Altered Emotions

Archive: If someone would tell me what that means…
Pairing: GC (No, I still don't 'ship them, this is completely for my wonderful fanfic reviewers)
Spoilers: Yeah, I think so; just for season six, though
Disclaimer: I do not own them, I never will. :bursts into sobs, then composes self: Sorry. It's kinda depressing sometimes.
Rating: T for language, and cause I'm paranoid, maybe…
A/N: This is for all the people that reviewed the other GC stories I've pulled out of absolutely nowhere. I am complying with one of their wishes and beginning this story. I have no idea how it will go or how it will end up (pairing-wise it'll definitely be GC) but other than that I don't know. It would mean a WHOLE lot if you would review and tell me how I'm doing for starters, and if it sucks, then I just plain won't continue. Thanks for taking the time to read my long and monotonous author's note, and again- PLEASE REVIEW!
-Shay

Prologue

He didn't know how, he didn't know where, he didn't know why- hell, he didn't even know when. But he did. He fell in love with his best friend, Catherine Willows. She was strong, smart, dedicated, stubborn, caring, nosy, and passionate- everything that he loved; everything that he hated.

It had to be her.

Damn.

I. Newton's First Law of Motion

"Every object persists in its state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it." ­–Sir Isaac Newton

Gil Grissom was an analytical man. He liked to study things. He was methodical, logical, rational, consistent, steady. Dependability was a key factor in his life- he liked to be able to depend on certain people, and he wanted to be dependable himself. Not in a scary, stalker kind of way, but a reliable individual, of sorts.

It was not unusual for him to spend hours pondering simple problems, like which pen wrote smoother on his paper. In the end, it was never solved, and he got frustrated. Mysteries of life, the Universe, and why things were the way they were plagued him at night, haunting his dreams, refusing to let him sleep.

Then there was Catherine.

With Catherine, there were no mysteries, no secrets, no wondering, no 'what if?' There was always openness, honesty, sincerity. It had always been that way, up until now. Things were strained; they barely talked anymore.

He wanted to blame it all on Ecklie, that s.o.b. that split up their team and caused the tension between the new swing shift and night shifts. Nevertheless, he couldn't, because, well, that would be childish and immature. Also, deep down inside, he believed that it was truly his fault for not being a better supervisor.

And so he spent more time, berating himself and scolding himself and going over the last few years in his mind, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He thought about quitting, he really did. More than once, actually. But he never did. Time and again, he had questioned his decision on remaining at the Las Vegas Crime Lab a few years ago. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that this was his life, and he was choosing the way to live it the way he chose to live it. No one had the power to control his life except himself, and he had finally learned to accept that extraordinary fact. Extraordinary, that is, to himself. Everyone else thought he was experiencing some kind of mid-life crisis. He laughed inwardly at the comments he heard. The concept might have had some sort of basis if he had been younger than he was. But a man pushing fifty, in his opinion, was well past mid-life.

Now, stability was still an important part of his life; however, it was not as important as it was. It was part of his past, along with a lot of other things he didn't particularly care to discuss with people he knew. Although, he mused, he knew a number of people, he was close to few of them.

Again, there was Catherine.

She challenged him, queried him at every turn; yet she was always there to support him when he needed it. She brought energy to his dull life, she was his rainbow after a thunderstorm, she was fun to be around, and she knew when to be quiet- most of the time.

He chuckled. Of course. She was still a woman. That one piece of information evaded him every once in a while. Women liked to talk about feelings, he liked to talk about anything but. Women liked to go shopping, he preferred to stay home and read books on butterflies and cycles of growth. So they would work things out. Take turns. One day he would take her to a museum, another, she would teach him to dance. He would drag her along on five roller coasters within the time range of an hour and a half, and in return, she would pressure him and beg him until he would go shopping with her for a party.

Yes, Gil Grissom enjoyed stability, but every once and a while, he didn't mind a change of pace, even if it was with a certain woman named Catherine Willows.