The Ides of March.
disclaimer: I don't own CSI
a/n: I know that March the 15th is past but I just couldn't resist writing a bit fluff.
Catherine's kissing you and her lips are as soft as you imagined.
Unfortunately, it's over way too soon and you didn't even get a chance to kiss her back. You can only stare at her dumbly as she gives you that sexy little smirk.
"You know Gil, it is traditional to kiss under the mistletoe."
"Uh, Cath, it's March the 15th."
"I know that, and you know that, but apparently the janitorial services don't."
"What?"
She doesn't answer you – at least not verbally, she does however point to the ceiling. Hanging above your head is a lonely plastic mistletoe left over from the Christmas party last year.
"Well, are you going to kiss me now?"
You reach up grab the mistletoe and pull it down. Catherine gives you a look of confusion and now it's your turn to smirk.
"Why don't we take this back to my place, where we can get some privacy?"
"Gil, we don't need no stinkin' mistletoe for that. If you want me to come over for some fun, all you have to do is ask."
"Catherine, would you like to come over to my house and play? I have new toys."
"I'd love to come over and play," she replies. She then grabs your hand and drags you out of the lab.
Maybe Shakespeare is wrong, maybe the Ides of March isn't such a bad thing after all.
-THE END-