Summary: Grissom says he's good at mouth-to-mouth. But is he ready to prove it?

Notes: This phrase just begged for a fic to be written about it! A warning; this is total PWP and just for fun:)

Spoilers: Poppin' Tags

Rating: PG-13, for sexual references and mild language

Disclaimer: CSI is not mine.

--Hidden Meanings--

Catherine walked down the hall of CSI, watching as Sara and Grissom had a conversation while walking toward her.

"I'm pretty good at mouth-to-mouth." The supervisor's words reached Catherine's sensitive ears even though she was still a good ten feet away. Not that she was trying to listen in on their conversation, or anything.

Gil turned to walk away as a speechless Sara stared after him. Catherine ignored Sara's inquiring glance and followed Grissom. She met up with him in his office, entering right after him and shutting the door behind them.

"You can talk now, Catherine." He said without turning around.

"You're pretty good at mouth to mouth! What on earth are you doing going around saying things like that to her!" He finally spun around to face her as she continued her rant. "She'll likely spend an hour now fantasizing about the mental images that might bring!"

"What are you talking about?" His face remained a perfect mask of indifference, but there was a spark in his eye that belied any attempts he might have made to insist on his ignorance of what she meant.

Catherine stopped pacing and looked him in the eye, stepping forward so that she invaded his personal space.

"You know exactly what I mean, Gil Grissom. Stop pretending that you don't."

He tried to curb a smile, but couldn't quite help the slight upward curl of one lip. "So? I simply said that I was good at artificial respiration, and we were even using that figuratively. There is no reason for her to assume otherwise."

"There may be no reason, but take it from me; she did. I saw her face after you left."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I was simply replying to something she said. I didn't imply anything."

"But you knew that she would read something else behind it."

"I happen to like statements with hidden meanings. They make you think. Why are you so upset about this, anyway, Catherine?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

"I asked why you are so upset."

"I'm not upset; I'm just concerned. You shouldn't be encouraging this thing she has for you. It seems to have been getting better lately, and there isn't any reason for you to be stirring it up again." She replied, a little defensively.

He raised an eyebrow, amused sparks shooting from the baby blue orbs. "Really? That's the only reason?"

"No, actually," She said, rising to meet his unspoken challenge and stepping into his personal space. "You shouldn't be making statements you don't have the evidence to prove."

"I have a certificate right up there on my wall that proves I am perfectly qualified."

"For CPR, yes I'm sure you are. But what about those 'hidden meanings' you say you are so fond of?" She inched slightly closer.

"I am good at mouth to mouth. You, of all people can most definitely attest to that."

She grinned. "Maybe. But it's been a full..." She sneaked a quick glance at the clock on the office wall. "...six hours since the last demonstration. I think that calls for a repeat, just to make sure you're not bluffing."

"Why would I be bluffing?" He stalled, knowing and enjoying the fact that she was fast becoming impatient.

"I don't know, but you can never be too careful." She tilted her head up until their lips were only a few meagre centimeters apart. It took every ounce of strength Grissom had not to lower his head onto those tantalizing, scrumptious lips, but he didn't. Blame it on his male pride or instinct or whatever, but he wanted her to be the one to lose control.

"Very true, Cath. Which is why you should probably move now because the blinds happen to be open and anyone walking by might see us in this position and assume-"

"Assumptions be damned. Just shut up and kiss me." Her hands were up in a flash, dragging his head down those last few agonizing centimeters. She let out a small whimper when their lips finally touched, and Grissom's hands left their position at his sides to rest on her head, running his nimble fingers through the strawberry blonde tresses.

He readjusted their positions and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Catherine barely choked back a moan at the sensation of his tongue boldly caressing hers. Her fingers kneaded into his back as he increased the pressure of the kiss. An all-too-familiar weakness invaded her legs she leaned against him for support.

His lips moved over hers, and she was fast forgetting about their surroundings when as suddenly as she had initiated the kiss, it was over.

Catherine stumbled slightly and then blinked as the harsh light from the overhead bulbs invaded her senses.

"So, was that good enough?" He asked.

The euphoria from their encounter had faded enough for Catherine to realize that he was referring to their earlier conversation. Though she didn't really want to, she settled into their former banter.

"I'm not sure. The kiss was pretty good, but you need to work on that ending." She said, shaking her finger at him and adopting a mock-severe tone.

"Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect."

Her gaze smoldered. "How about after shift, in your townhouse?"

"Works for me. And by the way, Cath. You will enjoy every minute of it, especially the end."

"Just make sure you have hard proof to back up that statement." Catherine warned as she turned to leave.

"Oh, trust me Cath." His gaze was devilishly sexy. "My proof will be hard as a rock."

She paused at the door, golden red hair gleaming as she tossed him a teasing glance over her shoulder.

"Gil Grissom, do I sense another hidden meaning?"

"Oh yeah."

end