Smoldering Desires

Part 10

Gil’s libido had always been an albatross, circling his body, enticing him to reckless action. It weighted him down and caused him
to move slowly and deliberately. Besides Brass, and perhaps Catherine, few knew it was a constant struggle to keep his urges and impulses under control, only letting his guard down when he could do nothing else, as he had with Heather and few other dalliances over the years.

Day to day contact with Sara, having her so close, had instigated what should have been receding with age. Once, after her first full month in Vegas and a long shift Brass, had stood very close to him as Gil watched Sara walk across the parking lot.

“You gonna get yourself in trouble Gris. Sexual harassment and all that. It’s a new day my friend. One false move and you loose your job.”

Gil had given him his best poker stare, glad that his tell all eyes were covered by dark glasses.

The cop in Brass wasn’t fooled. The smell of lust floated from his friend, filling the air and moving the blades of grass.

“She’s an employee and a friend. You never make such pronouncements about Catherine.”

“Yeah, well we all think Cath is hot and we all look, if only for just a few seconds. You are doing more than looking Gil. You are doing what Moses would refer to as lusting.”

After that, Gil tried to be as careful as he could without pushing Sara away. Still, the mask fell away often. His eyes or hands lingered beyond supervisory concern or platonic friendship.

He had no idea what prompted him to ask Sofia to dinner and he thanked God that Sara had not held it over his head, even though she clearly had every right to do so. The woman worked for him, just as Sara did, and was only a year or so older than Sara.

During their two dinners, Sofia had made it abundantly clear that she was interested in a sexual relationship. He’d been mildly surprised when she had suggested that his sexual tastes lay outside what might be considered the norm and that she could help take his mind off of whoever he was pining for.

He wondered at his own transparency. Had he fooled anyone? It occurred to him that any women he associated with probably saw through him just as Heather did, just as Sofia did. They weren’t necessarily alike but none of them, including Sara and Catherine, were that different. Each was perceptive, intuitive and of above average intelligence.

So it was with a defeated restless that he came upon Sara in the parking lot that day after he had shared two dinners with Sofia, wondering why he kept focusing on other women, no matter how innocent, to quench his fire for Sara. It couldn’t be sated with another’s laugh or smile or body. He wanted Sara and he would have her, one day.

Then he had gotten sick and coupled with her in his office. The same office in which he had rebuffed her so many times before. The floodgates had been opened for both of them.

Sara was wild and lusty and she surprised him with her own fiery libido. He didn’t know why that had surprised him. She was his other half, the infamous elusive rib of Adam.

She passed him in the hall and whispered blistering and dangerous words in his ear. She ran a hand over his thigh during a staff meeting while extolling the virtues of the latest fingerprint software. She called him on the phone and murmured things about her fingers and the wetness between her legs. He wanted her all the time and all they did was eat and make love and watch movies and inane reality shows.

He looked at himself in the mirror one day and found himself relaxed and happy. The bags under his eyes had disappeared. Even sick he looked better and felt better than he had in a long time, maybe forever.

He didn’t understand what he had been so afraid of. He wasn’t Dr. Lurie and Sara wasn’t Debbie Marlin. He was not so full of pride and desperation that he would hurt someone he loved. And she was not so young and reckless as to take one’s heart and toss it aside. He did not consider himself God. She did not take lovers on whim, collecting them like the trinkets they offered.

Now his ache for her was seeping from his every pore. He knew he wouldn’t do something stupid. His self control was every present. No one else would sate him. No one else would quiet the tumult stirring in him.

He distracted himself with all the things he would do to her when he finally saw her again. Her hair fanned across a pillow, her pink wetness calling to him as she sucked on one finger.

He would have her up against a wall, on counters, in beds, on tables. They would hole up for days even weeks. His Sara.

The gifts had started innocently enough. A hand blown glass butterfly from a local artist, a pair of sandals from a Native American tribe. He wanted her to know that he thought of her often. He wanted her to have things that would connect her to his time here.

It was Dana, so like Catherine, who stated the obvious after he had shown her the packet of sunflower seeds.

“So when are you going to buy the ring?”

“What ring?”

Dana had laughed believing that her gentle, intuitive friend was making a joke.

He frowned as he came to understand through her merriment.

“I haven’t even thought about it. I mean I haven’t even looked.”

Dana twisted one curl around a long finger. “Don’t worry. You have had a lot on your mind with the whole dying and everything. I will have some uncut stones hand picked from the mine in Kimberley. My cousin Ivan is a master cutter. He’ll cut them.”

Gil’s tense shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. You want me to write you a check now?”

“No need for a check. You have two single, sane friends. I might keep you in diamonds for the rest of your life, which looks as if it’s going to be quite a long time.”

“Dana I couldn’t…”

“Ah, shut up. Hasn’t being sick taught you anything? It’s all a circle. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help you with this? I own diamond mines and you need a diamond. The answer is that I would be no friend at all. At least no one you would want. My life is diminished when you aren’t happy or you don’t have what you need or want. Your life is diminished when something happens to me. I joined your team, big guy. Not sure when it happened, but I did. In my father’s village they have a saying. When you take away my opportunity to serve you as only a friend can, you take away my dignity. Don’t take away my dignity, big guy. I only have so much left.”

“Thank you,” He said from his chair as he fiddled with his own bottle of water.

They sat quiet for a time, drinking water and thinking about love and sickness.

Finally Dana spoke. “So you think March or Brass have any viable sperm left.”

Gil’s laughter could be heard half way across the property.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The letter came from March’s office. The writing from Sara’s hand.

Gilbert,

Gilbert. She’s beyond pissed off.

Yes. I will wait for you. I will wait for you with open arms.

At least it’s not just me.

When I finally see your handsome face again I am going to kiss you and hug you. Then I am going to kick your cute ass. Kick it from here to kingdom come. Kick until my size nine narrow is permanently etched in said cute ass.

What were you thinking? You leave the love of your life and all your friends to deal with a terminal illness. The scientist in you should have known better. Study after study has shown that people with a strong support system are more likely to beat terminal illnesses.
That being said, I understand why you didn’t want me to see you sick. You were trying to protect me. Until I came to Vegas, no one had ever tried to protect me. Our guys are so much like you, hovering and caring and worrying and I thank God ( look who else got religion) that I have found this rag tag bunch.

Now. I want you to promise me that you won’t get upset. Pretend I am there and you are looking into my eyes and promise me.

I mean it. Don’t cross your fingers either.

Gil uncrossed two fingers and swore an oath to an imaginary Sara.

I have been ill. When you left, it proved to be too much for me. That, coupled with all the shit from my childhood, triggered a little bit of a breakdown.

Gil stood as his mind processed how long it would take to pack and get to the airport, deciding against the packing. He had clothes in Vegas.

Please stay where you are. March sent you there because he thought it was your best chance. I can stand being away from you a little bit longer if it means that I will have you with me for the rest of my life.

Please don’t blame yourself. You acted the way you did because you love me. It was not the best decision you have ever made. It’s one I understand, just like I understand you. I hope that wherever you are that you are able to talk to someone about your issues as well.

The breakdown could have been triggered by anything, dearest - a rape case, a domestic abuse case, or a Lifetime movie.

I am getting the help that I have needed for so long. I am relaxing and reading and playing poker on the internet. I take long walks and pretend you are there to share them with me. I even wrote a bit of poetry. Yes, it’s about you. I will read it to you when I see you.

Gil’s hands shook and he blinked back tears.

I am good. Greg and Brass are watching out for me. Catherine has finally had the opportunity to pick out my clothes. Nick and Warrick are making bets on whose going to kick your ass after I get the chance. We are all well and functioning as normally as can be expected.

I miss you so much that I physically ache for you. I know that right now, we are doing the best thing for us, for our relationship. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Sara

PS Two boxes will arrive. One will be large, about the size of a basinet and the other will be smaller. Do not open the large one until you hear from me. Don’t smell it or tap it or investigate it in any way. I AM SERIOUS. The second box you can open at anytime. Call it an early or a late birthday present.

PPS I have the money and the key. How do you feel about pink in the bedroom? Gotcha.


The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.

It is my belief... that the truth is generally preferable to lies

Albus Dumbledore

Gil scratched at a irritating bit located somewhere under his beard. “Who the hell is Albus Dumbledore and why have I have I never heard of him?”

He did love Sara Siddle.

“Willows.”

“Hey.”

“Hey?”

“It’s me.”

“You know, you sound like one of my best friends. But he’s been missing for months. Just up and left his woman, his friends, his job. How may I help you, stranger type person. Are you calling about a case, maybe some evidence?”

Gil’s heart jumped out of his chest as he listened to Catherine’s familiar tirade.

“It is evident that I am a fool. I am sorry. Forgive me.”

Catherine stopped, feeling tears about to spring to the surface. “Damnit. How can I stay mad at you? God you are just so damn decent.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh shut up.” Catherine turned her back to her office door. She didn’t want the rest of the lab to see her crying.

“I got Sara’s letter.”

Catherine sat in her desk chair and turned it around to face the window overlooking the parking lot.

“She’s good, Gil. Don’t worry. She’s better than good.”

“Should I come home?” He asked quietly.

“You should stay where you are.”

“Are you sure?” Gil had never put himself before Sara. It made him nervous.

“Look. You left for a reason. I don’t know if it was a good reason. If I thought her health was in any further danger I would tell you. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Sadness floated through the phone. “She needs me. She needs me to take care of her. I don’t know what to do when I am not taking care of her.”

“You are taking care of her. You are taking care of yourself.”