Criminal Tendencies

Nick had always been a go-with-the-flow kind of guy but right now, the flow was going right off a cliff he wasn't sure he wanted to go over. Well, he wanted to go over it, but now was not a good time. Breaking off the kiss, he back paddled quickly. "Woa, woa, woa, Catherine, your mother is downstairs, we can't do this," he cautioned.

"You didn't seem so eager to stop a few minutes ago," she pouted. Even the memory of his hands on her bare skin gave her chills. He propped himself up on his elbows.

"Look, another thing, did I miss something?" he asked, voicing a question that was nagging him. "Because last night, you put a pillow between us and this morning–" he wasn't sure how to go on.

Catherine explained, "Yeah, I, uh, woke up and you were kissing my neck. I think you were sleeping."

Nick flushed a deep, very embarrassed, red. He coughed, "That was–real?"

Catherine nodded and the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement. With some satisfaction, she also noticed his ears were pink. Yep, must have been a pretty good dream, eh, Nicky? "...And it made me realize, I want you and you want me and no one gives a damn– so why the hell not?" Catherine continued. Nick forgot any response he was going to put in as she leaned closer and he was captured by her eyes. Unblinkingly, she stared into him, almost through him. He could see his passion and his want reflected back in hers. Delicately, her hands slid under his shirt and made fleeting contact. His skin prickled. His hands lightly caressed the backs of her thighs, gooseflesh popped up under his touch. She settled her full weight on top of him; the sudden full contact, even through their clothing, set off an explosion of excitement in both of them. He gave in and kissed her lips.

Catherine's lips had the texture of flower petals but she responded to him with such ferocious intensity, it almost hurt to kiss them. His hands skimmed upward, missing the place she most wanted him to touch her and grazing her buttocks. He hitched up her nightie to finger the hollow just above her tail bone. Neither made a sound, the silence was both exciting, and a reminder of the danger they were in. She gasped into his mouth instead. His tongue tentatively touched hers. A moan caught in both of their throats. She traced a nail back down over his abdomen and stopped at his waistband. One finger slid through. She opened her eyes to see his reaction. His eyes popped open and his hands stopped moving.

Frustrated, Catherine broke the kiss. They both sighed in disappointment.

He cleared his throat. "I want this as much as you do, but we can't– not while we're not alone," he implored.

"I can be very quiet," she promised, giving a Cheshire cat grin. She slid her finger out of his waistband and placed her hand quietly back on his chest. His face fell, he was being pulled in two very different directions– his head, and his desires. "Fine," she conceded. After a while, "How about we just keep it to groping and kissing?" she asked hopefully. But they both knew where that would lead.

"I'm sorry, Cath," he apologized woefully.

"What're you apologizing for? It's not your fault! If anybody's, it's mine!" she said indignantly.

She held up a hand as Nick tried to protest.

"Hell, I just got so caught up in the fact that we've waited so long, I didn't want to wait another minute!" Nick sighed, he felt the same way. Just the thought of her flesh quivering with desire under his hands was painfully taunting him.

She curled herself into the crook of his shoulder and whispered fervently, "God, Nick, I really want you." He summoned a reply, then the phone rang. Catherine didn't move.

"Well," Nick said, after two more rings, "aren't you going to answer that?"

"Don't want to," she said into his shirt.

"Why not?"

"It's Grissom," she replied, voice muffled.

"Oh...wait, how do you know?" Nick asked confused.

"He's the only person I know who is so socially inept, he calls before eight."

Nick chuckled. She rolled her eyes. Nick suddenly pulled his hand from his side, reached over, and tickled her. She squeaked and was about to retaliate– the phone rang insistently. "Fine!" Catherine snapped and snatched the phone from it's cradle on the bed-side table. "Hey Gil," she answered. She rolled her eyes at Nick.

"Hello, Catherine?" came the question from the other end of the line.

"No," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry, you and Lindsay sound so alike these days," he explained.

"Before you ask, I'm not coming in today," Catherine said preemptively.

"That's not why I was calling," Grissom said, "It's about the fire."

Nick listened intently. He leaned forward to but his chin on her shoulder. Her hair tickled his nose.

"It's been ruled an arson." Catherine and Nick raised eyebrows at each other.

"Wow," was all Catherine could say.

"Yeah, any way, do you know where I can reach Nick?" Grissom asked.

"Uh," Catherine began awkwardly, "He's staying here." She could almost hear Gil rolling his eyes. Nick gave a roguish grin and his hand inched down her hip. "Nick!" she squealed, "Not now!" She could see Grissom massage his temple. A dry grin spread across her face. Nick admired how the playful look made her face even more perfect. As if reading his thoughts, she looked away.

Grissom cleared his throat. "Well, anyway, he'll be kept updated, I trust."

"Of course."

"Uh, goodbye then."

"Bye." Almost as soon as she hung up, she feigned annoyance and turned to Nick. "I can't believe you did that!" she said, collapsing into laughter and grabbing a pillow. She began to thump him with it saying in gasps between playful blows, "He's...your...boss!" He hid from her attack under another pillow. He breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of her perfume that was embedded in the sheets. She gave him one last whack for good measure and then he felt her get up. Cautiously, he looked out, just in time for the pillow to land in front of him, pillowcase brushing his cheek.

An instant later, she fell on him, giggling. With a roar, he wrapped her in his arms. She shushed him and worriedly looked over her shoulder expecting her mother to call up at any second. They were both silent and motionless for an instant but there was no noise from downstairs. Nick rolled over, pinning Catherine to the bed. Their lips mashed together greedily. He buried his hands in her hair.

"Get a room," the disgusted voice came unexpectedly from the doorway. Nick quit sucking on Catherine's tongue.

"Oh my God, LINDSAY!" Catherine screamed and leapt off the bed. Sure enough, Lindsay Willows stood in the hall, backpack dragging behind. Catherine stepped into the hall, pulling the door closed behind her. "What the hell are you doing here?" she whispered angrily.

"Sorry, mom, my friend's dad broke his ankle," the teenager explained, meek under her mother's wrath.

"Lindsay, this is my private time, you should have called!" her mother admonished.

"Well, sorry," Lindsay spat out, her anger flaring up quickly. "I didn't know you wanted more time with your boy toy."

"Ugh," Catherine said disgustedly, "Alright, no computer and you're staying home with Grandma all weekend." Lindsay huffed. Her mother pointed, "Room, now!" Catherine turned on her heel and reentered her bedroom, shutting the door slightly too loud. Nick was in the bathroom so she waited on the bed.

She couldn't believe it, it seemed like she was always yelling at her daughter these days. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. She felt disgusted with herself. Nick opened the door and joined her on the bed. He rested a tentative hand lightly on one shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. She sobbed. He twisted her chin to make her look at him.

"I'm a horrible parent," she sniffed, "I should have never let her see that, I shouldn't have yelled–" She sobbed again. Nick drew her into a hug and rested his chin on her silky hair.

"You couldn't have known," he said comfortingly.

"I know, you're right," Catherine admitted. She watched a single tear's progress as it dripped to her arm and rolled off to land on Nick's shirt flowering into a dark circle. "I just really wanted," she gestured between them, "'this'."

"Me too, Cath, me too," he whispered in her ear and he kissed the next tear as it welled up in the corner of her eye.

"This is just so frustrating!" she cried and whirled off to her walk in closet to change. He slid on the pair of pants and the shoes. He thought for a second, then his face pulled into a grin.

"Hey Catherine," Nick called, "How does breakfast sound?"

Her muffled reply came through the door, "It sound's like a veiled suggestion of driving somewhere then having wild sex in the backseat."

Nick smiled and approached the door to talk into the crack, "I was thinking more like bacon and eggs at the diner then driving somewhere and having wild sex in the backseat." Catherine opened the door and swatted him with the sleeve of her jacket.

They both snuck down the hall and were almost to the door before a voice said, "Where are you going?"

Catherine spun around and said brightly, "Mom! Uh, hi! We're going to breakfast."

"Am I invited?"

Catherine and Nick exchanged red-faced glances.

"Oh, it's that kind of breakfast," it dawned on her. Her mother winked. Catherine slammed the door behind them.

She rolled her eyes, "Ugh, mothers," she moaned.

Nick chuckled, "I think I like your mother." As she drove, they joked and teased but inside both of them, excitement was growing. 'It' was finally going to happen. They pulled into the diner, still laughing about the earlier "Grissom incident," and moments later slid into the usual booth. They didn't even need to look at the menus: several years of going to the same place for breakfast every Friday and they had it memorized. Almost immediately, the waitress took their orders and had disappeared into the kitchen.

Catherine felt Nick staring at her and she looked up to meet his gaze. Their depth took her breath away. In fact, he was memorizing her. He tried to commit to memory how she looked: her hair was golden with streaks of red, her eyes were almost crystalline, her lips looked so lush and how she smelled, her flowery perfume intoxicating even from his distance. But most of all, the fact that she was his. Catherine winked. "You like what you see?" she asked coyly.

Nick could only nod.

She switched conversation topics suddenly and said, "So, arson...who wants to burn your house down?"

Nick hardly missed a beat before saying, "Well, there was that creepy cable guy and a hell of a lot of other murderers, rapists, and their families, and two creepy ex-girlfriends, the daughter of the guy who buried me..."

Catherine gave a low whistle.

"...Grissom, so I'd have to come in to work more often..."

The joke fell flat. They were both worried about who was out to get him. The thing was, being a CSI didn't exactly make you the most popular person in town among people with criminal tendencies.

Catherine squeezed his hand gently.

They both tried to think of something else to say, but drew a blank. She uncrossed her legs and accidentally nudged his leg. He grinned and kicked her back. Soon enough, it turned into an electrifying game of Footsie under the table. Even the slight contact of her foot reminded him of touching the rest of her body. They were trying not to disturb other customers with their giggling when Catherine looked across the restaurant for a split second and noticed Warrick and Greg talking over coffee. She looked away hurriedly. The waitress arrived with perfect timing and set two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of them. She slapped the check down next to it.

"Sorry," she muttered, "we're out of bread so just one serving." She indicated the piece of toast on Nick's plate.

"It's okay, Catherine doesn't mind," Nick joked.

Catherine punched him over the table. The waitress forced a laugh and shuffled away tiredly.

"Don't look now," Catherine said as the woman left and indicated their colleagues across the room. Nick obligingly looked and groaned as his eyes rested on their table.

"We shouldn't have come here," he said and smacked his forehead. Catherine grinned over the rim of her orange juice glass. She slid around the table to sit next to him and grabbed the piece of toast off his plate. He slapped her wrist but let her have it any way. She nibbled it daintily and took another sip of her juice. Nick studiously ignored both her and "the boys." He examined his bacon closely and ate it, concentrating on chewing.

She put her glass down and looked back at Greg and Warrick. They seemed to be reviewing a file folder. Probably the case from last shift. Her gaze returned to Nick. She gave her lips a quick once over with her tongue, setting his heart racing. He saw what she was going to do and he shook his head vigorously. With a mischievous grin, Catherine kissed him. Nick saw Warrick look up at that instant. Warrick's jaw dropped and he pointed at them, saying something unintelligible to Greg. Nick found himself kissing her back any way. He closed his eyes, shutting them out. "How's that?" she whispered. Then she slid away and sat back behind her plate. They could hear the boys gasp from their seats.

"Never gonna live that one down, are ya, Nicky," she teased. Indignantly, he put a forkful of eggs in to his mouth.

"I'm not going to answer that," he replied, furtively watching the other side of the room. Warrick was laughing and high-fiving Greg who looked shocked. Then, Greg fished money out of his pocket and handed it to– "Hey!" Nick protested and tried to stand up. Catherine grabbed him from across the table. They seemed to find this even more funny. Their guffaws were now audible. "Catherine," he growled.

"Relax," she said seductively, leaning in secretively, "I can make it all up to you."

"Do tell." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Let's go," Catherine urged. He wasn't about to resist. As they got up to leave, Catherine gave a little wave in Warrick and Greg's direction. Nick winked and mouthed, "Pay up!"

Catherine kissed him right below his earlobe as they walked to the car. Everything tingled. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that," she told him. She kissed him there again. His knees threatened to give out. She kissed him again, this time on his earlobe, her tonge sneaking out. He wanted to collapse right there. Some how, they both climbed into the car. As soon as she sat down, he leaned in and brought their lips together, his tongue demanding entry. The world stopped. Lights were flashing, fire works were exploding. All they could feel was their desires becoming one. When they finally broke apart to breathe, they were both panting.

Catherine turned the engine over and the tires screeched as they shot out of the parking lot. She was doing a solid 10 miles per hour over the speed limit but she didn't care. It wasn't as if they were going to get pulled over any way. Nick's hand reached for the overhead siren but she jokingly swatted it down. Nick pretended to pout. She reached for the same hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing each finger. "There, better?" she asked.

"Where are we going?" Nick asked. Catherine was way ahead. She swerved into a deserted pullout that was infamous for it's "Lover's Lane" reputation. It was technically criminal to park here but neither of them cared. In an instant, they were both unbuckled and kissing, hands clutching desperately. The seats were all down in the back creating a large floor space.

Nick pulled her there and pinned her down, kissing and stroking, enjoying the smooth texture of her abdomen. Her eyes were pools of darkness filled with desire. Reverently, he slid her t-shirt off and ran his fingers down her body. Gently, he kissed both of her eyes, then her lips, then her chin.

He kissed down her neck and followed a small trail of peach fuzz down to her waist. He slid her pants down; sliding his fingers over her inner thighs and felt a rush as she rose up against his touch. She made a feral sound, similar to a growl. They kicked off their shoes and she reached for his belt-buckle. He attacked her mouth again, seeing stars as her fingers flitted over his now-bared back. She wrestled his pants off and for the second time in as many hours, she slid a finger under his waistband. He whimpered, begging her to touch him. She replied by pressing her chest to his.

Suddenly, they were wearing too much, going way too slow. He unclasped her bra and pulled it off. She tugged on his waistband. They were lost in pleasure.