Title: Mere Minutes

Author: Katie

Spoilers: Season 4 – A Little Murder; Season 9 – The Gone Dead Train

Disclaimer: CSI doesn't belong to me. If it did, I would sure drive something much sportier and faster without a top. So please don't sue!

Rating: T

Pairing: Catherine/Ray…Wilston!

Summary: After Catherine's attacked, she finds comfort from the last person she expects.

Author's Note: So, I got me a beta, and I happened to mention that this one has been sitting on my computer for awhile now, and she asked to see it. Despite being an avid YoBling fan (and why the heck not!) she liked it, and I thought that I might as well post it and see what everyone else thinks. I honestly don't know where this came from. I'm not a huge fan of Ray, but there was something about the hug in No Way Out that Ray/Cath shared that made me wonder what the pairing would be like. I believe that this is the first Wilston fic out there, so, uh…I hope I'm not the one to start the trend. Anywhos, drop a review and let me know what you think.

Also, thanks to Taylor for beta-ing and for the encouragement here, and the inspiration for the title. =)

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She looked so peaceful.

Dr. Raymond Langston stood in the doorway of his supervisor's office, watching his boss with some amusement and a hint of sadness. He could only imagine what the reaction would be if Nick, Greg, Hodges, Wendy, or Riley were to walk in the room right now.

Catherine Willows was asleep – no – asleep wasn't a strong enough term. She was knocked out.

It was half an hour past the end of their shift, but Ray suspected that Catherine had been asleep for much longer than that. Her body had been through the ringer over the past few days, between being attacked, having to get a tetanus shot, and then having to get the prophylaxis shot. Ecklie had tried to convince Catherine to take a few days off, but she had insisted that she was fine, that she had a team to lead.

Uh huh…right.

One minor concussion, a deep bite wound to her wrist, numerous bumps, bruises, and scratches, soreness, and a case of rabies, but Catherine was 'fine'.

Ray supposed that Catherine should be thanking her lucky stars that it hadn't been worse. In reading her statement, Ray learned that Catherine had been blitzed and quickly overpowered by the rabid woman that she had gone to talk to. Catherine hadn't been able to defend herself or even get a single hit in, and it was by sheer dumb luck that she was still alive. After all, the woman had knocked Catherine's gun away like it was nothing, and had proceeded to toss her like a rag doll from corner to corner of the room.

He didn't want to think about that, though.

Ray silently watched Catherine sleep. Her head was resting on her forearm, her injured wrist stretched out in front of her, the white bandage stark against her pale skin. There was a pen dangling from her fingers, the ink of her ballpoint pen undoubtedly making jagged lines along her report as she breathed in and out. The white bandages, as well as the bruise that ran along her left forearm, the scratch marks on her neck, and the band-aid covering her prophylaxis shot were the only visible indicators of the battle that she had been in just two days before.

Beneath her shirt and pants, though, Ray knew that Catherine was hiding many more bruises. After all, he had seen the photographs of her injuries as well.

Ray made his way over to where Catherine rested, reaching over and shaking her left shoulder carefully. The last thing that he wanted to do was cause her any discomfort. He knew that Catherine's shoulder was aching from both Darla Kelly repeatedly pulling Catherine back when she attempted to get away from the crazed woman, and then her being thrown into the wall. "Catherine, wake up," Ray said softly.

Catherine slowly forced her eyes open, her bleary eyes meeting Ray's beneath the curtain of strawberry blond strands that had fallen in her face. She cleared her throat softly, sitting up and stretching her stiff muscles.

"I wasn't sleeping," she informed Ray, shaking her hair from in front of her face. "I was just resting my eyes."

He chuckled in response, his gaze focused on Catherine's movements. She slowly stood, a hand on her back as she struggled to her feet. "Are you okay, Catherine?" Ray couldn't help but ask. It looked as if she were about to fall over at any moment, and for a moment Ray wondered if she was having side effects to her concussion.

"I'm fine," Catherine waved off his concern with a flick of her uninjured wrist, carefully rolling her neck to ease some of the stiffness. "I'm just stiff. The desk wasn't designed to take a nap on."

"I though you were just resting you eyes, though," Ray couldn't help but banter with Catherine, and he was rewarded with a brief smile.

"I just said that to make sure that you were paying attention to me," Catherine shot back silkily.

"Well, I was," Ray answered.

Catherine nodded, her fingers playing with the loose gauze wrapped around her wrist. "What did you need me for?" she asked.

Ray ignored her question, his eyes taking in the bandage around her wrist. The wrap job wasn't good, and Ray could only guess that Catherine had been the one who had struggled to do it herself without bothering to ask anyone to help.

"I…does that hurt?" Ray couldn't help but ask, gesturing to her hand.

Catherine's eyes trailed down, taking in the bandage. She lifted her hand, examining the bandage before admitting, "A little."

"Does it need to be wrapped again?" Ray asked.

"Yeah, but I'll do it in a little bit," Catherine waved him off. "It's fine, I'm going to go home and-"

"Catherine," Ray cut her off gently. "I'll do it for you."

"You don't have to," Catherine protested.

"I want to," Ray told her. "Why don't you tell me where you have the gauze and tape and everything, and I'll wrap it for you?"

Catherine stared back at Ray for several long moments before sitting back in her seat and turning to a drawer attached to her desk. Opening it, she pulled out a roll of gauze and tape, as well as a pair of small surgical scissors and a tube of Neosporin. She set the items on the desk, watching as Ray pulled a chair around and settled down next to her.

Without speaking, he carefully took her hand into his, gently tugging at the tape on the gauze that wrapped her wrist. It didn't take much to pull it off, and Ray sucked in a breath as he unwrapped the gauze and carefully looked at her wound.

It wasn't as bad as he expected, but it was still nasty looking. There were two lines that formed a circle, which were obviously the bite marks that Darla had inflicted on her. However, there was a large bruise around the wound. Ray looked from the wound to Catherine's face, and she merely shrugged halfheartedly. "I bruise easily," Catherine said nonchalantly.

Ray frowned, glancing back at the wound. "Do you have any antiseptic wipes?" Ray asked Catherine.

She rifled through the drawer with her left hand until she found the wipes. She watched, somewhat mesmerized at Ray tore open the package, gently wiping around the wounded area. She couldn't help but hiss when the swab touched her wound and it stung. Ray glanced at Catherine, worried, and she simply shook her head in an indication for him to continue.

Catherine gaze moved from the bite wound to Ray's face, and she simply stared at him for several long moments. He glanced up, the light grasp he had on her wrist suddenly sending warm tingles through her skin.

"Is…" For some reason, Catherine felt as if her mouth was filled with sawdust all of a sudden, the awareness of how close their bodies were finally dawning on the two of them.

Their knees were brushing against each other's, the dark jeans that Catherine was wearing contrasting the khaki pants that Ray donned. His hand was holding her wrist, and it suddenly occurred to Catherine that she had subconsciously placed her hand on his knee. Their faces were mere inches apart, and Catherine couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

Ray had to fight the urge to press his lips against Catherine's, knowing that kissing his supervisor would not be a good idea. "What were you going to ask?" he finally asked roughly, tearing his eyes from the mesmerizing gaze that Catherine had inflicted upon him.

She blinked, trying desperately to remember what she was going to ask him. "Is…is it infected?" Catherine finally managed to ask.

Ray cleared his throat, glancing down at the bite mark. "No, it looks healthy," Ray answered, reaching for the Neosporin. "You've been slathering this stuff on, haven't you?" he asked, unscrewing the tube and squeezing a little bit above her cut.

Catherine nodded in reply, noticing the way that Ray carefully worked to massage the Neosporin over her broken skin. "Do you think that it's going to scar?" Catherine finally asked to break the silence in the room.

Ray glanced at the wound, then looked up at Catherine. "I think that you're going to have a light scar," Ray admitted. "But it probably won't be anything noticeable," he added hastily.

Catherine gave a halfhearted shrug. "Well, it wouldn't really be worth getting my ass kicked if I didn't have anything to show for it," she joked lightly. "It's not my first wound thanks to this job."

Ray snapped his gaze up to Catherine, frowning deeply as he looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked roughly. "What happened?"

Catherine blinked, suddenly remembering that Ray was new and wouldn't know about that case, as it was a day that she had blocked from her memory for the obvious reasons. She shrugged again, then told him, "About six years ago, I went to what was initially a home invasion gone wrong. Warrick…" Catherine had to pause to regain her bearings at the mention of his name, "Warrick Brown was on his way, and the officer at the scene…Officer Akers, actually – you may have worked with him once or twice – he was about to throw up all over the crime scene, so I sent him out of the house."

She laughed bitterly, and Ray prompted her, "And then what happened?" As he asked this, he picked up the gauze and began carefully wrapping her hand.

"I was moving along the room, dusting for fingerprints, when all of a sudden, I got powder on my fingers. I looked at my fingers, and all of the sudden, the hair on the back of my neck stood up…something didn't feel right. So, I looked up, and before I knew it, this guy came bursting from behind a screen and was pushing me toward the wall."

"What did you do?" Ray asked, amazed.

"I did the only thing I could do," Catherine replied. "I fought back. I pushed, I resisted, I struggled…he was so strong, though, and quickly shoved me against the wall. The whole time I was screaming for the cops that the suspect was still on location, and I managed to turn my body. I saw his left hand coming toward my face, and I managed to deflect that."

"Did you take him down?!" Ray questioned incredulously.

"No," Catherine scoffed. "He hit me with a right cross so hard that it sent me sailing across the floor right into the dead body."

"Ouch," Ray answered sympathetically, tearing off some medical tape and placing it on the gauze to secure it around her wrist. "What happened next?"

"The cops and Warrick came barreling in, but the suspect was long gone. I swabbed my wound and bagged my clothes and all, then continued processing the scene," Catherine told Ray with a shrug, admiring the way that he had tightly yet efficiently wrapped her injured wrist.

"Where did he hit you?"

Catherine noted that Ray was still holding her wrist, so she used her left hand to brush her hair out of the way. "It's really faint, but it's there," Catherine told Ray.

He leaned forward, hesitantly raising his free hand to move the errant strands away as he looked closely for the scar. Sure enough, at her hairline sat a faint white line, barely visible to the eye, hence the reason he had never seen it before. There was another light scar parallel to that, but Ray didn't feel the need to ask her about it…at least not yet.

"Did you ever catch the guy?" Ray asked, bringing his eyes to meet Catherine's.

"Yeah, we traced the guy to the restaurant he worked at through the owner." It was suddenly becoming hard to talk again for some reason, most likely because of the fact that Ray's face was again inches from hers, and somehow, his fingers had moved from her wrist to interlock with hers.

Ray nodded, then asked softly, "Were you scared?"

Catherine gazed at him, feeling the tension running through her body. This isn't right! Her brain screamed at her. "When…then or yesterday?" she managed to ask.

"Both times."

"I was terrified," Catherine admitted softly. "Just…don't tell anyone, okay?"

She froze. Those were the exact words she uttered to Warrick as they stood outside, his arms wrapped around her in a caring embrace. Gasping, she pulled her hand from his, ignoring the twinge of pain as she stood, walking away from Ray and turning her back to the rookie CSI.

Catherine braced herself against the bookshelf with her uninjured wrist, staring down at the picture of herself and Grissom that sat atop her bookshelf for several long moments. That was such a fun day. They had had a barbecue at Nick's house one day before shift, and they were all feeling goofy and had taken a ton of pictures. In fact, this picture was taken the same day as the one that she had seen on Warrick's dresser when she had gone to pick him up clothing when he'd been arrested. Catherine bit back tears, remembering how she had smiled as she looked at that photograph, thinking to herself how much they were a family. Now, they were all split up…Warrick was dead, Grissom and Sara were off doing Lord only knew what, and Greg and Nick were with her. My, what a difference a year makes.

She was suddenly aware of the fact that Ray stood behind her, his body close to hers. She turned slowly, noting that Ray had shut the door to her office, giving them privacy. He must have noticed the tears that were threatening to spill over any second.

Hesitantly, Ray placed his hands on Catherine's shoulders, relieved that she didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, she meekly looked up at him, suddenly painfully aware of how much bigger he was then her. She swallowed, meeting Ray's intense gaze.

His hand slowly moved to the back of Catherine's neck, gently pulling her closer, dipping his head down so that his lips were dangerously close to hers. Ray's eyes met Catherine's, and when he saw no hesitation or reluctance in her gaze, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Catherine's.

She relished the feel of his soft lips against hers, and Catherine moved her arms to wrap them around Ray's neck, pulling him closer. He responded by wrapping his other arm around Catherine's waist, kissing her gently.

Finally, they broke apart, both breathing hard. Catherine closed her eyes and rested her head against Ray's chest, relieved that he had his arm around her waist. Her knees were weak after the kiss that they shared, and she feared that her legs would collapse beneath her.

They stood in silence for several long moments, simply enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed against one another. "I'm…I'm sorry, Catherine," Ray finally spoke up. "That was highly unprofessional of me."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Catherine whispered back. "In fact…thank you."

"For what?" Ray asked, puzzled as to what she could possibly be thanking him for.

Catherine closed her eyes briefly before reopening them. "For reminding me that it's okay to feel…"

With that, she pressed her lips to Ray's, relishing the new connection that they appeared to have formed in mere minutes.

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End 1/1