MORE THAN THIS
Part 01: "Waiting For a Sign"

by Mickie; 05.01.29

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The bluish crime lab was a rain-cloud, brewing a storm and casting a grey atmosphere over everything; everyone in the building seemed on edge, off, and generally mischievous. Grissom immediately thought of the theory that full moons turn human behaviour to the weird and the moon, in fact, was full tonight. To him, there was nothing better than being in the middle of a living scientific experiment.

"Hey, boss, assignments?" Catherine disturbed his quiet pondering by barging into his office and knocking loudly as an afterthought.

"Just getting to it, my dear," he responded sardonically.

Warrick, Nick, and Sara were already waiting in the break room for their assignments, all looking down at their paper cups of coffee, stirring away with those little sticks. The walls were glass and through them, one could normally hear and see the chatter of science at work… but not tonight. It being the night before Halloween and all, Las Vegas was working with a skeleton crew. Only the processing whirr of numerous machines kept the workaholics that remained company.

"Okay, it's a busy night." Grissom walked in, flipping crime reports, and the coffee stirrers snapped to attention. "Nick, DB on the Strip…"

"Sweet," he grabbed the assignment sheet and left.

"Warrick, Summerlin, also a DB."

"Cool," he left towards the parking lot.

"And Sara, you have a 419 at the Sphere."

"Right on it," she drank the last of her coffee and left the room.

As the younger CSIs disappeared and Grissom remained stoically silent, Catherine Willows became anxious. This, being a rare event, made her even more anxious because she just knew Grissom would save a really juicy case for her and then be evil enough to flaunt it by pretending to shuffle papers.

After a beat, she asked: "Gil, what's for me?"

He turned his gaze from the papers and met hers with the look of a deer in the headlights of a semi-truck. "Whatever do you mean?" he replied innocently.

"Gil, arrrgh," Catherine leapt from her chair and walked pleadingly over to him. "Come on!"

"Oh, you meant what case do I have for you tonight?" Grissom singled out a specific crime report without looking away from her and waved it tantalizingly between them.

Catherine smiled, but only a bit, at his little game. She knew he was expecting her to snatch it away from him and read it at once. But, she was glad he was in such a good mood, lately he'd been too reserved for her liking, so she walked past him to the coffee machine and poured a cup. This, expectantly, had stunned him and he momentarily faltered.

"Don't you want to take a look at it?" he pressed, not quite so confident.

"Of course, but I just got here for crying out loud!" she stated mock-exasperatedly, "Let me get awake first," she leaned against the counter and casually sipped the bitter coffee, trying to hide the fact that it was burning her tongue.

For the slightest moment, his eyes sparkled and his mouth turned upwards at her performance but both were soon replaced with a quiet sigh and the look of a burnt-out man. This worried Catherine, but she would ask him about it later. Always later. Now was the time to get to work.

"Alright, give it to me," she said dejectedly and walked back over to him, standing where she knew was the slightest bit too close for him. He fidgeted and handed her the case without question.

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Grissom glanced out the passenger window at the dark streets as Catherine drove them to the scene. He heard her mutter obscenities under her breath as a pick-up truck cut them off. Rain poured down in waves and traffic was horrendous, everyone just wanting to get home. Grissom was thankful that Catherine was too preoccupied with getting them there to notice his brooding. Staring out at the rainy streets and the people rushing to get out of them, he thought about the only thing he had been thinking about for awhile – her.

Time seemed to be nonexistent and motion slowed. Catherine was navigating through a sea of cars when he turned to look at her. He felt guilty about their relationship now. He was distancing himself from her and they both knew it.

If he told her, would he lose her? The first time that thought struck his mind, he had stopped breathing for a few seconds. Now, it just depressed him. She might run off to Miami, away from him and towards that insufferable Horatio. His blood boiled at the thought of him. If she didn't physically run away, they'd still be different. Everything would be.

He'd lose her.

"Hey, you got it all figured out already?" A quirky tone snapped him back to reality. Somehow, they'd arrived already and Catherine was standing outside in the cold by his door, field kit in hand and jacket zipped up to her face which, despite her obvious resentment of the weather, contained a playful smile.

He hid the dark thoughts away for later. "Yes, can we go now?" Grissom gave her a small smile and got out of the Tahoe, following his best friend into hell.

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Catherine and Grissom entered the suburban home that was now their scene. Cops were standing near the door, talking to neighbours and writing on little notepads. Officers carried out two stretchers, each with a black body bag lumped on top. Then everyone was gone and the house became almost eerie. Catherine was glad she wasn't working this one alone; it already gave her the creeps.

"Husband and wife, throats cut. The wife was found in the bedroom and the husband's body was in the living room here," Grissom pointed to a pool of blood not far away on the beige carpet.

"I'll take the bedroom," Catherine said and walked down the hall of the comfortable, one-level house.

Grissom was already at work in the living room, taking a swab of the blood before photographing it and the corresponding splatter on the crème wall. He paused for a second and looked around. A sparkling object on the floor caught his eye. He picked it up; it was a diamond from what he could tell. Interesting. He bagged it.

"Hey, Gil, are you sure the wife was found in here?" Catherine called from the bedroom at the back of the small house.

"Yeah, Cath, it says right here," he yelled back. She didn't reply. "Cath?"

"Come here." He barely heard her.

Grissom walked in to find Catherine shining a flashlight over a cluttered desk in the corner of the room. Upon noticing his presence, she turned and her expression had him instantly intrigued. From the doorframe, he flicked the light-switch beside him and received nothing but a scowl from Catherine.

"You don't think I tried that?" she lifted an eyebrow mockingly.

"So what's this 'come here' business?" Grissom asked, taking out his own flashlight.

"Come here and find out," she replied. He did and Catherine handed him a type-written letter. He took it with gloved hands and read aloud.

"Dear Mr. Benjamin,
We regret to inform you that the tests run came back positive. Please call my office in a timely manner to arrange treatment.

Sincerely,
Dr. Burns."

Catherine was staring at him, most of her cheerful disposition replaced with curiosity. Whatever cheer he had conjured up since stepping out of the Tahoe had dissipated as well.

"Gil, it's postmarked today." If he didn't know better, he would say Catherine Willows was actually stalling.

"And..." Grissom prompted.

"This is weird," she replied with such earnest that Grissom could not say he didn't feel the same way.

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Back at the lab, the resident DNA processor, Greg Sanders, was swamped. Las Vegas is a freaky town and Halloween is the freakiest day of the year, as is the night before. Needless to say, he was up to his spiked hair in work. And he loved it, mostly because he had a passion for his job, and partly because he was processing Catherine's evidence tonight, which of course means she would have to stop by and check on him.

As if summoned by a divine spirit, he spied her coming towards him down the hall. Greg quickly made his desk presentable.

"Hey Greg, got anything for me yet?" she rested her hands on his desk.

"Uhh hey, Cath, I have the results of Grissom's evidence," he sat up and shuffled through his truly organized desk, "The supposed diamond is, in fact, a diamond and a very nice one at that. Computer says the grade is very good and it most likely came from a mine in Canada, probably the Yukon."

Catherine took the computer printout and read it herself. "Nifty," she replied.

"Yeah, I have this cousin who went up there on a spiritual journey, you know, the kind where you find gold. Anyway, he got a job as a mine guard. They pay you for that kinda stuff in Canada!" Greg gestured with his hands a lot, and Catherine raised her eyebrows and smiled in faked interest. "He said it was pretty fun, but really cold. Oh yeah, and he almost got attacked by a bison once!"

"Uh-huh, yeah, well what about the blood in the living room?" Catherine tentatively brought the loveable geek back to Earth.

"Oh, right. I was getting to that, you know, as part of the Canada story," he cleared his throat and leapt out of his chair to tend to his precious humming scientific machines. "As I was saying, my cousin was attacked by a bison. He didn't die, but should have. His jugular was partly severed by one of the bison's teeth." And with that, Greg whirled around and surprised Catherine with a printout of the blood tests.

She scanned it. "Human saliva in the blood?"

"A big juicy glob of it! Whoever killed this guy does not have very good table manners," Greg beamed.

Catherine looked disgusted, thanked Greg for his insight, and left him in his processing utopia.

As she mulled over Greg's colourful commentary, she absently walked towards Grissom's office. She should probably fill him in on this. No, she should. With a sigh, Catherine dismissed her disillusioned thoughts and headed for the only place they talked now.

------------------end (of part 01).