CHAPTER THREE (NC-17)
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Catherine slowly crawled to him, and reached over, running her hand through his salt and peppered hair.
Gil leaned into her touch, and then let his head drop against the back of the couch. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his hyperactive heart and racing libido. The music in the background still hung in the air, and reached Gil's now-attentive ears. He opened his eyes and looked for her, suddenly missing her touch. His eyes gazed at her body that was almost unaware of his existence; but he knew that this dance was only for him, and his heart swelled with pride. He looked down at his lap, noticing that his heart wasn't the only muscle to be affected Catherine's dancing.
Catherine, though her major focus remained on Gil and his reaction - which left her pleasantly surprised - a stronger, nostalgic rhythm forced her to become one with her body and accept the natural movements that her core created. Her body turned, bent, twisted and jerked to the music. She thought back to her days before her current line of work, when dancing for men *was* just a job - just a way to put food on the table and how her mind would numb itself, letting her body have complete control of her being whenever she went out on stage. It was the only way she could look at herself in the mirror the next day, knowing that it wasn't Catherine Willows that went out and thrived upon the lude tippers but another being that entered her body and just took control. She paused in a compromising position, looking at Gil from between her legs. She slowly rolled up, letting each vertebrae straighten one at a time. She smiled at his eyes, half closed and misty with lust; she was in control. This wasn't a dance to instigate money, this wasn't a job . . . this was her desire, right here, right now. She sauntered over to Gil, who's eyes never left hers as she approached.
"Cath. . ." He wasn't sure whether to make it a question or statement, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't have anything to say. «Or could it be that you *don't* want anything to be said?» His mind questioned him. He sat up straight as Catherine knelt before him, and he tried to push himself further into the couch, afraid that his reaction to the strawberry-blond would give away his darkest secret - his lusting and loving. He was terrified that she would learn of his feelings, thus destroying the relationship that might have always left him hungry for more, but still kept him satisfied until the next meal.
"Just relax, big boy." She licked her lips and placed a hand on each of his knees. Looking him in the eye, she thrust his legs apart, and grazed her nails up his thighs, almost up until his hips. Then, pressing the palms of her hands down, she dragged them back to his knees.
Gil's breathing came out in spurts. "Catherine. . . I - I" He exhaled loudly, his hips lifting off the couch as Catherine's hands began to travel on the inside of his legs.
She stopped right before her hands met together over his imminent arousal, and brought them back to the harbor.
"Cath . . . maybe we shouldn't be doing this." His head was once again resting on the back of the couch, his eyes looking upwards, almost begging a higher-up to never wake him from this dream.
She leaned against him, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to look her in the eye. There was fear in his eyes, but Catherine saw the unmistakable glimmer of lust. She heard it cascade from his lips - saw it travel from his mouth with every breath exhaled. Her next move caught both of them by surprise as she straddled his left thigh. She stood, his leg between both of hers, never breaking eye contact. She moved her hips rhythmically, following the beat that was once forgotten; her pelvis gently brushing against his thigh until her whole body was supported by him. Her hand reached to his chest, and she undid his buttons, slipping her hand in and feeling the warmth of his skin. She felt his heart beat wildly and she knew hers must be following the same drum. She trailed her fingers down to his stomach and felt him inhale sharply. She kept her other hand underneath his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her hand finally travelled down to his arousal and she cupped it, feeling the hardness push back against her. She almost gasped as she saw his eyes darken, and his low moan caressed her ears.
Gil exhaled roughly, his hips bucking against Catherine's hand. He gripped the fabric of the couch tightly, his knuckles turning a pasty white.
Catherine's breath was now as laboured as Gil's - the feel of his denim covered length pulsating in her hand was creating a wave of heat in her core. She ground her pelvis against him every time she gave his erection a squeeze. "Feeling a heart-attack coming on?" She asked in a sultry voice.
"You have no idea." Gil panted. He dropped his head to his chest, trying to regain control of his body. He was close . . . God, every time he was *near* Catherine he was close to his release. He knew Catherine was aware as she had slowed down the ministering she was giving him. "Okay. . ." He tried to catch his breath, "so you made your point."
A melodious laugh snapped his eyes to hers. "*That's* what you call a lap dance?" She grinned at him. His silence confirmed her suspicions. "So, that was the best you'd ever had?" She asked boldly as she dismounted him.
He smiled sheepishly and began to button up his shirt. He sighed, "well, I guess I'm not familiar with that world, now am I?"He looked at her defiantly.
She chuckled. "And here I was, just barely getting warmed-up." She said casually, stretching in front of him, showing off her best assets. A soft moan melted off her lips as she tensed a blocked muscle and then released it. Glancing at him, she saw it again, and again it took her breath away: the carnal-riddled look in his eyes. She watched as the animal-side, the one she suspected of laying dormant inside the docile man, spark to life. It looked as though he was ready to attack her, and though she had backed up to the door, she wasn't afraid. She was waiting for him to pounce, waiting for him to just take her so her desires would finally be fulfilled. «Sometimes the mouse has to provoke the cat in order for the chase to begin.» Smiling at her Grissom-ism.
He lunged at her, pinning her arms against the door. "Look at me." His voice was almost a growl, and electricity crackled between the minute spaces that lay suspended between their bodies.
Her eyes hesitantly opened and she soon found herself mesmerized by the ever darkening royal-blue hues that stared back at her. She didn't struggle against the hold he had on her arms nor did she push against the weight that was crushing her against the door. She just remained still, drowning in the passionate sea of his eyes. "Go on . . ." She whispered.
Gil searched her eyes. His carnal desires still remained authoritevely present, but his love for her was stronger than any of his dreams. He wanted her to feel happy, fulfilled and more importantly safe. He shifted his hold on her, grasping both hands with one of his, and keeping them pinned above her head. His other hand became lost in her hair, finally surfacing near her cheek. "Will you forgive me later?" He caressed her cheek, his eyes clearing up.
His gentle touch caused her to open her heart to his soul even more, if it was physically possible. His request for forgiveness sent shivers down her spine. "I need this, Gil . . . please." She pressed herself against his body, wanting to feel his arousal again. "If it's not to your liking, we'll pretend it never happened." She muttered, close to his ear. She let her tongue glide along the skin encasing the cartilage and nibbled on his earlobe. She sighed aloud as she felt him press into her, pushing her further against the door.
"How could one not be satisfied by making love to you, Catherine?" He asked, trailing his hand down to her breast.
Catherine smiled against his neck, admiring him on an even deeper level. «He thinks it as love, not just sex.» She told herself, knowing that repeating it was the only way that she would believe it. She pushed her chest out as his fingers grazed over a nipple. "To the couch." She offered, letting her tongue glide over the salty skin of his neck.
He dropped her arms, and placed both of his hands on her waist. Without distracting his eyes from hers, he walked backwards, taking her with him. He sat back down on the couch, pulling her, inciting her to once again straddle him. She sat down on his lap. Gil slipped his hand under her form fitting shirt and massaged her through her bra.
"Just . . . just touch me." She begged, guiding his hand underneath her skirt.
He felt her through the cotton material. "Cath. . . these are dangerous waters." He replied shakily. He wanted to give her the opportunity to stop from crossing the line, but his heart wanted her to reveal her being to him.
"I can swim," she exhaled, her head tilted backwards as he continued to rub her through her thin panties.
He smiled as he pushed her panties aside, and watched as her eyes snapped shut as his finger entered her. He loved watching her in the throws of passion, and her reaction fuelled his desire even more, knowing that he was the cause of her pleasure.
She moved slightly on his lap and undid the button and zip of his pants. It was her turn to feel him through his underwear. She watched him, his tongue resting between his teeth and she pulled down the elastic of his boxers and gasped louder than he did when her hand came into contact with his skin, the electricity warming her core even more. She felt him lift his hips off the couch at each stroke.
"Cath," Gil panted, "Cath I need you." He begged her with lusty hope and a sigh of happiness glided out with his exhalation as she positioned herself over him.
Catherine lowered herself onto his arousal, inciting a low grunt from Gil. Throwing her arms around his neck, the two moved together, revelling in the sensation of completion. Butterflies swarmed each of their tummies as they both felt themselves reaching their limits. Catherine raised her head and looked him in the eyes, hoping that they would convey the words she was never able to say.
Gil's eyes pierced hers, and he leaned close to her; his lips but a whisper away from hers. "Catherine." Desire laced her name as he felt her core hug him closer, for he knew that she was close.
Catherine tilted her head, attacking his lips as her climax crashed down, guiding Gil to his release as well. The feel of his lips on hers added to the warm pleasure that buzzed through her body, was too much, and Catherine feared she would black out from the intense feeling.
Gil pushed his tongue inside her mouth as a sense of happiness washed over his body. He remained in her, hearts pounding, lips nipping, body against body. His hand found her breast and he massaged it through her shirt. He lowered his head, tasting the skin of her neck, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by her.
"Hey Grissom!" The jiggling of the door handle caused both CSIs to snap their heads up.
Catherine jumped off Gil and headed towards the door, straightening out her skirt and top. She glanced back making sure that he was presentable before unlocking the door. "Warrick - sorry, I didn't realize I locked the door." Catherine mumbled, not meeting his eyes.
Warrick's eyebrow rocketed up. "Uh-huh." He looked to his supervisor who was sitting on the couch, folder on his lap, seemingly casual, yet the younger CSI knew that when it came the Graveshift's supervisor, nothing was as it seemed.. Warrick suppressed the urge to mention the fact that the spine of the folder is supposed to bend inwardly, but instead informed the two senior CSIs to meet him in the AV room. He exited with a knowing grin.
Catherine soon followed, turning around to meet Gil's eyes, which seemed to be averted anywhere but in her direction. She opened her mouth to speak, and watched as Gil brushed past her and headed towards the break room. She walked self-consciously towards the AV room, an unsettling feeling evolving with each step taken, the feeling that everyone in the lab was aware of her vulnerability - her impending rejection.
Gil arrived a few minutes behind, bottle of water in hand. He took a seat behind Catherine and merely looked at the screen.
Catherine turned around, giving him a questioning look, and almost whimpered when he wouldn't meet her eyes. She turned around and watched Warrick; inside her heart shattering in response to Gil's rejection bit her trembling lip, trying to keep her emotions in check - she had crossed the line and it had cost her their friendship. Her chest tightened, and she gripped the arms of the chair.
Warrick noticed the exchange, or lack thereof and was at a loss of further actions. He decided the let things play out - circumstances involving Gil and Catherine at opposing ends always seemed to have a natural way of progressing, and he hoped that eventually, both ends would meet. "I zoomed in on the video and here we can see Garber pouring the oils on her chest, right?" He fast-forwarded the video. "After he starts . . . exploring her breasts, he then expires."
"Yeah, we know that, War." Catherine said sharply, the hurt of being rejected now surfacing.
"Well, look here." He paused the tape just before Sasha exited the room. "Look at her face."
Gil pulled up his chair closer to the screen. "She's looking directly at the camera." He glanced up at Warrick who nodded a confirmation. "She knew!" Gil began.
"That's conspiracy." Catherine added, hoping to get Gil's attention, but to no avail. She sighed and offered more information none-the-less. "It's illegal to tape or record any lap dance or private session, but by Sasha's acknowledging the camera, that gives consent."
"I think we need to pay this Sasha another visit." Gil said aloud. "Catherine?" He turned to find her presence missing. He looks to Warrick who only shook his head with a sigh.
***
After having briefly checked the locker rooms for her being, Gil headed out to the parking lot where he spied Catherine waiting for him in her Tahoe. He walked up to the passenger side, and peeked in. "Cath?" He asked cautiously. "You okay?"
Pride kept her eyes focussed straight ahead, and she gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I'm fine." She gritted. She started the SUV and waited for Gil to climb in. Once he had buckled up, Catherine jerked the car into reverse and drove off, heading towards the Can-Can Room.
Gil side-spied her as she drove, knowing that she was well-aware of the tension that seemed to lay suspended in the air. He glanced at the red lights and turned slightly in his seat. "Cath . . ." He reached out for her.
"Not now, Gil." Catherine put her hand up, stopping him, but kept her eyes straight ahead. "Please, not now. . ." She whispered, emotion showing in her eyes.
Gil retreated his hand, and dropped it on his lap. He glanced out the window, his own eyes getting misty. He chewed on the inside of his lip, feeling his insides ache. He sighed, disgusted with himself for taking advantage of her - for ruining the special relationship they already had. His eyes thirsted for her, and he stole a look again, and noted sadness in her eyes. He continued to stare, wondering if she felt the same way, if that it wasn't a regret in her eyes.
"Gil, stop staring!" Catherine yelled, pain evident in her voice. "Please?" Her tone was so vulnerable, Gil felt as if he had been slapped in the face.
"We have to talk about this . . ." He said softly, looking down at his hands in his lap.
She sped up a little. "And we will, after the shift." She replied professionally, ignoring the downcast sigh that floated from his direction.
–TBC–
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Catherine slowly crawled to him, and reached over, running her hand through his salt and peppered hair.
Gil leaned into her touch, and then let his head drop against the back of the couch. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his hyperactive heart and racing libido. The music in the background still hung in the air, and reached Gil's now-attentive ears. He opened his eyes and looked for her, suddenly missing her touch. His eyes gazed at her body that was almost unaware of his existence; but he knew that this dance was only for him, and his heart swelled with pride. He looked down at his lap, noticing that his heart wasn't the only muscle to be affected Catherine's dancing.
Catherine, though her major focus remained on Gil and his reaction - which left her pleasantly surprised - a stronger, nostalgic rhythm forced her to become one with her body and accept the natural movements that her core created. Her body turned, bent, twisted and jerked to the music. She thought back to her days before her current line of work, when dancing for men *was* just a job - just a way to put food on the table and how her mind would numb itself, letting her body have complete control of her being whenever she went out on stage. It was the only way she could look at herself in the mirror the next day, knowing that it wasn't Catherine Willows that went out and thrived upon the lude tippers but another being that entered her body and just took control. She paused in a compromising position, looking at Gil from between her legs. She slowly rolled up, letting each vertebrae straighten one at a time. She smiled at his eyes, half closed and misty with lust; she was in control. This wasn't a dance to instigate money, this wasn't a job . . . this was her desire, right here, right now. She sauntered over to Gil, who's eyes never left hers as she approached.
"Cath. . ." He wasn't sure whether to make it a question or statement, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't have anything to say. «Or could it be that you *don't* want anything to be said?» His mind questioned him. He sat up straight as Catherine knelt before him, and he tried to push himself further into the couch, afraid that his reaction to the strawberry-blond would give away his darkest secret - his lusting and loving. He was terrified that she would learn of his feelings, thus destroying the relationship that might have always left him hungry for more, but still kept him satisfied until the next meal.
"Just relax, big boy." She licked her lips and placed a hand on each of his knees. Looking him in the eye, she thrust his legs apart, and grazed her nails up his thighs, almost up until his hips. Then, pressing the palms of her hands down, she dragged them back to his knees.
Gil's breathing came out in spurts. "Catherine. . . I - I" He exhaled loudly, his hips lifting off the couch as Catherine's hands began to travel on the inside of his legs.
She stopped right before her hands met together over his imminent arousal, and brought them back to the harbor.
"Cath . . . maybe we shouldn't be doing this." His head was once again resting on the back of the couch, his eyes looking upwards, almost begging a higher-up to never wake him from this dream.
She leaned against him, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to look her in the eye. There was fear in his eyes, but Catherine saw the unmistakable glimmer of lust. She heard it cascade from his lips - saw it travel from his mouth with every breath exhaled. Her next move caught both of them by surprise as she straddled his left thigh. She stood, his leg between both of hers, never breaking eye contact. She moved her hips rhythmically, following the beat that was once forgotten; her pelvis gently brushing against his thigh until her whole body was supported by him. Her hand reached to his chest, and she undid his buttons, slipping her hand in and feeling the warmth of his skin. She felt his heart beat wildly and she knew hers must be following the same drum. She trailed her fingers down to his stomach and felt him inhale sharply. She kept her other hand underneath his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her hand finally travelled down to his arousal and she cupped it, feeling the hardness push back against her. She almost gasped as she saw his eyes darken, and his low moan caressed her ears.
Gil exhaled roughly, his hips bucking against Catherine's hand. He gripped the fabric of the couch tightly, his knuckles turning a pasty white.
Catherine's breath was now as laboured as Gil's - the feel of his denim covered length pulsating in her hand was creating a wave of heat in her core. She ground her pelvis against him every time she gave his erection a squeeze. "Feeling a heart-attack coming on?" She asked in a sultry voice.
"You have no idea." Gil panted. He dropped his head to his chest, trying to regain control of his body. He was close . . . God, every time he was *near* Catherine he was close to his release. He knew Catherine was aware as she had slowed down the ministering she was giving him. "Okay. . ." He tried to catch his breath, "so you made your point."
A melodious laugh snapped his eyes to hers. "*That's* what you call a lap dance?" She grinned at him. His silence confirmed her suspicions. "So, that was the best you'd ever had?" She asked boldly as she dismounted him.
He smiled sheepishly and began to button up his shirt. He sighed, "well, I guess I'm not familiar with that world, now am I?"He looked at her defiantly.
She chuckled. "And here I was, just barely getting warmed-up." She said casually, stretching in front of him, showing off her best assets. A soft moan melted off her lips as she tensed a blocked muscle and then released it. Glancing at him, she saw it again, and again it took her breath away: the carnal-riddled look in his eyes. She watched as the animal-side, the one she suspected of laying dormant inside the docile man, spark to life. It looked as though he was ready to attack her, and though she had backed up to the door, she wasn't afraid. She was waiting for him to pounce, waiting for him to just take her so her desires would finally be fulfilled. «Sometimes the mouse has to provoke the cat in order for the chase to begin.» Smiling at her Grissom-ism.
He lunged at her, pinning her arms against the door. "Look at me." His voice was almost a growl, and electricity crackled between the minute spaces that lay suspended between their bodies.
Her eyes hesitantly opened and she soon found herself mesmerized by the ever darkening royal-blue hues that stared back at her. She didn't struggle against the hold he had on her arms nor did she push against the weight that was crushing her against the door. She just remained still, drowning in the passionate sea of his eyes. "Go on . . ." She whispered.
Gil searched her eyes. His carnal desires still remained authoritevely present, but his love for her was stronger than any of his dreams. He wanted her to feel happy, fulfilled and more importantly safe. He shifted his hold on her, grasping both hands with one of his, and keeping them pinned above her head. His other hand became lost in her hair, finally surfacing near her cheek. "Will you forgive me later?" He caressed her cheek, his eyes clearing up.
His gentle touch caused her to open her heart to his soul even more, if it was physically possible. His request for forgiveness sent shivers down her spine. "I need this, Gil . . . please." She pressed herself against his body, wanting to feel his arousal again. "If it's not to your liking, we'll pretend it never happened." She muttered, close to his ear. She let her tongue glide along the skin encasing the cartilage and nibbled on his earlobe. She sighed aloud as she felt him press into her, pushing her further against the door.
"How could one not be satisfied by making love to you, Catherine?" He asked, trailing his hand down to her breast.
Catherine smiled against his neck, admiring him on an even deeper level. «He thinks it as love, not just sex.» She told herself, knowing that repeating it was the only way that she would believe it. She pushed her chest out as his fingers grazed over a nipple. "To the couch." She offered, letting her tongue glide over the salty skin of his neck.
He dropped her arms, and placed both of his hands on her waist. Without distracting his eyes from hers, he walked backwards, taking her with him. He sat back down on the couch, pulling her, inciting her to once again straddle him. She sat down on his lap. Gil slipped his hand under her form fitting shirt and massaged her through her bra.
"Just . . . just touch me." She begged, guiding his hand underneath her skirt.
He felt her through the cotton material. "Cath. . . these are dangerous waters." He replied shakily. He wanted to give her the opportunity to stop from crossing the line, but his heart wanted her to reveal her being to him.
"I can swim," she exhaled, her head tilted backwards as he continued to rub her through her thin panties.
He smiled as he pushed her panties aside, and watched as her eyes snapped shut as his finger entered her. He loved watching her in the throws of passion, and her reaction fuelled his desire even more, knowing that he was the cause of her pleasure.
She moved slightly on his lap and undid the button and zip of his pants. It was her turn to feel him through his underwear. She watched him, his tongue resting between his teeth and she pulled down the elastic of his boxers and gasped louder than he did when her hand came into contact with his skin, the electricity warming her core even more. She felt him lift his hips off the couch at each stroke.
"Cath," Gil panted, "Cath I need you." He begged her with lusty hope and a sigh of happiness glided out with his exhalation as she positioned herself over him.
Catherine lowered herself onto his arousal, inciting a low grunt from Gil. Throwing her arms around his neck, the two moved together, revelling in the sensation of completion. Butterflies swarmed each of their tummies as they both felt themselves reaching their limits. Catherine raised her head and looked him in the eyes, hoping that they would convey the words she was never able to say.
Gil's eyes pierced hers, and he leaned close to her; his lips but a whisper away from hers. "Catherine." Desire laced her name as he felt her core hug him closer, for he knew that she was close.
Catherine tilted her head, attacking his lips as her climax crashed down, guiding Gil to his release as well. The feel of his lips on hers added to the warm pleasure that buzzed through her body, was too much, and Catherine feared she would black out from the intense feeling.
Gil pushed his tongue inside her mouth as a sense of happiness washed over his body. He remained in her, hearts pounding, lips nipping, body against body. His hand found her breast and he massaged it through her shirt. He lowered his head, tasting the skin of her neck, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by her.
"Hey Grissom!" The jiggling of the door handle caused both CSIs to snap their heads up.
Catherine jumped off Gil and headed towards the door, straightening out her skirt and top. She glanced back making sure that he was presentable before unlocking the door. "Warrick - sorry, I didn't realize I locked the door." Catherine mumbled, not meeting his eyes.
Warrick's eyebrow rocketed up. "Uh-huh." He looked to his supervisor who was sitting on the couch, folder on his lap, seemingly casual, yet the younger CSI knew that when it came the Graveshift's supervisor, nothing was as it seemed.. Warrick suppressed the urge to mention the fact that the spine of the folder is supposed to bend inwardly, but instead informed the two senior CSIs to meet him in the AV room. He exited with a knowing grin.
Catherine soon followed, turning around to meet Gil's eyes, which seemed to be averted anywhere but in her direction. She opened her mouth to speak, and watched as Gil brushed past her and headed towards the break room. She walked self-consciously towards the AV room, an unsettling feeling evolving with each step taken, the feeling that everyone in the lab was aware of her vulnerability - her impending rejection.
Gil arrived a few minutes behind, bottle of water in hand. He took a seat behind Catherine and merely looked at the screen.
Catherine turned around, giving him a questioning look, and almost whimpered when he wouldn't meet her eyes. She turned around and watched Warrick; inside her heart shattering in response to Gil's rejection bit her trembling lip, trying to keep her emotions in check - she had crossed the line and it had cost her their friendship. Her chest tightened, and she gripped the arms of the chair.
Warrick noticed the exchange, or lack thereof and was at a loss of further actions. He decided the let things play out - circumstances involving Gil and Catherine at opposing ends always seemed to have a natural way of progressing, and he hoped that eventually, both ends would meet. "I zoomed in on the video and here we can see Garber pouring the oils on her chest, right?" He fast-forwarded the video. "After he starts . . . exploring her breasts, he then expires."
"Yeah, we know that, War." Catherine said sharply, the hurt of being rejected now surfacing.
"Well, look here." He paused the tape just before Sasha exited the room. "Look at her face."
Gil pulled up his chair closer to the screen. "She's looking directly at the camera." He glanced up at Warrick who nodded a confirmation. "She knew!" Gil began.
"That's conspiracy." Catherine added, hoping to get Gil's attention, but to no avail. She sighed and offered more information none-the-less. "It's illegal to tape or record any lap dance or private session, but by Sasha's acknowledging the camera, that gives consent."
"I think we need to pay this Sasha another visit." Gil said aloud. "Catherine?" He turned to find her presence missing. He looks to Warrick who only shook his head with a sigh.
***
After having briefly checked the locker rooms for her being, Gil headed out to the parking lot where he spied Catherine waiting for him in her Tahoe. He walked up to the passenger side, and peeked in. "Cath?" He asked cautiously. "You okay?"
Pride kept her eyes focussed straight ahead, and she gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I'm fine." She gritted. She started the SUV and waited for Gil to climb in. Once he had buckled up, Catherine jerked the car into reverse and drove off, heading towards the Can-Can Room.
Gil side-spied her as she drove, knowing that she was well-aware of the tension that seemed to lay suspended in the air. He glanced at the red lights and turned slightly in his seat. "Cath . . ." He reached out for her.
"Not now, Gil." Catherine put her hand up, stopping him, but kept her eyes straight ahead. "Please, not now. . ." She whispered, emotion showing in her eyes.
Gil retreated his hand, and dropped it on his lap. He glanced out the window, his own eyes getting misty. He chewed on the inside of his lip, feeling his insides ache. He sighed, disgusted with himself for taking advantage of her - for ruining the special relationship they already had. His eyes thirsted for her, and he stole a look again, and noted sadness in her eyes. He continued to stare, wondering if she felt the same way, if that it wasn't a regret in her eyes.
"Gil, stop staring!" Catherine yelled, pain evident in her voice. "Please?" Her tone was so vulnerable, Gil felt as if he had been slapped in the face.
"We have to talk about this . . ." He said softly, looking down at his hands in his lap.
She sped up a little. "And we will, after the shift." She replied professionally, ignoring the downcast sigh that floated from his direction.
–TBC–