Disclaimer: CSI belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS...

~To Allie: Who reads and helps me write a bit faster...and is the best source of inspiration a museless person can ever have! Allie-Wan, you /are/ my only hope! :)

~To Angie: Who identifies with the whole 'I hate titles' thing quite well...and was there to listen to me whine about my need for a title.

Without A Sound

By Manda

Catherine Willows slammed her fist into the mound of meat and gristle, the gentle squish being the only sound heard in her otherwise empty kitchen. Lindsey had left for softball practice, under Eddie's watchful eye, and as Catherine had begun to aimlessly tidy up the kitchen, she'd come across a package of beef in the freezer, and the idea had come upon her to make hamburgers for Lindsey's eventual return. It was soothing, pounding her fingers into a mass of greasy, cold meat, feeling it yield beneath the pressure, and she'd begun to feel that there would be no hamburgers, but she would spend most of the afternoon molding the byproduct into peculiar shapes beneath her palms.

"I don't eat meat, remember?" She spun around, the chunk of hamburg in her fist as she stared across the silent kitchen at the man who leaned against the doorframe between kitchen and living room, blue eyes capturing her intently. She must have looked confused at his appearance, however, because he smiled and stepped further into the room. "Dinner, remember? We were going to go over the evaluations for Warrick, Nick, and Sara."

"Damn." She slapped her hand against her forehead abruptly, realizing too late that she still held the hamburg in her fingers. The grease stuck to her forehead, along with several meaty particles, and a soft groan escaped her lips. "I'm a mess, Grissom...I'm sorry I forgot to call. Lindsey's at softball practice until eight...I thought I'd make her hamburgers for dinner."

"That's fine." Grissom slid his arms around her waist as she turned back to the countertop, dropping the meat upon it. "We'll stay in."

"That's just what you'd like, admit it." She smiled and snuggled back into his embrace, grateful for the attention. He was due in for shift at eleven...she had been fortunate enough to land the night off...and she knew that every second with him that evening would be precious. "You know you're just a big sucker for attention."

"And I'd never deny it, if the attention is coming from the beautiful Miss Willows." She turned her head for a kiss and he gave her one, pressing his lips against hers before pulling her away into the center of the room.

"Wash your hands, Catherine...we're going for a walk."

"A walk." She shook her head in disagreement, pulling away and heading for the sink. "Gil...if I'm going to get dinner finished..."

"There's no hope for it now." Grissom pointed out, the delapidated hamburger already turning brown on the countertop as he gestured toward it. "We'll pick up another pound at the store...on our way back."

"All right, then..." Catherine sighed, running her hands beneath warm water and drying them on her jeans. Grissom held out her jacket, and she shrugged into it, giving him a playful slap on the upper arms as she turned toward the door. "You know your problem, Gil Grissom? You're too convincing for your own good."

"And you, Catherine Willows...still have hamburger meat on your forehead." She hissed at him, good-naturedly, as she headed back into the kitchen to wash off the offending meat product, and Grissom patiently waited on the front step for her to join him in the humid night air.

They walked along the quiet sidewalks of Henderson, streetlights illuminating the area and allowing them to move along unhindered by stray litter and roots peering between the cracks in the asphalt. Dogs barked in the distance, and Grissom turned his head toward them, a look appearing in his eyes that dug well into Catherine's subconcious, driving her to place her hand on his arm and ask the one question which had been digging at her thoughts like a dog worrying a bone.

"When is it going to happen, Gil?"

"What, Catherine?" He seemed surprised to hear her question, turning back to face her as they paused on the open sidewalk. But the ignorance triggered in her a great frustration, and she clenched her fingers around his arm as she repeated her query.

"Don't play dumb, Grissom...When are you going to completely lose your hearing?" At the arch of his eyebrow, she continued. "I know this is why you've been giving me shift, lately...but I couldn't avoid this chance to ask you. "

He was silent, turning his head back toward the distant howls, light in his eyes dimming along with the corner streetlight.

"It's been happening for a month, now...I'm still at my mid-range, but the Doctor says that it's going to continue to decline in the next few weeks." Suddenly, he looked older, crow's feet around his eyes deepening. With his black, button-down shirt and charcoal gray pants, he looked like part of the darkened streets, a ghost disappearing into the night without a sound. But she wasn't going to let that happen, and dug her fingers into the arm of his black leather jacket.

"I love you, Gil Grissom." The words, although quiet, were louder than the ambient sounds of the early evening, and she knew Grissom heard them, although he failed to immediately acknowledge them. Insistent, she pulled him closer, standing on her toes to hiss menacingly in his ear, "I love you, Gil Grissom...and I'm going to see you through this. No matter what."

His lips met hers, a fierce, unyielding kiss through which she felt much of his pain, his fear at the upcoming hurdles that he wasn't sure he could face. His mother had overcome her own similar problems, although at a price of losing her hearing permanently. Both of the CSI's were aware of the elective surgery to correct Grissom's problem...although the guilt Grissom felt at having what his mother could not...was more than evident.

"You deserve better, you know." He whispered in her ear as she leaned her head into his shoulder, and she nodded, hair brushing against his chin.

"I do...and you're it." She reached up to turn his eyes toward her, and sought in them the vulnerability she knew she would find, that which she wanted more than anything to protect. "If you do choose this surgery...know that nothing on earth will stop me from being there when you go through it...and nothing will stop me from being with you every single day for the rest of my life...no matter what your decision may be."

They stood beneath the flickering corner streetlight, then, Catherine's arms wrapped around his neck as they shared another kiss, this one more tender, more promising than the previous many had ever been. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around, curly strands of blond hair seeming molten gold as they flew in a circle, her blue eyes laughing up at him as he whispered the words she had already given the answer to, moments ago. She would marry him, he would marry her...she would be there when he woke up after the operation, and would grasp his hand for as long as they both would live. It was going to be perfect, no matter what.

"Mommy!" As they reached Catherine's front steps, fifteen minutes later, Eddie's jaguar pulled up to the curb and deposited Lindsey Willows, baseball uniform and freckled face strewn with dust and sand, blond braids thumping against her back as she flew up the stairs. "Mommy, we won the practice game! I hit a home run!"

"That's wonderful, sweetheart." Catherine reached to straighten the child's baseball cap as she flew past and into Grissom's waiting arms. He pulled her up, spinning her in a celebratory fashion as she shrieked with pleasure. Catherine smiled wistfully at the reaction in Grissom's face, the emotion carefully suppressed to just the right degree as he watched Lindsey push her way through the front door. "Go wash up for dinner, Lindsey!"

"Speaking of dinner...we forgot about it." Grissom reminded her, and she shook her head, dropping her hand down to wrap her fingers securely in his. "It's all right. We'll just heat up the leftover spaghetti. You do eat spaghetti...?" She teased, and he gently tweaked her nose as she headed past him.

"Of course I do...unless you've killed millions of innocent noodles just for my benefit." Her laughter energized him, and as he entered the house, he made the one decision that meant, possibly, he would be able to hear that sound forever. He would have that surgery, and when it was over...He would have her voice to wake up to.

-Fin