He glanced up as he heard her collapse on his couch with a curious squeak. Craning his head to the side, he glanced at her over his glasses, unsure what to make of this situation. "Catherine?" He finally ventured, stretching out her name cautiously.
He furrowed his brow sympathetically. "Monthly visitor?" He asked, his inquiry laced with a mocking humour.
*hic* "No...and shut up." Her voice skipped, highlighted by a squeak. "And you men wouldn't even be able to deal with one day of a menstruation cycle." Another squeak followed suite.
A raised eyebrow conveyed his amusement, but he winked off the situation, dealing with the subject in question. "Meanwhile, I bet you women wouldn't be able to deal with the whining...so I say we put this conversation to bed stating that both men and women suffer due to PMS's wrath." He tried to sound diplomatic, but her observed glare informed him that she had not taken his joke lightly.
*hic* She yelled in frustration, burying her head in the couch. *hic*
He listened to her emit another squeak before chuckling aloud. "Did you try to get rid of them?" He asked casually, elbows reposing on the desk in front of him, hands cradling his face.
"Get rid of them? *hic* Why would I want to do that when I can sound like a mouse being strangled?!" She vented, pounding her fist against the couch. She paused and glanced at him, a sultry look burning behind the blues of her eyes. "You know...I hear sex is the best way to cure this." Another squeak.
"The hiccups? Sex is the best way to cure the hiccups..." He asked deliberately, a shocked expression in response to her bold statement.
"Well no...but other things." She gave him a playful wink, smiling upon noticing his grin. *hic*
"I hear holding your breath works." He offered, cocking his head to the side.
She sighed, standing up and walking over to the side of the desk, preparing to hold her breath if nothing to humour the man in front of her. Thirty seconds later, she lazily exhaled, offering him a blatant 'I-told-you-it-wouldn't-work' look. *hic*
"No, you have to take a deep breath, Cath. From the gut." He gently poked her abdomen, eliciting a girlish giggle on her behalf.
*hic* She attempted again, though her intent was not satisfying the Graveyard shift supervisor.
Greg strolled down the halls, eyeing the parking lot situated directly in front of him. He hummed a tunelessly, a certain happiness floating around him since his shift was finally over, and he tomorrow boasted a day off. He stopped short upon hearing voices in his Gil's office. Smiling slyly, he leaned against the wall beside the semi-opened door, listening but all the while remaining inconspicuous.
"Deeper Cath...I know you can go deeper."
His eyes grew wide upon hearing the Graveyard shift supervisor speak in such a manner. He quickly turned around and headed back to where he came from, unsure of what to do.
"Did it work?" Gil asked the frustrated strawberry-blonde.
"I don't know...I have a feeling that it's going to happen again..." *hic*
"I heard drinking water upside cures the hiccups." He stated casually, a slight malevolent grin creeping forth.
She narrowed her eyes, almost deciphering his intent. "If this is just a stupid ploy to make me look an ass, Gil...I swear -"
"Just drink it." He thrust the glass in her hand and watched her awkward attempts to prepare.
*hic* She pouted, looking at him with large doe eyes.
"Bend down, and I'll hold the glass..." He raised his eyebrow at her incredulous look. "Trust me..."
Greg stopped in front of the break room, cursing that no one else was in the vicinity. "Maybe it wasn't what it seemed..." He argued with himself. He turned and glanced worriedly in direction of Gil's office before slowly placing one foot in front of the other. Stopping in front of his supervisor's door, he poked his head in, mentally preparing himself.
His eyes almost popped out at the sight in front of him: Catherine bent down at the waist, behind Gil's desk. He was holding her hair up, and distinct swallowing noises and loud breathing could be heard. Greg's mouth fell open as he stood there, aghast.
"Gil.." She whined, "it's really hard!" Water kept dripping everywhere due to Gil's hand constantly moving, on purpose, she surmised.
"I know." Came his casual response, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Now I have it all over me!" She cried out, standing up quickly. Droplets of water adorned her blouse, and she leaned over and gave him a playful smack on his shoulder. "Last time I let you take control..." She muttered, glancing down at her blouse.
Greg swallowed hard, not able to believe what he had just witnessed. He watched swipe a hand across her mouth, wiping any excess droplets of water.
"Satisfied?" Gil asked her, standing up to retrieve her coat. He glanced at her; both awaiting any further squeaks on her account.
She hummed contently. "Very satisfied...you work wonders, Mr. Grissom."
Greg slipped out and leaned against the wall just outside Gil's office. He stood there, petrified and apparently emotionally scarred.
"I wonder what causes the hiccups..." Catherine wondered out loud, watching Gil place a few files into his briefcase.
They headed towards the door, Gil hitting the lights before he exited. Closing the door behind him, they walked towards the parking-lot, both having missed Greg's presence. "I don't know...usually unforseen bouts of terror can do the trick." He offered.
Greg watched them disappear outside the door, his brow furrowed with worry, his heart beating wildly - *hic*
Summary: Why would I want to do that when I can sound like a mouse being strangled?