Chapter 8

Entomology Lesson

Gil felt apprehension growing with every passing minute as he rushed around his home confirming things were tidy before letting her in. He'd always been obsessively neat at home (except where the contents of the refrigerator was concerned), but something about knowing Sara was coming made him go the extra mile to make sure the toilet was thoroughly spotless. Unfortunately he'd gone a little overzealous in his attempt and used a little too much, causing the whole bathroom to be engulfed by the rancid scent of the stuff.

The counters of the kitchen area were scrubbed until they might possibly sparkle, and he tried to rearrange the food and drinks in his fridge as best he could – hiding any weird experiments he'd forgotten about several months earlier – in case she should just happen to look in there.

What's the big deal? He asked himself. She's been here before. Granted, she didn't spend enough time to stand and look around and study the surroundings, but she's been here. She won't care if the counter tops are clean. She probably won't be anywhere near them.

He spent some time staring into his cupboards and fridge feeling ever so slightly annoyed with himself that he hadn't been prepared for this. He'd said he'd cook, but now he was beginning to feel apprehensive that whatever he cooked might be insufficient. He decided to wait until she arrived before he decided what he could cook for her.

It was approaching sunset when he heard the doorbell. He wiped his hands off on a dishcloth that he tossed onto his shoulder temporarily, he deliberately turned off his cellular phone and turned the ring volume off on his landline phone – he didn't need any disruptions tonight. If he had more work disruption, he was certain Sara might wish to call the whole thing off.

He answered the door with a nervous smile, Sara stood at his door in jeans that seemed to do nothing but accent how slim her long legs were, and a black t-shirt that had some band name on it that Gil didn't recognise. Her hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail, a few tendrils loose, wispy around her face. Sara looked undeniably beautiful despite how casual as she'd come dressed.

In fact, he adored the fact she'd come so natural. Being a woman, she might have felt compelled to make some effort to put on a nice dress and spend an hour doing her hair before coming over, but she looked more casual than she even did at work. It made him love her all the more.

"Hey," Sara smiled, she held up a bag with a local DVD rental shop logo in bright yellow across it, "movies," she handed the bag to him.

"What'd you rent?" He asked casually as he let her in and closed the door behind her, he opened the bag and pulled the movies out.

"Uh…" Sara paused, "The Ring, Cold Creek Manor, and Pirates of the Caribbean," she answered. "I don't know what kind of movies you like, so I just chose whatever stood out on the shelves," she added, she sniffed the air, "have you been using bleach?" she asked. "A lot of bleach?"

"I spilled some on the bathroom floor," he lied, even as he said it he immediately felt stupid. If she went to that bathroom, she'd know he hadn't spilled the bleach, the toilet was practically glowing in the dark and the floor – which was incredibly dingy despite several years of mopping - had no noticeably clean spots on it that could be blamed on bleach.

Sara didn't seem to care about the bleach fiasco at all, she shrugged, "I brought this," she raised her other hand, a bottle of white wine clutched tightly in her fist.

"Are you driving?" Gil asked, he hated himself for letting this be the first thing that passed his lips after her having generously brought a bottle of wine over, but he couldn't help but still feel that very tiny bit concerned.

Sara looked at him, "does it matter?" she asked, she handed him the bottle.

"I just…" he couldn't find a way to explain this one away. He swore mentally at himself beginning to think he might have just ruined the evening by letting his mouth run ahead of him.

"I got the bus," Sara smiled wryly, "is that okay with you?"

"Yes…" Gil sighed a little, "I'm sorry, I just…"

"It's okay…I know…" she nodded, "You think I have a drinking problem…"

Gil didn't say anything. He wanted to say what was on his mind. No, I know you have a problem. He carried the bottle of wine over to the kitchen area, and he took out two glasses, "Sara, I need to ask you something…" he said, he opened the wine.

"Why do I drink?" Sara asked without a beat, as if she'd expected it to be hins next question, "I don't know, Gil, I'd really just rather drop it."

"Actually, uhm, no," Gil said, rather flustered now.

Sara looked at him, blankly.

"What I wanted to say was…uhm…I don't know what to make you…for dinner I mean…" he leaned on the counter for a moment, "I know you said you're a vegetarian, but…some vegetarians eat fish…" he trailed off, "others…don't even eat dairy…" he explained.

"Oh," Sara looked away, her expression sheepish, "I'm vegetarian, not vegan," she stated. "I can eat dairy."

"Oh, that's good…then is tagliatelle to your liking?" he asked.

"That's fine," Sara nodded, she seemed to be surprised he could even cook.

"I can see by the look on your face that you're kind of amused – or surprised – that I can cook…" Gil said.

"No offence, I just figured that most bachelors ate out of their microwaves," Sara responded, she smirked a little. "It's kind of daunting that you can cook better than I can," she admitted.

Gil chuckled, "well…while other women were cooking for their boyfriends you were probably at a shooting range working on your aim," he said.

Sara nodded, "actually, that's pretty true," she moved over.

Gil poured the wine, he handed her a glass, "make yourself comfortable, start one of the movies if you like, I'll take care of dinner."

Sara brushed a lock of her hair back behind her ear, it had come loose of her ponytail, "mind if I take a look around?"

Actually, yes, I do, he thought. But I better not say that, or you'll think I'm crazy for having invited you over in the first place.

"You've been here before," Gil said, he took a tub of cream out of the fridge.

"Yeah, but I never looked around…do you mind?"

"Not at all…just…don't go into the bathroom yet…you'd probably choke on the smell of spilt bleach," he confessed.

Sara gave a soft laugh, "okay…"

Gil tried to make his preparation of dinner rather quick, the sauce was the harder part, but he got it done, every now and then he would glance over the counter to see her wandering. Soon, she was at the wall by the window just left of his couch, admiring all the different butterflies he had framed upon the plain wall.

"I never noticed these the last time I was here," Sara said, she was holding her glass of wine still. Gil was relieved to see she'd only drank half of it, instead of gulping the entire glass down as she'd done weeks earlier in the Chinese restaurant.

"Usually they're the first thing someone notices when they walk in," Gil admitted, "Catherine says they draw the eye because they're probably the only thing in the place that has any real 'colour' in it," he added, giving a wry smile.

"This one's beautiful," Sara said, gesturing to one butterfly in particular.

Gil left his sauce simmering, and he moved over to see which butterfly she was referring to, a butterfly with brilliant orange and jet wings. "Ah…Speyeria nokomis apacheana" he noted, "Commonly known as Western Steep Fritillary. This is a male," he said, "the females are black and yellow-green…"

"Dimorphism," Sara replied, "Like spiders. The female is different from the male," she sipped her wine. "What's this one," She pointed to another.

"Limenitis bredowii californicus…" he answered, "known as California Sister. It gets its' common name because the black and white colouration on its' forewings resemble that of a nun's habit," he smirked.

Sara smirked a little too.

"This one here," Gil said, he stood behind her a little, raising his hand over her shoulder to gesture towards a particular butterfly, "is Zaretis itys…the Leaf Wing butterfly. I love the design of its' wings, it becomes virtually invisible against any foliage with slightly dry leaves."

Sara leaned back into him a little, she turned to look at him, her glance meaningful.

Gil felt that old nervousness reappear, he tried to press on and remain calm, "Uh…this, uh…butterfly here," he gestured towards another, "they call it the owl butterfly, because…well, it's marking, like an owls giant amber eyes…" he was very aware of how his voice had become a lot higher in his tension. The closer she got to him, the more he felt it building up.

Sara nodded, and Gil found himself wondering if she was actually interested in any of this at all. She leaned in even closer until her shoulder was pressing against his chest, she turned to look at him again.

"They're usually, uh…only really active, around…you know…dawn and dusk," he added.

"Just like us in our line of work," Sara mused.

"Is this boring you at all?" Gil asked, concerned now, he cleared his throat a little.

"Nope," Sara replied, she sipped her wine.

"It's just…Cath said something along the lines of my harping on about bugs it's like…smothering someone with a chloroform soaked rag," he chuckled.

Sara laughed at this, "I can see why she would think that…but…well…it doesn't bother me," she confessed, she kept her eyes on him, "you seem nervous again."

"I'm fine," he forced a smile, "Just fine."

"Good," Sara turned fully towards him, she tenderly slid her arms around his neck, still holding the glass of wine in one hand precariously. This move was very bold, and Gil hadn't been ready for it. He felt very inadequate and blundering as he attempted to confidently put his arms around her waist.

Are we going to kiss now? He thought in a panic. I'm not sure I'm ready for this yet – the tagliatelle sauce is nearly ready.

"I really, uh…should cook the pasta," Gil responded.

"In a minute," she nodded, and leaned into kiss him.

Her lips never got there, because Gil heard his front door closing, and he realised he'd left it unlocked – again. He pushed her away quickly instinctively, which caused her to spill some of the wine on the tile floor.

"Gil…what…?" she asked confusedly.

Catherine Willows appeared from the small hallway, "Your door was open – again," she said to Gil, "you know, just anyone could walk in here," she said.

Gil looked to the ceiling in disbelief. Why now? Why did Catherine have to show up now? Wasn't she meant to be working.

"Hey…what's goin' on here?" Catherine asked, gesturing to the wine on the kitchen counter and the smell of sauce cooking on the stove.

Gil said the first thing that came to his head, "entomology lesson. Cath, aren't you meant to be at work?"

"Yes, actually I am," Catherine responded, she sniffed the air, "do I smell bleach?"

"Yes, I spilled some," Gil responded quickly, "why are you here when you're meant to be working."

"I tried to call, but your cell phone is off and your house phone just rang and rang…" Catherine explained, "you took home files I need for the case I'm working on," she said.

"Oh…right…the Delany case and the Treiger case…" Gil felt like slapping himself on the head and doing a very good impression of Homer Simpson.

"Yes," Catherine said, "could I have them please?"

Sara grabbed a strip of kitchen paper from the roll on the counter, and knelt down on the floor to wipe up the spilt wine.

Gil was incredibly aware of how Catherine was watching Sara with a suspicious eye. He moved over to the coffee table where he'd left the folders and picked them up, "Here you go," he moved over and handed them to her quickly.

"So…entomology lesson, huh?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, entomology lesson," Gil said, he put his hands on Catherine's shoulders from behind and began to guide her down the hall.

"Over wine?" Catherine asked when they were in the small hall, slightly out of earshot of Sara.

"You and me have had drinks over murder cases," Gil responded, a little annoyed she was being so incredibly meddlesome.

"Right…" Catherine said, but she didn't look like she believed him for one minute, "I'll see you at work tomorrow," she said, she waved with a smug expression on her face, and she left.

Gil deliberately locked the door behind her, and he stood with his back against the door for some moments, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.

"Is she gone?"

Sara was standing at the other end of the small hallway, looking at him concernedly.

"Yes," Gil nodded, "she's gone. God, I can't believe she just walked in…without even knocking…"

Sara folded her arms insecurely, "I think she knew, Gil."

"Probably."

"Entomology lesson?" Sara asked.

Gil sighed, "Well…it was the first thing that came to mind…"