'A Season of Change' Part One
By: Allison
Disclaimer: I will never own these characters, though I had hoped for CBS to wrap them up as a nice Christmas gift for me....oh well, maybe next year.
A/N: This is a continuation...a continuation is this...clueless as to what's going on? Read the first story, "My Thanksgiving" and all shall become clear. It has been written for the twelve days of Christmas going on at GraveShiftCSI. Technically my day is tomorrow...but I am posting this today to get the ball rolling.
Summary: An incident at a crime scene has Catherine and Grissom on edge.... And leaves one of the other CSI's wondering about what the two are hiding.
Dusk fell upon Las Vegas, casting shadows on the ground, letting the sins of the night run rampant through the streets. The members of the LVPD CSI night shift yearned for these types of nights; where time could be spent gathering evidence, avoiding talk of the yearly Christmas party, held for the first time at Grissom's townhouse. Gathering themselves, in the layout room, they anxiously awaited the assignments they were to be given.
"Sara, Nick...Jumper at the Monoco. 33 years old. Warrick, Catherine, you're with me," Grissom stated his eyes never leaving the case files.
"Gris. What do we got?" the younger CSI rose, pushing back his chair back as he spoke.
"Robbery gone bad.... two dead bodies at a jewelry store downtown, a place called Seagle's Jewelry."
"Swanky..."
Catherine Willows raked her fingers through her short blonde hair, her body leaning against the doorframe of the break room, clearly pleased with her reply. Glancing over the tops of his wire frame glasses Grissom couldn't tell if her reason for being there was merely for the effect of her somewhat sarcastic comment, or because she was genuinely exhausted. He assumed it was the latter.
Sending a half smile in his direction, Catherine moved out into the hallway, each step lighted-hearted, and yet, still a little more laborious than the next. He knew she needed a break. She'd only been back three and a half weeks and already she was pushing her limits, maxing out on overtime like the rest of them. Off handedly he wondered if he should mention something about it to her after shift.
"Yo Gris! You coming?"
The room was deserted now, minus himself and the case file he was still holding. Sara and Nick had already left for their scene. Sighing heavily and setting his misgivings aside for the time being, Grissom picked up his field kit and headed for the door.
* * * *
As the three entered the now abandoned jewelry store, their eyes flicked over each area of it, attempting to catch even the tiniest of clues.
"Warrick, you start with the register, and the area surrounding it. Catherine, behind the register. I'm going to talk to this witness Brass rounded up."
Catherine and Warrick exchanged puzzled looks with each other at Grissom's odd behavior. Known quite well for his lack of people skills, he usually passed off the questioning to one of the other CSI's. Catherine meant to ask him about it, but when she turned her head back in Grissom's direction, he was gone.
"Hey Warrick! Pass me a pair of tweezers, would ya? Top left side of my kit."
Spying an errant hair on the carpet in front of her, Catherine squatted down and grabbed it with the tweezers she had just been handed. Suddenly the ground beneath had become very unstable for her, and she teetered to the point of nearly falling over. Like a merry-go-round that didn't stop, the room spun until Catherine felt the overwhelming urge to throw up.
'Not now, please not now.' She thought, right arm flailing, trying to find something anything that would support her. No longer caring whether she would upset the crime scene in front of her, she dropped to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Cath? Catherine? Are you alright? Talk to me!"
Warrick was shouting in her ear, shaking her shoulder in hopes that he would get some sort of response. For a second he thought her heard a muffled reply but he wasn't sure. "Grissom, hey Grissom!" Warrick hoped that he was within earshot. There was no way he was going to leave Catherine there alone, in the state she was in.
"Get Grissom, please? Warrick..." He would know what to do; he could offer her some much needed assistance.
"Cath he's coming...shh.." Still her eyes weren't open, rubbing her back gently he heared another barely audible mutter, 'bathroom'.
"Bathroom? Catherine, do you need to throw up?" But she didn't answer. And Warrick was forced to wait until Grissom arrived.
* * * *
"Ma'am, could you describe the assailant for me? Height, hair color, build...anything would be helpful."
Grissom wondered why he had taken this task as opposed to dusting for prints or taking photos. Catherine was much better at it than he was. He hadn't wanted to make her feel like he was watching her all the time; and Warrick was with her, so he'd let her work the scene. She knew how to handle herself but still he wished she would take things slower.
"Grissom, hey Grissom!"
Warrick was shouting at him from inside the store, a sense of urgency in his voice. Immediately Grissom's heart sank and he abandoned the woman on the corner.
"Sir? Sir, are we finished? Can I go? Sir?!"
Grissom paid little attention to the woman's antics; in his gut, he knew something was very wrong. Crossing the street on his way back to Seagle's he could only speculate as to what it was.
The door was partially open when he made it over there, bells dangling on the handle that signaled each customer's entry. Warrick was squatting down behind the register.
"Gris, its Catherine.... she won't tell me what's wrong. One minute she's gathering evidence, the next she's on the floor. I tried to help, but she told me to get you."
"Catherine?" he whispered, crouching down to face her. "Cath, look at me, please? Are you alright?"
He knew why she wanted him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew something like this could happen. And, for a moment, it filled him with a sense of pure terror.
"Please, open your eyes and look at me."
Responding to his worry riddled tone, her eyes opened slightly, and he slipped his arm around her.
"Come on, let's get you outside..."
Pulling Catherine to her feet, he felt her stumble and readjusted his arms; wrapping them around her waist as she nestled her left arm around his neck. 'Please god, let her be alright.'
TBC...
By: Allison
Disclaimer: I will never own these characters, though I had hoped for CBS to wrap them up as a nice Christmas gift for me....oh well, maybe next year.
A/N: This is a continuation...a continuation is this...clueless as to what's going on? Read the first story, "My Thanksgiving" and all shall become clear. It has been written for the twelve days of Christmas going on at GraveShiftCSI. Technically my day is tomorrow...but I am posting this today to get the ball rolling.
Summary: An incident at a crime scene has Catherine and Grissom on edge.... And leaves one of the other CSI's wondering about what the two are hiding.
Dusk fell upon Las Vegas, casting shadows on the ground, letting the sins of the night run rampant through the streets. The members of the LVPD CSI night shift yearned for these types of nights; where time could be spent gathering evidence, avoiding talk of the yearly Christmas party, held for the first time at Grissom's townhouse. Gathering themselves, in the layout room, they anxiously awaited the assignments they were to be given.
"Sara, Nick...Jumper at the Monoco. 33 years old. Warrick, Catherine, you're with me," Grissom stated his eyes never leaving the case files.
"Gris. What do we got?" the younger CSI rose, pushing back his chair back as he spoke.
"Robbery gone bad.... two dead bodies at a jewelry store downtown, a place called Seagle's Jewelry."
"Swanky..."
Catherine Willows raked her fingers through her short blonde hair, her body leaning against the doorframe of the break room, clearly pleased with her reply. Glancing over the tops of his wire frame glasses Grissom couldn't tell if her reason for being there was merely for the effect of her somewhat sarcastic comment, or because she was genuinely exhausted. He assumed it was the latter.
Sending a half smile in his direction, Catherine moved out into the hallway, each step lighted-hearted, and yet, still a little more laborious than the next. He knew she needed a break. She'd only been back three and a half weeks and already she was pushing her limits, maxing out on overtime like the rest of them. Off handedly he wondered if he should mention something about it to her after shift.
"Yo Gris! You coming?"
The room was deserted now, minus himself and the case file he was still holding. Sara and Nick had already left for their scene. Sighing heavily and setting his misgivings aside for the time being, Grissom picked up his field kit and headed for the door.
* * * *
As the three entered the now abandoned jewelry store, their eyes flicked over each area of it, attempting to catch even the tiniest of clues.
"Warrick, you start with the register, and the area surrounding it. Catherine, behind the register. I'm going to talk to this witness Brass rounded up."
Catherine and Warrick exchanged puzzled looks with each other at Grissom's odd behavior. Known quite well for his lack of people skills, he usually passed off the questioning to one of the other CSI's. Catherine meant to ask him about it, but when she turned her head back in Grissom's direction, he was gone.
"Hey Warrick! Pass me a pair of tweezers, would ya? Top left side of my kit."
Spying an errant hair on the carpet in front of her, Catherine squatted down and grabbed it with the tweezers she had just been handed. Suddenly the ground beneath had become very unstable for her, and she teetered to the point of nearly falling over. Like a merry-go-round that didn't stop, the room spun until Catherine felt the overwhelming urge to throw up.
'Not now, please not now.' She thought, right arm flailing, trying to find something anything that would support her. No longer caring whether she would upset the crime scene in front of her, she dropped to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Cath? Catherine? Are you alright? Talk to me!"
Warrick was shouting in her ear, shaking her shoulder in hopes that he would get some sort of response. For a second he thought her heard a muffled reply but he wasn't sure. "Grissom, hey Grissom!" Warrick hoped that he was within earshot. There was no way he was going to leave Catherine there alone, in the state she was in.
"Get Grissom, please? Warrick..." He would know what to do; he could offer her some much needed assistance.
"Cath he's coming...shh.." Still her eyes weren't open, rubbing her back gently he heared another barely audible mutter, 'bathroom'.
"Bathroom? Catherine, do you need to throw up?" But she didn't answer. And Warrick was forced to wait until Grissom arrived.
* * * *
"Ma'am, could you describe the assailant for me? Height, hair color, build...anything would be helpful."
Grissom wondered why he had taken this task as opposed to dusting for prints or taking photos. Catherine was much better at it than he was. He hadn't wanted to make her feel like he was watching her all the time; and Warrick was with her, so he'd let her work the scene. She knew how to handle herself but still he wished she would take things slower.
"Grissom, hey Grissom!"
Warrick was shouting at him from inside the store, a sense of urgency in his voice. Immediately Grissom's heart sank and he abandoned the woman on the corner.
"Sir? Sir, are we finished? Can I go? Sir?!"
Grissom paid little attention to the woman's antics; in his gut, he knew something was very wrong. Crossing the street on his way back to Seagle's he could only speculate as to what it was.
The door was partially open when he made it over there, bells dangling on the handle that signaled each customer's entry. Warrick was squatting down behind the register.
"Gris, its Catherine.... she won't tell me what's wrong. One minute she's gathering evidence, the next she's on the floor. I tried to help, but she told me to get you."
"Catherine?" he whispered, crouching down to face her. "Cath, look at me, please? Are you alright?"
He knew why she wanted him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew something like this could happen. And, for a moment, it filled him with a sense of pure terror.
"Please, open your eyes and look at me."
Responding to his worry riddled tone, her eyes opened slightly, and he slipped his arm around her.
"Come on, let's get you outside..."
Pulling Catherine to her feet, he felt her stumble and readjusted his arms; wrapping them around her waist as she nestled her left arm around his neck. 'Please god, let her be alright.'
TBC...