Catherine was with Gil, stretched out on the couch in his office. Her strong, shapely legs were out in front of her, her feet resting on the arm rest at the opposite end. Her sweaty, spinning head rested on the armrest closet to the door. She was trying to concentrate on the file in her hands and on her lap. Given the circumstances, it was not easy, even for her... It was August 21st in Las Vegas. The air conditioner had gone out in the Crime Lab. This was not a good thing. It was at least 80 inside- even at 2:30 in the morning. Add that to the burning desire she felt for the boyishly handsome man sitting quietly behind his desk doing his best to concentrate on the other half of the notes on the case, and she was quite hot: in every sense of the word... She had peeled down to her skin tight white tank top and was thankful she kept a black skirt in her office for times she was unexpectedly called to court. It was much cooler than the navy flare leg slacks she had on. He had uncharacteristically pulled off his tan, short sleeve button up and was in his plain v neck white tee shirt and black trousers. If the rest of the team had been close by, he wouldn’t have thought to do that. But it made no difference in front of her... Suddenly, he growled and tossed his head back in frustration. His thin, oval framed glasses fell off and he had to catch them in midair to keep them from hitting the floor. She looked over to him, her blue-green eyes flashing lovingly.

"Something bothering you, Gil?" she cooed as she watched him straighten up and perch his glasses back on his nose.

"Yes, this report Greggy gave us..." Her eyebrows arched in pleasant surprise at his actually calling someone other than her by a nickname. Since the surgery and it’s aftermath a month ago, they were more inseparable than they had ever been and he had become a much happier version of the man she had fallen in love with many years ago. He focused again on the report spread before him on his desk, losing himself in the pages, trying to forget how uncomfortable he was. "It should have told us more... I think the heat has damaged the chemicals and machines...."

"No, my love..." she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. She had silently come across the room to stand behind him. She placed her hands on his neck. His temperature rose another hundred degrees at her touch. Her thumbs began to kneed the knot at the base of his skull, releasing the tension that had collected there. "It’s damaging our brains, threatening our sanity and ruining our ability to function. We need to chill out and cool off..."

"How, Cath? It’s hotter than hell in this building and your... hands on my body ... are NOT helping..." he had to break off. A gentle, almost inaudible moan escaped his throat as her nimble, soft, warm hands worked their magic at his temples. "I thought you said we needed to cool off.... All you’re doing is making me hotter..." She giggled and let her hands move into his grey-brown waves. She planted a kiss on the top of his head and then let them trail off down his neck as she moved away. She slid her feet back into the heels she had discarded as she lounged on the couch. He was gripped with an odd sort of fear as he realized she was leaving the room. "Where are you going?" he asked. She turned back around and their eyes immediately met.

"You’ll see ..." she smirked seductively, lowering her head, but not breaking eye contact. He smirked back and relaxed back in the chair, anticipation welled up inside of him.

Somehow, he managed to re-focus on the photograph of the crime scene he had taken. He sighed deeply after a few minutes of staring blankly at the picture. He realized why he had come out if his trance-like mediation: she had returned and was once again standing behind him. He drew in a sharp breath as he felt a chill go down the back of his neck. She was sliding an ice cube around.

"Good idea," he sighed, more out of the pleasure of having her near him again than the relief from the heat the coldness of the ice gave him. He slid his glasses off and sat them on the desk.

"Thought you’d approve," she said, her sultry voice low and in his ear. Once the ice cube had done it’s job and melted in the process, he turned in his chair and gently gripped her waist, swinging her into his lap. They pressed their foreheads together and enjoyed the closeness.

It was her turn. She felt a chill run along her right thigh. He was running an ice cube up and down. She lifted her right leg and draped it over the arm of the chair, effectively spreading her legs. She slid her left leg between both of his. He was being much bolder than she thought he’d be here in the office.

"What are you up to, Gil Grissom?" she teased, purposely choosing those words.

"Nothing ... But if you move an inch one way or the other, I just might be..." he smirked. She bit her bottom lip and flipped a lock of her reddish-blonde hair off her bare shoulder. She pressed her chest against his, defiantly moving much more than an inch. She sighed dreamily as she felt the last of the ice cube melt away. The trickle of water ran down the back of her leg and dripped from the knob on her ankle. His hand lingered on her inner right thigh, their eyes were locked. "I’m glad this is one of those very rare occasions when you are wearing a skirt."

That brazen comment brought a mischievous grin to her beautiful face. "Why?" she asked. She looped her right arm around his neck, entwining her fingers in his soft waves, and put her left hand on his chest.

"It makes it easy to do this," he said, his tenor voice low and inviting, his soft lips brushing her ear as he spoke. His warm, gentle hand slid up her thigh and his fingers began to caress the inner most places of her body. She watched his warm, ice blue eyes flicker with pleasure at touching her. She never thought she’d see a man glow like that for her. She loved him so much, she felt nothing else. It didn’t take long until she was writhing against him, arching herself against his hand.

"I’m glad I closed and locked the door," she managed before a contented moan escaped her lips. He cupped his left hand around her neck to support her and then let his lips trail down her throat to just above her breasts. She took his chin in her left hand, lifted his head and pressed her lips to his at the same instant she gasped his name in release. They kissed deeply as her breathing calmed and he held her close. He smiled in victory as they reluctantly pulled their lips apart. "I’ve created a monster," she smirked, her voice still breathy. He smoothed a lock of her damp hair behind her left ear. Their eyes locked. She was mesmerized by the way he was gazing at her. He had a serious, gentle glow in his eyes.

"No, Cath... You awakened a man..." he said.

She smiled her famous smile, pride and love filling her entire being. She drew his face close to hers and they kissed tenderly. The sentiment was beautiful and wonderful, but she was a woman on a mission to return the favor. Standing up, she offered him both her hands. He took them with a smile. She helped him to his feet. Then she rose on her toes, peered over his shoulder and said, "Close your eyes, Jack... ALL of them," she said, her order directed to the very large, very hairy tarantula who resided in a glass home in the corner of the room. Gil couldn’t help but emit an actual giggle. Then she returned her focus to him.

She took control and walked him over to the couch, holding his right hand in both of hers. She put her hands on his shoulders and eased him down into a sitting position. She took a few steps back. Relying on all her natural sensuality and a few tricks of her old trade, she rolled her hips and raked her hands through her damp hair. She slid her hands down her breasts and across her exposed flat stomach. She stepped out of her shoes and put her hands on her hips. He watched in fascination as her hands disappeared under her skirt. She removed her black panties and kicked them aside. She saw his total surrender and the desire glowing in his eyes. She slid her tongue out and moistened her lips. "You want it, come and get it," she told him tilting her head to the left, wiggling her fingers at her sides. She yelped in glee as he jumped up, reached out and pulled her into his arms.

The next thing she knew she was on her back on the couch and he was gently settling himself on top of her. Both hearts were racing, they were giggling. They felt like teenagers. He pressed his lips to hers. Their tongues engaged in a dance all their own. He kicked off his black leather loafers. Then she pulled her lips away, pushed him off of her and left him in a puzzled heap on the floor. She strutted across the room, grabbed the cup of ice cubes from his desk and turned back around to find him sitting on the floor, back up against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, looking rather amused.

"You could have given me some kind of warning, Catherine," he chided playfully.

"Spontaneity is an incredible aphrodisiac... If I had told you what I was going to do, it wouldn’t have been any fun," she shrugged nonchalantly as she knelt in front of him. She removed a rather small ice cube and frowned. "They’re dying on us, Gil. We’d better use them before we lose them," she reasoned. She crawled over his legs and straddled his lap, her knees pressed to his sides. He rested his elbows on her knees, entwining his fingers in her copper locks. They pressed their foreheads together. He drew in a sharp breath as he felt the chill of the ice cube on his arm. Once the ice cube had dissolved on his skin, she slid her hands between them to undo his black leather belt. He began to run his hands slowly up and down her back. She was so caught up in her task that she didn’t notice he had removed one hand until she felt a chill go up her spine. "Good one," she smirked, relishing the loving warmth his body radiated and relief the ice cube gave her. She achieved her goal and took matters into her own hands. "Your turn..." she said, her sultry voice low and seductive.

He was completely relaxed and ready to allow her to do her bidding. Their faces were so close together, they felt each others warm breaths and their noses brushed with each movement. It was extremely erotic and tender, warm and safe at the same time. Her hands worked their magic and she saw in his eyes, knew by his ragged breathing, that she better take the next step. She pulled away and slid off of his legs, letting her hands trail along body as she did so. She leaned back, resting on her elbows. He eased forward and slid over her, letting his hands glide along her legs and take her skirt with him to her hips. He gently settled on top of her. He cupped his right hand around her neck as he eased her head down to the floor. Their bright eyes were locked.

"It’s your fault if we get caught," she announced matter-of-factly.

"What?!" he gasped in indignance, his eyes twinkling. "How is it MY fault? ... It takes two to tango, my dear..."

"*I* put *MY* ice cube innocently on your neck ... *YOU* put *YOURS* where it didn’t belong..." He arched his eyebrows as was his endearing habit, but was silent in defeat.

"Speaking of putting something where it belongs..." he said after a beat.

She spread her legs. They both moaned in pleasure as he gently slid himself into her. Their eyes locked and they silently agreed to take it slow and easy, savor each second. They began to move as one... He was still learning what this was really all about, the willing student for a change, and she was quite the professor.

...He never wanted this until he met her. The thought of loving and needed and wanting a woman scared him, but she calmed his fears and stirred feelings in him he thought only existed in the books he read. After living through his parents war and what Catherine had to survive, as well as seeing the condition some of their female victims came in as a result of ‘love’, he was very disillusioned... But what they has was real, true, safe, strong and everlasting. Always had been, ever since the instant their eyes met for the first time in the posh club where she danced a lifetime ago...

...Her hands caressed his face that was only an inch from her own. They moved into his hair. Gazing down into her eyes, seeing her beautiful face glowing with love for him, he knew why he had been born: to love and protect and be with her ... She arched up against him and smiled victoriously as she watched his eyes darken. He breathed her name into her mouth in release. He was more beautiful in this unguarded, powerful moment than she had ever seen him. Out of necessity, he pressed his lips to hers and they kissed passionately as his breathing pattern began to return to normal. Her hands moved to caress his back, running up and down, getting lower and lower with each pass. They finally ended up on his backside.

"I will always have a soft spot for your ass," she smirked, her lips brushing softly against his as she spoke, her eyes flashing.

"Why?" he managed.

"Hospital gowns..." she said plainly. She watched his eyes as he registered what she meant. He smiled his adorable crooked grin. His handsome features flushed in embarrassment. She couldn’t help but giggle lovingly at him. He was so sweet and innocent and pure and good.... She was suddenly overcome with an incredible sensation and groaned deeply from her soul... He had pressed strong against her and held it... She arched firmly up against him and breathed his name in release once again. As she calmed, he kissed her neck, lost in her smell.

"You are the best stress relief toy in the whole world," he smirked, tenderly brushing a kiss across her forehead. She smiled and brushed a kiss across his hair.

"Feel better, do you?" she asked. The only response she got was a very contented, long, drawn out sigh as he nuzzled her neck. "Take me out of the box and play with me whenever you want," she smiled. He lifted his head from her neck and their eyes immediately met. He smiled back.

Their pleasantly aching bodies yearned to stay joined together, but after a few more kisses and strokes, he gently slid himself out of her and they began to put themselves in order. In a few minutes, the door was open as it normally was. She was once again lounging on the couch, her hair brushed, and he was seated back behind his desk, glasses on. Almost instantly, he saw it, the answer that cracked the case.

"Cath! Come here," he said. She whipped her head up and practically flew across the room to stand behind him. He pointed to the unfortunate man’s back. She focused in. "The entry wound... It CAN’T have happened as Smith said it did... Amazing what a clear, stimulated mind can see," he said after a second. They slowly turned to each other, wide, satisfied grins on their faces.

"Nice solve," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. They were startled apart by a tremendous groan and then the whir of the air conditioner as it came back to life.

"Magic," he said, gazing at her. She winked at him.