TITLE: Still Not Used to It

AUTHOR: Gomey

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

RATING: R S

POILERS: None

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

SUMMARY: He found her curled up on her bed, wearing nothing but a pained expression.

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Her house in view, he stepped out of his Tahoe and jogged towards the stairs; his feet echoing on the faux cobble-stoned pathway. Skipping the two stairs, he hopped onto the small porch and rang the doorbell repeatedly.

He waited.

She had sounded so ill when she had called at the starting of shift, he could barely concentrate on the case that had called for the expertise of the whole team. After mind-boggling evidence, worthless testimonies and assumptioned arguments, they had decided to call it a night, vowing to work harder the next shift. When dawn timidly offered a few rays to brighten up night's dismal sky, he had politely declined any after-work activities in order to check up on her.

An answer had yet to be made, which only heightened his already anxious worry.

He fingered the key in his pocket and roughly stuck it into the keyhole, opening the door to a barren house. His eyes flitted across the frames stylishly hung about, the wonderful earthy tones that complemented her personality perfectly and a general inviting comfort that lingered long after he left the abode.

He toed off his shoes, discarding them beside two pairs of identical black dress shoes, the children-sized ones dwarfed by the larger ones. He smiled as his eyes took in the three sets, complementing the family life he often denied but secretly craved. A chuckle confirmed his thoughts: it wasn't any family...it was this family that he desired.

A muffled noise caught his attention and he glanced towards the open door. Fear crept into his features, and sank straight to his heart. He often had dreams, nightmares of such intensity that it left him to frightened to sleep for days to follow. Work had poorly substituted for the sleep he had been afraid to confront, and the only the Crime Lab had benefited from such a trade-off.

His steps slowed as he neared the doorway, and he cautiously leaned in – apprehensive of what he might find lurking. He saw her there, curled up and facing away from him, wearing nothing but a pained expression. Fantasy roughly dominated reality for a moment as visions of his dreams haunted him once more. He shook himself free of his deamoned captivity and his eyes drank her exposed skin – milky and enticing as it taunted him from behind the strategically placed white sheet.

"Gil..." She croaked, her eyes slightly red with moisture. "What are you doing here?" She grimaced and clutched her sides again.

"When you called in sick today, I got a little worried." He leaned against the doorframe, watching her intently.

"Stop staring – you know that freaks me out." She grumbled, pulling her knees closer to her chin. After several moments of tense silence, a modest 'thank you' traveled towards him.

He grinned, taking five steps to reach her bed. His eyes observed her state: irate, Her flexibility had always been a turn-on, but he never allowed himself the chance to tell her, mostly due out of embarrassment and fear of mockeries to come. He knew she wouldn't be mad at such a revelation, but he also knew that she would never let him hear the end of it – not to mention the gossip butterflies spreading their rumored wings in the lab.

A hasted impulse forced him to climb into bed with her, spooning her introverted position and conforming around her body.

"What are you doing?" Her monotonous demand could not hide her surprise: this was out of character and though she did not feel ill at ease at their current status, she was still mildly intrigued at the sudden action.

"Making you feel better." He said, chancing a gentle nuzzle against her hair. His hands slipped under the sheets, feeling the heat of her skin underneath his touch. They moved to her waist, and then his fingers tripped down to her abdomen, where he started to trace abstract figures with a comforting pressure applied. "Feel good?"

"Yeah..." She moaned, arching her back to gain more contact with him. She stiffened slightly, "why, what do you want?" Suspicions ran in abundance, as she tried to concoct a reason for his actions.

"Can't a fellow do something nice for a gal?"

Charmingly innocent, it seemed to strike an irked chord, and she batted his hand away. Her mind concentrated on distracting issues, but the pain couldn't be ignored and she clutched her sides again, letting out a woeful groan. "What are you trying to say, Gil?"

He snickered and snaked his hand around her again, knowing that this time she'd allow his relieving touch to continue. He knew that this time, he could not turn his back on his courage; confidence had opened the door and it was up to him to repay the favour. "That...that I love you, Catherine."

She turned around his in arms, her eyes lit up with awe and disbelief. "What?" Her face softened and tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she brought a hand to gently cup his cheek. "You really do, Gil?" Her smiled beamed and she lightly kissed him on his lips before pulling back to see whether such feelings were possible. "Gil – you have no idea how long I've waited for you to tell me this. It feels like a lifetime, and my heart just feels complete right now." She sighed, leaning her head against his chest. "Like we were just meant to be..."

"Shut up – I told you that I loved you before I went to work." He rolled his eyes, reaching to place a kiss on her forehead.

"You're just grumpy because you're not getting any for another five days." She giggled, her hands slipping down to caress him through his pants.

He looked at her, confusion sparkling in his blues. "-I'm- grumpy." He tried to formulate it as a question, but it just sounded like a skeptical statement. He shook his head, "you're nuts."

"I hurt!" She pouted, curling up beside him once more. "God – I've lived with this for how long, and I'm still not used to menstruation cramps."

He grimaced and pulled her on top of him. Lips yearning for hers, his hand cradled the back of her head, forcing her lips to connect with his. He immediately pushed past, his tongue mingling with hers in her mouth.

She rolled her pelvis against his, grinning as his moans caressed her ears. She loved to feel his hardness pressed up against her, even if it was a cruel gesture.

"Cath..." He panted, as his tongue traced down her jawline to her neck, where he sucked the tender skin. "That's not fair."

"I'm sorry – I shouldn't have done that." Her eyes fell downwards. "And I'm sorry that we can't..."

His hands found her waist, and glided down to her buttocks, his fingers being teased by the silkiness of her panties. "Hey, don't worry – I can take care of myself."

Her head snapped up, giving him a dumbfounded look, though her raised eyebrow held a definite smile at his statement.

He grinned sheepishly, bashful words muttering an excuse, "well, you know what I mean." He tried to read her expression, and sighed. "I can survive for a few days, don't worry." He grumbled, off her giggles. "Look, let me go bring you a warm towel to put around your waist to calm the cramps, and I'll give you a massage as well."

"Full body?" She gave him a wink.

"Full body." He acquiesced.

"Gil?"

"Yeah..." He said, pausing at the door.

"Some warm tea too?" She tried to morph her voice into that of a fragile child, but only caused him to chuckle at her lame attempts. "Gil?"

"Yes?!" A little impatience seeped in as he turned around again, watching her with a daring eye.

"I love you, you know?" Her blue eyes reflected sincerity as her luscious lips curved into a seductive smile.

His eyes wide, he took three large steps, collapsing to his knees in front of the bed. He grabbed hold of her hand, kissing her knuckle with fervor as he spoke from his heart. "Oh Cath – I've longed to hear those words since I first met you. I knew you would always be my yin, and I would always be your yang –"

"– Oh shut up!"

--Finis--