Title: Sticks and StonesChapter 7
Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. If they did, things would most certainly be different.
Author's Note: You must remember I started writing this a year ago.
Spoiler(s): None
Gil was standing in front of his closet when the doorbell rang, announcing Catherine's arrival. He'd been trying to decide whether to change clothes. He wanted to put on the royal blue rayon shirt Catherine had complimented him on in the past but couldn't decide between shorts or khaki pants. Currently, he still had on the navy suit pants and white shirt he'd worn to give his presentation, although he'd kicked off his shoes and stripped off his socks.
"No time to change now." He thought. He went over his list one more time as he padded to the door.
He had manicotti and fresh bread, picked up from the Italian place in the same shopping center as the grocery, keeping warm in the oven. Pre-packaged salad dumped in a serving bowl, with fresh mushrooms and cherry tomatoes, waited in the refrigerator. A bottle of Spanish Merlot was open on the table. Candles were lit on the dining room table and placed strategically in the bedroom. He'd brushed his teeth and put on some cologne. He shouldn't be nervous but he was. He paused at the door before opening it and unbuttoned another button on his shirt, hoping it would make him seem more relaxed than he felt.
"Hello." He said warmly after opening the door.
"Hey there." She replied and slipped inside. She had a leather overnight bag and her purse hanging from one shoulder.
"Let me take that for you."
"Why, thank you." She caught the little smile at the corner of his mouth as he turned away. He sat her purse beside his briefcase and laptop then surprised her by taking her overnight bag into the bedroom.
"What?" He asked when he returned to find her smiling.
"Being a little bold, aren't you?" She glanced at the bedroom.
"You brought it in." He parried as he settled his hands on her waist. "Now, let's see, I think a more appropriate greeting would be something like this." They shared a long deep kiss.
"Umm, I like the way you say 'Hello'." She said breathlessly.
"Hungry?"
"Starved."
"Have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly."
Catherine sat down at the table, kicked her shoes off and admired his handiwork. The table was cleared of the books, journals and mail that usually occupied it, candlelit and set cozily for two. She turned the wine bottle to read the label and thought. "Perfect! A good wine, not too expensive but not cheap and it will be wonderful with manicotti."
"Cath, what kind of salad dressing would you like?"
"What do I have to choose from?" She asked, returning from her admiration of Gil's good taste.
"Balsamic vinaigrette, Blue Cheese, Ranch, or Catalina."
"I'll take the vinaigrette."
"Excellent choice." Gil replied; voice muffled by the refrigerator door. The expiration date was far past recommended on the Catalina and Blue Cheese.
"What?"
"Why don't you pour the wine?" He said as he straightened to bring the salad and dressing to the table.
"That looks good." Catherine commented, eyeing the salad.
"Main course is on its way." Gil quickly grabbed a couple of potholders and whisked the foil containers out of the oven and to the table. He peeled the foil back and dished each a hearty helping while Catherine transferred salad to individual bowls. He offered her some bread then took two slices for himself.
"You got out the china." Catherine observed as she picked up an individually wrapped packet of butter from a small bowl.
"It was Mother's. Actually, I believe this is the first time it has been used since she passed away. It seems such a waste, for it to just sit in the cabinet but I couldn't bear to part with it. Too many memories." He answered, looking a bit forlorn. Catherine smiled as she sipped her wine.
"What?"
"I just think, that's sweet. Sometimes you really surprise me with how sentimental you can be."
"Well, it was a tradition……………to use the china when it was a special occasion." Gil reflected while he worried over the 'sweet' label. He had the misguided notion that being considered sweet might be the kiss of death for a relationship.
"So, this is a special occasion?" Catherine inquired thinking the faraway look in his eyes related to his mother.
"I think so." He answered remembering this was Catherine and they had a long history – he wasn't going to blow this by being sweet.
"Good."
"So, how have things been?" He asked to change the subject, spearing a forkful of salad.
"At the lab or at home?"
"Both."
"Well, let's see. Lindsey's soccer team lost the first game out and she was depressed until I told her she could go to camp this summer. Mom fussed at me for missing the game. Jeremy broke his arm and Nancy and Phil are contemplating a renewal of their vows on their next anniversary." Catherine paused to sip some wine and scoop sauce on a piece of bread.
"When's their anniversary?" Gil inquired, seizing on the last bit of Willows family information overload.
"July."
"Well," he responded with a raised eyebrow, "they better get a move on, it's nearly the end of May already."
"I suspect they'll just go to Hawaii or something. Nancy knows if she asks for something like renewing the vows, Phil won't balk at spending the money to take a vacation."
"Good plan." Gil commented thinking that Catherine's ability to manipulate must be a hereditary trait shared by her sister.
"Okay, so here's the good stuff!" Catherine leaned toward him conspiratorially.
"What?"
"Sara has a new fan."
"Really?" He couldn't resist leaning toward her even though they were all alone in his townhouse. "Who?"
"Thaddeus Reginald Bowman, the third." She put extra emphasis on 'the third' then attacked her salad.
"The new guy on days?" Gil furrowed his brow in concentration; a forkful of manicotti paused halfway to his mouth.
"That's the one. He's filled in for two grave shifts in your absence. Nick and Warrick are taking bets on whether she shoots him or falls head over heels."
"He's kind of odd, isn't he?" Grissom tried picturing Sara and Thaddeus Bowman together. It didn't work. Sara was Birkenstocks, jeans and a comfy T-shirt. Thaddeus wore a suit and tie to work everyday and never, ever broke a sweat. He had visibly bristled when Jim Brass tried to shorten his given name to Thad.
"It's probably just the upbringing. He's from the 'old south', Alabama, I think." Catherine stated then with a merry twinkle in her eyes added. "Who knows, maybe he's a real romantic at heart. You know, the magnolia's and moonbeams from your eyes sort."
"Yeah, but he's pale and skinny and his eyes have no color." He rebutted recalling Thaddeus's vapid eyes and nearly white blonde hair.
"I thought they were sort of green." Catherine replied, dredging up the last bit of sauce on her plate with her last chunk of bread.
"Well then, they're a really pale green." Gil stated, repeating her procedure on his own plate.
"So, what's for dessert?" She asked, pushing her plate aside.
"Ahhh……." He'd totally forgotten dessert. He had some ice cream that had to be at least a month old. He wondered if he could scrap the freezer burn off, unnoticed.
"Me?" Catherine prodded. From the blush that went all the way to the tips of his ears, she surmised she was correct.
"Gil, it's okay." She comforted. "I mean, I was sorta planning on things ending in the bedroom. Weren't you?"
"Yeah," he answered then admitted. "I've never been very good at the seduction end."
"So far, I think you've done just fine. Let's clean up the dishes, okay?"
"He's nervous." She thought. They spent some time cleaning up the dishes. He carefully washed the china and she dried. He was standing in the kitchen wrapping foil over the leftovers lost in thought. She filled their glasses with the last of the Merlot and entered the small kitchen.
"Come on." Catherine handed him his glass then took his hand and led him to the bedroom.
"Cath?" Gil began.
"It's just me." She soothed then asked. "Any fantasies you might like to indulge in?"
"Definitely." He admitted.
"Show me." She encouraged with a brief kiss. "I've always wondered what you fantasize about." Catherine pulled him in for a deep, long kiss.
"Candle light." Gil muttered breaking from the kiss.
"Say again?"
"You want to know my fantasies?" Gil solicited then informed. "Your skin and candle light play a great part in most of them." He lit candles on each side of the bed and turned out the lights. When he returned he found her standing nude, silhouetted by the flickering light.
"Jesus!" He huskily whispered.
"Too much?"
"Definitely not." Gil allowed himself to drink in the sight then added. "Though, completely perfect comes to mind."
"I'm glad you approve. However, I think you are overdressed for the occasion." She began unbuttoning his shirt.
"That can be remedied." He replied unfastening his pants then pulling them and his boxers off in one quick motion.
"What was the fantasy again?" Catherine asked as his shirt joined the pile at his feet.
"So many to chose from, so little time." Gil mumbled then slid his hands along her hips and up her ribs to caress her breasts. "The latest one had you lying on my bed, naked."
"Like this?" She asked after climbing on the bed and leaning back against a pillow.
"Yes." He followed her onto the bed. "And then, I touch you like this." He caressed slowly up her thigh, hip, traced her rib cage and ended by gently circling her nipple with his thumb.
"Catherine?" Gil gently queried.
"Yes?" She answered, slightly piqued at his interruption of her anticipated pleasure.
"I don't think I can go as slow as in my fantasy."
"We can do slow, later."
TBC