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Author: Becky Rating: CSI-2, for language Summary: Greg and Nick have big mouths. Spoilers: None, since ‘Gum Drops’ changed (thankfully!) Archive: Sure, I’d be flattered. Disclaimer: I still don’t own anything. Part I Catherine walked and rounded the hallways by memory, her attention focused on the report from Lindsey’s new school. The gist of it; her daughter was ‘adjusting well’. ‘Adjusting well.’ Those two words made Catherine hum happily, and loudly enough to send curious glances her way. She didn’t notice them. If she had, she wouldn’t have cared. She only lifted her eyes from the papers as she neared the locker room door, which opened at that exact moment as if just for her. Smiling widely, she thanked the person who was coming out. This was definitely going to be a good day. Or not. “Grissom slept with Sara.” The last click of Catherine’s heel punctuated the younger woman’s name, leaving the phrase dangling in the air and Catherine frozen to her spot. No one said anything for a few seconds. “Hey, Cath,” Nick broke the tension, offering his good-natured smile. Catherine recovered, offering a tight smile in return. “Hey, guys.” She managed to move her legs and walked to her locker, thankful her back was to them. Greg and Nick looked at each other, neither sure what to do. Should they keep talking? They settled for an awkward, but safe, silence. “So, Greg, you were saying?” Greg almost jumped, more at the sound of Catherine’s voice than the tinny sound of her locker door closing shut. “Um, well…” He looked at Nick, who decided to continue not saying a word. “Actually -- never mind. I need to get some things in order before shift starts. I’ll see you boys in a bit.” Catherine walked out, her steps becoming quicker once she was back in the hallway. She stopped only when she was just outside their office – her and Gil’s office. ‘Please don’t be in there, please don’t be in there,’ she silently repeated as her hand turned the knob and pushed the door open. It was empty. She went inside and shut the door behind her, leaning her back against the frame and letting out a long, deep breath. “He’s a grown man,” she reasoned out loud. “He knows what he’s doing. Just because Sara--” she stopped as she realized she was gripping something in her hand. Dammit. She was still holding the papers from Lindsey’s school. “Folder. I need a folder.” She walked to the desk and sat down, methodically trying to smooth out the crumpled sheets. She opened one of the drawers she was sure had to have an empty folder in it. Her fingers moved through the dozens of files, trying to find one that looked unused. “Why can’t I find anything in this damn office? I’ve told-- there!” She pulled out a folder and opened it. “Fina… lly,” her voice trailed off as a single photograph appeared. She held it carefully, instantly recognizing the night it was taken, almost a year ago. But she’d never seen this picture before. She and Gil weren’t the only ones in it; in fact, it was a candid, panoramic shot of many of the guests that evening. But she and Gil might as well have been the only ones there. They were angled towards each other. She was saying something; what it was, she couldn’t remember. But she remembered the feel of his fingers on her elbow. And she remembered his smile – a rare, true Gil Grissom smile that usually made her smile. Like she was now. She chuckled. She was probably the only one who… Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, the photo sliding from her hand. Shit. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” her breathing started to become erratic, her pulse going a bit faster with each ‘no’ that she uttered. There was a building pressure in her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Dammit!” She stood up suddenly, the chair rolling into the shelves behind with a loud, clattering thud. She started pacing the small room, trying to keep up with the millions of thoughts invading her mind. One in particular. She barely heard the knock on the door. Warrick appeared, not bothering to wait for a response, and closed the door behind him. “Cath, everything all right?” He stayed a safe distance, not quite knowing how to interpret the scene before him. It was some time before Catherine stopped and turned his way, looking a bit startled to see him, as if she had just realized someone was there. “Warrick.” “Yeah…” Warrick said slowly, becoming concerned. “Are you okay?” Her humorless laugh said it all. “Yeah, peachy.” She sighed, shaking her head. “No. I…” “You…” Warrick prompted. She looked at him and said it, the words tumbling out. “I’m in love with Gil.” Warrick bit down, knowing this would not be the time to laugh, and subsequently die. He ventured forward a few steps, keeping his tone light. “I know.” “You know?” “Everybody knows.” Catherine’s voice rose. “Everybody knows?” Warrick nodded, “Yeah.” Catherine’s shoulders sagged. “Then why the Hell didn’t anyone tell -me-?” She wasn’t looking at him when she asked. It wasn’t really a question, but Warrick answered it anyway. “We thought you knew.” Catherine shook her head. Her voice fell to a near whisper. “I didn’t.” Tears began to sting her eyes, blurring her vision. She couldn’t stop them. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.” She closed her eyes against that realization, tears staining her cheeks. She felt Warrick pull her into an embrace. She held onto him as her body became tired and heavy, shaking as she cried. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but her tears eventually stopped. She was breathing normally. She seemed calm. But her arms remained around Warrick. “I just need a few more minutes.” “Hey, no rush.” Catherine was almost ready to let go when a slight rapping noise alerted them to somebody’s presence. She lifted and turned her head towards the door and felt her heart constrict. “Gil.” Part II Catherine stepped away from Warrick, turning from both men and quickly brushing away the wet traces left on her cheeks. “I already handed out the assignments,” Gil told them. “Warrick, you’re with Sara. She’s waiting outside.” His gaze moved to Catherine. The redness around her eyes stood out harshly against her fair skin, causing a reaction in him. She looked at him expectantly and he continued, his tone even. “We have an exciting night of paperwork ahead of us, Catherine.” She frowned. “What?” “We agreed on that yesterday,” he reminded her. “If it was a slow night, we’d both stay and do the paperwork that’s been piling up.” “Oh,” Catherine tried to think back, but her mind wasn’t cooperating. “Oh, right.” Silence ensued and Warrick took that as his cue to leave. “All right, well, I guess I’ll go do… what we do.” He made a quick exit, shutting the door behind him, leaving Gil, Catherine, and the empty space between them. Catherine spoke first. “I didn’t mean to be late.” “It’s fine.” Gil paused. “Do you want to talk about it?” “About what?” Gil sighed inwardly. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him. He briefly considered dropping the whole thing, but just as quickly decided against it. “About how much Warrick’s marriage affected you.” Catherine blinked. “Warr-- What?” It took a few moments for his words to fully process. “Where’d you get that from?” ‘From the private moment I just walked in on,’ he thought. “I overheard Nick and Greg mentioning it,” he said instead. “They’ve been busy.” Gil gave her a questioning look, but she waved him off. He went on, “But I already knew. That you were upset. About that. If you want to talk about it….” She shrugged. “It was unexpected. I’m over it.” He realized that was all she was going to say. “Okay,” he said, accepting her words, but not believing them. The signs that she’d been crying had started to fade, but they were still there. He didn’t tell her that. “But no one would blame you if you weren’t. Warrick’s a good guy. Better than the ones you--” He stopped himself too late. Catherine’s eyes flashed, her whole body tensing in anger. “Because God knows you-- ugh, never mind. I’m sick of having this conversation with you.” “I didn’t mean--” “Forget it. Let’s just get some of this junk cleared,” she motioned to the desk. “It took me forever to find a folder in this mess.” As she said the words, she remembered the photograph she’d discovered and quickly scanned for it. Before Gil could walk to the desk, Catherine reached over and took the papers from Lindsey’s school, covering the picture with them, taking it with her. “The reason I needed a folder,” she explained, as she moved to let him sit down. The letterhead from the papers caught his attention. “Butterflied?” he asked. “Lindsey’s new school?” Catherine looked at him, surprised. “That’s right. I didn’t think you knew.” “You mentioned it once. I remembered. How is she doing?” Catherine settled on top of the desk, her anger from just seconds before dissipating as she talked about her daughter. “She’s doing good. She’s made a few friends and her grades have already improved drastically from the last semester. And according to this,” she pointed to the papers in her hand, “she’s ‘adjusting well’”. The words still made her smile. He smiled, too. He loved her like this; happy. “That’s great, Catherine. Really. It was a good decision to send her there.” Her smile grew wider. “Thanks. I’m just so happy it’s working out, I can’t even tell you.” “I can tell.” There was no awkwardness as neither said anything else. They enjoyed the moment, both reluctant to let it go. It had become too much of an uncommon occurrence between them; being able to talk without one or the other becoming hurt or upset. They had missed that. “We should get to work,” Gil finally said. “Yeah.” Catherine slid off the desk and walked around it, grabbing a chair so she could sit across from him. They shared another smile before concentrating on the work ahead of them. Catherine started sorting the papers on her side of the desk. She was proud of herself. She was near him and wasn’t falling apart. She could do this. She couldn’t do this. “This is yours.” She thrust the offending paper in his direction, not looking at him. “What is it?” “It’s a hotel invoice. In Sara’s name. From Pioche.” He grimaced, taking the paper from her. Pioche. That town did not hold good memories for him. He stood up. “Thanks, I’ll go ahead and take care of it.” Catherine couldn’t help herself. “I’m sure you will.” Gil stopped at her words. “What does that mean?” “Well, it wasn’t just Sara there, right?” “No…” he answered, not understanding how they’d gone back to this palpable tension between them. “You know it was Sara, Greg--” She cut him off, finally looking at up him. “I’m talking about in the hotel room, Grissom. Greg already spilled the beans, so you should be prepared.” His frustration started to rise. “Spilled the beans about what, Catherine? Prepared for what?” She couldn’t believe it. He was actually going to make her say it. She tossed the pencil in her hand onto the desk and stood, determined not to have her voice crack. “For everyone knowing you slept with Sara.” “Slept with Sara? As in, had -sex- with Sara?” “Yes,” Catherine bit out. “Sex. With her.” She waited for him to confirm or, better yet, deny it, but he didn’t say anything. “Well?” “Well, what?” “Didn’t you?” “No!” He said it almost too forcefully, and he softened his tone. “I like Sara. She’s a good CSI.” Catherine rolled her eyes. “How romantic.” She turned to sit back down, but his fingers on her skin stopped her. He waited until she turned back to look at him before he spoke. “That’s just the point, Catherine. There is nothing romantic between me and her. There never has been. There never will be.” “How can you be so sure?” “I just am.” She shook her head, stepping closer to him, her head tilted so she could look directly at him. “No, tell me. There has to be a reason.” He tried not to get lost in the intense blue of her eyes. It made him want to say things he shouldn’t. “Tell me,” she said again, a little more urgently. Her voice was soft, entrancing. He could almost feel the words slipping out. Almost. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, regret lacing his words. “It does to me.” “Why?” The sigh that left her mouth carried her confession with it. “Because I love you, Gil.” Gil’s lips parted, but no sound came out. The piece of paper still in his hand slipped unnoticed onto the floor. Only seconds passed, but to Catherine his silence was endless and deafening. She needed to get out. She pulled away from him, nearly running to the door. It only took Gil a second to react. Her hand was pulling at the knob. His was pushing the door. “Let me go, Gil.” “No.” “Let me go!” “No.” She whirled around angrily, hot tears falling. His palms were flat on the door at each side of her, keeping her from moving, pissing her off even more. “Why the Hell not?” He didn’t say a word. Instead, he cupped her face with both hands, carefully wiping the tears with his thumbs. His movements were calm, steady, in direct contrast to her tight, defensive posture. His eyes caught and held her wounded gaze. He leaned in, his breath brushing her lips, finally answering her question. “Because I love you. I always have. I always will.” His words lingered between them, waiting for her to accept them. And she did. Her hands reached out and gripped his shirt, pulling him against her, claiming his mouth. There wasn’t a secret in the world that could come between them. The End |