Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Wish they were, but they're not. Que Sera Sera.
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Brass
WWWWWWWWWW
I never really thought of her as hot before, but as I try not to stare at her while she's bending over, picking up her kit…………..she's got a nice ass. I wonder what her reaction would be if I asked her out, just for lunch or something, just the two of us. Just she and I, no Catherine, no Grissom, just the two of us. Maybe I should make it more personal. Maybe I should cook for her. I can cook, I'm a damn good cook, if I do say so, myself, and I do. I can cook Italian, Tex/Mex, Vegetarian, and I make a mean ambrosia. I know she likes it because every time I bring it in for lunch, when I put it in the fridge its full and when I get to it its about half full. I caught her once, caught her in the act. Her mouth was full so all she could do was stare at me guiltily and offer a sort of smile. Its settled, then. I'll invite her over for breakfast, which is actually more of a dinner, but who cares, I'll have her alone and we can talk about things we wouldn't be able to discuss with the rest of the gang around.
We're close, don't get me wrong. We've spent the night at each other's places on more than one occasion and we've even shared a bed a couple of times, mainly because her couch is too small to sleep on. I swear, those nights it took all my strength to keep my hands to myself. I even resorted to sleeping above the flat sheet so there would be no skin on skin contact. She kept plying me to come under with her, but in the interest of not wanting to be thought of as some old pervert, I elected the flannel barrier which proved to be incredibly sexually frustrating because she exercised no restraint whatsoever. On more than one occasion I'd wake in the night, her arm around my waist, her head on my chest, her hand on my thigh, dangerously close to………..well, you get it.
Oh, shit, I've been nailed. From her bending position she looks at me and grins that grin that just says "you like what you see?" Stepping behind the door for a brief moment, I adjust myself, then enter the room. As I stand beside her, its harder than I would have thought to ask her out. God, she smells great, like a combination of cantaloupe and honeydew melon…………..mmmmmmmm, her shampoo….I love it. Ugh, I just want to reach out and hug her, my face buried in her lovely brown hair, her body pressed to mine……………on second thought that might not be such a good idea right now given my body's reaction to her slightly prone position. (naughty thoughts abound)
I remember the first time I spent the night over at her place, it was right after the "Hank Fiasco" as its been come to be called. I had just come home after a long shift and was tired as hell, but when the phone rang and I saw the caller ID, I picked up and heard her crying. Sometimes I wonder why it was me that she called, but hindsight being 20/20, I know why. She couldn't very well call Grissom, as much as he might care, he's incredibly emotionally detached from everyone around him. I guess he's afraid to let people get too close to him and risk getting burned in some way, shape or form. She couldn't call Greg, he's got the hots for her. Nick would have been an acceptable choice, but he's more like a brother than anything else. Warrick would have probably went out and beat the living snot out of Hank and Catherine, well she's got her own issues. That left me. Since she came to Vegas I kind of took it upon myself to look out for her. I saw and still see a lot of potential in her even though her life choices aren't always the best ones. It hit me in the heart to hear her sobbing over that loser and even though I was set for bed, I changed into some jeans and t-shirt and drove the ten minutes to her place. When she opened the door her face was streaked with tears and I offered her the box of tissues that I had brought with me. Taking them from me, she broke out into a full out bawl, motioning for me to come in and close the door behind me. We settled on the couch, my back to the arm rest and she between my legs, my arms wrapped around her protectively. She cried some more and then after about an hour or so I could hear her softly snoring, still clinging to my arms.
Slowly and carefully, I got up and carried her to her room and just as I set her in bed she opened her eyes and asked me to keep her company. As I kicked off my shoes she climbed under the covers and I lay on my back, under the covers. She rolled over and rested her head on my chest as I rubbed her back to soothe her. I remember how good it felt to hold her, just content to lay there with her, beside her, and simply hold her. We both fell asleep in a fairly short period of time and when I woke, her head still on my chest, her hand above my heart, I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. I think it was then that I realized that I had certain feelings for her, feelings that I, as a colleague, probably shouldn't have toward another colleague.
When she woke it was midday, and as we had the next couple of days off and I was in no real hurry to get back home. I have no pets, no plants, nothing that required my immediate attention. So, even though we were both awake, we stay in bed for quite some time and when we finally managed to climb from the comfort of the flannel sheets it was nearly dark out. We had a quiet night and after supper I asked her if she wanted me to stay, for comfort purposes and she said that she did. I ran back home for a change of clothes and shower and returned about an hour later with an overnight bag that she stashed in her bedroom closet.
When we finally did manage to actually talk, she went on and on about how he was cheating on her and how she was so blind to it. She said she was stupid and that she should have known, being the sort of detective that she was. I told her of my own experiences with cheating partners and how I was and probably would be for quite some time, be single by choice. I've had opportunities to date, but they were mostly shallow women that thought of little else than themselves. I look at looks last, my primary attraction being to one's mind than their body or physical attributes. Looks will get you only so far in life. Without a brain or personality you won't get very far.
That brings me to my current predicament. Her kit on the table in front of her, I take a cautious step towards her and she doesn't move. I take another step and this time I place one hand on the edge of the table and the other on her back, rubbing lightly. She gives a little moan and lets her head hang down as I massage the knots from her left shoulder. This is very encouraging. I'ma go for it. Turning to her, I take a breath and smile.
"You wanna go out some time? You know, just the two of us? Dinner and maybe a movie or something?"
She turns slowly to face me and I'm floored.
"I thought we were already going out." She says, placing a kiss on my cheek
Blush!