Grissom called a realtor about a rental he saw listed in the paper and the man agreed to meet him to show him some properties. As they visited several places, the realtor, John Wier, convinced him that it was time to buy rather than rent. So the search changed from a rental to a house to buy. After finishing with Wier, he drove back to his apartment stopping at the liquor store to buy vodka. Next time anyone wanted a screwdriver, he would be prepared. Once he had taken care of a few housekeeping details, he headed for bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Catherine slipped into her apartment quietly, hoping again this morning that Eddie would be asleep. She knew it had been dangerous to go to Grissom's after work, but she treasured time spent with him. He made her feel good about herself. He saw beyond her outward beauty and was interested in what was inside. No one, except maybe for Jimmy, had bothered to look beyond the obvious.

As she moved into the living room, she realized that she was safe. Either Eddie was asleep or he wasn't home. Easing into the bedroom, she realized that the latter was the case. Their bed was empty. She stripped to her underwear and slipped into some pjs. After brushing her teeth, she crawled into bed, closed her eyes, and drifted to sleep. Her mind was still active however, and images from her conversations with Grissom played through her mind.

Eddie arrived home later in the morning and found her asleep. Quietly, he undressed and slipped into the bed beside her where he also slipped into a deep slumber. His sleep was a result of too much to drink instead of Catherine's reason, being tired from work.

She woke late in the afternoon, gently pushing Eddie's hand off her hip and slowly easing out of bed. After a trip to the bathroom, she went into the kitchen in search of food. A few minutes later, Eddie found her at the kitchen table eating leftover spaghetti. "Hey babe, how was your night?"

"Okay, still working on that double homicide. Grissom let me follow a lead on my own but it turned into a dead end."

"He let you go out on your own?"

"Well, kind of…Detective Ley was asking all the questions."

"Detective Ley?"

"Yeah…homicide. Has thirty years in. Said he was just waiting to be old enough to collect Social Security before retiring." Eddie seemed to like her description of the detective…better than he liked her description of Grissom the night before.

"Old buzzard, huh?"

"Getting there, for sure. But he's a good detective to know. Has lots of experience."

"Yeah babe, that's good." She could tell he was losing interest.

Grissom woke up sometime later. He fixed a box meal, one that his mother would never approve of, but it seemed easy. There was a message on his answering machine from the realtor. He had a property to show him. Gil called him back and arranged to see it in the morning.

He spotted the bottle of vodka sitting on the counter and smiled. Screwdrivers were not his drink of choice but he had a suspicion that it might become one of his favorites. His mind kept warning him that she was unavailable but he couldn't get past how she made him feel. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. He wanted…needed to spend time with her, she her smile, hear her laugh; but he didn't want to get in the middle of her marriage, even if the guy was a jerk. He wanted her to have whatever she wanted, to be happy. He just wanted to be around to see her happy.

After a quick shower, he headed out the door to the lab. As he drove into the lot, he saw Catherine getting out of her car. He pulled in next to her car and hurried to catch up to her.

Catherine saw his car pull in and heard his footsteps as he hustled to catch up. She smiled inwardly at his eagerness. There was a lot about the man that she didn't understand, but this she understood. And Eddie thought he was gay….. well, probably should let Eddie keep thinking that.

Little was said as they walked together into the building. Catherine was enjoying the feel of him next to her, somehow he felt safe and secure to her. He was simply tongue tied and didn't know what to say. Once they were inside and had a new case to investigate, he felt more assured and was able to find plenty to say. Unfortunately, it was all about a dead body.

As the shift ended, Catherine decided she'd better not push her luck with Eddie and headed straight home. Gil looked for her in the locker room, but when he couldn't find her, he realized that the bottle of vodka would go unopened that day.

Later that morning, he met with the realtor and looked at the property. John Wier babbled on and on about how perfect it would be for him. It was a converted loft, near the strip but away from the high crime areas; perfect for a bachelor, he said. Gil reserved judgment until he saw it. They arrived a few minutes later and Gil had to admit that it looked promising. There was plenty of parking and as they walked in, he was struck by the simplicity of it. Most of the space was open, the kitchen, dining area and living room essentially one. There was a nice sized bedroom and a second room that could be another bedroom or a study. He was impressed with the amount of natural light in each room. There would be too much in the bedroom and he would have to find a remedy, but he liked the idea of so much light in the rest of the place.

The kitchen wasn't large but it would be adequate for his needs. We could hang out and talk while I fix breakfast, he thought. He looked across the room to the living area and imagined her on his couch…there, under the windows, the light playing in her red hair.

"I'll take it," he said, turning to Wier.

He spent some time working out the terms of his offer on the place and then headed home, satisfied that he was making a good move. If nothing else, he would have plenty of space for his books and collections. And with any luck he would share many screwdrivers over breakfast with a certain strawberry blonde.

They fell into a routine of working together with a little flirting from time to time; nothing too obvious or direct. For her the flirting was a game, something that came naturally. For him, it was a need. He needed her smiles, her occasional touches, and the way she looked at him when she thought he didn't see. Slowly she learned little tidbits about the man; his favorite foods, the fact that he had skipped several grades in school, that he was an only child but nothing that gave any clues to who he really was. He learned little things about her too; she was a dancer before becoming a CSI, she met Eddie through a friend at a club, no one ever gave her credit for being smart…little things like those.

Days evolved into weeks and finally Gil closed on his townhouse. He moved in over the weekend and spent his entire time off arranging his butterfly collections on the walls, building his library in the study, and buying a few pieces of new furniture for the place. One of the last boxes he unpacked contained the still unopened bottle of vodka. He carefully placed it in the cabinet, next to the glasses. He hoped that soon he would have a reason to open the bottle.

After he was satisfied that everything was in its place, he headed for bed. Anxious for the next morning, he planned on asking her over for breakfast. He wanted to show her his new house. He really, really hoped that she would like it. Sleep came slowly with him dozing off and waking several times before settling into a deep sleep. In one of his waking moments, he was reminded of a quote from Arthur Miller, "I cannot sleep for dreaming; I cannot dream but I wake and walk about the house as though I'd find you coming through some door." When sleep fianlly came, his dreams were filled with her. While his conscious mind was unaware of it, somewhere deep in his sub-conscious there was awareness that he had fallen in love and that for now at least, the only avenue for his emotions was through his dreams. And so he dreamed.

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