Summary: Grissom comes to Lady Heather's Dominion for some penance.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or the characters.

Rating: T+ for slight violence.

Pairing: Grissom and Lady Heather.

PENNANCE:

Grissom drove like he never had before, way over the speed limit. He had to get to her. He had to see her. He had to make amends for what he had done all those months ago. Why had it taken him so long to try again? Heather had told him to go. He went and never game back. Until tonight. He was going to show up at her Dominion and offer to do penance in the only way she understood. Grissom pulled his Tahoe into the parking lot and waited. Too many people could not be witness to his act of apology. Heather didn't want words. He knew how she would feel about actions. Getting out of his sedan he walked with sure footed purpose to the door and knocked waiting. Grissom was about to lose his nerve when the door opened and there she was. Heather stood before him ever the temptress of his dreams. "Lady Heather."

"Mr. Grissom." Heather wasn't sure how to react, so she showed no emotion. She was happy that he was here, but she didn't know why. A while ago she had asked him to leave and he had obeyed. Now he was back with a determined look on his face. Maybe he finally figured out where he wanted to stand with her. "What are you doing here?" she asked pulling around her the air that he was just another visitor to her dungeon. He was anything but that though. Standing before her was a determined Gil Grissom to do something she had yet to figure out.

Grissom leaned in close to her knowing that he was breaking the rules. Just another thing that he would have to be repentant for. "I want to do penance." He whispered in a harsh voice barely hiding the immense desire. Just the thought of what he wanted her to do to him had his blood boiling and his heart thundering in his chest.

"What do you mean?" Heather wanted him to be clear not only with her but with himself as well. She wasn't sure if he knew what he was asking for.

In another uncharacteristic move Grissom moved past her and up to her private rooms where he knew she had shackles mounted on the wall. Heather was hot on his heels with no protests. Actions spoke louder than words to her. He opened the door and was immediately hit by the scent of roses, but this did not deter him. Gil stripped off his shirt, his undershirt, and walked over to where the shackles waited. Grissom was exposing his clean unmarred back to her showing her what he wanted. But for this he would use words. "I want you to whip me for all that I have done to you." He secured the shackles to his wrists and waited. Not looking at her only heightened the anticipation. Grissom knew the pain that would come.

Heather was stunned and she was never surprised. But Grissom had managed it. He was bearing his back to her, asking to be beaten, giving her complete control. It was what she had wanted since first meeting him. She wanted him to surrender to her. And here he was, finally ready to surrender. "Grissom…" Was she really going to try and talk him out of it?

"Do it," he growled. Grissom was never one to let his emotions run away with him. But he could let go with Heather. He could be a man of passion, of fear, of desire. Gil Grissom could be himself. Deep down inside of him was a man who had been caged by the scientist. Now the man was free and daring the Dominatrix to dominate him. Grissom never enjoyed pain, but for her he would love it.

"Gil, this…" Heather stopped and then she relented. She turned to the door, shut it and then secured the lock before picking up one of the many whips she had mounted on the wall. Grasping it in her hand Heather actually closed her eyes just as the first blow landed on his unmarred flesh. She looked at him then after not hearing a sound. Heather was surprised. Even men more experienced than Grissom grunted in pain from one of her blows. She waited a beat giving him a chance to say stop. The plea never came from him. Again and again she landed blow after blow to his back with no cry of pain from him. Heather wanted to stop, but he never said the word. Not even after she drew first blood.

"Keep going." He clenched his fists, arching his back into the blows with the crack of the whip resounding in his ears. Grissom had never wanted the pain more than he wanted it right now to try and make up for ever thinking that Heather could kill a human being. She could inflict the sweetest pain, but that was her job, the submissive held all the power to make her stop. He would not tell her to stop. Another blow landed to his back and Gil let a yelp of pain escape before he could call it back. Heather had no choice but to keep going.

Heather lowered the whip and with to Grissom. She had had enough of this. This was not him, it was not Gil Grissom. The man before her was someone else entirely. But when she looked in his eyes there was the man she knew. He was done, he was over the pain, and he was ready to stop. But he was too proud to ask, to give in. She did the one thing she knew he wanted and what she wanted too. "I forgive you." Heather reached out and stroked the tips of her fingers down his sweat drenched face. She released the manacles around his wrists where he collapsed to the floor. Going to her knees Heather pulled Grissom into her arms mindful of the raw and ravaged state of his back. Tears gathered in her eyes for what she had just done. Never had she ever wanted to hurt him like this.

Gently Grissom reached his arms out wrapping this around her feeling that long sought after peace. She had forgiven him in the only way she understood. This way had been the only way Gil had wanted to say he was sorry. He had exhausted the conventional means; flowers, notes, phone calls. But nothing worked. Only this did. Only the tools of her profession would be the way back to her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck inhaling her scent deeply.

"I have to clean your wounds now," Heather spoke pulling back cupping his face. "I drew blood."

"I wanted you to draw blood to show how sorry I am," He clenched his fists against the first sharp, stinging, wave of pain that washed over him. The natural endorphins he body had produced were rapidly wearing off, but he would not show the pain. He would endure and let her tend him.

"Can you stand?" Heather hoped he could. She wasn't going to tend to him while he was crumpled on her floor.

"I think so," He mumbled fisting his hands in the fabric of her skirt while Heather's hands went to his waist to help him stand. Grissom felt shaky on his own legs. He draped his left arm across her shoulders letting her guide him to where her bed was.

Heather stopped short of the bed leaving Gil to stand under his own power. Kneeling down she took out a dark microfur blanket and spread it out on top of her comforter. "Here, lie flat on your stomach and don't move. I'll try to clean your wounds as painlessly as I can."

"Yes, Lady Heather." Grissom ran the tips of his fingers down her cheek before complying. The blanket felt so good to his skin that he nearly feel asleep. He might nap in the short span of time it took Heather to gather what she would need to bandage his back. He was sure she had those supplies.

Heather went to the adjacent bathroom to turn the tap on and run the water till it was hot. She noticed that her hand shook. Another first for her. She was always calm and collected when she dominated someone. Now this. Her hand was still shaking, right along with the rest of her. Pushing that thought away, Heather reached for the light weight marble basin and a cloth. While bringing out the gauze and tape with antibiotic ointment she waited for the water to get as hot as it could. First timers were always prone to hurt more than those who had been doing this for years. Crossing back over to his side she settled on the empty space next to Gil and set about cleaning his back. There was too much blood, but enough to cause her concern. "Grissom, I want you to let me know when you hurt."

"I will," Gil managed to say. Vying for his attention was exhaustion and pain. Grissom wasn't sure which would win. He did know that when Catherine or Brass found out that he was here, his wounds were the least of his worries. That realization made him laugh.

"What's so funny?" Heather asked gently cleaning the first of the lacerations that needed it the most. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but all the gentleness in the world would not stop the pain she was causing him at her tender ministrations. Heather could see the muscles of his back reacting to each pass of the cloth cleaning off the blood.

"Just thinking about what Catherine and Brass would say if they knew I came here, if they knew I paid the price in blood to gain your forgiveness." Grissom angled his head to stare at her. There gracing lips that he thought about constantly was a small smile.

"I've forgiven you," Heather said leaning over him to kiss his still smooth shoulder. "But don't ever ask me to hurt you again." She put a command into her voice. Heather enjoyed her work. But she did not enjoy dominating Grissom. They were equals in her eyes and in her heart.

"I won't," he replied. Grissom was tired. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be asleep long before she finished or perhaps shortly after. He hadn't been sure of the amount of emotional release he would suffer at the hands of his penance. But it had been substantial. Something inside of him melted with each blow and a sudden clarity washed over him in the span of seconds. Grissom had done this to understand as well as to ask for forgiveness. He wanted to be closer to Heather. This had to be the first step.

"Good." Heather set aside the basin finally ready for the bandages. She made quick work of covering the worst of his wounds. Then she put everything away, rinsed out the basin and set aside the cloth to be put in the laundry for later. When she came back out she could tell that Grissom was sleeping. She wasn't about to wake him, to tell him to leave. No, she wanted him here. She wanted to have him close to her. After all she had missed him as much as he had missed her. Heather took off his shoes and set them on the floor before she produced another blanket to put over him incase he got cold during what they held as their night. Dousing the lights Heather changed for the night. Before she could think not to she settled down next to Grissom and instantly was enveloped in sleep.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON:

Grissom woke to the late afternoon sun heating his back. Despite the events of the morning he felt content, his soul renewed with new life. Heather had forgiven him. That was what mattered to him the most, more so than the whipping. It was the only other way he knew of to apologize. Levering himself up Gil sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you sleep well?" he looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled. The smile was his answer. Gil Grissom could still smile.

Heather sat next to Grissom and lifted the edge of the bandage she had put on one of the deeper whip lacerations. The skin had knit together, but the wound was still raw and angry. "You'll have to leave these on for the rest of the day." She informed him placing a kiss to his bear shoulder. "Do you require anything for the pain? I know you must be feeling it." Heather asked coming off the bed to crouch in front of him.

"I don't. The pain is nothing I haven't earned." Grissom replied leaned foreword resting his forehead to hers. This, right here, with her was the most stable he had felt since that morning he called in for the warrant rather than ask her. He had to call it in. He had to remain objective, even after he had been in her bed a few hours before. Grissom had never stopped regretting that move.

"No, you haven't," Heather touched her lips to his gently drawing out a kiss she had been longing to give him since he showed up last night. She felt his hands run down her arms and slip around her waist drawing her closer. Her arms draped around his neck mindful of the whip marks. It had taken him great courage to come to her, to give up his control. Control was every thing to them.

Grissom wanted her in a way he had never wanted another woman. He drew her to him, across his lap, and he gave no thought to what pain could be caused should he lie back down on the bed. All he knew was the paradise of Heather's kiss, the feel of her against him. Nothing could take this moment from him until the ringing of his cell phone destroyed the silence. Gil pulled his head back sighing at the intrusion. "Pardon me."

Heather chuckled lightly shifting to sit on the bed as Grissom rose to his feet and walked slowly to his cell phone. She watched as he flipped it open, listened intently while making the appropriate noises in lieu of actually responding. That was her Gil Grissom, a man of few words. Then she noticed the shift in his demeanor. Heather had the feeling that he was going to be leaving her soon. She turned her face away to stare out the large bay window seeing the night falling over the desert. Soon the needy little boys would be showing up, all in need of domination. For the first time, Heather hated the setting sun.

Grissom listened intently to Catherine as she spoke filling him in on the DB that was found. They had a name and a place of employment. The girl had been identified as Alyna Montague and she worked for Lady Heather. This was the last thing he wanted to tell Heather. Yet another of her girls had been murdered. Death kept creeping into their relationship. At least this time he had come to her before death had. For that he was grateful. "Thanks Cath, I'll be in shortly to give you a hand."

"Can I ask where you've been all day? You just disappeared on us last night."

"I had penance to pay." Grissom answered his best friend knowing that Catherine wouldn't understand. He might explain it to her, then again she might not even ask.

"Where are you?"

"I'm with Lady Heather. I spent the night." Again Grissom told Catherine the truth. He couldn't hide something like this from her. She would sense the change in him and spend hours trying to draw the information from him. This was the best way to forestall the inevitable interrogation.

"Oh Gil. You can't help with this case…"

"I came here long before I knew there was a case Cath. As soon as the evidence leads to her door I will pull myself off and let you handle it." Grissom assured her. Catherine would definitely be watching him closely.

"Fine. When will you be at the Crime Lab?"

"I'll be there soon." Grissom turned looking at Heather. He raised one eyebrow adding a sly smile. Tonight Grissom would only leave when she told him to. There was no need for him to rush off, for him to leave her side. Gil wanted to stay as long as possible before death came between them.

"All right. See you soon."

The line went dead with Gil Grissom smiling at the tone of Catherine's voice. There was something to her tone that just amused him. He wasn't sure why; he just was. But amusement wasn't what was called for. He sobered instantly switching gears back into CSI Grissom. "Heather," Gil drew out her name. "I…"

"There's been another murder." She stated. She knew. Heather could see it in his eyes. A sigh escaped between her lips; her posture slumped just under the weight of that knowledge. "When will it stop?" It did no good to ask. There would never be an answer.

Taking measured step Grissom went to her. With his hands he cupped her face, signaling her to look at him. He needed to look into her deep green eyes. There was a need to comfort her, to reassure her that every thing would work out. Those assurances were hollow. Murder always happened. Yet, it seemed to happen in her world more and more. Maybe the pattern would be broken. Grissom could only hope. He leaned into her and placed the gentlest kiss to her forehead that he could. "I have to go." Hanging between them was the unspoken promise to return when he could.

LAS VEGAS CRIME LAB:

Catherine Willows always thought she had an open min. In fact she knew she did. If that was so, then why was she having the hardest time believing that Gil Grissom was so drawn to Lady Heather? It wasn't that Heather wasn't beautiful; she was, but that wasn't what drew Grissom. Heather's job was at the opposite end of the spectrum from his. So what was it that drew Grissom to her like a moth to a flame? Could it be the way Heather managed to shake Gil up. The one time she had seen them together, on accident, she had seen the way Heather and Gil moved as is in orbit of each other. Heather had this power over Grissom. That was no small feat. If Heather could get Gil to open up then she was the one woman in the universe for him alone.

"Hey Catherine, need help with the Montague case?" Sara had seen Catherine wondering the halls with a puzzled look on her face. So she thought she would come out and try to offer her assistance. Sara was only killing time until Grissom showed up. There had been something she wanted to talk to her boss about and it was personal. But last night Grissom had totally disappeared on them all. Sara never got the chance to talk to him. Now they had yet another murder to solve. Maybe tonight she would gain a small amount of luck and catch Gil alone.

"Uh," Catherine looked up to see Sara coming towards her. "Yeah, sure. Thanks Sara. I was waiting for Grissom. Guess you'll do." She smiled at the other woman. Sometimes Catherine wasn't entirely comfortable around Sara. There was just something about the other woman that she couldn't explain. Catherine liked Sara well enough and Sara was a dedicated CSI. So why was Catherine feeling this way? She didn't know and she wasn't going to waist time thinking about it. Not when there was a murder to solve.

"What do you have so far?" Sara asked scanning the hall, keeping an eye out for Grissom.

"Came from talking to Doc Robins, Alyna was stabbed three times in the back. One of the wounds delivered the death blow. It entered under her left shoulder blade and into the heart." Catherine pulled out the pictures from the file folder and handed them from the shoulder. "Now according the good doctor the assailant had to be about 6'2, maybe 6'4. The angle to the thrust was more upward than straight on."

"Poor girl. Hey Catherine," Sara spotted something on the morgue photos, "What are these?" She pointed to straight bruises along the ribcage. Sara counted ten lines all with equal spacing.

"Probably from the corset she was wearing." Catherine mentioned. She was looking at the autopsy report again trying to find something that she missed.

"Was she a hooker?"

"No, dominatrix. Alyna Montague worked at a local fetish club called Lady Heather's Dominion." Again, Catherine answered automatically.

"Fetish club?" Sara asked. Then she pieced it together. It was that dominatrix that Greg had been one and on about. Greg had been constantly talking about Lady Heather and how he thought Grissom had slept with her. Sara had given those rambling no credence what so ever until now. She reached out and put her hand on Catherine's arm. "Cath, where is Grissom?"

Catherine closed the coroner's report and looked at Sara. For a minute she thought she saw pain, betrayal, lingering in Sara's eyes. "He's on his way here." She made the answer as vague as possible. "Actually…" Catherine pulled out her phone and dialed Grissom. She had only disconnected with him ten minutes ago.

"Catherine, I'm just about to step off of the porch."

"Change of plans. Just stare there. I'll meet you." Catherine glanced at Sara then disconnected. She motioned with her head to the parking lot. They would take her Tahoe out to the Dominion. And it would be Catherine who spoke with Lady Heather rather than Grissom.

LADY HEATHER'S DOMINION:

Grissom closed his phone putting it once again in his pants pocket. He had told Catherine that he would be back at the Crime Lab only to get a call saying that she was coming to him, coming to Heather. What choice did he have? Grissom would stay at the Dominion waiting for his friend to show. Turning he smiled a gentle smile at Heather who had appeared behind him. Somehow he had missed the sound of the door opening.

"Did something happen?" Heather asked leaning against the door frame watching Grissom walk back to her. She didn't want him to leave, but she knew it was his job to speak for those who no longer had a voice to defend themselves.

"Catherine told me to stay where I was." Grissom couldn't help but let the tone of relief enter his voice. He hadn't wanted to leave Heather any more than she wanted him to go. "She said she was coming to us."

"You're happy about this?" She motioned between them, "About her knowing." Heather never hid anything, never felt the need to. But she knew Grissom valued his privacy and Heather respected that. On this she would take her cues from him.

Grissom stepped up to her, cupping her face. "I feel in tune with you now." He sighed "There is no words for me to describe…" He truly was at a loss for words. Heather was the only woman to actually put him off balance and he came back for more.

"I understand." Heather lightly touched her lips to his. She knew what he meant. She felt it too. The penance he paid last night wasn't just a way to ask forgiveness, it was a way for them to be closer together. He was the one man that she had wanted to be with since that first fateful night that murder had brought him to her door.