FF: Grissom Jr. [Alphabet Challenge - G]
Author: Emily
Rating: R
Category: CG smutacular!
Dedicated to Gomes for the ideas, and Anne for the motivation, and to Caroline for keeping count (what's the tally now? Ten trillion and three??), and to all of them for waiting ... well, semi-patiently, at least, for some smut. Cheers!
"Find anything?" he asked as he leaned over her shoulder to watch her progress.
"Yeah, a whole boatload of bupkis," she replied humourlessly. She was mad and touchy and frustrated.
Actually, frustrated just about summed up her mood that evening. Frustrated with the city for making her rush the crime scene, frustrated with the lack of evidence, frustrated with the cadets, most of whom couldn't find a murder weapon if it smacked them in the face.
Of course, these were merely annoyances compared to Gil. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, but it seemed as though every other minute, he was brushing up against her, accidentally touching her or hovering around her, and it was driving her insane.
With desire.
How long had she known Gil? In days, months or years ... it really didn't matter. The fact was, she had always been attracted to him. And in the past little while, they had been flirting non-stop, little glances and amusing banter, minute touches that sent shivers down her spine. And now, here he was, leaning over her shoulder as she dusted the interior of the car for prints, and she could smell his soap. She had to physically fight herself to keep her body from pushing back against him.
And when he reached around her to grab his kit, his hand brushing ever so slightly against the small of her back, she almost betrayed herself by letting out a groan. She managed to swallow it just in time, taking a deep breath as she heard Gil's footsteps retreat.
It was going to be a long night.
Catherine bent over the microscope, peering at the fibres Warrick had found on the victim. She looked up long enough to scribble a brief note about the cross-section, but her gaze fell instead on a shadow in the doorway.
Holy hell, she thought. He's wearing a leather jacket.
"Getting anywhere?"
Getting hornier by the minute, said the voice inside her head.
"Warrick found some red fibres on the victim's jacket, which have a triangular cross-section."
"Car upholstery?"
"That's what I'm thinking."
"Ah."
He walked around the table and stood beside her, his arm brushing hers as he leaned over the microscope. Catherine stepped back, and was suddenly treated to one of the most arousing views she'd ever witnessed: Gil's ass in tight jeans.
This time she couldn't help it. A low moan escaped her lips, and Gil peered over his shoulder at her.
"You OK?"
Hell no. You're making me so hot ...
"Uh, yeah. Just ... stretching."
He nodded and smiled slightly before turning back to the microscope. "Did you get a look at this tear in the fabric?" he asked.
"Tear? No. Let me see," she said, summoning the courage to approach him again. She looked into the microscope at the frayed end of the fabric.
And that was when things started to unravel.
A touch on her thigh. A breath on her neck. The smell of his leather jacket, mixed with the smell that could only be described as Gil.
Houston, we have a problem.
The gasp rose in her throat, and pushed it's way past her lips. Her head jerked up as his hand brushed her thigh again, and a panicked look crossed her face. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no no no ...
Without a backward glance, she sped from the room, walking quickly down the hallway to her office. Once she was safe inside the Gil-less haven, she sighed and slumped at her desk.
"That would have been nice," she said to herself. "Having an orgasm in the middle of the trace lab because your best friend is innocently touching you." She took a deep, steady breath, but realised that she wasn't going anywhere. She was so revved up with his innocent touches that she was about ready to explode.
She was at the point where she might have had to deal with her problems then and there, but a knock on her door startled her enough to keep her from reaching under her skirt.
"Yeah?" she called.
"Catherine?"
Fuck.
"What do you want, Gil?"
"You, uh, dropped something when you careened from the room."
"What is it?"
"Some sort of shopping list ... carrots, peas, Kleenex, root beer, and ..." he paused.
Something suddenly clicked in Catherine's head, and she leapt up from her seat, sprinted to the door and pulled it forcefully open.
She found herself face to face with Gil, an odd look crossing his features as he glanced from the list to Catherine, and then back to the list.
"... batteries for Grissom Jr.?"
"Uh ..." Catherine snatched the list from Gil's fingers as she searched desperately for an explanation.
"What or who is Grissom Jr.?"
"It's ... erm ... t-the ... the thing. The ... it's ..."
"Cath ..." he whined.
Catherine blushed crimson, her eyes flying wildly to his face as he said her name. Oh, God, she thought, he's pouting.
"No, it's nothing. Just ... an inside joke." She winced. "Just ... never mind. I have to ... shift's over, I have to go home."
She turned swiftly on her heel and ran right into the doorframe, whacking her forehead on the hard metal. She heard herself gasp and she stumbled back into her office.
"Catherine, are you OK?"
"F-fine ... I ... who ..."
"Let me look at that. Maybe you shouldn't be driving."
"No, s'OK. Really. I'm ..." she shook her head slightly, trying to clear it. "I'm fine. I just need to go home."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Catherine grabbed her purse, shoved her list into her coat pocket and brushed past Gil, cursing silently as she went.
Gil arched an eyebrow, watching Catherine as she practically raced down the hallway. Worried, he started after her. She'd hit her head pretty hard, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to be driving home. He frowned when he saw her take a sudden turn into the bathroom as she rummaged through her bag. He was about to follow her, when Sara called his name from the DNA lab.
"Grissom! Hey, could you come here for a second?"
He sighed in exasperation. "What do you need?"
"Can you take a look at this sample? There's seven alleles in common with this other sample, but the suspect said he didn't have any living relatives ..."
"Sara," he said slowly. "What does this have to do with me?"
"I just ..." she faltered. "I was wondering if ..."
"You can figure it out, Sara," he said curtly. She stuttered slightly, turning red and muttering childishly. "I'm off my shift," he stated, and turned back down the hallway.
Catherine had been in the bathroom for nearly five minutes when Gil finally decided to go in.
He was puzzled by the faint buzzing that filled the room. But the next thing he heard seemed to confirm his worst suspicions. Catherine was groaning from the end cubicle, and he was sure she was sick. Fears of concussions and loss of consciousness flooded his brain, and he called her name hesitantly.
"Catherine?"
"Oh, God, Gil ..." came the reply.
"Catherine? Are you alright? Catherine?"
He panicked. She groaned louder, and he rushed towards the door. "Nnnn, Gil ..." she moaned.
"I'm coming, Cath!"
He fiddled with the lock from the outside, growling with impatience as he finally managed to twist it open.
And he found himself face to face with the most unlikely vision he'd ever seen.
Catherine rooted around in her purse until she found it; Grissom Jr. Aptly named 'The Big One,' she'd brought the purple vibrator along with her in order to take it in to have the batteries replaced before shift. Her head ached, but it was nothing compared to the desperate ache of need she felt for Gil.
Within seconds, her skirt was hiked up and her hand found its way to where she needed it the most. That she was in the middle of the public washroom at CSI headquarters didn't matter in the least. The only thing that mattered was that she was beyond horny for Gil, and she couldn't wait any longer.
Lost in sheer bliss, she imagined Gil with her. She imagined that it was indeed Grissom inside her, pushing her closer and closer to oblivion. She could almost hear him calling her name.
"Catherine?"
"Oh, God, Gil," she moaned, arching her back.
"Catherine? Are you alright? Catherine?"
She tried to tell him that she was fine, that she was so close, but all she could manage was "Nnnn, Gil ..."
"I'm coming, Cath," he said.
Catherine gasped, bucking her hips as she neared the edge, frantically pushing her other hand between her legs. "Gil ..." she whimpered.
She heard a click. She felt a draft. She stopped moving, suddenly aware of someone's presence. She slowly opened her eyes, and saw Gil standing, open mouthed, in front of her.
"Oh, fuck," she said.
She couldn't move. She was frozen in place, one hand on Grissom Jr., the other against the wall. She watched as Gil's tongue snaked out and licked his lower lip. Say something, she begged. Anything.
"So ..." he ventured, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. "Is that ..."
"Grissom Jr." she sighed.
"Ah. I see."
"Yeah."
He stood silently for a moment, and Catherine allowed her eyes to break from his, taking him in as he stood in front of her. That was when she found the very evident bulge in his black pants. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Hey, Gil?"
"Hmm?"
Catherine ran a finger down the inside of his thigh, causing him to shudder and gasp. "Do you want to show me the real Grissom Jr.?"
He exhaled sharply as her hand cupped him through his trousers. "I thought you'd never ask."
Catherine grinned and pulled him toward her, her hand contracting around his hardness. His lips touched her neck ever so softly, and he inhaled her scent. She moved her hand and pushed herself against him, his arousal brushing against her in the most incredible way. He pulled back and gazed down at her, lust and desire spilling from his lips as he bent to kiss her.
Her hands immediately tangled in his hair, her tongue pushing desperately past their lips to taste his own. He guided her back to the cubicle wall and thrust against her, his need fuelling his actions as he touched her roughly through her skirt.
Catherine's legs wrapped tight around his waist, and he fumbled desperately with his fly. "God, Catherine," he grunted as she slowly traced the outline of his ear with her tongue.
"Hurry," she whispered desperately. "I need you so bad ..."
Gil growled with frustration and wrenched his pants apart, his hips pushing primally against her core. He groaned as his heated flesh made contact with her warmth through her damp panties, and she pulled his head down to hers to kiss him ravenously.
"Now," she moaned. "Please ..."
He pushed her panties aside, and thrust deep inside her. Catherine cried out and threw her head back, succumbing to intense pleasure as she came, violently. Gil nestled his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, as he began to pump rhythmically into her. Her muscles contracted around him as she tightened her grip on his hips, her pelvis thrusting hard in time with his.
"Oh, Catherine ... you are ..." He struggled to form a coherent thought as her lips found his neck. "I ... you just ..."
"Hmm?" she murmured, and Gil groaned as she squeezed him tightly from within.
"So ... good ..." he managed.
His hands found hers, and he gripped them with an almost fierce intensity, fingers entwining and interlacing as he burried himself as deep as possible within her warmth. She groaned against his lips, her back arching as he sped up. She felt him withdraw, and opened her heavy-lidded eyes, meeting his darkened gaze.
"Gil ..."
He held her gaze as his rhythm faltered, and he thrust once more, deep within her, her name cascading from his lips as she felt him tense and explode. She fell over the edge once again with a startled gasp, her fingers tightening against his shoulders as wave after wave of burning desire coursed through her.
Her body spasmed pleasantly as he shifted and withdrew, easing her down from his waist. She kept her hands around his neck and sighed blissfully as he kissed her forehead gently.
"Wow," she breathed.
Gil chuckled and bent to pick Grissom Jr. up from the floor. He turned it over in his hands, a wry smile forming on his face as he turned back to Catherine. "Do you still think you need this?"
Catherine laughed and ran her hand across Gil's cheek. "After experiencing the real Grissom Jr., I don't think I'll ever be able to go back."
END
Author: Emily
Rating: R
Category: CG smutacular!
Dedicated to Gomes for the ideas, and Anne for the motivation, and to Caroline for keeping count (what's the tally now? Ten trillion and three??), and to all of them for waiting ... well, semi-patiently, at least, for some smut. Cheers!
"Find anything?" he asked as he leaned over her shoulder to watch her progress.
"Yeah, a whole boatload of bupkis," she replied humourlessly. She was mad and touchy and frustrated.
Actually, frustrated just about summed up her mood that evening. Frustrated with the city for making her rush the crime scene, frustrated with the lack of evidence, frustrated with the cadets, most of whom couldn't find a murder weapon if it smacked them in the face.
Of course, these were merely annoyances compared to Gil. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, but it seemed as though every other minute, he was brushing up against her, accidentally touching her or hovering around her, and it was driving her insane.
With desire.
How long had she known Gil? In days, months or years ... it really didn't matter. The fact was, she had always been attracted to him. And in the past little while, they had been flirting non-stop, little glances and amusing banter, minute touches that sent shivers down her spine. And now, here he was, leaning over her shoulder as she dusted the interior of the car for prints, and she could smell his soap. She had to physically fight herself to keep her body from pushing back against him.
And when he reached around her to grab his kit, his hand brushing ever so slightly against the small of her back, she almost betrayed herself by letting out a groan. She managed to swallow it just in time, taking a deep breath as she heard Gil's footsteps retreat.
It was going to be a long night.
Catherine bent over the microscope, peering at the fibres Warrick had found on the victim. She looked up long enough to scribble a brief note about the cross-section, but her gaze fell instead on a shadow in the doorway.
Holy hell, she thought. He's wearing a leather jacket.
"Getting anywhere?"
Getting hornier by the minute, said the voice inside her head.
"Warrick found some red fibres on the victim's jacket, which have a triangular cross-section."
"Car upholstery?"
"That's what I'm thinking."
"Ah."
He walked around the table and stood beside her, his arm brushing hers as he leaned over the microscope. Catherine stepped back, and was suddenly treated to one of the most arousing views she'd ever witnessed: Gil's ass in tight jeans.
This time she couldn't help it. A low moan escaped her lips, and Gil peered over his shoulder at her.
"You OK?"
Hell no. You're making me so hot ...
"Uh, yeah. Just ... stretching."
He nodded and smiled slightly before turning back to the microscope. "Did you get a look at this tear in the fabric?" he asked.
"Tear? No. Let me see," she said, summoning the courage to approach him again. She looked into the microscope at the frayed end of the fabric.
And that was when things started to unravel.
A touch on her thigh. A breath on her neck. The smell of his leather jacket, mixed with the smell that could only be described as Gil.
Houston, we have a problem.
The gasp rose in her throat, and pushed it's way past her lips. Her head jerked up as his hand brushed her thigh again, and a panicked look crossed her face. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no no no ...
Without a backward glance, she sped from the room, walking quickly down the hallway to her office. Once she was safe inside the Gil-less haven, she sighed and slumped at her desk.
"That would have been nice," she said to herself. "Having an orgasm in the middle of the trace lab because your best friend is innocently touching you." She took a deep, steady breath, but realised that she wasn't going anywhere. She was so revved up with his innocent touches that she was about ready to explode.
She was at the point where she might have had to deal with her problems then and there, but a knock on her door startled her enough to keep her from reaching under her skirt.
"Yeah?" she called.
"Catherine?"
Fuck.
"What do you want, Gil?"
"You, uh, dropped something when you careened from the room."
"What is it?"
"Some sort of shopping list ... carrots, peas, Kleenex, root beer, and ..." he paused.
Something suddenly clicked in Catherine's head, and she leapt up from her seat, sprinted to the door and pulled it forcefully open.
She found herself face to face with Gil, an odd look crossing his features as he glanced from the list to Catherine, and then back to the list.
"... batteries for Grissom Jr.?"
"Uh ..." Catherine snatched the list from Gil's fingers as she searched desperately for an explanation.
"What or who is Grissom Jr.?"
"It's ... erm ... t-the ... the thing. The ... it's ..."
"Cath ..." he whined.
Catherine blushed crimson, her eyes flying wildly to his face as he said her name. Oh, God, she thought, he's pouting.
"No, it's nothing. Just ... an inside joke." She winced. "Just ... never mind. I have to ... shift's over, I have to go home."
She turned swiftly on her heel and ran right into the doorframe, whacking her forehead on the hard metal. She heard herself gasp and she stumbled back into her office.
"Catherine, are you OK?"
"F-fine ... I ... who ..."
"Let me look at that. Maybe you shouldn't be driving."
"No, s'OK. Really. I'm ..." she shook her head slightly, trying to clear it. "I'm fine. I just need to go home."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Catherine grabbed her purse, shoved her list into her coat pocket and brushed past Gil, cursing silently as she went.
Gil arched an eyebrow, watching Catherine as she practically raced down the hallway. Worried, he started after her. She'd hit her head pretty hard, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to be driving home. He frowned when he saw her take a sudden turn into the bathroom as she rummaged through her bag. He was about to follow her, when Sara called his name from the DNA lab.
"Grissom! Hey, could you come here for a second?"
He sighed in exasperation. "What do you need?"
"Can you take a look at this sample? There's seven alleles in common with this other sample, but the suspect said he didn't have any living relatives ..."
"Sara," he said slowly. "What does this have to do with me?"
"I just ..." she faltered. "I was wondering if ..."
"You can figure it out, Sara," he said curtly. She stuttered slightly, turning red and muttering childishly. "I'm off my shift," he stated, and turned back down the hallway.
Catherine had been in the bathroom for nearly five minutes when Gil finally decided to go in.
He was puzzled by the faint buzzing that filled the room. But the next thing he heard seemed to confirm his worst suspicions. Catherine was groaning from the end cubicle, and he was sure she was sick. Fears of concussions and loss of consciousness flooded his brain, and he called her name hesitantly.
"Catherine?"
"Oh, God, Gil ..." came the reply.
"Catherine? Are you alright? Catherine?"
He panicked. She groaned louder, and he rushed towards the door. "Nnnn, Gil ..." she moaned.
"I'm coming, Cath!"
He fiddled with the lock from the outside, growling with impatience as he finally managed to twist it open.
And he found himself face to face with the most unlikely vision he'd ever seen.
Catherine rooted around in her purse until she found it; Grissom Jr. Aptly named 'The Big One,' she'd brought the purple vibrator along with her in order to take it in to have the batteries replaced before shift. Her head ached, but it was nothing compared to the desperate ache of need she felt for Gil.
Within seconds, her skirt was hiked up and her hand found its way to where she needed it the most. That she was in the middle of the public washroom at CSI headquarters didn't matter in the least. The only thing that mattered was that she was beyond horny for Gil, and she couldn't wait any longer.
Lost in sheer bliss, she imagined Gil with her. She imagined that it was indeed Grissom inside her, pushing her closer and closer to oblivion. She could almost hear him calling her name.
"Catherine?"
"Oh, God, Gil," she moaned, arching her back.
"Catherine? Are you alright? Catherine?"
She tried to tell him that she was fine, that she was so close, but all she could manage was "Nnnn, Gil ..."
"I'm coming, Cath," he said.
Catherine gasped, bucking her hips as she neared the edge, frantically pushing her other hand between her legs. "Gil ..." she whimpered.
She heard a click. She felt a draft. She stopped moving, suddenly aware of someone's presence. She slowly opened her eyes, and saw Gil standing, open mouthed, in front of her.
"Oh, fuck," she said.
She couldn't move. She was frozen in place, one hand on Grissom Jr., the other against the wall. She watched as Gil's tongue snaked out and licked his lower lip. Say something, she begged. Anything.
"So ..." he ventured, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. "Is that ..."
"Grissom Jr." she sighed.
"Ah. I see."
"Yeah."
He stood silently for a moment, and Catherine allowed her eyes to break from his, taking him in as he stood in front of her. That was when she found the very evident bulge in his black pants. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Hey, Gil?"
"Hmm?"
Catherine ran a finger down the inside of his thigh, causing him to shudder and gasp. "Do you want to show me the real Grissom Jr.?"
He exhaled sharply as her hand cupped him through his trousers. "I thought you'd never ask."
Catherine grinned and pulled him toward her, her hand contracting around his hardness. His lips touched her neck ever so softly, and he inhaled her scent. She moved her hand and pushed herself against him, his arousal brushing against her in the most incredible way. He pulled back and gazed down at her, lust and desire spilling from his lips as he bent to kiss her.
Her hands immediately tangled in his hair, her tongue pushing desperately past their lips to taste his own. He guided her back to the cubicle wall and thrust against her, his need fuelling his actions as he touched her roughly through her skirt.
Catherine's legs wrapped tight around his waist, and he fumbled desperately with his fly. "God, Catherine," he grunted as she slowly traced the outline of his ear with her tongue.
"Hurry," she whispered desperately. "I need you so bad ..."
Gil growled with frustration and wrenched his pants apart, his hips pushing primally against her core. He groaned as his heated flesh made contact with her warmth through her damp panties, and she pulled his head down to hers to kiss him ravenously.
"Now," she moaned. "Please ..."
He pushed her panties aside, and thrust deep inside her. Catherine cried out and threw her head back, succumbing to intense pleasure as she came, violently. Gil nestled his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, as he began to pump rhythmically into her. Her muscles contracted around him as she tightened her grip on his hips, her pelvis thrusting hard in time with his.
"Oh, Catherine ... you are ..." He struggled to form a coherent thought as her lips found his neck. "I ... you just ..."
"Hmm?" she murmured, and Gil groaned as she squeezed him tightly from within.
"So ... good ..." he managed.
His hands found hers, and he gripped them with an almost fierce intensity, fingers entwining and interlacing as he burried himself as deep as possible within her warmth. She groaned against his lips, her back arching as he sped up. She felt him withdraw, and opened her heavy-lidded eyes, meeting his darkened gaze.
"Gil ..."
He held her gaze as his rhythm faltered, and he thrust once more, deep within her, her name cascading from his lips as she felt him tense and explode. She fell over the edge once again with a startled gasp, her fingers tightening against his shoulders as wave after wave of burning desire coursed through her.
Her body spasmed pleasantly as he shifted and withdrew, easing her down from his waist. She kept her hands around his neck and sighed blissfully as he kissed her forehead gently.
"Wow," she breathed.
Gil chuckled and bent to pick Grissom Jr. up from the floor. He turned it over in his hands, a wry smile forming on his face as he turned back to Catherine. "Do you still think you need this?"
Catherine laughed and ran her hand across Gil's cheek. "After experiencing the real Grissom Jr., I don't think I'll ever be able to go back."
END