Disclaimer: Don't own them. Just borrowed them to play with.
Author's Note: Many thank yous to Laurie for beta reading and general encouragment! Gil Grissom was a precise man, his words and actions carefully chosen, but tonight he found himself out of his depth. His fear at the prospect of losing Heather had surpassed his fear of allowing her to get too close. Now, at the site of her, his sole focus was to reach her. He needed to touch her, feel her in his arms if she would allow it - reassure himself that his fears had been unfounded. He understood that there was no rationality in it, but for once that didn't seem to matter.

"Heather."

She turned to him at the sound of her name, drawing herself up as he approached and fixing him with a look of studied indifference. Under other circumstances, it would have stopped him... but not tonight. He stopped only when he was close enough to feel the heat of her body. He took her face in his hands before she could protest, staring intently into her eyes. There had been ice in her stare, but it quickly melted into confusion, and then concern.

"What happened?"

"There was an assault. One of your girls is in a coma."

She drew in a deep breath and her eyes narrowed.

"Lyla."

It was not a question.
Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"How did you...?"

"Because you thought it was me."

She watched the corners of his mouth quirk in a rueful smile and matched it with one of her own.

"I'm fine." He nodded, thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Tell me about Lyla."

He allowed his hands to drop from her face, but only as far as her shoulders, unwilling to relinquish the contact.

"There's not much to tell yet. She was beaten badly. I'm told her face was unrecognizable, but the ambulance had gone by the time I got here."

"Prognosis?"

"Not good."

Heather stiffened, lips forming a hard line.

"Were you close?"

"Not particularly. She was guarded... but I liked her."

Grissom's lips curled in a lopsided smile.

"Don't tell me there's someone you can't figure out?" he teased.

She returned the smile.

"I only said we weren't close."

"True."

Their gazes locked and silence fell between them for several long moments.

"Heather... forgive me." His hands came back to her face. "I've spent the majority of my adult life alone, but I've never really been lonely... until I thought I'd lost you."

Her features softened.

"It seems you found the right words."

She moved forward, bringing herself impossibly close without actually touching him. Her lips brushed over his in a delicate kiss.

"Gil."

It was Brass.

"Yes?" He answered without taking his eyes from Heather's.

"Do you think you might like to come back to work now?"

Grissom's head snapped around to shoot Brass an annoyed yet sheepish look, while Lady Heather tried with only moderate success to suppress a smile.

"Captain Brass," she purred. "It's always a pleasure."

"Lady Heather. Having trouble with your staff again?"       

"I see nothing escapes your notice." She turned her attention back to Grissom. "What can I do for you?"

They both ignored the detective's snort.

"Ideally," Grissom began, "I'd like prints and swabs from everyone here tonight. We can't rule anyone out at this point."

"That could pose an interesting challenge." A pause. "Let me see what I can do."

She moved past him toward the house, allowing her body to brush against him as she went.

Brass raised an eyebrow at the sharp intake of breath, but refrained from further comment, as both men watched Lady Heather enter her dominion.        



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