar for emphasis, "recognizes game."

"First, you hit `em with the walk. It's all hips and rhythm with you." He gestures with his hands, almost tempted to mimic her strut until he realized where he was.

"God I wished I'd witness your dancing days." Warrick paused, reminded of the fact that he was talking to his superior, and hesitated before continuing. "He watches you whenever you're in his vicinity. Y'all must have had a thing in the past. There's too much chemistry there for it to be innocent. He would probably kick my ass if he walked in here right now."

Warrick watched as Catherine's eyes got wide, looking over his shoulder. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand and Warrick felt fear creeping up his neck.

"Do not tell me he's here," Warrick started. "Cath, please tell me Gil Grissom is not up in here."

She erupted in laughter, struggling to utter a response. "I would pay to see Gil go to a club on his own. But you should have seen your face."

"Ha ha, very funny. Have you seen how he gets when another man so much as looks at you? I don't want to know what he'd do if he saw us here together and gets the wrong idea." Warrick picked up his drink and brought it to his lips, hoping the alcohol would calm his thumping heart from the momentary scare.

"Oh he knows." She replied casually. Smacking her lips together after reapplying her lip- gloss, she continued. "A girl needs to tell her boyfriend when she's going to have drinks with another male."

She smiled smugly, watching Warrick's jaw drop.

"Whatever amount of money you win from Nicky over this tid bit of information, I want half." She poked him playfully on his chest. "Now take me to the bug man's home before he really kicks your ass for keeping his girlfriend out so late."

end