It was an oddly cold night in Vegas, and the fact that Catherine had neither brought her jacket nor worn long sleeves. She had been waiting outside the crime scene for almost two hours, something about clearance and the government and whatever other bullshit they could think of to drag this out. Gil had never had this problem when he was supervisor, but since he had left and Warrick was gone, Nick was on vacation, Greg had the flu, and Sarah had taken a case outside the city for a small department she was left alone. She didn't even know any of the cops, no one she could even get a blanket from so she just stood by her Denali facing the crime scene shivering.
Thinking back she realized how much she missed everyone and the way things used to be especially one particular set of hazel eyes. She missed the smile that went with them and the laughter that seemed to light up the room and most of all she missed the things she had never said. The smell of those eyes was one thing that hurt the most she would smell the cologne and look around even though she smelled it now she kept her eyes straight ahead, blinking back the tears. There had been no warning one day those hazel eyes were just gone, along with the deep voice and gentle hands that had comforted her through so much, but had never dared to cross that line. Looking back she wished that they had, but then again would the pain be worse.
"CSI Willows did you hear me, it will probably be at least another half hour before we can let you in. Maybe you would be warmer in your vehicle."
"Thank you officer, but right now the cold is good. It makes the coldness inside not seem as empty."
"Sorry for your loss, ma'am."
She knew the young man was only being polite, but she also knew he had no clue what kind of loss she had suffered. She had broken inside over and over again. She was happy for Sarah and Gil but couldn't help being envious of what they have, which made her feel like dirt. All of this was because of a pair of hazel eyes that had been left her before she ever got to truly look into them.
She smelled that cologne again only this time it was so strong she swore she could feel a leather jacket placed around her shoulders. Noticing it was real she turned around to thank the owner and instead found herself staring up into those hazel eyes she had spent the last year dreaming about, then that deep voice she had heard every night in her dreams spoke.
"Hello Catherine."
Finally finding what was left of her voice she managed to speak, or squeak.
"Hello Sofia."
