Chapter 2 – Invitation

And I know what you fear more than anything, Mr. Grissom.

Which is?

Being known. You can't accept that I might know what you really desire, because that would mean that I know you. Something, for whatever reason, you spend your entire life making sure no one else does.

Lady Heather, you're an anthropologist.

Another case involving murder brought him back to her dominion. The lifestyle itself had always fascinated him, but the woman who indulged in it as a profession seemed to fascinate him more. She was intuitive, far more so than a dominatrix should be, he thought. But he figured you had to be when dealing with people's secrets.

Her elegance was timeless, the way she spoke, ethereal. She had a way of inhabiting your soul, whether you wanted her to or not. Grissom was sure she had brought many men to their knees, both within these walls and outside of them. He was also sure that Lady Heather could no more work in another profession than he could have been anything other than a scientist. She seemed to embody everything sensual. It emanated from her in a way that was almost tangible.

And that is how Gil Grissom found himself between Lady Heather's satin sheets.

He arrived at her place of business, alone, with questions about suspects. He was there towards the end of his shift, so any time they spent afterwards would be on his own time. Grissom didn't feel the need to share that with her, only sharing his need for information. Information concerning the suspects, information concerning himself, he just needed information, and he needed it from her.

Grissom asked her questions, and Lady Heather was more than happy to comply. Soon he became more interested in the dynamics of the suspects' marriage. Lady Heather seemed to know quite a bit about the dynamics between two people. Her expertise was obviously in the submissive and dominant ways in which people interacted.

"Unfortunately, the language we speak in here doesn't necessarily translate to the world out there."

Her back towards Grissom, she struck a match to light a candle, giving a lustrous ambiance to their subtle conversation.

"No, in here, the submissive has the power. All he has to do is say the safety word and everything stops."

Lady Heather made no attempt to hide her approval. "Very good, Mr. Grissom." She blew out the match and turned around to face him. Rapt attention always drew her in. It was rare to find someone in her line of work that paid close attention to her. It always had to be the other way around to ensure the satisfaction of her customers.

Grissom awkwardly brushed off the compliment. True he had paid close attention to Lady Heather from the moment he met her, but he wasn't going to admit to it. She already knew too much about him, and in such little time, that he felt more guarded around her now than in their previous encounters. "I'm just repeating what I've heard."

Unfortunately for Grissom, it was his awkwardness that was so telling for her. The more he tried to hide, the more it exposed him to her. "You're a good listener."

Again Grissom just shrugged. Her comments were dangerous. "Part of the job."

Lady Heather knew that Grissom was trying to avoid any talk that threatened his private nature, but still she persisted. That was her nature. "So this is work?"

Grissom straightened at the question. It was daytime, he worked the night shift, and it was clear that being here would extend past his business hours. But they were discussing suspects, however. It could be considered work. "Yes." It wasn't entirely a lie. "But I value your insight."

Lady Heather offered Grissom a sultry smile. "I'm flattered. But you already seem to know the answers to your questions. You keep me in proximity when I walk away and when I'm close..." she edged closer, allowing only slight distance between them, "you watch my lips." She considered only briefly before speaking, knowing she already had the answer to her own question. "Are you losing your hearing?"

Grissom faltered, unable to relinquish the truth to her. Her ability to read him continued to catch him off guard; not even those close to him could read him so well. Those who worked with him every day hardly suspected there was a problem. Being so transparent to another person was disconcerting to him.

Maintaining full composure, he skirted the issue without lying, but without giving her the answer she requested. "I'm losing my balance."

Lady Heather looked at him inquisitively. "Your sense of self?"

If there was one thing Gil Grissom was sure of, no matter what he was faced with, it was his own identity. "No," he said softly, "I know who I am."

Lady Heather watched his eyes for a glimmer of uncertainty. She saw none, but persisted nonetheless. "Do you?"

Grissom allowed a small smile to adorn his features. "Yes, I do."

With that Grissom reached out and brushed the soft wisps of hair that threatened to mar her perfect features. Her eyes fluttered shut against her will to keep composed. Fighting her emotions, she forced herself to look at him, to continue to read the man in front of her. Grissom brought up his other hand, framing her face like a delicate picture.

He looked into Lady Heather's eyes, and saw so many emotions that he was sure she'd otherwise try to hide. For just a moment, it was as if she had forgotten her profession, her control, and allowed herself to be human, allowed herself to display her own wants in a place that required the opposite.

"You can always say stop."

"So can you."

For once Grissom wanted to get caught up in something he didn't have to think about. When he did allow himself to think, it always came back to one thing. And lately, he had a lot more on his mind that he wished he had not been privy to. He hadn't been able to shake it from his mind since.

I wish she'd mentioned her relationship with the EMT.

Sara's eyes flashed in his mind, her brown eyes filled with remorse. Her features had fallen, her heart at once exposed.

He was just, uh, being polite and, um, it's not a relationship.

Accusations that Sara had tried to explain made her look all the more guilty. Maybe it wasn't as serious as his former mentor had made it out to be, but there was definitely something there. Sara's awkward reaction said as much.

And before him stood Lady Heather, with her crimson lips full and waiting, expecting nothing from him but what he was willing to give. In that moment there were no mixed messages, nothing to misunderstand, no innuendos. There were no repercussions, or an imbalance of power. Just her electric eyes and soft skin and an invitation to be taken.

Leaning in slowly, he let his breath caress her lips before he brushed them with his, a feather-light touch, testing the waters of her soul.

With his hands holding her face, Grissom took her.