Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.
Author's Note: I love funny Grissom/Heather stories but there are hardly any out there. Here's one to add to the collection.
"Shit," Heather mumbled to herself. Her stomach was throbbing with pain, she had a headache, and her feet hurt. Not exactly the best way to start her morning off. With a world-heavy sigh, the brunette slipped her bathrobe on and trudged down the stairs of Gil Grissom's townhouse. She was sure that she looked as horrible as she felt, but wasn't too worried about looks in the particular moment.
"I made breakfast." Gil beamed, suddenly standing right before her. "Eggs, toast, coffee. You name it, and I guarantee it's on the table."
Heather made a face as she brushed past him. "Breakfast?" She groaned before continuing. "That sounds disgusting."
Gil tried not to appear as hurt as he felt. "Is something wrong?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. I need some… things. From the store. Will you go and get them?" The brunette didn't bother waiting for a reply. She grabbed an old napkin from the coffee table, along with the pen perched next to it, and jotted a few things down. "Please and thank you."
Gil took the napkin but didn't glance at it, and headed for the door. "I'll be back!"
His female companion of one year and one month exactly shrugged his reply off as she sank into their plush grey couch. She grabbed the remote and switched the channel to a movie playing on AMC. After staring at the screen for a good fifteen minutes, Heather finally decided that Johnny Depp was extremely good looking; and she'd been denying for a very long time.
Gil arrived home half an hour later and was carrying two large brown bags. His cheeks were flushed as if he had walked outside into the blistering cold, but that wasn't the case at all and they both knew it.
"Did you get everything?" Heather inquired, taking a bag from him and peering inside.
"Yes," came his humble response. "May I assume that this is why you're acting so funny?" At the end of his sentence, Gil reached into the bag he was holding and pulled out a box of tampons.
Heather immediately snatched the box away and strode back to the living room. "If you must know, the answer if yes."
Gil joined her on the couch with a smile. He couldn't help but tease her. "What are you up to? Chick flicks? Hunky guys? Ice cream and popcorn?"
The brunette glared at him before reaching into her bag again and pulling out a carton of what appeared to be ice cream. She took the lid off, sunk her index finger into the white mystery food and licked it off as slowly as she could.
"It's frozen yogurt. Not ice cream."
Gil shook his head to clear the extremely excitable images she had just displayed. He stood up from the couch with a grin. "If you need me, I'll be in my office."
Heather refocused on the movie, still eating the frozen yogurt with her long index finger. The Entomologist paused in the doorway to watch her, and still grinning he added, "You're like an animal in heat, you know that, right? Having me run to fetch you things, not doing anything but watching movies…"
The brunette picked up the box of feminine products and hurled them at Gil, who caught them.
"Ooh, feisty too? Perhaps a Midol would help?" He joked.
Heather decided to play along. She placed her frozen treat on the coffee table and darted up the stairs, crying as she went. When asked what was wrong, her sobs made it hard to hear the answer.
"You're such an asshole! What is your problem?!" She cried, standing at the top of the stairs.
Gil instantly felt bad for making her cry. He began apologizing profusely, not stopping even when the telephone began to ring. "I'm sorry, Heather!"
"I'm sorry too," Her sobs faded out. "That you just fell for that!" With a triumphant smile, Heather walked down the stairs with a bright smile. "My, my, Gil. You're a man of intelligence. And yet you fall for the simplest tricks."
The man felt his jaw drop as he stared at her in disbelief. "You mean, you're not upset?"
Heather gave him a peck on the cheek. "Gil, there are two things you need to know about women. One, never misjudge us." She paused, running one finger over his lips. "And two, never, ever screw around with a woman on her period."
With a shocked grin Gil managed to reply, "Dually noted."
"Good," Heather smiled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish what I started."
She sat on the couch, her bathrobe now being used as a blanket. She continued to eat her frozen yogurt and watch whatever movie was playing on the television. For a brief moment Gil considered joining her. After recalling what she had said just moments before, he decided against it. He did value his life and after her statement, he had no intentions of putting himself in danger. Especially not at the hands of a dominatrix who was having 'that time of the month'. Shuddering at the possibilities of what she was capable of, Gil smiled to himself as he returned to his office. He had no doubts that she kidding around with what she said. And he wasn't really in the mood to see just what she would do if he pissed her off or did anything she didn't like.
That would have to wait until he was sure the time of the month has passed and things weren't so outrageous. But it would be awfully hard to resist the temptation until then…