This Is Your Song
Chapter Eight
Completion
Author's Notes: Well, here it is, the end of my story. My third CSI fan fiction, finished. As I sit here in my leather rolley office chair, I breathe a sigh of relief. No more cramming writing into my 'busy' schedule, no more racking my brain for ideas, no more trying, but not succeeding, in writing song lyrics. Well... at least until my next fan fiction.. Thanks: I'd like to take this opportunity to thank A LOT of people. I've got a list. Tash - Through all the time I've known you, which hasn't been very long, you've always read my fics with the most open of minds, and let me write what I wanted to without freaking out at me. You're an awesome beta, and I honestly don't know what I would have done without you these past couple of months. You make this writing thing seem easier. Allison -- For all the inside jokes that came along with this story, thank you. Thank you to the reverend, wherever you are. You're awesome, Allison. You make writing more fun and my days easier. And remember, "MICROSCOPE!" *punches the air* Amber -- You agreed to read my stuff quite readily, which I found odd before, because you're such an awesome writer, and so far above me, I couldn't quite understand why you'd want to bother with suffering through my stories. But I'm glad you did, because you've helped me with this a lot, and I thank you again and again! Where would I be without you? Mooni -- To whom this was dedicated to. God bless you. Meg -- You make everyday funnier. Make sure you always stay nutty. And I will always have a ready supply of Kleneex for you, because you're the best. Thanks for all your help. The GrissomSara mailing list - For putting up with my daily blabber, you deserve the largest of thanks. Telly - for creating the character Chantelle. You're a nut, babe. The sweetest one. Pat - Wherever you are, buddy, I love you. I wait patiently for the day when I will see you again. Keep flashing that party smile, my man. This one's for you.
The next week was unbearable. At work Warrick and I became very good at avoiding one another, even at my going-away party, the one the lab threw for me. He didn't even show up. I was devastated, but tried not to show it as I poured myself drink after drink... It was my way of escaping it all. But as soon as I got home and saw the phone sitting in the corner, the window flashing the words "0 Messages", I was reminded again of the state I was in.
I missed him. A lot. I missed how his hand always found the perfect place on my back while we were walking together; how he smiled instantly when I said his name; how, when we made love, his eyes never left mine. I missed it all, and more. I didn't think I could go one more day without him.
And then there was this other part of me that snuck up and slapped me in the face every now and then. This part of me told me that I was doing the right thing, that all this running was for a reason: to save myself from getting hurt again, like I had with Eddie, and with so many others. I spent my last few nights in Vegas tossing and turning in my bed, throwing myself against walls, buying bottle after bottle of vodka.
Hoping he would call. Or come over.
But he never did.
Not that I could blame him. His pride had been hurt. I had rejected him, and guys like Warrick didn't take that too easily. I could still see his eyes staring back at me, so full of pain and hurt that I could barely stand to look at them. Nothing could erase the memory.
The night came sooner than expected. I shut the door behind me and stared down at my feet as I walked to my car. My bare legs revealed the fact that I had forgotten to shave for a while. I bent down to run my fingers across the stubble that sat there, wanting to know if it was as bad as it looked. I cursed myself for wearing shorts.
Suddenly, a sweet serenity flooded over me, washed over my face and arms, moving down toward my toes. I looked up and saw him coming down the road towards me, his steps long and quick. He was running. His feet hitting the ground, my own breath coming in heavy gasps, my heart beating. Sounds surrounded me.
"Catherine, wait!" He shouted, running faster. He was out of breath, I could tell. I wondered how far he had come. "Please, just-" he stopped about three feet ahead of me, looking terrified. I didn't know what had given him the notion that I was in any hurry.
"Yes?" I asked. I was dying to know what he would say.
"Don't go." He said, stuffing a hand in his pants pocket. I cocked my head a little and raised an eyebrow.
"Why not?" I was teasing him. I wanted him to convince me to stay.
He shrugged. "I can't think of a good reason." He looked defeated. My heart broke instantly when I saw his eyes. I knew what he really wanted to say. "I just know I don't want you to go. I want you to stay."
"And you think that's a convincing reason?" I asked him, almost surprised at his lack of romantic drive.
He shook his head. "No, I know it's not. But I was hoping..." He gulped. "I was hoping it would be enough."
"Give me something else. Why don't you want me to go? What's waiting for me here?" I felt stupid for having to punch it out of him, like I should just leave to see if that would make him say something romantic.
He stared at me, transfixed. "Me?" He sounded hesitant, like he wasn't even sure about that. "Me." Smiling a little, he took one step closer to me, which still placed him little less than three feet away. "Please, Catherine..." His pleading sounded almost pathetic. "Please don't go."
I stared at him, unmoving. Waiting.
Sighing, he lowered his head to look at his shoes. "I'd miss you, and Lindsey. I'd miss the way every room you're in always ends up smelling like you, even if you're only in there for three seconds. I'd miss the way your hair looks in the morning. I'd miss that cute thing you do when you say big words."
I had no idea what he was talking about. "What cute thing?" I asked, curious. He just shook his head.
"I'd miss you beating me in Tetris, and the victory dance you do when the team you bet on wins in hockey."
I smiled at the memory of our break room escapades. The dozens of times we had been stuck in that room together, how we had always made it fun. "I'd miss beating you in Tetris, too."
He chuckled. "Come on, Cath. I know you don't think it would work out, but-" He held out a hand to me. "Give me one more chance, please?"
I smiled a little. "You honestly think that your little speech was going to make me turn down a better-paying job and a better climate?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're wrong." He suddenly looked defeated. "I was just on my way to pick up Lindsey from Eddie's, Warrick. If you had called Grissom before you ran all the way over here, you would have known I changed my mind. I'm not moving to Miami. I turned down the supervisor's job last night." His features changed from sadness to shock. "My home is here."
He smiled then, so wide I thought his cheeks would burst. "I'm so glad." I shivered involuntarily. He moved closer to me, putting his arms around me. I felt safe there. I wasn't sure what this meant, but I knew what I wanted it to.
"I was an idiot, Warrick. I want a relationship. I want this. I want to be with you." I shivered involuntarily. "The past six days have been the worst of my life."
"You're sure this is what you want?" Warrick asked me softly, smoothing down a part of my hair that was sticking up a little. I nodded slowly, wiping a raindrop from the bridge of his nose. It had begun to rain. I hadn't noticed.
"I'm positive."
"And you're going to let him go?" His question confused me, and I looked up at him, my nose crinkled from a lack of understanding.
"Let who go?" I pulled a little away from him to get a better look at his face. His eyes were more green than I had ever seen them, moist and frosty from the temperature.
"Gil." He whispered in my ear. I wondered fleetingly how he knew, but didn't stop to think too long. I was afraid he'd get upset if I took too long to answer so I quickly blurted out,
"Yeah, yeah. I'll let him go." I shivered from the cold, zipping his jacket open and burrowing myself inside of it, resting my cheek against his chest. "How did you know?"
He didn't answer, just wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "Tell me what happened."
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut when I felt his finger on my cheekbone, wiping away the tear I hadn't known was there. "It was at a party. Everyone had left, and he looked so different standing in my living room than he did when he was at the lab. There had always been something unspoken between us, something we both knew we'd have to get out of the way. It was stupid, we were drunk, we both went too far..." I sighed, snuggling closer to Warrick. "When I woke up in the morning he was gone. We never spoke of it again. I should have let it go a long time ago, but for some reason I just couldn't..."
"You never got closure." Warrick told me. "He never told you how he felt about any of it." I was surprised at his understanding, and nodded, nestled inside his jacket. He exhaled a deep breath and held me tighter. "Do you still love him?"
I shook my head quickly, shook it over and over again. "No, no. I never did. I never did love him, not in that way, anyhow. I love him so much in other ways, but not that way." I wondered why it had taken me so long to admit that to myself. "It's just hard to let go of something that you were never really sure you had."
He pulled me away from him and pressed his lips against my forehead. They felt cool and moist, yet warmed my whole body somehow. "I know." He mumbled, moving his arms from my back to my shoulders. "You should talk to him."
I nodded. "I should, but he doesn't want to listen." Warrick stared at me and didn't change his expression. I knew what he wanted me to do. "OK, I'll talk to him tomorrow during break. But what will I say?"
Warrick shrugged. "Everything you feel." A sudden thought seemed to occur to him. "I'll take you out to dinner afterwards, and you can tell me all about it."
"Take me to dinner after shift? That's a little late." I said, trying to look at his face while still staying as closely pressed to him as possible.
"Yes, it is." He said simply, and I giggled. "You don't mind to eat after midnight, do you?"
I shook my head. "But hey, isn't tomorrow your day off?" He looked guilty.
"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget." I laughed. "I'd still like to take you out."
I was shocked. He was going to get out of bed after 12 just to take me out to dinner and hear me blab about my problems. I was in heaven. "How will you know when my shift is over?"
"Call me on my cell." I raised an eyebrow in question, and he answered to reassure me, "I'll be at the club, otherwise I'd say call me at home." He took my arm. "Here's the number." And with a pen that came out of his pocket quick as lightning, he was writing a long number on the inside of my arm. The blue of the ink was a dark contrast to the white of my creamy skin, and I laughed a little when the ball point tickled me.
"Warrick, you don't have to do this, really." He didn't say anything, just put one hand on either side of my face and pulled my lips to his. His sweet, slow kiss took my breath away and I sighed when he let go. "OK, I'm convinced."
Gil was sitting in his office bent over a stack of papers with a puzzled look on his face when I walked in. He looked up when he sensed my presence, smiling slightly when I waved. "Hey Cath." He said lightly, seeming happier than usual.
"Hey Gil." I used my hand to swing the extra chair around to where I was standing. "We have to talk."
I hadn't meant to sound so blunt, but he didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow and motioned for me to sit down. "About anything in particular, or just in general?" I sat down and smiled slightly, putting one of my hands on his.
"We need to talk about that night, Gil." I didn't know what I was expecting to see in his eyes, but relief hadn't been an option. Not until now.
"Yeah, I think so, too." He looked down at our hands together on his desk. "What happened?"
I laughed a little and shook my head. "I have no idea. One minute we're laughing and drinking with Jim and Warrick and everyone else, the next minute you're on me like a hawk on a titmouse."
He looked offended. "That's not true and you know it. You made the first move."
"Really?" I asked, puzzled. "I can't remember."
Our eyes locked. "Neither can I, actually. I was just making that up. Who knows which one of us made the first move?" He sighed in resignation. "We really messed up, didn't we?"
I nodded. "Yeah, we did." I didn't want to say that I regretted what we had done, but I did. Things between us would have been so much more simple if this had never happened. "I do remember a bit about the night, though." I looked at him coyly, hoping to set things back to normal by doing a little friendly flirting.
"Oh?" He asked, looking at a spot on the wall ahead of him. "What?" Finally he looked at me and saw my expression, and laughed.
"I would never have thought that all that muscle lay underneath your clothing-"
"Catherine..." His voice warned me to be quiet.
"Sara is one lucky woman, Gil." He widened his eyes and finally I shut up, giggling and smiling at him apologetically.
"Things are so different now, Cathy."
Before he could continue, I muttered, "Don't call me that." His eyes searched my face for understanding. "How have they changed?"
Before he could answer, Sara showed up in his office, leaning against the doorway and smiling at him. "Ready to go, Gil?" She held up his jacket in her left hand and looked at me fleetingly to acknowledge my presence.
"Yeah," he said to her softly, and got up from his chair, stopping on his way to the door to put a hand on my shoulder. He stared at me, asking me silently if I was OK. I nodded. I smiled to calm his worries and he grinned back, walking out the door and leaving me alone in the room.
I sighed, staring at the pictures of dead insects on his walls. "Gilly, you're a complicated man." The faded ink on the inside of my arm caught my attention, and I ran a finger along Warrick's almost-erased cell phone number that I had put on paper last night.
"But you're right. Things have changed." I picked up the phone on his desk and started to dial the number. "Hey, Warrick!"
Warrick and I walked into the club together two weeks later, holding hands. The familiar scents nearly knocked me off my feet, and my surroundings made me gasp. It was exactly as I had remembered. "It hasn't changed one bit." I said.
"It's only been a month." Warrick reminded me, guiding me to a table where he pulled out a chair for me to sit on. "But I know, it seems longer." He took a seat across from me. I smiled.
"Yeah, it does." He sighed softly, playing with the charms on my bracelet absent-mindedly like he always did. "You gonna sing tonight?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I haven't got anything prepared." The music around us swirled above my head. I heard him hum softly. "You look good tonight." I smiled again.
"Thanks." I put a finger to his lips and then leaned forward to kiss him, getting lost in his scent surrounding me. A loud 'ahem' broke our moment, and I whirled around to see Grissom, Sara, Nick and Greg standing beside our table.
"Are we interrupting something?" Greg asked, smirking. I nodded.
"Yeah!" I said, still shocked at seeing them there. They all shrugged and took seats around the table. Warrick chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow.
"What are you guys doing here?" He asked.
"Grissom pointed out that we never had a proper celebration of the fact that Catherine is staying in Vegas." Sara said, beaming at everyone present.
"Let's eat cake." Gil suggested, and looked around for a menu. I pointed to the wall, and he nodded in realization.
"Let's wait a few minutes for the cake." I said, and grabbed Warrick's hand, pulling him away from the group of friends and into the crowd of strangers that had gathered in the middle of the club. "Dance with me..." I breathed in his ear, and watched as he smiled and drew me in closer to him.
"I love you..." He whispered, swaying with me as the notes caressed the air. His hand smoothed down my hair.
"I love you too." I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
"And you can tell everybody This is your song." - Moulin Rouge
Author's Notes: Well, here it is, the end of my story. My third CSI fan fiction, finished. As I sit here in my leather rolley office chair, I breathe a sigh of relief. No more cramming writing into my 'busy' schedule, no more racking my brain for ideas, no more trying, but not succeeding, in writing song lyrics. Well... at least until my next fan fiction.. Thanks: I'd like to take this opportunity to thank A LOT of people. I've got a list. Tash - Through all the time I've known you, which hasn't been very long, you've always read my fics with the most open of minds, and let me write what I wanted to without freaking out at me. You're an awesome beta, and I honestly don't know what I would have done without you these past couple of months. You make this writing thing seem easier. Allison -- For all the inside jokes that came along with this story, thank you. Thank you to the reverend, wherever you are. You're awesome, Allison. You make writing more fun and my days easier. And remember, "MICROSCOPE!" *punches the air* Amber -- You agreed to read my stuff quite readily, which I found odd before, because you're such an awesome writer, and so far above me, I couldn't quite understand why you'd want to bother with suffering through my stories. But I'm glad you did, because you've helped me with this a lot, and I thank you again and again! Where would I be without you? Mooni -- To whom this was dedicated to. God bless you. Meg -- You make everyday funnier. Make sure you always stay nutty. And I will always have a ready supply of Kleneex for you, because you're the best. Thanks for all your help. The GrissomSara mailing list - For putting up with my daily blabber, you deserve the largest of thanks. Telly - for creating the character Chantelle. You're a nut, babe. The sweetest one. Pat - Wherever you are, buddy, I love you. I wait patiently for the day when I will see you again. Keep flashing that party smile, my man. This one's for you.
The next week was unbearable. At work Warrick and I became very good at avoiding one another, even at my going-away party, the one the lab threw for me. He didn't even show up. I was devastated, but tried not to show it as I poured myself drink after drink... It was my way of escaping it all. But as soon as I got home and saw the phone sitting in the corner, the window flashing the words "0 Messages", I was reminded again of the state I was in.
I missed him. A lot. I missed how his hand always found the perfect place on my back while we were walking together; how he smiled instantly when I said his name; how, when we made love, his eyes never left mine. I missed it all, and more. I didn't think I could go one more day without him.
And then there was this other part of me that snuck up and slapped me in the face every now and then. This part of me told me that I was doing the right thing, that all this running was for a reason: to save myself from getting hurt again, like I had with Eddie, and with so many others. I spent my last few nights in Vegas tossing and turning in my bed, throwing myself against walls, buying bottle after bottle of vodka.
Hoping he would call. Or come over.
But he never did.
Not that I could blame him. His pride had been hurt. I had rejected him, and guys like Warrick didn't take that too easily. I could still see his eyes staring back at me, so full of pain and hurt that I could barely stand to look at them. Nothing could erase the memory.
The night came sooner than expected. I shut the door behind me and stared down at my feet as I walked to my car. My bare legs revealed the fact that I had forgotten to shave for a while. I bent down to run my fingers across the stubble that sat there, wanting to know if it was as bad as it looked. I cursed myself for wearing shorts.
Suddenly, a sweet serenity flooded over me, washed over my face and arms, moving down toward my toes. I looked up and saw him coming down the road towards me, his steps long and quick. He was running. His feet hitting the ground, my own breath coming in heavy gasps, my heart beating. Sounds surrounded me.
"Catherine, wait!" He shouted, running faster. He was out of breath, I could tell. I wondered how far he had come. "Please, just-" he stopped about three feet ahead of me, looking terrified. I didn't know what had given him the notion that I was in any hurry.
"Yes?" I asked. I was dying to know what he would say.
"Don't go." He said, stuffing a hand in his pants pocket. I cocked my head a little and raised an eyebrow.
"Why not?" I was teasing him. I wanted him to convince me to stay.
He shrugged. "I can't think of a good reason." He looked defeated. My heart broke instantly when I saw his eyes. I knew what he really wanted to say. "I just know I don't want you to go. I want you to stay."
"And you think that's a convincing reason?" I asked him, almost surprised at his lack of romantic drive.
He shook his head. "No, I know it's not. But I was hoping..." He gulped. "I was hoping it would be enough."
"Give me something else. Why don't you want me to go? What's waiting for me here?" I felt stupid for having to punch it out of him, like I should just leave to see if that would make him say something romantic.
He stared at me, transfixed. "Me?" He sounded hesitant, like he wasn't even sure about that. "Me." Smiling a little, he took one step closer to me, which still placed him little less than three feet away. "Please, Catherine..." His pleading sounded almost pathetic. "Please don't go."
I stared at him, unmoving. Waiting.
Sighing, he lowered his head to look at his shoes. "I'd miss you, and Lindsey. I'd miss the way every room you're in always ends up smelling like you, even if you're only in there for three seconds. I'd miss the way your hair looks in the morning. I'd miss that cute thing you do when you say big words."
I had no idea what he was talking about. "What cute thing?" I asked, curious. He just shook his head.
"I'd miss you beating me in Tetris, and the victory dance you do when the team you bet on wins in hockey."
I smiled at the memory of our break room escapades. The dozens of times we had been stuck in that room together, how we had always made it fun. "I'd miss beating you in Tetris, too."
He chuckled. "Come on, Cath. I know you don't think it would work out, but-" He held out a hand to me. "Give me one more chance, please?"
I smiled a little. "You honestly think that your little speech was going to make me turn down a better-paying job and a better climate?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're wrong." He suddenly looked defeated. "I was just on my way to pick up Lindsey from Eddie's, Warrick. If you had called Grissom before you ran all the way over here, you would have known I changed my mind. I'm not moving to Miami. I turned down the supervisor's job last night." His features changed from sadness to shock. "My home is here."
He smiled then, so wide I thought his cheeks would burst. "I'm so glad." I shivered involuntarily. He moved closer to me, putting his arms around me. I felt safe there. I wasn't sure what this meant, but I knew what I wanted it to.
"I was an idiot, Warrick. I want a relationship. I want this. I want to be with you." I shivered involuntarily. "The past six days have been the worst of my life."
"You're sure this is what you want?" Warrick asked me softly, smoothing down a part of my hair that was sticking up a little. I nodded slowly, wiping a raindrop from the bridge of his nose. It had begun to rain. I hadn't noticed.
"I'm positive."
"And you're going to let him go?" His question confused me, and I looked up at him, my nose crinkled from a lack of understanding.
"Let who go?" I pulled a little away from him to get a better look at his face. His eyes were more green than I had ever seen them, moist and frosty from the temperature.
"Gil." He whispered in my ear. I wondered fleetingly how he knew, but didn't stop to think too long. I was afraid he'd get upset if I took too long to answer so I quickly blurted out,
"Yeah, yeah. I'll let him go." I shivered from the cold, zipping his jacket open and burrowing myself inside of it, resting my cheek against his chest. "How did you know?"
He didn't answer, just wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "Tell me what happened."
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut when I felt his finger on my cheekbone, wiping away the tear I hadn't known was there. "It was at a party. Everyone had left, and he looked so different standing in my living room than he did when he was at the lab. There had always been something unspoken between us, something we both knew we'd have to get out of the way. It was stupid, we were drunk, we both went too far..." I sighed, snuggling closer to Warrick. "When I woke up in the morning he was gone. We never spoke of it again. I should have let it go a long time ago, but for some reason I just couldn't..."
"You never got closure." Warrick told me. "He never told you how he felt about any of it." I was surprised at his understanding, and nodded, nestled inside his jacket. He exhaled a deep breath and held me tighter. "Do you still love him?"
I shook my head quickly, shook it over and over again. "No, no. I never did. I never did love him, not in that way, anyhow. I love him so much in other ways, but not that way." I wondered why it had taken me so long to admit that to myself. "It's just hard to let go of something that you were never really sure you had."
He pulled me away from him and pressed his lips against my forehead. They felt cool and moist, yet warmed my whole body somehow. "I know." He mumbled, moving his arms from my back to my shoulders. "You should talk to him."
I nodded. "I should, but he doesn't want to listen." Warrick stared at me and didn't change his expression. I knew what he wanted me to do. "OK, I'll talk to him tomorrow during break. But what will I say?"
Warrick shrugged. "Everything you feel." A sudden thought seemed to occur to him. "I'll take you out to dinner afterwards, and you can tell me all about it."
"Take me to dinner after shift? That's a little late." I said, trying to look at his face while still staying as closely pressed to him as possible.
"Yes, it is." He said simply, and I giggled. "You don't mind to eat after midnight, do you?"
I shook my head. "But hey, isn't tomorrow your day off?" He looked guilty.
"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget." I laughed. "I'd still like to take you out."
I was shocked. He was going to get out of bed after 12 just to take me out to dinner and hear me blab about my problems. I was in heaven. "How will you know when my shift is over?"
"Call me on my cell." I raised an eyebrow in question, and he answered to reassure me, "I'll be at the club, otherwise I'd say call me at home." He took my arm. "Here's the number." And with a pen that came out of his pocket quick as lightning, he was writing a long number on the inside of my arm. The blue of the ink was a dark contrast to the white of my creamy skin, and I laughed a little when the ball point tickled me.
"Warrick, you don't have to do this, really." He didn't say anything, just put one hand on either side of my face and pulled my lips to his. His sweet, slow kiss took my breath away and I sighed when he let go. "OK, I'm convinced."
Gil was sitting in his office bent over a stack of papers with a puzzled look on his face when I walked in. He looked up when he sensed my presence, smiling slightly when I waved. "Hey Cath." He said lightly, seeming happier than usual.
"Hey Gil." I used my hand to swing the extra chair around to where I was standing. "We have to talk."
I hadn't meant to sound so blunt, but he didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow and motioned for me to sit down. "About anything in particular, or just in general?" I sat down and smiled slightly, putting one of my hands on his.
"We need to talk about that night, Gil." I didn't know what I was expecting to see in his eyes, but relief hadn't been an option. Not until now.
"Yeah, I think so, too." He looked down at our hands together on his desk. "What happened?"
I laughed a little and shook my head. "I have no idea. One minute we're laughing and drinking with Jim and Warrick and everyone else, the next minute you're on me like a hawk on a titmouse."
He looked offended. "That's not true and you know it. You made the first move."
"Really?" I asked, puzzled. "I can't remember."
Our eyes locked. "Neither can I, actually. I was just making that up. Who knows which one of us made the first move?" He sighed in resignation. "We really messed up, didn't we?"
I nodded. "Yeah, we did." I didn't want to say that I regretted what we had done, but I did. Things between us would have been so much more simple if this had never happened. "I do remember a bit about the night, though." I looked at him coyly, hoping to set things back to normal by doing a little friendly flirting.
"Oh?" He asked, looking at a spot on the wall ahead of him. "What?" Finally he looked at me and saw my expression, and laughed.
"I would never have thought that all that muscle lay underneath your clothing-"
"Catherine..." His voice warned me to be quiet.
"Sara is one lucky woman, Gil." He widened his eyes and finally I shut up, giggling and smiling at him apologetically.
"Things are so different now, Cathy."
Before he could continue, I muttered, "Don't call me that." His eyes searched my face for understanding. "How have they changed?"
Before he could answer, Sara showed up in his office, leaning against the doorway and smiling at him. "Ready to go, Gil?" She held up his jacket in her left hand and looked at me fleetingly to acknowledge my presence.
"Yeah," he said to her softly, and got up from his chair, stopping on his way to the door to put a hand on my shoulder. He stared at me, asking me silently if I was OK. I nodded. I smiled to calm his worries and he grinned back, walking out the door and leaving me alone in the room.
I sighed, staring at the pictures of dead insects on his walls. "Gilly, you're a complicated man." The faded ink on the inside of my arm caught my attention, and I ran a finger along Warrick's almost-erased cell phone number that I had put on paper last night.
"But you're right. Things have changed." I picked up the phone on his desk and started to dial the number. "Hey, Warrick!"
Warrick and I walked into the club together two weeks later, holding hands. The familiar scents nearly knocked me off my feet, and my surroundings made me gasp. It was exactly as I had remembered. "It hasn't changed one bit." I said.
"It's only been a month." Warrick reminded me, guiding me to a table where he pulled out a chair for me to sit on. "But I know, it seems longer." He took a seat across from me. I smiled.
"Yeah, it does." He sighed softly, playing with the charms on my bracelet absent-mindedly like he always did. "You gonna sing tonight?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I haven't got anything prepared." The music around us swirled above my head. I heard him hum softly. "You look good tonight." I smiled again.
"Thanks." I put a finger to his lips and then leaned forward to kiss him, getting lost in his scent surrounding me. A loud 'ahem' broke our moment, and I whirled around to see Grissom, Sara, Nick and Greg standing beside our table.
"Are we interrupting something?" Greg asked, smirking. I nodded.
"Yeah!" I said, still shocked at seeing them there. They all shrugged and took seats around the table. Warrick chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow.
"What are you guys doing here?" He asked.
"Grissom pointed out that we never had a proper celebration of the fact that Catherine is staying in Vegas." Sara said, beaming at everyone present.
"Let's eat cake." Gil suggested, and looked around for a menu. I pointed to the wall, and he nodded in realization.
"Let's wait a few minutes for the cake." I said, and grabbed Warrick's hand, pulling him away from the group of friends and into the crowd of strangers that had gathered in the middle of the club. "Dance with me..." I breathed in his ear, and watched as he smiled and drew me in closer to him.
"I love you..." He whispered, swaying with me as the notes caressed the air. His hand smoothed down my hair.
"I love you too." I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
"And you can tell everybody This is your song." - Moulin Rouge