Well howdy there! Not much to say here except that my thoughts and prayers are with the Kennedy family with the passing of Senator Ted Kennedy. Whether you like the Kennedy's or not, they are a political dynasty in the United States. As a future special education teacher, I am forever grateful for his work to get the Americans With Disabilities Act, No Child Left Behind, and other educational/disability acts passed in order to allow all people in the United States to have an opportunity to thrive.
Thanks to Chris (who enjoys my random late night texts ordering him to review my story), YoblingDramoineLover, Wileret, MrsWillows, lil Kass, aty, Double I 4 My Guys, connieLover, name-me, and AutumnDoe for their nice reviews the last also to the folks who are adding me to their alerts/favorites. Thanks also to Taylor for betaing and making sure that I don't overuse the ellipse! ;-)
Please take a second to let me know what you think of the chapter! I'm probably going to post my one-shot soon, and I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I absolutely love how this turned out. I'll hit you up with a link in the next chapter, or I suppose those of you darlings who have me under your author alert will get it that way.
Enjoy!
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When Warrick awoke a few hours later, it was to persistent knocking at Catherine's door. He glanced down at Catherine, not surprised to see that she was fast asleep. The exhaustion of the last few weeks really seemed to have finally taken a toll on her and even with the combination of knocking and the doorbell ringing, she hadn't stirred. He took a moment to look over her. Even in her sleep, the worry lines and sheer tiredness were evident among her thin, frail features. When she woke up, he was going to cook her a nice big dinner. She deserved – no, she needed – that.
"All right, all right," Warrick muttered to himself, carefully extracting himself from Catherine's arms when the doorbell rang once again. "Hold your damn horses."
He took a brief moment to smile down at Catherine one more time, covering her body carefully with the blankets on the bed. He pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead before lumbering down the stairs to open the door.
Warrick glanced through the peephole, sucking in a breath when he saw Grissom standing there impatiently, tapping a manila folder against his palm. Quickly, Warrick ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes, trying his hardest to offset the fact that he had been sleeping. He smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt as best as he could, and then opened the door.
"First of all, I don't even want to know where you were sleeping, and second of all, I'm glad that there wasn't an emergency at the lab where we needed you," Grissom snapped, making his way into Catherine's house. "Why is your phone off?"
"I-" Warrick began, only to be cut off by Grissom.
"You know what, I don't care. Where is Catherine?" he asked.
"She's sleeping," Warrick answered. "It seems that the last few weeks have been rough on her."
"Can you wake her up?"
"Wha…no, Grissom. Do you know how worn she is? The fact that she actually fell asleep and stayed sleeping through your pounding on the door says a lot, man," Warrick told Grissom. "So whatever you have can either wait until she wakes up on her own, or you can leave a message with me seeing that Catherine no longer works at the lab."
His tone was accusing, and Grissom couldn't help but flinch a little at Warrick's words. Grissom knew that Warrick and Catherine were close – if not closer than he knew – and he had a feeling that Warrick knew of all the recent arguments Catherine and Grissom had had. Still, Grissom squared his shoulders, staring back at the taller man.
"Catherine's not fired," Grissom spoke evenly. "In fact, she's expected to be at work tonight."
"What, was Ecklie suddenly scared that she was going to sue?" Warrick scoffed.
"Probably," Grissom lied, not feeling the need to go into the details of his argument with Ecklie about Catherine. "But I also found out some important information that may help Catherine with her…battle with Kay Peterson."
"What about Peterson?" Warrick asked, glancing at the file in Grissom's hand. He reached down to take it from Grissom, who pulled it back from his grasp. "What the hell, Grissom?" Warrick asked angrily. After all, it was his name that was being drug through the mad as well, and he felt that he had a right to see what was in that file.
"This is for Catherine-"
"In case you didn't notice, I've been a target of that bitch as well. I deserve to know what's going on!" Warrick exclaimed.
Grissom hesitated, taking a deep breath. He handed the file over to Warrick, who accepted it gratefully. "I've been doing some research about Kay Peterson," Grissom began. "I didn't believe a word of what she said about you two." He looked over Warrick, crossing his arms. "Are her claims true?"
Warrick glanced up from the file, meeting Gil's intense gaze. "There wasn't anything other than friendly bantering or playful flirting between the two of us until about three hours ago," he admitted.
Grissom blinked, realizing the implications of what Warrick had said. "Are you two – ?"
"I don't even know, Grissom. We shared some words, and admitted some feelings, but…I honestly don't know where we stand," Warrick said.
Grissom nodded, sitting carefully on Catherine's couch. "You do realize that if – when – Catherine comes back, you two can't be on the same team if you are in a relationship, right?" he asked gently.
Warrick sighed heavily, knowing that Grissom was right. However, it all depended on Catherine and whether she would even be back to work at the lab. Ecklie had infuriated her off beyond belief this time, and she was just burnt out from having to deal with Sam's death, Lindsey, Lillian, Peterson.
He glanced down at the file in his hand, choosing to ignore Grissom's question for the moment. "What is Peterson's deal? What kind of information do you have about her?" Warrick questioned.
Grissom, however, noticed that Warrick blatantly ignored his question; nevertheless, he simply ran a hand through his silver curls and stated, "It's a long story, but she's stirring up a lot of trouble."
"Like what?"
"There are approximately two dozen women who have been demoted, fired, or forced to relocate their services after Kay Peterson posted articles on them," Grissom began.
"So her lying…?"
Warrick let the question hang in the air, and Grissom nodded. "Yeah. Her false accusations have wreaked havoc among the powerful," he explained.
"Why didn't these women fight back?" Warrick asked, glancing over Grissom's notes.
"My guess is that they didn't have the support from their higher ups, or they didn't have the resources to do so," Grissom reasoned.
"Is there anything else?" Warrick asked.
"Yeah – plagiarism," Grissom said grimly. "It seems that Kay Peterson stole a disk that came from my friend's desk a few years ago. I just need to find a way to prove it."
"So not only is she a lying, conniving bitch, but she's a stealing bitch as well," Warrick shrugged. He whistled lightly as he looked over the papers. "I can't believe all this stuff. How did no one pick up on this?"
"My guess is that either the editors at the Times missed it, or they turned their heads because Peterson is such a 'good' journalist who brings in revenue," Grissom answered. He glanced up the stairs, wishing that Catherine would come down. He owed her an apology, and he wanted to explain the Kay Peterson situation to her.
Warrick followed his glance, settling down in her armchair. "I want her to see this, but I feel so bad waking her," he said softly. "She needs the rest."
"I know," Grissom agreed, settling his head against the soft backing. "Is she okay?"
"Physically or mentally?"
"Both."
Warrick closed the file, setting it down on the coffee table before leaning back. He pressed his fingertips together, trying to figure out the right words to describe Catherine's body and state of mind to their supervisor without giving too much away.
"She's…uh, her back and head seem to be okay," Warrick began. "There's extensive bruising and swelling on her back and face, but everything looks to be healing well. She's going to have a pretty bad scar on her back though." He paused, then added, "I don't really want to get into her frame of mind. Only Catherine can be the one to tell you about that."
Grissom nodded in response. "Fair enough. Is…is she okay, though?" he asked. "I mean…I haven't been a good friend. I should know this, and you have no clue how much it hurts that I have to ask you these questions."
"Man, Gris, you know Cath. She never admits how she is," Warrick said truthfully. "I don't want to try to say how she's feeling 'cause I honestly don't know."
"Fair enough," Grissom said again with a shrug, his eyes drifting toward the stairs. He wished that Catherine would come down already so they could talk.
Warrick saw Grissom glancing toward the steps, then said, "Grissom, I promise that you'll be the first person I tell her to call when she wakes up. Go home and get some sleep; you look almost as tired as Catherine did."
It was with some reluctance that Grissom finally wordlessly agreed. "Tell her…" he hesitated, looking at the man still sitting in front of her. "Tell her that I'm sorry, and I can't wait to talk to her," Grissom finally said.
"I will," Warrick promised, standing up to let Grissom out. "Thanks, Grissom, for the information."
"No problem, Warrick," Gil answered absently. He gave Warrick a long glance, then finally added, "Take care of her, would you?"
"Of course," Warrick replied. He shut the door gently behind Grissom, leaning his forehead against the wood.
"Is he gone?" Warrick about leapt out of his skin at Catherine's voice, and he whirled around, shocked to see her standing at the top of the steps.
"Jesus, Cath, you scared me!" She looked somewhat apologetic, though she simply stood there quietly in anticipation of his answer. "And yes, he's gone." Catherine nodded, running a hand though her tangled locks. "He's sorry."
"I know," she said simply. "I'm just not ready to talk to him at the moment." She descended down the steps carefully, not wanting to jar her sore back. Then, Catherine sat on the couch, drawing her legs underneath her. "What did he want?"
"He uh…" Warrick cleared his throat, taking the folder in his hands. "He's been doing some research."
"Research about what?" Catherine asked suspiciously.
"Kay Peterson."
At the reporter's name, Catherine scowled, yet she still reached out to take the folder from Warrick when he offered it to her. "What's that bitch up to now?" she asked, flipping the cover open.
"She's caused a lot of people to get fired, and she's apparently plagiarized at least one article, if not more," Warrick informed Catherine. Her eyes shot up, a disbelieving look on her features. "Peterson's apparently more trouble then she's worth."
Catherine's face still held the scowl, yet a frown now marred her features. She looked down at the papers. She read the first page quickly, speaking aloud every once and awhile. "Gina Helgen," she murmured, "Professor at LVU when Peterson wrote an article accusing her of having a sexual relationship with a student. Helgen repeatedly denied the allegations and left LVU when she was fired." She glanced up at Warrick. "How could they do that with no basis or evidence?"
"They can do whatever they want, I suppose," Warrick answered, suddenly regretting giving her the file. She was supposed to be resting and not straining herself, and he just knew that Catherine was going to throw herself into the research.
"Hey, Cath, why don't you put that down and we can look at it later?" Warrick asked. "Let me make you dinner."
"Mm, you go ahead," Catherine answered absently. "I'm not hungry."
He watched her intently, seeing that Catherine was engrossed in the file. He had seen that look before and knew that Catherine was long gone into what she was reading. With a sigh, he picked up her reading glasses from the end table and handed them to Catherine. "You may need these," Warrick told her softly.
"Thanks," Catherine said gratefully, accepting the glasses and smiling up at Warrick after he kissed the top of her head. She turned her attention immediately back to the file. He watched her carefully for a minute, and then went into the kitchen.
Half an hour later, Catherine had read each profile that Grissom had created twice, if not three times. Peterson's victims were spread out from California to Delaware, and even from Mexico to Canada. There were two that were deceased; one from heart failure and the other from an apparent suicide.
She took a deep breath, rolling her stiff neck and pulling off her glasses simultaneously. Kay Peterson was a nut, that was for sure, but Catherine had no idea what to do with the information that she now had. She could go to the Vegas Times office and confront Peterson, but she had a feeling she would never get close to Peterson, let alone in the building.
The smell of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread finally permeated her nostrils, and Catherine stood up slowly. "What the heck?" she uttered, momentarily forgetting the file and walking into the kitchen. "Warrick, you didn't have to do that!" Catherine was shocked to see Warrick standing over her oven, adding oregano to the sauce that was simmering on her stove.
"I know," Warrick said with a shrug. "I figured I'd make you dinner while you looked over the file. I'm sure you're hungry, and you need something in your stomach anyways. I know you haven't eaten in awhile."
Catherine's stomach rumbled on cue, and she smiled sheepishly when Warrick grinned. "I guess I'm a little hungry," she admitted.
"Why don't you set the table and I'll strain the spaghetti?" Warrick suggested, finding bowls for Catherine to put on the table. They were high up, and Warrick hadn't missed the cringe of pain that crossed Catherine's face whenever she attempted to lift her arms, no doubt a side effect of the wound on her back.
"Sounds good," Catherine agreed. Pretty soon, Warrick had dinner ready and they were eating the pasta.
"Warrick, this is amazing," Catherine finally spoke up some time later. "What did you put in the sauce?"
"It's a secret combination of spices that my grandmom used to put in sauce," Warrick replied with a sad smile. "I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you."
Catherine smiled back across the table at Warrick, noticing that her stomach filled with butterflies at the mere thought of sharing such a domestic moment with Warrick. "Thank you," she finally said softly. "I needed this."
Warrick smiled back at Catherine. "What do you say we get this cleaned up and then we can take a nap for a few hours before I have to go to work?" he asked hopefully.
Catherine's thoughts drifted back to the file folder, and for a moment, she as tempted to tell him that she would join him later. However, his eyes were pleading and Catherine knew that she would get so engrossed that she would wind up staying for hours and not bother laying down with him.
Besides, he looked so darn cute that she wasn't about to make him beg for her.
"Sure, Rick," Catherine finally answered, feeling her heart leap with joy at the happiness that crossed Warrick's face. "I'd like that."
~/~
When Catherine forced her eyes open hours later, she saw that it was nearly four-thirty in the morning. Warrick had at least three and a half hours left on his shift before he came back.
And Catherine Willows was lonely. And bored. And pensive.
That wasn't a good combination.
She sighed, looking at the area across from her. It was so lonely without him. Pulling the pillow to her chest, she inhaled deeply. Catherine could already smell him on her pillows. She missed him so much that her heart ached. Catherine almost wished that she would have gone to work with him, but her back was hurting and she wasn't even sure yet if she would be going back to work.
At least, she hadn't been sure. However, when Catherine didn't show up for shift, the sheriff called her, asking her to come in for a meeting tomorrow at five in the evening to discuss her future with the crime lab.
If she hadn't been mistaken, there was a tone of urgency and desperation in his voice as he told Catherine in the voicemail that she was a great CSI and that he wanted her back.
Whatever, Catherine thought, He probably just doesn't want me to sue the damn department.
She rolled to her back carefully, wincing a little as her back protested. Warrick had redressed it before he left, but it still hurt to move somewhat. Catherine stared at the ceiling, boredom overtaking her mind. She wasn't used to sleeping at this hour, so no wonder she was wide awake despite the fact she was still exhausted.
Her thoughts drifted to the file folder that Grissom had dropped off yesterday, and to the women profiled in the file. Catherine couldn't believe what she had read. There were so many women that had been targeted by Kay Peterson in one way or another. She wondered why, but the only reasoning she could come up with was that Peterson was in a position of control, and she didn't like women who fought back. She briefly wondered if the twenty-three women that she had written articles on had defied Peterson like Catherine had that night in the diner.
Either that, or Kay Peterson was just crazy.
Catherine sighed, kicking off the covers. Attempting to sleep was futile. Her mind was racing with thoughts, and her body refused to sleep. She placed her feet on the floor, stretching as far as her back allowed her to. She wiped sleep from her eyes, making her way to her office. She rarely worked at home, but there were times when the amount of paperwork she pulled in dictated it. Besides, her office made a nice little spot to do bills instead of the kitchen table.
She booted up her computer, opening the file folder that she had tossed on her desk a few hours before. Catherine rubbed her face as her background picture appeared and the computer slowly warmed up. Briefly, she wondered if she should make some coffee, but decided against it. Warrick would be home in just a few hours, and she knew that his arms around her would be enough to lull her back to sleep.
Stretching, Catherine opened her web browser and went to Google. She typed in Kay Peterson's name, frowning when the search results emitted tons of random web pages and articles. Apparently Kay Peterson was quite the popular name.
"I hope they aren't all bitches," Catherine muttered to herself, going back to the search bar and adding Vegas Times after Peterson's name.
There were far less results, but unfortunately for Catherine, all the links were for articles that Peterson had written, or for contact information. I'd like to contact my fist right into her face, Catherine groused.
She glanced at the open file folder, looking at the top page. Gil had taken the time to write down information on each woman, including where they had worked, the nature of the article slandering them, and where they were employed at the moment. Some of the pages were even accompanied with a photograph, addresses, and phone numbers.
Gina Helgen's name and picture stared up at Catherine, and for a brief second, she couldn't help but think that the woman kind of looked like the CSI. She had wavy red hair and pale blue eyes. While there was a smile on Helgen's face, it didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked as if she held the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Catherine guessed that the picture was from the school's website where she now worked. The background had that 'school-picture' look. She breathed heavily through her nose, exhaling through her lips.
For some reason, she felt attached to this woman. While she felt for all of the women that Peterson had written articles on, she felt this connection to Gina Helgen. She glanced at the address for the school Helgen now worked at, seeing that it was in California. Absently, she went to MapQuest and quickly typed in the information to find directions to the school. She ignored the directions, however, and focused on the time between Vegas and the school.
Four hours and fifty-nine minutes.
"Can't they just round it up to five hours?" Catherine asked out loud, drumming her nails against the desk. On auto-pilot, she reached for the phone on the desk, dialing the number for the school that was beneath the address.
She was surprised when a sleepy sounding voice answered the phone, but she masked her shock quickly. Realizing that there was probably a twenty-four hour phone system at the school, Catherine instinctively said, "Uh, yes, hello, my child is extremely ill, but he wants me to drop his term paper off to Gina Helgen. It's due today."
"You can leave it in her mailbox," the guy on the other line said, sounding bored.
"No, he wants me to hand it to her," Catherine quickly said. "Don't want it to get lost in transit, you know?" She forced a laugh, cringing when she heard a huff of air on the other line accompanied by keys tapping on a computer.
"Whatever, lady. She's in Room 234 of the Garcia Building. She has a class from eight AM until eleven AM today if you want to drop it off then."
"Thank you, sir," Catherine said gratefully. She heard the phone click in her ear, and for a brief moment, she wondered if she should call the young man back and give him a discussion about proper phone etiquette.
Deciding she didn't have time to do so, Catherine shut down her computer and went back to her room. Her mind was screaming that this was stupid, that she shouldn't be planning this. Still, as she tugged on jeans and a loose t-shirt, then slipped her feet into sandals she knew that she needed to make the trek to California in order to talk to Gina Helgen.
She grabbed a lightweight sweater, draping it over her arm as she made her way out of her room. This time of the year could be tricky in California, she knew, and Catherine didn't want to be freezing should it be chilly when she arrived.
Catherine felt a stab of pain in her chest as she passed Lindsey's room, knowing that the judge was going to make a decision based on his findings very soon in regards to sending Lindsey to the boot camp. Catherine knew it was for the best, but still, she missed Lindsey and wanted her home.
She hesitated, pushing the door to Lindsey's room open. She wasn't snooping; rather, she was looking for something. Seeing her daughter's cell phone on her dresser, still plugged in to charge from the other night, she grabbed it. The display lit up at the action, and Catherine raised her eyebrow when she saw that there were 132 new text messages awaiting reading.
Good grief, Catherine thought. She pressed the button to ignore them all and pocketed the phone. She had left hers at the lab the other morning, thinking that she wouldn't be needing it anymore. She now regretted that, as she wanted some sort of line should she run into trouble while driving out to California.
Making her way down the steps, Catherine went into the kitchen, finding a notepad. Thinking, she decided it was best to tell Warrick where she was so he didn't panic when he came back to her house. She scribbled a note as fast as she could, then held it out in front of her to read it.
Warrick-
I know that I have to get in touch with the sheriff soon, but I just can't lay here and not do anything about the information I've learned about Kay Peterson. I called the number for the university that Gina Helgen works at in California, and she has a class there until eleven AM. I know that this is a stupid move, but I need to talk to her in order to get some sense of what is making Kay Peterson tick. It's a little after five AM, and if I leave now I should be able to make it there before the class ends.
I hope that you had a good night at work, and I look forward to crawling into bed with you whenever I get back. If you need me, call Lindsey's cell phone. I'm taking that with me since I left mine at the lab yesterday. The number is 555-1013.
Take care, and I'll call you when I'm on my way home.
-Catherine
Deciding that was good enough, she placed the notepad on her counter and filled a water bottle up with cold water. She would stop for coffee at some point down the road, but for now, water would do. Grabbing her keys, Catherine carefully made her way to the door, pulling it behind her. She hopped into the rental car and punched in the address for Helgen's school into her GPS, waiting for the GPS to calculate a route. It beeped, signifying that the fastest route had been calculated. Without a second thought, Catherine put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway, her destination: California.
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End 12/15
