The Fury of Love - CatNip RP

Hello Everyone,

I’m LostLadyKnight, I’ll be taking over the role of Nick for a while. Umm, this is my first ever attempt at a role play so it might take me a little while to get used to how things work, but Waiting is doing a wonderful job teaching me. This is also my first attempt at a CatNip type of story, if you can’t tell from all the bells and whistles I don’t ship CatNip, though I did once have a dream about it... that was pretty fun. Anyway, since I don’t ship CatNip I’m not going to be savvy as to what all of Catherine and Nick’s moments are, so I hope you’ll forgive my lack of reference for a while.

I understand that I’m filling in for someone who has done this role for a long time now, and who has done a fabulous job. I’m not going to pretend to be better, or even her equal, I’m only going to hope that I keep her place well enough to have you all coming back for more until she does return. I’m highly skeptical about my abilities in this area, so if you are too, it’s okay in my book.

Last thing I’d like to do is say ‘Thank you’ to Waiting for being so supportive and being such a cheer leader. I’d also like to thank everyone else who writes this story for giving me this opportunity. Lastly I’d like to thank everyone involved, readers especially, for making there be a reason for me to be stepping in, in the first place.

I know this is a great project and I have nothing but admiration for everyone involved. I’m honored that I was invited and I just hope that I can live up to your expectations.

~LLK



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The suspect had barged into an argument that Nick was sure they wouldn’t have won with Grissom, and thus deserved a perverse form of gratitude. Nick followed the small cluster of people down the hall, walking dangerously close to Catherine until she stepped into the interrogation room, with the suspect, alone. Nick quickly slid around the corner and found a place with a good view of both Catherine and the suspect behind the glass.

He wasn’t going to let them out of his sight.

Nick stood his ground on his side of the two way mirror, his grip on the sill that held the glass into place was so tight that his hands were a deep shade of crimson, and his knuckles were white as bone. There was a strong possibility that this was their guy, that he was the one that killed his family, that he was the one that had targeted Nick and made his life a living nightmare. That it was him that was trying to use Catherine as a pawn to punish Nick for his crimes, crimes he’d committed unwittingly.

“I know who killed my wife... and... and my daughters” The suspect said, his whole body shaking in one giant tremor. Something about his demeanor, his speech, Nick wished that the glass didn’t conceal his face. He wanted the guy to see him, to feel how badly he wanted to pummel him.

He felt utterly helpless, trapped, watching the woman he cared about locked in a room with a man he was sure meant to kill her, eventually. He focused on the guy’s coarse overworked fingers and calloused palms, hands incapable of feeling then gentle grace of a woman. He allowed his eyes to fall to the guy’s left ring finger, he’d already shed the ring like a poison, his wife’s body was barely cold. The guy leaned forward and looked Catherine in the eyes, his face betraying a cocktail of negative emotion. Nick felt his chest bunch up and his muscles tense, like they did in small places. Like they had every time he’d touched a bug since... well that was a long time ago.

“Who killed them?” Catherine asked, shifting just enough to escape his glare.

Nick didn’t catch the next thing that came out of the guy’s mouth, because he’d overheard Brass and Grissom talking behind him. Brass prepared another one of his patented quips “That guy’s not even sleezebag enough to kill his family. I think we’ve got our guy in lockup already.”

“The power of love leads people to do great things... sometimes horrible, but almost always great” Grissom answered. It was a quotation from an article in “Forensic Magazine” that Nick, too, had read.

“The Fury of Love” He said aloud to the older men. “Sometimes a suspect claims that he or she loved their victim so much, they had to kill them.”

Was that the story behind the guy in the interrogation room now? Did he kill his wife and two daughters out of love? Did he sexually deface the three women who needed his protection most, out of love? It would take a truly sick bastard to do such a thing. Nick slammed his fist on the edge of the window, and drew it back quickly out of instinct, and not in reaction to the pain of his farthest right phalange cracking. The woman he loved was closed in a room with a lunatic and Nick was so numbed by rage he didn’t even notice his broken bone.

“Who killed your family?” Nick heard Catherine probe the man again, she must not have gotten anything out of him yet. Nick realized he’d been deafened by his own anger.

“I... did.” The man admitted, and then fell into a crumpled pile on the table like a marionette whose strings had just been severed.

He was a lunatic closed in a room with the woman that Nick loved, a lunatic that had done unspeakably horrible things to his wife and children. A lunatic that wanted to do those things to Catherine, a lunatic who still had the chance. Nick knew he was obsessing now, obsessing about the lunatic, but he couldn’t care as claustrophobia engulfed him. He forced himself choke out “Get her out of there.”
 
“I... did.” Marty’s confession was a mere whisper to her ear. The silence fell like a heavy baron into the small room as her ears felt the vibrations from the loud, palpable clock on the wall. Mouth agape from his unexpected admission, Catherine shifted precariously in an attempt to study his well veiled face. He let out a stifled whimper as his hand banged insistently on the table in bereavement.

“Why?” Was all she cared to ask, and the question stood vociferously on its own. Her posture stood erect as the illness of his statement suddenly hit her hard. Irately throwing her head to the side, Catherine pushed the loose strands of hair away from her face that disrupted her line of vision.

Marty’s demeanor seemed to change quickly from frantic undoing to a degree of menacing as his stare penetrated through her. His fists were tightening up into immense balls, and then suddenly disengaging as if the blood was not circulating properly in his hands. “I couldn’t let her destroy me. Or anything that I had created. She was going to make a disaster out of my political career,” he stopped as he sneered with derision.

“Right…looks like you managed that on your own,” Catherine spoke tightly in a low growl. She was about to turn to the cop and tell him to cuff the bastard, but she remembered the officer had left to get Marty a drink.

“She was having an illicit affair with a younger man. She was going to take my own children away from me. I couldn’t have it. I wouldn’t have it. They belonged to ME,” his retort had turned callous as he stepped ominously closer to Catherine. “So I gave her what she deserved. Then I nailed her to our bathroom wall. Of course I finished off her little creations first. They were already damaged by her ways.”

She gulped air as he accounted pertinent details of the unspeakable acts that were committed against his family. She felt as the blood slowly drained from her face at the sheer dismissal of his actions as if they were ordinary. His stare seemed to lack depth or a quality of feeling as his chapped lips turned into a sour smile of conceit.

Catherine was slowly trying to make her way to the door to create a path of safe haven for herself. Truth was she screwed up because she entered the interrogation room unprepared without her gun. She was not even supposed to be here today. Remaining silent, she hoped that perhaps he would forget that she was in the room.

“You’re all the same. Everyone one of you strong headed bitches.” Marty’s eyes twitched to life as he lunged towards her, knocking her on the ground. The air was suddenly pushed from her lungs as she landed on her back, and her head connected with the hard concrete flooring. Before she had an opportunity to react, he was in her face straddling her.

“You are next.” She could feel his hot, rank breath as he snarled at her. Breathing shallow with fear, she hammered her knee upwards into his manhood which sent him toppling over her. The door abruptly burst open as she pinned him down on his stomach, and Brass and a few other officers filled the room. Brass quickly took over as he roughly yanked Marty up as he cuffed his hands behind his back; and read him his memoranda rights as he escorted him out.

Hands placed delicately on her hips, Catherine stood in astonishment at the blurring events that rapidly turned horrific. She felt disheveled as she shoveled her hands through her snarled hair that now barely hung in a loose pony tail. Looking up as she took in a deep breath, she saw Nick standing there staring stricken at her.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered looking away as her eyes turned into a glassy mess.
 
*** I am role playing briefly as Tina...Warrick's wife! I'm trying to get everyone active in the RP!!***

Tina sneered at Warrick as she watched him sleeping peacefully in the bed that was nearly to small for him. The doctors were impressed with his speedy recovery when he had pulled a few stiches, and were signing his release papers. What did this mean for us? For him?

She rolled her eyes as she thought of Catherine, and knew he would go back running to her bed. She did not have proof of it, but she had followed him to her house the previous night when Greg drove them there. It seemed all the CSI were camped at her house, but she still would never put anything past Catherine's character. Warrick had tried to hide their blooming relationship, with some measly excuse that Catherine was into Nick. Tina did not buy it.

"WAR-RICK?" She fumed heatedly. She watched as his light green eyes stirred open, and he quickly took in his surroundings. "Re-Lax, I'm just here to tell you that you have been released," and with that she pursed her lips together and swayed her hips as she left him in his room alone.
 
Warrick sighed as she talked to him, then turned and left. He still had no idea where to gok so his best bet, he decided, was to call Catherine and talk to her or leave her a message. He dialed her number and waited to see if she'd answer or if she was busy. (ooc it's up to you)
 
First, I'd like to thank Lostladyknight for filling in for me while my life was, as Waiting described, hectic. It was personal and she filled in for me in a time of need. Hopefully, she will be able to become a full time poster here on FOL as a main character. As to which one, the three of us haven't decided yet, but I'm glad to have her stay, if her computer ever gets fixed, lol. Secondly, I'd like to apologize for the break in progress. We've lost a bunch a readers, I know, but I'm going to do everything within my power to get them back. Third, I want to thank Waiting for her unwavering support in my absence and in my return. I cannot express my overall gratitude or regret or apologies. All I can hope is that you guys may understand. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of 'The Fury of Love'.

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The second that Marty's finger flinched on the table while he looked menacingly at Catherine, Nick was up and running. "Damn it, get her out of there!" He threw open the observation room door as Brass rushed out, motioning units down to the room. A huge bang came through the wall and Nick ran back into the observation room to see what was going on. On the floor, pinned beneath the madman, lay Catherine, caught between his legs. Her eyes were wild, golden red hair splayed back like a fan beneath her head. Nick choked, not even able to yell for the cops to get in there as he watched Catherine shove her knee into his crotch, roll from under him, and back into the corner as help finally entered. Running from the room, he filtered in after Brass took the man away. And there she stood, hands running through her messeied hair and now-wrinkled clothes. When she looked up, he hated himself. "I'm sorry," was all she said before protectively wrapping her arms across her chest and looking away. He knew he had failed her. He was supposed to have protected her, and she trusted him.

Taking a few trembling steps forward, he softly grasped her shoulders. "Did he hurt you," his voice trembled. "Hey, look at me. Did he hurt you?" He raised a hand to her chin, cupped it, and raised her lips towards his own, dangerously close. There was a set of vivid parallel lines running across her cheek. "That son of a bitch," he whispered. Releasing his hold on her chin, it bobbed but stayed level. His hands shaking, his forefirnger trailed against the harsh marks of pain and suffering. "Cat, I -" He couldn't find the words to say how much he loved her, or how much he wanted to kill Marty Levinsworth, or how he just wanted to hold her and keep her away from all of this horrid reality. Reaching out, eyes still caught on her dribbling blue ones, his fingers tangled within her hair, feeling the delicate skull on the back of her head. "You have a bump," he responded. Her gaze seemed hazy. She did hit the concrete floor quite hard... "C'mon, we should really get Doc Robbins to take a look at you. I think you have a concussion."

She tried to take a step, but started to sway as Nick steadied her in his arms. "Please, Cat?" She looked up at him and held her gaze. Nodding once, he leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. He turned both of them as they headed back towards the morgue.
 
Everything seemed too surreal or perhaps it seemed to all float past her. She vaguely felt Nick’s hand on her chin as he worriedly questioned if she was alright. His words pierced her ears ‘Did he hurt you?’ Even though mentally she felt detached and aloof, she heard the protectiveness yet lovingness in his powered voice. Struggling to wrap her mind around the events that just unfolded, words were near to impossible for her to speak.

Catherine’s head felt dizzy as his hand quickly released her chin, and she felt the buzzing of her phone on her hip and mentally told herself to check it later. She heard Nick whisper a harsh profanity under his breath as his fingers lightly danced over the skin on her cheek that felt stingingly numb. She held his somber gaze as his hands delicately fanned through her hair before they rested briefly on the back of her head. “You have a bump,” she barely heard as the room slowly started to spin. His next words were only a blur as she tried to step away and her eyes closed as they became more unsteady. His arms helped hold her in place as she regained her senses, and Catherine found him staring at her with concern. She smiled as he placed a butterfly kiss on her forehead before they headed to the morgue.

“Nick…I’m fine,” she finally managed as they slowly continued on down the hall. “It’s just a mean bump, and I think I’m a bit hungry which doesn’t help any.” She suddenly stopped before they entered the door to Doc Robbins domain. She closed her eyes as Marty’s voice unexpectedly registered in her head. ‘You are next…’ vibrated menacingly through out her head. His demeaning voice sent shivers down her spine as his words chillily echoed in her mind. “How did I lose my senses with this case Nick? I walked into that interrogation room certain that he was INNOCENT. I never questioned he was in fact guilty.”

“You are a good CSI Cath…don’t question that.” She swallowed hard at his statement as her eyes molded into his intense dark ones. His hand momentarily got lost in her hair before he delicately pulled her into a hug by the base of her neck. An intimate gesture that definitely failed to go unnoticed by her as her eyes fluttered shut to their sudden closeness.

“Catherine…Nick!” Doc Robbins shouted as he opened the door that they were standing in front of. They both quickly disengaged as Nick cleared his throat. “I heard about the commotion. Everything okay?” The doc swiftly asked as he eyed the two skeptically.

“Yep, just Nick here wants you to examine my head. He thinks I have a concussion, and well I think it’s nothing.” Catherine slowly sat down in a chair as she took in a shaky breath.

The doc chuckled lightly at her response as she gently touched the back of her head and winced. “Well, can you blame him?”

“I’m fine…,”Catherine’s started as the doc interrupted her as he gently began to examine the spot she had just rubbed moments ago. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Wh--at?” Catherine asked as she nearly choked.

“You and Nick. How long?”

She opened her mouth in shock as she looked at Nick who quickly looked down as if to avoid the whole issue. “Uhh…we are just…,” she started once again as Doc Robbins kindly interrupted her.

“Friends? Yeah I’ve heard that one before.” He continued to inspect her head as he unrelentingly went on with his logic. “Good friendships can lead elsewhere, and that is what I think is going on here.”

“I’m beginning to wonder who might have the concussion,” Catherine joked as her cheeks flamed red. She could not help but notice as Nick smirked at her comment.

“Using humor as a cover up is a sure sign of being busted.”

“Doc…just tell me about my head. That’s why we are in here.”

“Your head has a lovely bump. You will be fine!”

“Good to know,” Catherine said as she stood up from the chair rolling her eyes. “Thanks doc.”

“No problem. Oh and Nick… you might want to keep an eye on her just in case. You know how head bumps can be,” responded the smiling doc as he winked at Nick.
 
“How did I lose my senses with this case, Nick? I walked into that interrogation room certain that he was INNOCENT. I never questioned he was in fact guilty.” Nick listened as her voice trailed off. Gently tugging on her elbow to motion her to turn to him, he couldn’t help but loose himself in the intense gaze of longing that came from within her eyes.

“You are a good CSI, Cath…don’t question that.” Reaching back into her hair, he meant to check the bump again, but found himself just sifting her long hair through his fingers. He could have lost her in that parking lot, the exact same parking lot he’s trusted to keep the bad guys out and protect the good guys within. He could have lost her if she was alone outside at that crime scene and witnessed the guy putting the note in his SUV. And yet he held his own gun up to her head and actually thought…

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and neck, holding her close against him, her head safely molded against the crook of his neck. His large, calloused hand, surely too rough to hold her own, held the back of her head, fingers fanned around the worrisome bump. So many times he could have lost her…His head sagged down against her shoulder and his eyes closed. “Catherine…Nick!” His eyes flew open and, unwillingly, pulled away from Catherine as the body belonging to the voice came hobbling as fast as it could through the morgue doors. “I heard about the commotion,” Doc Robbins said quickly. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, just Nick here wants you to examine my head. He thinks I have a concussion, and well, I think it’s nothing.” He just watched as Catherine swayed on her heels a little and lowered herself onto a chair, her chest shaky as she took a fragile breath. He watched as Catherine fingered her bump, wincing. Doc, reaching in, laid his hand within her hair in an entirely different way than Nick had just had moments ago.

He wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation until he heard Doc say, “How long have you two been dating?” Nick’s jaw dropped as he lowered his head and went into a coughing fit as Catherine sounded like she nearly choked. The two of them stood hacking in the hall outside the morgue for a few moments until Catherine was able to choke out, “Wh-at?”

“You and Nick. How long?” Catherine turned to Nick, who threw his head down, heat rising up in his face. Catherine, normally quick with words, was left with no rope to grapple for. “Uh…we are just…,” she trailed off.

“Friends? Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Good friendships can lead elsewhere, and that is what I think is going on here.” Catherine sort of let out a cross between a snort and a chortle; he didn’t even dare to pick his head off as he began pacing, rubbing his hand across his mouth in awe. “I’m beginning to wonder who might have the concussion.”

“Using humor to cover up is a sure sign of being busted.” The intensity of the heat rising up in his cheeks was getting to its high when Nick coughed again, trying not to laugh in embarrassment at the whole situation. “Doc…just tell me about my head. That’s why we are in here.”

“Your head has a lovely bump. You will be fine.” Nick quickly turned and helped Catherine stand from her chair as she rolled her eyes, muttering something he didn’t even bother to pay attention to. “No problem. Oh and Nick…,” He turned to face Doc Robbins, wishing that he wouldn’t mention his little “discovery” again. “You might want to keep an eye on her, just in case. You know how head bumps can be.” Doc Robbins grinned as he winked and limped back
into his morgue.

Nick just turned to Cath, speechless. “Did he see-? I mean, did he know before? I mean…” He just grinned in embarrassment, laid an arm across her shoulders, and guided her back into the lab area and out towards the front door to find Sara and Greg and figure out what was going to happen next. Standing at the front doors to the lab were none other than Sara and Greg. Greg looked fully worried, while Sara seemed displaced. “Nick! Catherine! Are you guys okay? Grissom found us and told us what went down.” Greg swamped them upon sight.

“Yeah, Greg, we’re fine. Well, I am, but I just took Catherine down to see Doc Robbins. She doesn’t have a concussion, but a pretty bad bump, and he recommended she just go home and get some rest. I’ll drop you guys off wherever you guys want to go, but I’m not even going to be staying with Catherine.” He turned to her, nodding, trying to convince her that he didn’t mean it. He really hated lying to Greg, but there was no way he was going to be able to stay with Cath and not let Greg and Sara stay.

Greg fell for it. “Well, I hope you’re okay, Cath. Sar, you can just come crash at my place. Well, why don’t, you know if you’re up for it Cath later, we can get together for a drink or something. I know you guys have been pretty stressed out.” He finds himself nodding, just wanting to be close to Cat, knowing that maybe, maybe she’s finally safe.

Walking out to the Denali, Nick carefully guides Cath to the passenger’s seat, not quite satisfied with Doc’s findings. He may not be a doctor, but it’s just a protectiveness he can’t quite explain. Rounding off to the driver’s door, he takes a slow look around the parking lot and double-takes the door. Seems just as safe as any other time, and that’s what scares him… Shaking it off, he rises into the seat, turns on the ignition, and heads off for Greg’s apartment, exchanging a better story of events, but still limited due to the closeness to Nick’s heart.

“So, wait, Nick, how could that guy have been the right perp if he was at the station when your Denali was broken into?”

“NICK!” A blaring horn woke him from his horrified gaze. Sara’s scream sent him into shock as he hit the brakes and pulling over onto the shoulder. He almost caused an accident; he blew through a red light. But he just heard Greg’s remark ringing back and forth in his ears. “Jesus, I’m sorry, you guys okay? Cat, you okay?” Her face was fallen, but she nodded quietly, a meek ‘yes’ coming from her seat. Shakily breathing, he sets his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment before heading back onto the road. Between there and Greg’s apartment, it was nothing but silence.

When they arrived, Greg murmured a “thanks” and Sara just slid out from her side of the SUV. Nick waited until they were safely inside the apartment before pulling out of the visitor’s parking space. “Cat, I’m sorry.” She didn’t say anything, which made his very, very nervous. “You know just as well as I do that Levinsworth did it, he just has an accomplice who delivered the first note, not good enough planning on his part. Nothing new is happening, and the accomplice wasn’t the freak who was killing a family and harassing us.” He took a glance to the right before resting his hand over hers. “It’s okay.”

“I guess so,” she sighed, and returned the gesture by flipping her hand and grabbing his in a squeeze of trust. ‘I hope so,’ he prayed in his heart. Letting the silence go for a minute, he finally couldn’t stand the distance he felt in the air anymore. “So, what are we?” Out of nowhere, she giggled. “What? What’s so funny?” Honestly turning towards her, she shook her head, still laughing quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, are we dating? Or are we just close friends? Or are we gonna elope and get married and live in an amish town in Pennsylvania?” The last question sent her into a fit of laughter and he couldn’t help but laugh and smile at the same time. When the laughter stopped, he squeezed her hand again. “But, seriously, are we a relationship?”

“Nick, we were always a relationship.”

“Okay, so are we a couple?” There was no response from beside him, and he turned to look at her as they were stopped at a red light. Her face was frozen in half a smile, half a worried grin. “Cath, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m different.” She nodded, then turned and smiled at him again.

“I trust you, Nick.” He couldn’t help but smile, resisting the urge to just reach down and kiss her, right there. He couldn’t deny it; the attraction was inevitable and there was something he just couldn’t place about her that drove him crazy. The light changed and he drove forward and into Catherine’s community, and into her driveway, where it was just a while ago a place of dark and doom. Now, it’s a bright and shining fortress. Turning off the SUV, he walked around and opened Catherine’s door for her.

As she set her feet down, he scooped her up in his arms and kicked the door closed. “Nick! Nick, what do you think you’re doing,” she laughed.

“Well, you are obviously still affected by the nasty bump on the back of your head, and I can’t risk you falling over like you almost did in the lab. I wouldn’t be your protective knight-in-shining-armor then, would I?” Setting her keys in the door, he turned and carried her over the threshold into her own house before carefully setting her down on the couch, the pillow and blanket from his makeshift bed still left over from the night before.

“You need something to eat, Cat. How about chicken noodle soup? Okay, sounds good.” Setting out the pot, he opened a can of soup and put it into the heating pot sitting on the stove.

“Nick, what has gotten into you? It’s 87 degrees out there and you’re feeding me soup?!” He stopped in his actions for a minute. He was being ridiculous. “I mean, nothing against soup, but, it’s just uncommon…Nick, you okay?” Her thin arms just barely reached around his waist and he turned to face her.

“I’m sorry, Cat. I mean, I just- I just don’t want to lose you. I mean, I almost killed us all in the car ride home, and I knew he was going to do something to you in the interrogation room but I didn’t go in when I should have, and that creep in the parking lot….I just,” he trailed off, suddenly realizing how many fricking times he could have killed her, just by working, associating, loving him. She instantly molded against him, and he sighed heavily, resting his head on top of hers, holding her close in fear of her slipping through his fingers.

“So, you know, am I going to have to eat this soup or do you want it, Miss Picky?” Her head instantly pulled from beneath his and she smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
 
awwww *squees* I love CatNip!
(PS remember to have her check her machine when she gets around to it.)
 
***thanks guys! I'm glad you are still liking this RP!!! Now for a bit of lovin & teasing catnip!***


“I’m not picky, and who said anything about losing me?” Catherine smirked as she gingerly ran her hand through his dark hair. Mouth open in amusement, her eyes danced across his passionate ones. Pushing aside the fear of possibly moving too fast, she leaned up and lightly pressed her lips on his warm, inviting mouth. She heard a low moan escape from the depths of his throat as she teasingly nibbled on his bottom lip as she gently kissed him. The much needed tingling raced uncontrollably through her body as he pulled her in tighter to deepen the kiss into an explosive passionate filled moment. Eyes closing with desire as her heart beat increased with intensity, Catherine felt as his hand rustled with her shirt until he made contact with the bare skin of her lower back. She desperately wanted this—wanted him, and her body shivered with anticipation and fear of the unknown with him.

It seemed the stress that they both had been going through was leaking its way out as they fumbled with each others clothing. Both shirts removed, she felt as his hand lingered around the button of her pants. Her eyes fluttered shut as his thumb softly massaged her stomach that was just above the top of her jeans. She bit her bottom lip as his hand magically undid the button to her pants, and she realized then that she wasn’t ready to give herself completely to him. The last thing she wanted to do was resort to the habits of her past, and then allow for this moment to mean nothing more than the mistakes of her meaningless encounters.

Stilling the passionate kiss on his lips she leaned her forehead on his, she could hear his labored breathing as his hand suddenly stilled on the fly of her pants. “Too fast?” Nick asked as his hands gently moved and came into contact with the sides of her face.

“A little. I’m sorry.”

Kissing her lightly, he ran his hands soothingly up and down her arms. “I’m not.”

His comment caught her off guard as her cheeks flushed red with awkwardness. He was definitely of a different breed because his sensitivity was rare, and a very much desired trait that she preferred. Quickly shrugging her shirt back on, she wasn’t sure how to answer him back. “I’ve never dated someone like you before…well, I mean I assume we are dating right?” Swallowing hard she felt the heat as it rose to her cheeks again. Was it possible for her to be anymore embarrassed?

Smiling at her, he leaned down capturing her lips briefly as he shook his head yes. Catherine lips graced a smile in return as her hands lightly moved up his chest. ‘Hard muscled chest,’ her own thoughts make her swallow once again. “Are we exclusively dating?”

Catherine groaned as she felt the vibration alert from her cell phone. Reaching down, she plucked the phone from her hip. The display read ‘1 Remaining Voicemail.’ “Crap…,” Catherine started as she dialed the number to her voice mail and a familiar voice came over the line. “It’s Warrick,” Catherine quickly announced to Nick.

“Cath, its Warrick. I hate to put you out, but the hospital is releasing me in about an hour. I don’t really know where to go. Call me?”

Sighing, Catherine quickly dialed Warrick’s number but reached his voicemail as well. “Hey Rick, its Catherine. I just got your message, and I’m glad to hear the good news. Listen, just take a cab and come here. It’s more than fine. Just let me know what you decide. Okay…talk to you later.” Hanging up the phone, Catherine winced at the idea of them not being alone. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just that he doesn’t have a place to stay, and…,” she suddenly stopped talking when Nick put his fingers over her lips.

“It’s more than okay.”

“Really?” She asked as her mouth inched closer to his. “I guess I’m going to have to make this up to you then.”

“Mmmhmm…,” was all he managed as her lips claimed his sweet ones yet again.

Lacking oxygen, she reluctantly pulled away from him as his arms hug loosely around her waist. She could not help but feel amazingly safe, and more importantly she felt content. “So you never answered me…are we exclusive?”
 
answer answer lol

Warrick got ready to go and even though he wasn't thrilled about the chair, he let himself be wheeled down to the waiting room where he could sign out and wait for the cab to come.
 
Nick stopped for a moment, not quite sure how to answer her question. 'Exclusive,' he thought, playing the word over. "Do you want to be?" He looked down at her, and the way her hair rolled off her shoulders reminded him of a golden sea. His heart raced, making his fingers want to dance and move to keep the rest of him still, the intensity in the room clogging everything else besides the two of them. "I want to be with you," her voice lower than a whisper as she dared to look up at him. And in that moment he knew he wanted her more than anything else. Her eyes shimmered in that one last ray of hope that never seemed to die.

"Then it's settled," he whispered and leant down to hug her tightly, stealing one last kiss as soft as a butterfly's touch on her cheek.He pulled back as he felt her body immediately relax. He smiled as she yawned softly, eyes pinching shut and nose crinkling. He felt so blessed, so important that he could see somebody besides the determined, wonderful, and all around strong woman he'd come to know. He felt so unbelievably lucky to have found somebody like her, albeit the fact it took him eight years to figure that out. He chuckled again, absently trailing her cheekbone with the back of his pinky finger as her eyes opened to find his again. "Tired?" She yawned again, talking through it in a muffle, causing him to laugh. "What was that?"

"Just a bit," she mumbled, the physical barrier lowering as she leaned against him and willingly let Nick lead her blindly to the couch in the living room. He braced her quickly loosening body against himself, lowering himself into a sitting position, her head using his chest as a pillow. "Don't let me fall asleep, it's too early," she whispered, shifting slightly to mold in closer to him.

"Okay," he lied, careful not to promise, as if any broken promise might shatter the entire fort of emotions they had built up together. Nick let his hand, still calloused from home, drag softly down her head, smoothing her hair as she immediately fell asleep. He traced the creases in her upward-turned palm; the journey of her life. Quietly humming the song from the bar, he thought back to the way he swung her backwards, at the way her eyes trailed his, never wavering in fear. He remembered the way her back arched perfectly against his arm, feet never scrambling in doubt. He tasted the sweet rye of her beer that night on his lips, and knew inexplicably the way her fingers almost itched to hold him like the way his had.

By the time he reached the end of the song, he felt himself slipping into submission, into a quiet and comforting sleep. But he started the song again, thinking about how both times they had reached that mountain of a step to take, to know each other more than anyone else, she had stopped him both times. He was frightened the first time, terrified to the core that it would destroy the two of them. But the second time, it seemed almost natural for him to stop. All Nick could chalk that feeling up to was not wanting to destroy it. This whole relationship was built on toothpicks, quite flimbsy toothpicks, and any stupid move of his could ruin it.

The fight in his head didn't last long though, because by the time he reached the last verse, his voice slowed, slurred, and softened. Head sinking, he fell into the deep dark embrace of sleep, arms wrapped around the only woman he could imagine loving for the rest of time.
 
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