Title: Sticks and StonesChapter 3

Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. If they did, things would most certainly be different.

Spoiler(s): Weeping Willows

Last chapter ended with……………….

"I sense a 'but' coming on." He said and heard her sigh.

"It's just, I know you and even if you don't regret it right now, you will, later."

"Thank you, for washing my clothes." Gil said to change the subject.

"They smelled like stale beer and cigarettes. I don't much care for that smell and I figured you didn't either." Catherine replied. He wondered if it was a veiled reference to Eddie. He disliked the thought of being even remotely similar to Eddie and finally decided it could just as easily been a reference to her time as a stripper. She stood up and walked into the living room, he heard the sliding glass door open and close, indicating she had gone outside.

"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into." He mused aloud. He wasn't quite certain how or why the events of the day transpired as they had. He'd merely wanted to blow off some steam and convinced Brass to join him for a couple of beers. A couple had turned into many, with some shots of scotch thrown in, then Brass told him to talk to Catherine. Brass probably expected him to sober up first, but Gil was intent on taking his advice. So, when he got in the cab, he gave Catherine's address instead of his own.

The next thing he clearly recalled, he was emptying his pockets on her dresser. Then, he'd sat down in the chair by the dresser to take off his shoes and socks. Her robe was draped over the arm; he fingered the soft silky material for a moment, enjoying the feel of it against his fingertips. Overwhelmed by the desire to feel her skin against his, he stripped his shirt off then his pants and climbed in her bed.

Why she didn't just boot him out, he didn't know. Her initial irritation turned into vulnerability. He remembered how it was, although technically he was already a supervisor at the time. Without Brass to run interference for him, he had been uncertain and afraid. Wishing only to comfort her, he'd turned her face toward him, caressed her cheek with his thumb then kissed her. That kiss became one of many, gradually increasing in intensity until she was lying beneath him. He closed his eyes and could still feel her hands gliding over his back, caressing him, while he kissed her neck and the tops of her breasts. He lost himself in the sensation of touching her until her hands slid into his boxers. Somewhere along the way, her short nightgown had been pushed over her head and discarded by the side of the bed. She grasped an ass cheek in each hand and kneaded. When her hands slipped along his hips seeking his front, he eased up on an elbow and caught one in his.

"I'm afraid nobody's home down there." Her eyes met his, full of question.

"Too much beer." He offered in explanation. She nodded slightly, understanding. She was so beautiful, lying there in only her panties, hair spread on the pillow. He untangled his hand, ran it along her hip and up her side to cup her breast. Desiring nothing more than pleasing her, he resumed his ministrations.

He didn't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing but he had a biology degree, was well versed in human anatomy and had read a book or two containing sections on oral sex. Actually, he had read a number of books about sex, telling himself it was research for the job, and not his own insecurity in the bedroom. It was more difficult to get her panties off than to explore her private regions. Experimenting with different touches and techniques, he quickly memorized the ones that elicited a moan or a clinching of her fingers in his hair. He slipped one finger inside her then two, searching for that special spot. When he found it, he heard her frantically whisper. "Oh God, Gil!" He really did wish he could have watched her, been looking into her eyes when she climaxed.

He ran his hands through his hair and glanced down at his lap. From the tightness of his pants, he was well aware that everything was working appropriately now. Considering what his chances were at getting her back into bed, he scraped the last of his soup into the garbage disposal and rinsed the bowl. Looking for something to do, he opened the refrigerator door. On the top shelf, a six pack of Dos Equis lager resided, a sandwich bag held a partially cut up lime in the one empty sleeve. Pulling two bottles out, he located a bottle opener in the silverware drawer and popped the tops off. Carefully squeezing each slice of lime, he got most of the juice into each bottle then slipped the slice of lime inside. After rinsing his hands at the sink, he picked up the bottles and followed Catherine outside.

"Beer?" He offered. She was leaning against a porch post, staring at the night sky.

"Sure." She took the bottle and sipped. "You found the lime."

"Well, it was in a rather obvious spot." He could see her smile in the light from a street lamp.

"I'm surprised you're drinking so soon."

"Hair of the dog."

"That bit you." She finished, with a short laugh.

"It's nice out here." He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his body, before sipping from his beer.

"One of the things I like about this house, is that you can't see the glow of the Strip in the backyard. When we bought it, there wasn't a neighborhood over there." She gestured toward the back fence with the hand holding her beer. The other had drifted over his arm, her fingers entwining with his. "It was still desert, no street light and it was so private."

"Everything changes."

"Umm, yeah, sometimes it's too bad."

"Sometimes it's for the best." He whispered in her hair, then added. "I won't regret it."

"Are you sure?"

"I pride myself on, not being an idiot…………………most of the time."

"You're never an idiot."

"I beg to differ. In affairs of the heart, I think I must be the biggest one of all."

"You just have to get your head out of the microscope once in a while."

"Umm. I was told once I should 'throw her up against the wall and kiss her like I meant it'. Do you think that was good advice?"

"Who told you that?"

"Charlotte."

"She would." Catherine giggled at the image. "I miss her. She was so funny."

"Yeah." He agreed. They stood there, quietly sipping their beer and enjoying the evening. "I never did, you know."

"What?"

"Throw her up against the wall."

"Why not?"

"Regardless of what she said, I figured I'd get a knee in a sensitive area." Catherine laughed out loud just as she was taking a sip of her beer. She snorted beer out her nose. He was laughing as he tried to help her. She ended up with her face buried in his chest.

"Beer with lime, it burns." She mumbled as the last of her giggles subsided. "I'll have to wash this shirt again."

"I think, I kind of like you washing my clothes."

"Don't get any ideas."

"Well then, just to let you in on a little secret, I think, I'd prefer you washing me."

"You just showered." She pointed out. "You'd have to get all hot and sweaty to warrant another shower so soon."

"Hot and sweaty." He mused. "I can think of ways to get like that."

"Show me." She challenged. He kissed her long and deep. She took his hand, led him into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

TBC