TITLE: Controller Becomes the Controlled

AUTHOR: Gomey (grissomsgnome@yahoo.com)

RATING: Strong R


DISCLAIMER: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.


Catherine Willows stood at the doorway of the Farewell Motel. "Ironic." She muttered to herself, her eyes dancing towards her supervisor and long time friend. "Good afternoon, Gil." She stood beside him, imitating his pose: head cocked to the side, observing the two naked DBs in front of him.

"Crime of passion." He stated, his eyes flickering to meet hers. Pursing his lips he bent down, clicking his flashlight on. "I'd say they were having a little ... party." His light hopped from the silk used to restrain the man's hands behind his back, and then to the blindfold covering his eyes.

Catherine knelt down beside Gil. "So, woman tied up and blindfolded." She glanced at Gil, an impish grin in answer to his pending discomfort. "Kinky." She glanced back at the deceased. "So, the killer comes up behind, surprises them by waving his gun around."

"Orders man to take the silk off the woman, and then the suspect ties the man with it." Gil added, walking around the double-bed.

"Also forces the man to dawn the blindfold ... he's on top of the woman, pinning her down, so the suspect doesn't need to restrain her."

Gil walked to the foot of the bed, then extended his arm, making a make-shift gun with hand. "Then BANG!" A melancholic smile flitted across his face. "Two corpses ... one stone."


Jim Brass walked in, his eyes scanning the notebook clutched in his hand. "Sherry Harding and Sean McKenna." He paused looking at the two victims. "Twenty-five and thirty-three, both from Nevada, one from Vegas, one from Reno. Apparently had been dating for awhile, recently got engaged." He walked over to Gil and Catherine who were waiting for David to finish his preliminary on the bodies. "Family said that she was seeing a John Jacob Tyler before she met up with McKenna over there."

"Well, you know what they say, 'never trust a man with two first names." Catherine muttered.

"Or in this case - three." Jim quipped before heading out the door, his mind set on locating his suspect.

"Alright, finished." David said, walking over to the two senior CSIs.

"Thanks David, we won't be long." Gil walked over to the bodies. Both of them started by just inspecting the immediate surroundings; each trying to recreate the moments before the attack, in their mind's eye. Gil walked to the right side of the bed, and observed the handles on the side of the mattress. "Cath ..." He held up a piece of silk. "There's still some attached - my guess is that the killer might have ripped the silk in order to tie the man."

Catherine leaned over the bed, checking the woman's hands. "There are no ligature marks on her wrists. If it had been ripped, there would be evidence on her body." She walked over to Gil's side of the bed and bent down, observing the silk scarves. "Look at this, the way that the fibres are spread out would indicate a strengthened pull towards the inside of the bed." She headed towards the other side, noting the same directional fibres. "If you're an attacker, and you wanted to rip these scarves to use, wouldn't you pull them towards your body, and not away?"

Gil pondered and shook his head. "So the woman did this?" He toyed with the scarf momentarily.

Catherine shrugged. "Maybe when the killer came in and then adrenaline took its course." Catherine offered. She took out the ALS and put on her red shades. Putting one knee on the bed, she brought the light on to the female victim's wrists. "There is no trace of any silk materials on her wrists, Gil." She said, resting the red glasses on top of her head.

"If they were involved in such an ... exercise, there would be perspiration ..." He fingered the material, "and judging from the quality, I'm sure the dye would stain." He checked the man's wrists and smiled at the red tint that waved at him. Taking out a swab, he glanced at his best-friend. "I'll send this to trace, but I'm betting that the she was the dominating one of the couple."

"Aah," Catherine grinned, "a little femdom for dinner."

Gil shot her a glance. "And murder for dessert."


Catherine sat in Gil's office, waiting for her supervisor to return from Ballistics. She drummed her fingers on the arms of the chair and stretched out even further. Her eyes roamed the familiar room, noting that it only felt comfortable when it's occupant was present. A warmth spread through her body as his image came into mind, and she let out a minute grin, the mere thought of him able to spark bouts of joy in her life.

Gil poked his head in and let his eyes absorb his strawberry-blond companion's beauty. A small smile caressed his lips, and he let his eyes roam from her flat tummy, down her shapely thighs and muscled calves to her feet that were propped up on his desk. "Mi casa es su casa." He walked in.

Catherine smiled, and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "So, what do you have?"

Gil sat down at his desk and handed her a paper. "We recovered the bullet from McKenna -."

"- McKenna?" Catherine interrupted. "But if they were both killed by one bullet, and he was on top of her, how did the bullet remain in his body?"

"That's what I was wondering." Gil admitted. "But if we go with my theory that Sherry was dominating Sean, then it would make sense."

Catherine nodded. "Well, it offers support since they recovered some of her DNA on the bullet imbedded in his chest." She glanced up at him. "But how does that bring us to their resting positions?"

Gil shrugged and leaned on his desk. "The killer, maybe?"



Gil continued watching the microwave heat up his instant meal. "Yeah?"

Jim stepped in and joined the Graveyard supervisor. "Talked to Tyler."


Both men turned around to see Catherine walk in and plop down on the couch where Jim joined her. "Well, he was really depressed when she ended their relationship - had to take medication ... a few uppers. He was convinced that McKenna was bad luck and he admitted to," Jim paused trying to remember the suspect's terms, "looking out for her."

"Meaning he stalked them." Gil shook his head, stirring his instant meal.

"Yeah ... said that Sherry was pure and that Sean was the worst thing to ever happen to her." Jim added.

Catherine looked at Gil. "Could give motive - he was tired of seeing her with another man. He goes in, finds them in a ... situation and goes berserk."

Gil walked over to the table, setting himself down for dinner. "Makes sense - he then moved the bodies, placing Sean McKenna on top, and restraining him as a final embarrassment."

"Right, he didn't want anyone to believe that she wasn't pure as snow." Catherine pondered.

"If I can't have her ... no one will." Gil spoke for the killer.


Catherine lagged in the entrance of the motel room and toyed with the yellow tape in front of her. Ducking underneath, she placed her kit beside Gil's and joined her supervisor near the bed. "So, what exactly are we looking for?" She asked, her eyes looking at the blood-soaked sheets.

"Here." He leaned in, shining his light on two sets of indentations in the mattress. "Notice how the smaller ones create and arch in the mattress." He pointed to the grooves, showing the evolution from a somewhat lighter pressure, going in really deep, then ending lightly again. "Kind of a ..." he took a deep breath, "rocking motion?" He felt the tips of his ears redden and he tried to busy himself looking at the other indentations.

"Okay, so Harding and McKenna are rocking the boat, she's commandeering the wheel." Catherine commenced. "So the suspect comes in, shoots her at a downwards angle, getting McKenna at the same time."

Gil's tongue peeked from between his teeth. He bent down at the waist, looking at the second indents in the mattress. "Cath, hand me the folder from my kit." He stuck his hand out, his eyes never leaving the mattress. After moments without a response, Gil swivelled at the waist, glancing back at his deity while calling out her name. He did a double take, noting her glazed-over eyes, and realizing that he was in her line of view. "Catherine?" He straightened and moved towards her.

Catherine snapped out of her reverie, which had spawned from the lovely view that Gil had unknowingly offered her. "Oh, right." She turned around, silently cursing herself and searched for the folder in his kit. Finally, she turned around abruptly, running into his chest.

Gil took a step back and looked at her in the eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She breathed out, still holding on to the folder. "What are you looking for?" She made her way to the side of the bed, and began to examine the indentations on the mattress. "So what, the killer then leans on the bed, flips the bodies over so that Harding is under McKenna." She looked to Gil and shrugged. "The killer's knee indentations?"

Gil shook his head, heading over to the other side. He held up a finger to catch her attention, and he watched her watch him kneel on the bed with a lot of pressure, and then stand up again. He held the magnifying glass over it and let out a toothy grin. "Come here."

She acquiesced, and stood beside him, at his lower level. She peeked over his shoulder, then looked at him perplexed. "Your knee imprint."

"Look closer." He coaxed, his smooth voice meeting her ears. Gil watched the top of her head as she bent down, peering into the magnifying glass he held on top of his print. He drummed his fingers against his thumb, aching to thread them through her golden curls.

Catherine side spied him, her eyes levelling with his crotch and she took a deep breath, trying to gain control of her senses. "There are material imprints in the impression you left." She stated, straightening up. "My guess is that the larger indentations don't have imprints?"

Gil shook his head. "Unless the attacker was wearing shorts." Gil walked over to the foot of the bed, and leaned over. He took out his tape measurer and placed it on the bed. "Sherry Harding was a petite woman, about five feet in height, right?"

Catherine checked the folder and nodded a confirmation.

"So, you see these indentations here?" He pointed to two even smaller ones that were more towards the foot of the bed. "It's about eleven inches -"

"About the length of her tibia, given her height." Catherine walked over to Gil.

"Right, so these here, would be her foot imprints, but judging from the impressions, I would say ... the top of her foot?" He glanced at Catherine for support.

Catherine nodded. "Typical position if she was riding him, easier on the knees.." She stated.

Gil bent down and measured another pair of indentations. "Now I can definitely prove that the larger knees prints are not the suspects." He measured the length from the knee indents to the foot indents. "Measures about sixteen inches, coordinates with his height of five feet, ten inches."

Catherine narrowed her eyes a bit, advancing towards the foot imprints. "Toes?" She held up the magnifying glass for Gil to see.

"Unless the killer wasn't wearing any shoes ..." He studied the bed, imagining the two bodies back in their resting places and tried to solve the puzzle. "Did you notice how Sean's foot indentations were kind of pushing downwards?"

"Leverage?" Catherine grinned.

"So at some point, Sean McKenna was willingly on top of Sherry Harding." The two CSIs shared a look. "And I think I know how the silk ties were torn."

Catherine eyed him momentarily. "Really?" Accepting his nod, she picked up her kit and headed towards the door. "Then let's go work it."