Lines
In every job, there are rules, guidelines, boundaries. Everyone is expected to follow them to the letter, and more often than not, personal suffering was a common result, although the makers of the rules assume that the people following them know how to deal with them. Like Grissom would often say, "Assume nothing".
Warrick often had these reflections when thinking about or being around Catherine Willows. It was no secret that he had developed a tremendous amount of feeling for her. He knew her well enough, so why shouldn't he? He saw her through the last years of her abusive marriage, helped her out with her daughter Lindsay, and was there for her when she needed to tell him something that could only stay between them.
His friendship and respect for her turned into a feeling that he often repressed because he was afraid that it would lead to another mistake, like with Lily.
But looking into her beautiful and captivating blue eyes, he knew that whatever happened between him and this woman would surely not be something he'd regret.
Warrick held Catherine in an embrace a little bit too comfortably, the feeling so right and commonplace that it scared him. It had been a long time since he last held her so closely; so close that their faces were a mere tantalizing inches apart, their lips close enough to make contact for the first time.
He knew that it was against departmental "policy" to have relations with other coworkers in the workplace, especially on the clock. It wasn't a written rule, it was just something that wasn't done by sheer de facto.
Warrick had lost count of how many lines he and Catherine had crossed in their moment of closeness, but when she smiled and wrapped her arms around him tighter, her eyes expressing more than words could say, he forgot about the rules and regulations as he crossed the final line into the oblivion of Catherine Willows.
Her crystal blue eyes twinkled as she smiled wider, then she sighed.
"Um," Catherine started as her grip loosened from around him. "We better get this stuff back to the lab."
"Yeah," Warrick agreed as he removed his hands slowly from the small of her back.
They reluctantly separated and grabbed their kits. It wasn't until then that Warrick realized that they hadn't chosen the most romantic time to cuddle. It was scorching hot, a reminder that the last few days of summer were going to be killers, and they had just finished gathering evidence from the bowels of Las Vegas. Literally. Crime scenes in sewers posed no fun. On top of that, they had on tank tops, utility vests, and company issued jumpsuits on for protection from the elements. It was a great thing that they weren't shallow in their attraction for each other, other wise, whatever feelings they had for each other would have been doomed.
He opened the back of their vehicle and they put their kits away and Catherine's hand brushed his. They both pretended not to notice.
They came into contact again when they bumped into each other trying to go opposing ways.
"Sorry," Catherine giggled.
Warrick grinned and went around her, but she went the same way, and they both laughed, all the while, electricity was spreading through their bodies.
Catherine indicated which direction she was going and Warrick nodded.
Warrick knew that it was going to be one of those shifts. The kind where for some particular reason he felt he had to be around Catherine the whole time, not necessarily invading her space, just hanging around, watching her, bantering with her, bouncing ideas with her.
They both glanced at each other and then looked away just as quickly.
It was going to be one of those long shifts.