Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own them. If I did, they'd be together. Do you think if I wrote to CBS they'd send Billy Petersen to be chained up to my bed for my birthday? No? Oh well, a girl can dream.

A/N: So, I haven't exactly abandoned An Innocent Love, I just don't know where to take it so if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to send them out and I'll try to work them in.

I'll admit to it…I am a huge fan of G/LH and miss Lady Heather so much. So, I decided to write this as a kind of tribute to all the "whipper" fans out there. I also currently don't have a beta, so any mistakes and plot holes are completely my fault. If anyone is interested in beta'ing for me, please let me know.

Losing Balance: Chapter 1

Gil Grissom had now spent the last hour, sitting in his car outside of the house. He kept telling himself that he was just waiting for the perfect moment; for the perfect words. The reality was he was trying to gather the courage to face her again. He told himself that he'd only followed protocol. That was it. He refused to admit that he'd gotten scared and had used the most convenient excuse to pull back from the edge she kept him on.

This is it; I've been sitting here long enough. It's time to make a decision. I could drive away now and no one would ever know the difference. No one except him. He would know that he'd been too much of a coward to face her after her earlier hostility. She had told him once that his biggest fear was being known. She was wrong, that was only part of it. Now, he was also afraid that he was losing his balance.

He had told her that he knew who he was. The truth of the matter was that he was no longer entirely happy with that. When he was with her, he felt liberated and free to be a human being…to feel. But, it terrified him that it was her personal strength that brought those feelings out in him. He was afraid of truly needing her.

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Lady Heather Kessler had been pacing in front of her window for quite some time. She couldn't understand what he was doing here again. She had believed she'd made it clear that he'd betrayed her trust, and no words could fix that. He'd used his job, as an excuse to pull away from her, and an offence like that would take a while to forgive.

She stopped again to glance down on him, figuring by now he would have backed out again. This wasn't the first time since the murder case involving Chloe had been closed that the lovely Mr. Grissom had been parked outside the house. Oh no, not by far. He had been here at least every other day. He had still not gathered the nerve to approach her.

Something was different as Lady Heather looked down on the car this time. Grissom was no longer in the car, and as she started to scan the grounds for him, she caught the movement of him reaching for the doorbell in her peripheral vision.

GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH GLH

One of the few girls he actually recognized, Jada, answered the door. She was dressed in a red corset and a black skirt that was slit up to almost the top of her thigh on both sides.

"Welcome to Lady Heather's-oh! Mr. Grissom…Lady Heather did not say she was expecting you tonight. I will make her aware of your arrival."

Gil nodded, before realizing the girl had already left. He was starting to believe this really was a terrible idea. What was Heather going to say when she found out he was here? Would she even come down to meet him? She was too proud to have Jada send him away on her behalf. At least, he hoped she was.

He began to nervously wander the entrance hall, taking in the decoration in detail, as he had done so many times before. He had no idea how much time had passed since the door had been opened. What had it been? Two minutes? Five? Fifteen? He had moved from painting to painting, checking out a few of the sculptures as well. He was currently admiring an oil painting of a god-like man, with many women seated around his feet. Many of the women were touching him in some way, as if they drew their strength and will from the lightest touch of his skin.

He froze as he heard the slow, barely-there brushing of heels against the carpet runner on the stairs. Anyone not accustomed to listening for the sounds of her footsteps would have missed it. But, even with his fading hearing, he could feel her presence enter the space. He felt her pause on the stairs, but refused to turn around until she acknowledged him. He would not begin to explain himself if all she planned to do was turn him away.

"Mr. Grissom, I've been expecting you. What has it been…six nights now that you've sat outside in your car, gathering courage to face me."

He hated that she could read him so well, but at the same time appreciated that she only knew his fears…she never judged them.

"I owe you an explanation. I should have given one to you before my apology, but I didn't think of it. Then I was afraid you wouldn't give me the chance."

She allowed her gaze to run from his eyes, to his feet, and back again. As he met her gaze, he saw a hint of forgiveness, and an even smaller amount of something he couldn't name…it seemed almost like…appreciation.

"I guess anyone who is willing to spend that many nights sitting outside my house deserves the chance to explain their reasoning. Come with me, we'll have some tea on the balcony."

As she walked away, he began to thank his lucky charms that she seemed willing to give him a second chance. He vowed to try his hardest never to screw this up again.