Previously on CSI......

....Grinning I glance into the take away bag still clutched tightly to my side and start towards the door wondering what he'd do for half a coke and a handful of fries.

********************

********************

I am definitely a butt girl.

The sexiest part of a guy is his butt...well almost the sexiest part.

I hate it when a guy has a huge saggy butt, or worse still, doesn't even have a butt. My ex-husband Eddie was like that. No butt whatsoever. He was shaped like a ruler. One straight line. All the way from his hairy back, over his flat pimply ass, to the backs of his scrawny legs. I'm serious. A person could walk all the way from his shoulder blades down to his calves in 6 inch high heels and be perfectly balanced (and I know a few people who would volunteer).

Gil has a great butt. It's perfectly moulded. I haven't done a test or anything, but each cheek looks to be about the size of a hand ...my hand. Coincidence? I think not! And it's rounded enough that you can see the definition through his jeans. He's not wearing jeans today, but he is wearing these black pants that hug his butt just right, so that when he's leaning forward, the fabric pulls tightly across his posterior and makes his cheeks look like ripe cantaloupes. And as I stand in his doorway watching him lean across his desk for a file, I'm finding it difficult not to leap across the room and grab me a cantaloupe.

I can feel the saliva pool in my mouth and I start to worry that I'm drooling. The he turns and I'm no longer looking at his butt, but I KNOW I'm drooling. Coming or going baby you are one fine piece of man. Yowza.

"Cath?"

I hear his amused tone and I know he's caught me ogling him, but it's hard to care when you're this aroused. I slowly drag my eyes up his body until I meet his delighted smirk and twinkling blue eyes.

"Are you gonna eat that?"

Huh? Is that a trick question? I'm pretty sure I just licked my lips as my eyes dart back down his front, straying there a moment, before coming back to meet his eyes. He looks like he's desperately trying not to laugh before he says in a mock indignant tone.

"I meant your fries!"

Fries? My eyes leave his and I glance at my clenched left hand that still holds a paper bag adorned with a big golden M. Whoops. I can feel my light skin blushing wildly, and because he's started to laugh at my blunder I decide he's not allowed any of my fries.

"Yep. And you can't have any!"

He starts moving towards me as I reach into the bag and I pull one out and eat it before he can get to me. And as I place another between my teeth, I grin at his suddenly pouting lips. But before I can push the fry fully into my mouth though, he snatches my hand away and leans in quickly to grab the end that is still suspended against my lips with his mouth. I feel his full lips move against mine as his teeth bite down and I gasp softly. My mouth parts just enough for Gil to quickly pull the rest past his lips and move away with a smug look on his face. I stand there staring at him with my jaw slack before I take a step closer smiling seductively and place another fry between my teeth.

Gil grins and lifts his hand to slide his fingers across my jaw. I drop the paper bag I'm holding and lean into his chest, placing one hand over his heart for balance, and watch as he dips his head slowly towards me.

"Whoa! Sorry guys."

Gil stops his downward journey when he hears Brass rush through the open doorway. He doesn't move away though and his lips stay hovering over mine.

"Gil? Cath?"

I pull the fry into my mouth with my tongue and watch as Gil's eyes darken dramatically. As my tongue darts out again to sweep the salt away from my lips I hear him groan quietly and I start having problems swallowing.

"Guys?"

Gil slowly pulls back and glares over my shoulder at the Homicide Detective.

I draw my hands away from his chest and turn around to face the intruder. He looks amused and more than a little pleased with himself. I happen to know that there's a betting pool involving Gil and myself that's been going through the office and that anyone who can add to the gossip with first hand knowledge of any type is given almost god like status in the lab. Last month when Greg walked in on Gil and I in the change rooms he was sent a basket of muffins from the guys in Ballistics. Never mind that all we were doing was sitting on a bench talking. Anything that could be remotely construed as romantic is reported to the ladies at the front desk and immediately circulated throughout the rest of the lab. Just the thought of Brass getting a basket of muffins for interrupting Gil and I is enough to make my toes curl. As far as I'm concerned...If I ain't gettin any, neither is he! So I inform him in my most prim voice.

"Just rehearsing for the 'Annual Las Vegas Emergency Services Talent Show' Jim."

He looks decidedly disbelieving, but I don't care because my good mood is back. The reason I'm having such a great day is because of tonight's festivities. I don't even care that I had to come in on my night off. How can I not be happy? The Clark County Fire Department is performing, on behalf of all the fire departments in Las Vegas, a musical medley from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the State Troopers are sending a Sergeant that moonlights as a Magician AND a guy that balances spinning plates on sticks, the LVPD is doing Shakespeare and even better...they volunteered an unwilling Brass for a part in their play. The best segment though will be from our very own crime lab. Gil and I are the leads in a play written by Greg and the other Lab Techs called 'Crime of Passion' and the show starts in about an hour. It's supposed to be a parody of all those day time soap operas except that it's set in a crime lab.

I was originally set to star across from young Archie, but when he found out that the two leads share a kiss at the end, he backed out. Usually I would have been insulted, but rumour has it that Gil followed the young A/V technician into the staff room and some 7 minutes later Archie had stepped down from the role. Gil, being a true team player, set aside his own misgivings about performing in public and joined the cast. Heh! Neither of us have actually rehearsed the play, as a matter of fact neither one of us has a copy of the script, we only know that there's a kiss at the end between the two leads and that one of the scenes is set in a room that looks a lot like Gil's office.

"Rehearsing? Uh huh, sure, what COULD have I been thinking? We're all out the front ready to leave, are you guys coming or are you gonna...rehearse...some more?"

********************

Okay I'll admit it. I'm nervous. Don't get me wrong the other acts have all been equally horrendous, and I have no doubt that even if Gil and I both fell from the stage we still wouldn't be as bad as some of the guys out there.

The Sergeant that moonlights as a magician didn't get one trick right his entire act and even managed to spill milk across the stage when he tried his signature trick. It wouldn't have been so bad, but then one of the fire fighters doing their rendition of Sweet Transvestite, panties and garters included, slipped and went ass over tea kettle knocking out an entire row of cross dressing fire fighters. Not too mention the plate spinner. The plate spinning, I get. The plate spinning on sticks, I get. The plate spinning on sticks wearing nothing but a loin cloth? That was just weird, and it all sorta went down hill once his loin cloth came undone mid spin and he spent a frantic few minutes running from one end of the stage to the other ass cheeks flapping in the breeze trying to catch 15 or so pieces of his best china!

The hit of the night so far though, would HAVE to be Brass's inventive translation of Shakespeare. He had ONE line and he still managed to screw it up. ONE LINE!! All he had to do was walk onto the stage and yell, "Hark! A pistol shot" and then leave the stage. He was standing back stage white as a sheet as he listened in the wings waiting for the signal. Mumbling under his breath over and over, 'Hark! A pistol shot. Hark! A pistol shot'.

He wandered onto the stage on his cue and screamed out....."Hark! a shistol pot, a postle shiss, a pot of shit, horse shit, cow shit, bull shit....I never wanted to be in this lousy play anyway.........then rushed off the stage yelling the entire way.

And so now I'm waiting back stage for the juggling Paramedics to put down their flaming batons and finish up. They're good unfortunately, not a singed eyebrow amongst the lot. Which is ticking off everyone backstage. They win the award every year with their crappy juggling act, and everybody is hoping for an upset this year. Especially me! Ever since I heard one of them ask Gil out last year, I've had a personal vendetta against the whole lot of them. And where is Gil?? If he's backed out I swear I'll kill him. Right after I kill Greg of course. Exactly what sort of play requires me to dress in a short satin robe is what I wanna know? AND I still don't have the script AND I'm due on stage in less than 5 minutes. One of the girls from the front desk is primping my hair with her THIRD can of hair spray, trying either to make a 3 foot high hair statue, or exorcise a demon living in my red tresses. I'm starting to hyperventilate when I hear Gil yell.

"Are you crazy? I'm not doing it and you can't make me!"

I can feel my eye start to twitch while I listen to Gil trying to back out of the play and I turn to give him a piece of my mind when I spot him standing next to Greg off to the side. Gesticulating wildly. Wearing nothing...but a towel. Eep. My eye stops twitching but my drooling problem returns with a vengeance when I see his broad, slightly furred chest in all its naked glory not more than three metres away. Grrrrrr. I can see my hair stylist backing away fearfully, clutching her can of hair spray to her chest, and I realise I may have just growled out loud. No time to worry about that though. Not when there's a half naked Gil standing so close.

My mouth is wide and I'm panting loudly as I hear Greg trying to calm him down, telling him that it's an integral part of the story. They're slowly walking towards me and as Gil gets closer and closer, I start hyperventilating again. Then when he sees me standing at the edge of the stage and his eyes run over my very short, very sheer, white satin robe, I stop breathing altogether. I can see Greg out the corner of my eye grinning like a fool. And just as Gil and I both start to turn to him he thrusts the scripts into our hands and shoves us both onto the now vacant stage yelling 'Good Luck'.

We both turn, standing open-mouthed in shock, to the large applauding crowd welcoming our act to the stage. I stare at the closed script in my hands then let my eyes run up Gil, all the way from his loosely knotted towel, past his tanned naked chest, into his horrified gaze and swallow deeply. Oh boy. And as the announcer presents us to the audience I can't help but think that maybe the naked plate spinner was the lucky one. At least when his loin cloth slipped off it was completely accidental. A freak occurrence. I fear that when I jump Gil centre stage and tear the towel from his tempting body, they might not believe my plea of innocence. I know one thing for certain though...we'd win the coveted award for Most Talented Emergency Service Team in Las Vegas. And as I stalk towards Gil grinning manically at his startled expression all I can think is...Screw you baton twirling paramedics, Gil and I are taking home the Gold. Yee Ha!!

*******************************

The End :)