Hey, I'm new to the community and thought I'd start out with a fic. I've previously finished it so I'll post a couple parts at a time. What's the policy on NC-17 because there's sex in part 7 out of 8. And the companion piece is smutty, too. I can take the sex out of part seven and just not post the companion piece. Ok, I'll shut-up, here's the main attraction......
Title: Be My Girlfriend
Rating: PG (might get higher, we'll see, it'll at least make it to R, I'm sure)
Disclaimer: Not my characters. No profit. Blah, blah, blah.
Spoilers: Mea Culpa
Summary: Grissom's going to a wedding and he's embarassed to go alone so he asks his good friend to play his girlfriend.
Catherine slung her purse over her shoulder and walked towards the exit. Shift was over, she needed some hot food and a goodnight's sleep. These new hours were hard on her body. Not as young and spry as she once was and her body was taking entirely too long to adjust to the new hours. She ran a hand through her hair and her heavy eyelids threatened to close.
"Catherine?" Grissom asked stepping into Catherine's path. She slid to a halt in front of him. "Can I see you in my office for a moment?"
"What's the problem? Seeing me in the hallway just isn't the same?" She winked and he gave her a small smile. "Ok."
Grissom closed the door to his office and Catherine sat on the edge of his desk. "What's up Doc?"
"I'm going to a wedding this weekend." He started slowly, "An old friend of mine from college is getting married again. We see each other at conferences and send each other Christmas cards, but not much more than that, you know?"
"Gil, normally I'd be more attentive, but my shift just ended. . . I need some sleep and I'd like to get home before my shift starts again."
"Point taken," Grissom noted, "I was on the phone with him and he was talking about all his ex-wives. He's had four. This'll be wife number five. We were talking and he was teasing me about never having been married and I. . . told him I have a girlfriend. . ."
"And you don’t?"
"Not as such."
"So. . . you lied."
"Is there a point to this?"
"Would you be my girlfriend?" A smile broke out on her face. She found it difficult to contain her laughter and laughed openly. He pouted, "What's so funny?"
"You were trying to be macho!"
"Ok, I'm sorry, I asked you. I didn't think you were going to make fun of me." He turned away from her dejectedly.
She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, "I'm sorry, Gil." She stroked his arm. "I'd be happy to play your girlfriend."
"Of course. What are friends for?" He looked up at her and smiled. "So, what do I have to be, a stewardess?"
"No, job never really came into the conversation."
"Ok," She chuckled, "How did you describe your 'girlfriend'?"
"I said she was, smart, beautiful, excellent sense of fashion, five six, blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, thin, trim, beautiful."
"Shouldn't be too difficult for me then, eh?"
"Well, I was in my office and I could see you and Sara talking through the window." He explained.
"What an imaginative man you are."
"It's in Carson City, we'll have to leave early on Saturday. It'll be the whole weekend, does that work for you?"
"Yeah, Nancy and her husband are taking Jeremy camping and invited Lindsey to go with them. It's perfect."
"I'll see you Saturday," He smiled watching her walk to the door.
"One more thing. . ."
"You described *me* and not Sara?"
He shrugged, "Of course."
END PART ONE
Part two: Road Trip:
Catherine stood on her front porch, the early morning sun beating down on her bare shoulders. She covered her mouth as she yawned and glanced up at the sun with her sun-glassed eyes.
Grissom pulled into the driveway. Catherine smiled brightly at him, "Good morning,"
"Let me help you," He jumped out of the car to pick up her suitcase.
"Gil, I've got it," she chuckled. She tossed the suitcase in the backseat and by the time she got around to the passenger side Grissom was standing there holding the door open for her. "Thank you."
The ride started out with a nap. For Catherine not Grissom. Grissom was driving. "Oh, Cath," he said adoringly, "You're so beautiful when you're sleeping."
A few hours later, Catherine's eyes opened slowly, she stretched as far as her seatbelt would allow. "Nice of you to join me."
She smiled, "How long was I asleep?"
"Four hours, give or take."
"We almost there?"
He chuckled, "Uh, no, Cath, we're not. We've got over half the trip left."
She stuck her tongue out, "Bah," she stuck her foot up on the dashboard.
"You should put your foot down," Grissom was quick to point out, "If we crash you could lose your leg entirely."
"We're driving down a back road in the middle of the desert. One, If we see another car within the next. . . *hundred* miles, I'll give you twenty bucks."
"Hundred miles, eh?" He cleared the miles, "You're on."
"If we don't then you have to give *me* twenty dollars, deal?"
41 miles. . .
"There!" Grissom pointed to the blurry figure passing them, "I win!"
"Motorcycle." Catherine shook her head, "If you'll remember, the deal was we have to see a *car*."
"Why does it matter?"
"Well if we hit the motorcycle it wouldn't take my leg off." She stated flatly. "It would do much more damage to the motorcycle than us. *That's* why it matters."
79 miles . . .
"This is stupid."
"That's because you're losing." Catherine smiled amusedly. Grissom grumbled something under his breath, "What was that?"
"Ah-ha!" Grissom cried excitedly, "Car! Car!"
Catherine had started to drift off to sleep again and was startled awake by Grissom's persistent shouting. "What?"
"Car! I win! Look!"
Catherine looked up as a black Pontiac Bonneville passed them. "I don't think so."
"It's a car!"
"Look at your mileage." Catherine insisted.
He looked down and groaned, "One hundred and thirteen miles." He paused as she held back a satisfied laugh, "You win."
There was silence for a moment, "Want to play a game?"
"What kind of game?" Grissom asked skeptically.
"I play it all the time with Lindsey." She shrugged. "I'll start." She thought for a moment, "Red,"
"Catherine! What does Moscow have to do with chickens?"
"MosCOW, Gil." She sighed, "It's word association, it doesn't have to make sense! Don't think too hard. Ok? Rose."
"Like flour, F-L-O-U-R. You use flour to make cookies." She explained, a little annoyed, "You're sucking ALL the fun out of this game."
"It was YOUR idea, Cath."
"You're probably just tired." Catherine reasoned, "Pull over, I'll drive for a little while."
"Do you know where we're going?"
"I'll wake you when we get to Carson, I can get to CARSON from here! Pull over," She instructed.
"You're not supposed to pull over into the breakdown lane if you aren't breaking down." He shook his head.
"Do you see a cop?" Catherine asked and rolled her eyes when he scanned the horizon, "It'll be a quick switch. Just pull over."
He sighed and pulled over to the side of the road. They switched places quickly to appease Grissom's worries and were back on the road before you could say, 'oh THAT cop. . .'
Grissom's eyes slowly closed and in no time he was asleep. Catherine couldn't help but smile at him. "Gil, you are SO cute when you sleep." She whispered.
"Gil." Catherine said, "Gil wake up."
He shot up, surprised to realize he was restricted by the seatbelt, "What?"
"Carson City." She proclaimed, "Now where'm I going?"
END PART TWO