Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Rating: T or PG-13 for drug-mentioning and swearing. Let me know if you think it should be higher.

Summary: 'Zwischenzug' – a chess move made to play for time. GCR

I guess it must be moving a little slow right now, but trust me – it picks up. Anyway, thank you for the reviews, Teliko. x3, gabiroba, DrusillaBraun, MiniTeija and ibreak4csi! I find something tragic about me asking y'all for reviews, so I seem to stubbornly refuse to do it. Suffice it to say that I love receiving feedback and that it's always good to know that there are people out there who are reading. Another short present-day chapter. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

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Zwischenzug. Chapter Four. A Truth, A Lie

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(Now)

"Catherine...?" Gil spoke quietly, after the silence became too difficult to sit in. He leant forwards on the sofa and tried to read her stony expression. It was impossible. "Cath?"

She turned to him. "What?" – short, and icy.

He thought he'd try a different tactic.

"Listen, we both know you're angry…" he told her gently. "I just want to know why so I can try and explain."

Catherine looked at him, dubious. "I'm not a child, Grissom," she said. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child, okay?"

"Okay, okay," he nodded. "But can we talk about this? Please?"

She studied his pleading expression and decided that they weren't going to get anywhere in her silence – he clearly wasn't going to give up too easily. Catherine sat back in her chair and sighed, relenting.

"Fine, Gil," she began. "How would you feel if you came into work one day and found out – from Jacqui, no less – that I was sleeping with Warrick or Nick?"

A small smile crossed his lips. "I think I'd feel sorry for Greg for getting left out."

Catherine's unimpressed look told him, too late, that this was no time for jokes.

"Do you think this is funny?" she demanded. She stared at him in disbelief as the smile fell from his face. "It's not funny, Gil."

And she stood up, furious, and walked out of the living room into the kitchen.

"Cath –" Grissom called out to her as she stormed away. "Cath, I'm sorry – wait."

He jumped up and went after her. She had her back to him in the kitchen, and poured a glass of water with forced nonchalance. The kitchen was different, too, Gil realised when he stepped inside. Painted a pale yellow rather than the light blue that he remembered. He didn't know she'd changed it.

"Catherine –"

She spun around and fixed him with that fierce glare that he'd seen so many times before – at least that was still the same.

"What, Gil? You wanted to know why, so I'm telling you why," she bit angrily. "And if all you can do is to sit there and make stupid jokes, then there's no point in you being here at all. I have better things to do with my time."

"No, I know – that was stupid of me," he said. "I'm sorry. But, in answer to your question – I'd be okay with it – if you were sleeping with Warrick or Nick or anyone. That'd be fine. It's not my business what you do."

Catherine looked him straight in the eye. She was gripping her glass so tightly, Grissom noticed, that her fingertips were white.

"Fine," she repeated to herself. "That'd be fine."

Pushing past him, she walked back out of the kitchen again without saying anything else. Gil raised his eyes to the ceiling – that had been a lie. Would he have been okay with it? Really? When he thought about it – he didn't think so. What would've been so wrong with telling her that? He didn't know. But something made him lie to her just then and now they were back where they had started – emotionally guarded.

She was back in the living room, sat staring at the wall again – not drinking the water she'd poured. Gil rubbed his hand over his face and leant against the kitchen doorframe, looking at her.

"What did you want me to say, Catherine?" he challenged, fed up. He waited for her to respond and she didn't. "Okay – so maybe I wouldn't be okay with it. Not entirely. But it would have nothing to do with me anyway, so why would it matter what I thought?"

At that point, Catherine looked at him. She folded her arms again.

"Why wouldn't you be okay with it?" she asked him coolly.

Gil turned his head into the wooden doorframe, frustrated. Looking back at her, she raised an eyebrow expectantly and he couldn't suppress a groan.

"You're making this difficult on purpose," he told her.

Catherine shrugged her shoulders. "Probably."

He sighed and wondered where he could even begin answering that question.

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