(disclaimers et all in first chapter)

A/N: I know I don't say this enough, but I just want to thank everyone's kind words. Your reviews do mean a lot to me. Merci. :)

Chapter Seven

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Unbuttoning his shirt, he let it slide down his shoulders, cringing as the abrasive material rubbed against his broken skin. Reaching for the hem, he slowly peeled off his undershirt, feeling fragments of embedded glass tearing from his skin.

Catherine listened as he emitted a slight hissing sound - one of his fewer moments of vulnerability. "Gil..." She breathed out, stepping inside the office.

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in her being, poised at the entrance of his office. The closing of the door synced with him casting gaze away from her, as he returned his stare to the wall in front of him, trying control all the conflicting emotions and sensations that were terrorizing his body.

"Is this from - "

" - yeah." He cut her off, rotating his shoulders slightly to work out the protecting tension. "Just a little sore."

A few steps forward led her closer to him, slashed and bruised back the only thing offering a greeting. Her fingers lightly grazed his bare back, her being flinching as much as his form, but she still pressed on, needing some form of contact to boast self-assurance of his existence. The distance that now lay between, ever growing with maximal increments, kept pushing him into the fading horizon, leaving him almost invisible to her straining eyes. "I um...I never got to thank you." Silence once again fell between them, and she averted her eyes when he turned to look at her over his shoulder. She spied a bottle of rubbing alcohol, wrapped tightly in a crisp pharmacy receipt. As she extracted the bottle from the paper confines, she noted the small bag of cotton balls that lay opened on his desk. Plucking one ball from the bag, she broke the seal and poured a bit of the liquid on to it. She turned to face him, "this is going to sting a little," she warned, before gently dabbing his wounds.

The tension remained, despite the nurturing tone that her intentions held. Gil shivered slightly, feeling her breath hit his naked back. He flinched as the solution was absorbed by the cuts, stinging away the infection.

"...thank you for saving me." She continued her previous thought, gently rubbing his back with the cotton ball. She tossed the worn out one in the trash can and pulled out another one, repeating the same steps of care. "If you hadn't been there, I would have been part of a very unfortunate menage à trois - "

" - Catherine." He interrupted her sharply, not wanting such thought nor image to enter his mind. "It was nothing, I...I would do it again, in a heartbeat." Though awkward in his delivery, his honesty stopped her movements cold. Sighing against her hands as they once again became animate, he revelled in her soothing intentions. He braved the sting of the alcohol - the cruel reality that love's loss had been so near.

Her hand's speed picked up slightly as she tended his wounds. "That should do it." She said, bending down to apply the rubbing alcohol over the last gash on his lower back. "At least there's less chance of infection, though I still think you should have seen the paramedics.

"I did stop by." He replied, almost childishly as he reached for his shirt but feeling the softness of her hand instead.

"It was a hit-and-run, Gil. You practically body-checked them out of the way and made a dash towards your car."

He glanced over his shoulder again, looking at her with a saddened stare. "I didn't need their help."

"Needing and wanting are two different states, Gil."

"So is Nevada and Utah, but it's just 'one-step-across-the-border' away."

She rolled her eyes, trying hard to deal with his stubborn mood. Nervously chewing her lower lip, she held up his shirt, openly inviting him to an easy redress.

The position granted him the least pain possible as he tightly swung his arms back, allowing her to slip the garment on. His eyes traced the thin lines that separated the linoleum floor, granting him an escape from the embarrassment of looking in her eyes.

Her hands made way from his shoulders to the front of his chest where she now stood facing him. She looked at him while his eyes refused to return the favour, and she pressed her lips together, curbing any thoughts from spilling out.

Had his back not deny any movement, he would have brushed away her caring nature, but his bruises granted him nothing but utter stillness, allowing her soft hands to make way of each of his shirt's buttons. He chanced a look in her direction, catching her at an unguarded moment of focus. His eyes soaked her beauty, absorbing her distinctive features. His gaze rested on her distracted stare, though immediately noticing the wheels of thought turning - reflecting in her eyes. He sighed, his stomach clenching with a tingle as her fingers brushed against his skin.

Her eyes raised, levelling with his stare as her fingers busied with the last of his buttons. Objective obtained, her grasp remained holding on to the hem of his clothing as her gaze remained conflicting with his.

The pull was stronger than he expected and he almost watched himself in slow-motion, leaning in as his lips hovered over hers.

She saw his intent: dark pools staring at her lips as they slowly parted. She gripped the bottom of his shirt tighter, pulling him towards her. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she felt his breath hit her lips.

He paused, caught in lingo between lust and fear. Eyes open, he watcher her awaiting features. His being ached to collide with hers, wanting to feel the softness of her skin sliding against his body. But he couldn't - he wouldn't allow himself to become an ex: ex-partner, ex-lover...ex-friend. He couldn't take that risk, knowing his heart wouldn't survive such a blow.

Her eyes fluttered open, dread etched in her blues as she felt hesitation's breath his her mouth. She watched him as he stood in suspended thought, knowing that somewhere deep, desire's dormant state had awakened. But something more powerful was stopping him: something she was sure he didn't fully comprehend.

He glanced down the second his pager wailed, taking a step back from her form. "Hodges." He informed her lamely, staring at her lips - too cowardly to meet her intense gaze.

She now watched his retreating form exiting, leaving her feeling strangely in company with his figment shadow.

–TBC–