"Gil," I whine.
"I have a blindfold."
"Then you'll be using it," I quip. I understand he wants it to be a surprise, but it still makes me rather annoyed. Then I can't think. His hands are deftly tying the blindfold around my head. Then his hands slide lower, and lower still, until they snake around my torso making me moan out, "Fuck… Oh, Damn it Gil!" His fingers carefully withdraw, and I'm filled with loss, and a longing.
I hear a door open, and fingers gently press into the small of my back, guiding me. I move slightly when Gil withdraws his hand, telling me to stop. I can't hear anything, feel anything, until he seems to understand, I need the contact, and he gently entwines our fingers. I sigh contentedly as the floor moves beneath my feet, and I realize we're in an elevator. When we stop, fingers gently lead me toward the exit.
"Open your eyes."
I whip off the blindfold to see the most breath taking view of the city. I turn my head and see a candlelit dinner for two is set, and I turn to Gil, smiling. "I can't believe you went to all of this trouble! It's beautiful." He smiles nervously, and gestures to the table.
The meal was delicious, and the wine was excellent. I'm glad the Gil knows me as well as he does, but the again seven years of friendship can do that. I open my mouth to speak, but Gil is nowhere in sight. I stand and spin, my dress whirling around me, and… there he is. He looks sick, I'm about to call to him when he sees me. He smiles, walks over, and says "sit".
"Damn it Gil, I'm not a dog," but I sit anyway.
He pulls his chair in front of mine, takes a deep breath, and slowly begins to speak. "Catherine, for seven years we've been friends. You've told me things I don't think you've ever told anyone else, and made me say things and tell you things I would never tell anyone. After about four years, I began to fall in love with you. Now… now… I know what it's like to have you in the most intimate ways, and I don't want to give that up, give you up. I love you, Catherine Willows, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
I sit in stunned silence as I process what I've just been asked. When my brain finally does manage to process it, all I can do is stare. Do I really want this? Would my daughter be happy to come home to find that I was engaged? How would we handle the situation at work? What would we tell everyone?
What am I thinking about? I've been waiting forever for this!
"Yes, Gil. I'd love to be your wife."
He takes out the most beautiful ring I've ever seen, and slips it on my finger. An emerald. Only he would know that. Only he would know that this is the one stone I wanted on my engagement ring.
"Gil, this is perfect! I love it, I love you." My voice softens on the last words, and I smile, "Now honey, lets go home. I need to be with you."
He smiles, "To Oz then Dorothy."
Well? Please R&R, or no more story. For the next chapter, lemons, limes, or should I stay the hell out of the fruit bowl? If you have no clue what that means it's... graphic sex (lemons), non-graphic sex (limes), or no sex (stay the hell out of the fruit). I need your opinions!!!!!!!!!!!!!