Title: The Art of Gentle Persuasion
Author: Tracy
Rating: Eventually NC17… but that will be over at the Graveshift...here, it won't go any higher than an R
Summary: A favour asked leads to all sorts of fun.
Pairings: Well, C/G, obviously, and in my head Nick is making a play for Sara – can't say how things will turn out because she's being a stubborn so-and-so, but if I have my way she won't be making eyes at Gris for much longer. LOL
Disclaimer: I want them – but since I don't have them you can all pretty much surmise that they don't belong to me.
A/N: Thanks go to Traci for beta'ing, and encouraging, and generally nagging me to pieces. Ha! Gotcha, Trac!
~x~
Catherine stood in the doorway to Grissom's office and studied the preoccupied man for a moment before making herself known. His head was bent over a jar and a look of concentration alighted his face. "Gil?"
He looked up and as always, smiled at her presence. "Catherine, take a look at this and tell me what you think."
"In a minute," she replied as she ignored the creepy crawly Gil was gesturing to and plonked herself down on a corner of the desk. "I have to ask you something."
Gil put the jar down, noting that Catherine was looking a little apprehensive. "What is it?"
"I need a favour."
"Anything for you, Cath," he replied without even thinking.
"You might want to find out what the favour is before you agree like that."
"I trust you," he said with a small smile.
"Okay then," she blinked. "Good."
Gil stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to volunteer more information. When she didn't he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms on the desk. "Well?"
"Well what?" she countered.
"What is this favour you need?"
"I knew this was way too easy," she said under her breath.
He cocked his head but said nothing, knowing that she would tell him in her own time and feeling no particular hurry pull it out of her.
"Okay. Here it goes. I've been doing a little fund raising for a local children's charity and well. . . . Someone came up with the bright idea of hosting a black tie function. We really need some more volunteers, so I was hoping you wouldn't mind donating a little of your time to help me out."
"You mean like collecting money, handing out drinks – that kind of thing."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Not exactly."
"What exactly?" Gil asked suspiciously.
"It's kind of a bachelor auction."
"*Kind of* a bachelor auction?" He wasn't very proud of the fact that his voice raised an octave - maybe two, to come out in a pitiful squeak.
"Gil, I'm desperate. I've had four volunteers drop out at the last minute and I need to replace them."
Gil was looking at her apprehensively. "You're actually asking me to stand up in front of a room full of desperate women and sell myself to the highest bidder? As a favour to you?"
"When you put it like that it sounds so crude," Catherine objected.
His eyes narrowed and she shuffled uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Okay," he suddenly acquiesced.
"What?"
"I said okay," he grinned at her. "On one condition."
"Which is?" she asked suspiciously, her heart thumping at an alarming rate from the way he was looking at her.
"You have to buy me."
Catherine coughed nervously. "Er…I think it's against regulations for organisers to bid on the merchandise."
Gil was adamant. "Either you buy me, or no deal. I'm not spending the night with some strange woman leering at me."
"Gil –"
"You're a smart woman, Cath. Figure out a way around the regulations, or find someone else to be your little patsy."
"Okay," she sighed, knowing that stubborn look on his face all too well. "I'll figure out something."
"We have a deal then?" he pressed.
"Yes, we have a deal."
They shook on it and then Gil asked, "So, when is this bachelor auction?"
Catherine was suddenly all business like again. "It's Friday night at 7 o'clock. You'll have to wear a tux."
"Why?"
"Because once I own you, we'll be spending the night dancing – after we've finished dinner, that is."
"Hey," Gil objected, "You didn't say anything about dancing!"
Catherine grinned impishly. "Too late, Gil – you can't back out now."
"Wait a minute, Catherine, I'm working this Friday night."
"You're the boss – rearrange the roster," she called over her shoulder as she left the office.
"Cath, I'm serious."
"I can't hear you, Gil," she sang out from the elevator.
TBC
Author: Tracy
Rating: Eventually NC17… but that will be over at the Graveshift...here, it won't go any higher than an R
Summary: A favour asked leads to all sorts of fun.
Pairings: Well, C/G, obviously, and in my head Nick is making a play for Sara – can't say how things will turn out because she's being a stubborn so-and-so, but if I have my way she won't be making eyes at Gris for much longer. LOL
Disclaimer: I want them – but since I don't have them you can all pretty much surmise that they don't belong to me.
A/N: Thanks go to Traci for beta'ing, and encouraging, and generally nagging me to pieces. Ha! Gotcha, Trac!
~x~
Catherine stood in the doorway to Grissom's office and studied the preoccupied man for a moment before making herself known. His head was bent over a jar and a look of concentration alighted his face. "Gil?"
He looked up and as always, smiled at her presence. "Catherine, take a look at this and tell me what you think."
"In a minute," she replied as she ignored the creepy crawly Gil was gesturing to and plonked herself down on a corner of the desk. "I have to ask you something."
Gil put the jar down, noting that Catherine was looking a little apprehensive. "What is it?"
"I need a favour."
"Anything for you, Cath," he replied without even thinking.
"You might want to find out what the favour is before you agree like that."
"I trust you," he said with a small smile.
"Okay then," she blinked. "Good."
Gil stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to volunteer more information. When she didn't he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms on the desk. "Well?"
"Well what?" she countered.
"What is this favour you need?"
"I knew this was way too easy," she said under her breath.
He cocked his head but said nothing, knowing that she would tell him in her own time and feeling no particular hurry pull it out of her.
"Okay. Here it goes. I've been doing a little fund raising for a local children's charity and well. . . . Someone came up with the bright idea of hosting a black tie function. We really need some more volunteers, so I was hoping you wouldn't mind donating a little of your time to help me out."
"You mean like collecting money, handing out drinks – that kind of thing."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Not exactly."
"What exactly?" Gil asked suspiciously.
"It's kind of a bachelor auction."
"*Kind of* a bachelor auction?" He wasn't very proud of the fact that his voice raised an octave - maybe two, to come out in a pitiful squeak.
"Gil, I'm desperate. I've had four volunteers drop out at the last minute and I need to replace them."
Gil was looking at her apprehensively. "You're actually asking me to stand up in front of a room full of desperate women and sell myself to the highest bidder? As a favour to you?"
"When you put it like that it sounds so crude," Catherine objected.
His eyes narrowed and she shuffled uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Okay," he suddenly acquiesced.
"What?"
"I said okay," he grinned at her. "On one condition."
"Which is?" she asked suspiciously, her heart thumping at an alarming rate from the way he was looking at her.
"You have to buy me."
Catherine coughed nervously. "Er…I think it's against regulations for organisers to bid on the merchandise."
Gil was adamant. "Either you buy me, or no deal. I'm not spending the night with some strange woman leering at me."
"Gil –"
"You're a smart woman, Cath. Figure out a way around the regulations, or find someone else to be your little patsy."
"Okay," she sighed, knowing that stubborn look on his face all too well. "I'll figure out something."
"We have a deal then?" he pressed.
"Yes, we have a deal."
They shook on it and then Gil asked, "So, when is this bachelor auction?"
Catherine was suddenly all business like again. "It's Friday night at 7 o'clock. You'll have to wear a tux."
"Why?"
"Because once I own you, we'll be spending the night dancing – after we've finished dinner, that is."
"Hey," Gil objected, "You didn't say anything about dancing!"
Catherine grinned impishly. "Too late, Gil – you can't back out now."
"Wait a minute, Catherine, I'm working this Friday night."
"You're the boss – rearrange the roster," she called over her shoulder as she left the office.
"Cath, I'm serious."
"I can't hear you, Gil," she sang out from the elevator.
TBC