TITLE: Who's the Sucker Now?


ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know so I can brag...



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

SUMMARY: Grissom helps a certain female in more ways than one.

NOTES: The male mosquito actually doesn't suck blood – only the female does, in order to ensure growth of her eggs. Males seem to be merely fertilization carriers and live off nectar.


Heels clicked down the deserted halls of the Las Vegas crime lab and halted in front of an open office. Haste allowed a gust of air to travel in, blowing papers off desks and the slamming of a door to carry its way to his ears.

Gil Grissom glanced up. "Catherine?" He asked curiously, concern building regarding her odd behaviour. "Are they after you again?" He leaned forward on his desk, lowering his voice to a paranoid jest.

She narrowed her eyes and thought of a retort, but decided on biting her lip and rubbing her back up and down on the door frame instead. She let out a disgruntled groan, followed by a string of incoherent threats and curses.

"Rolling around in the poison ivy again?" Gil smiled, placing his glasses on his desk and casually picking up the papers strewn about on the floor. Blue eyes taunted blue and he waited for her irate answer.

"Shut up and help me." She pleaded, though it was laced with a demanding tone he was either too fearful or too chivalrous to refuse. She turned around and pointed vaguely at her back, motioning him to ease her discomfort.

"Ah, so you want the Grissom touch." He replied cheekily, his hands moving gently up her back. He took a step back upon witnessing her famed evil-eye, deciding to fully cooperate with the irate strawberry-blond. "Where abouts...?" He asked, his hands still taking in the feel of her body. Fingers tripped across the ribbed material of her white tank-top, drinking in the heated skin of her shoulder-blades, neck and shoulders.

She gripped the door frame, curbing her back towards him, instantly reminding him of the sleekness of a cat. "Everywhere...and I like it rough!" She dropped her voice as his hands began to add pressure and several moans dripped from her lips as his fingers began to gently but thoroughly massage her skin.

Gil's eyebrow shot up upon hearing her statement, but he didn't dare bring it up – content with keeping it in his repertoire of sayings that had an arousing effect; words that kept him company when desire was in peak condition.

"This stupid damn mosquito...I swear, my body is riddled with bites!" She began dragging her fingers across her abdomen, in an attempt to alleviate the nuisanced itching. Another moan melted off her lips as his touch calmed the burning sensation on her shoulder-blade.

The young lab tech was casually strolling by, on his way to the parking lot when he heard quite a bit of commotion coming from his supervisor's office. "Hellooo..." He took off his earphones, resting them around his neck and leaned against the door; eavesdropping his new pastime.

"Nails, Gil! And under the shirt." He heard Catherine command.

Eyes wide open, he looked at the door aghast. Cocking his head to the side, he pursed his lips and pondered the imagery, accepting it with a nod he continued listening.

"God...that feels heavenly." She retreated from his being, turned around and gave him a lasting hug. "Thank you so much!"

He straightened slightly in her embrace and hesitantly put his hands around her waist. A sharp intake of breath greeted her groan.

"Mmm, lower." She whispered in his ear as his hands began to once again rid her back of the bug bite's wrath.

Greg continued to listen to the muffled words exchanged, only really making out grateful 'thank yous', moans and groans. "Could they...no..." His brow furrowed, he contemplated what could be transpiring on the other side of the door.

Catherine took a step back, sighing in relief. "I'm going to go home, maybe get some Lanacane on." She gave his shoulder a friendly pat. "I swear, if I find that mosquito..." Fist balled tightly, she made a silent threat.

Gil spied the suspect land on his bicep and he quickly put a hand, cupping a dome around it. An innocent smile raised her suspicions.


"Nothing." He replied quickly, and followed her gaze to his arm. "Oh...uh...pulled a muscle." He turned and headed towards his desk, still creating the protective concealing bubble around the poor mosquito.

Catherine nodded and opened the door, throwing a indebted thanks over her shoulder, followed by a secret smile that Greg had been fortunate enough to catch.

"Bye Greg!" She smiled happily as she headed towards the parking lot.

"She seemed...satisfied." He remarked to Gil, who was now intently studying a specimen trapped in a clear plastic container. "Uh...so, what just happened?"

"Oh nothing – I just helped my girl..." He commented, his voice layered with a lack of interest. He continued staring at the mosquito fluttering around in the container.

"O....kay." Greg replied, slowly, glancing at Catherine's retreating path, assumptions his only lead.

"Yeah, oddly though, it was satisfying for me too." He replied casually, tapping at the glass.


"Yeah, though I think I helped fill her up completely." Gil added, factually.


"I almost began to think that she was going to suck me until she exploded." Gil added with a grin, watching slightly puzzled as the young lab rat stood there with a stunned expression on his face. "But, maybe by then she'll learn her lesson and stop hovering around me...I mean, the minute I show a little skin, she's on me like that!" He snapped his fingers in emphasis.


"But, if it satisfies her thirst – I don't mind indulging her once in awhile." He gave Greg a wink, tucked the plastic container under his arm and headed out the door. "Have a good night, Greg." He hit the light- switch, encasing Greg Sanders in a darkened fear – squeaks his only mean of communicating the scarring images relayed by his supervisor.

Gil smiled as he stepped out of the lab, "that was a close one." He murmured, opening the container and watching the mosquito fly out, bobbing slightly due to a large consumption of blood.

"Honestly Gil, you care too much about those damned insects." Catherine muttered to his approaching being, as she leaned against his Denali.

He smiled sheepishly, scratching his arm where the mosquito had victimized him too. "So, about that Lanacane?"

Catherine gave him a sexy wink before roughly kissing his mouth. Her tongue pushed past his lips and she deepened the kiss, her hands finding his and guiding them around her waist. She moaned against his parted lips as his nails began to relieve once again.

His lips sought her neck, where upon he whispered his feigned hurt. "Why do I have a feeling that you're just using me for my magic touch?"