VII - CROSSROADS
Catherine and Grissom were carefully picking over the crime scene. Catherine had just finished taking swabs from the writing on the wall, and Grissom was dusting for fingerprints. Every once in a while, Catherine would glance Grissom's way, trying to gauge his mood. He was not normally a jocular man, but she had expected that he would at least mention something about his date with Mandy. Finally, she could stand no more.
"So -" she asked brightly, as she bagged the swabs "- how was your date."
Grissom didn't even turn to look at her. "Dinner is in a Styrofoam box in my Tahoe."
"Did Mandy mind?"
"Nope. Not at all."
Catherine smiled. "See? I told you she was great! Not at all like Terri, who ditched you when you got a call!"
Grissom shrugged. "That's true. She's not like Terri." He started lifting the prints he had found on the inside of the doorway.
"So, what did you think of her?" Before Grissom could respond, Catherine's cell phone rang. She looked at the call display, and grinned. "Speak of the devil!"
Grissom sighed, and pretended to ignore Catherine as she answered her phone. 'Just keep lifting prints', he thought to himself. Of course, it was hard to miss Catherine's bright voice as she chirped into her phone - "Mandy! So nice to talk to you. So, what did you think?"
Grissom winced as Catherine's tone got softer. Even though his back was to her, he could still feel her eyes boring into his back. He could just imagine her sympathy. She would feel guilty about this. He listened to her heels as she walked down the hallway, away from him and into the Water's kitchen.
Great. Grissom lifted another print. Now he would have to contend with her condolences, her advice, the special tone of voice she used when delivering one of her patented Catherine pep talks. Just what he needed. Carefully walking over to his field kit, he gently placed the dozen or so prints he had pulled so far in to it. He was still crouching by his kit, deep in thought, when Catherine walked out of the kitchen. "Grissom." Her voice was soft. "I'm sorry."
Grissom just nodded. He didn't want to look at her, so he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the prints sitting in his kit.
"Don't worry about it Catherine. I'm a big boy - I can handle it."
"She's a bitch."
"No - she just doesn't like bugs and blood. And since I do, I guess we're not that compatible." Sighing, Grissom closed his kit, and stood up. "Let's tape this off and get back to the lab. I want to run these prints."
Catherine nodded. "Okay. I was at the station when Brass got the call, so I'll head back with you."
Picking up her kit, she quickly caught up with Grissom who was already half way to his Tahoe. She waved at Brass, who was still out front talking to several police officers, and hopped into Grissom's Tahoe, tossing her stuff into the back.
"So - I know what Mandy told me - what's your version of events?" Catherine turned sideways facing Grissom as the Tahoe started moving. He still had not looked at her.
"I don't really want to talk about this, Catherine." As if to prove his words, he leaned forward and flipped on his radio.
"Grissom - come on. It couldn't have been that bad."
Grissom merely snorted, and reached over to turn the radio up. Catherine immediately reached out to stop him, her pale hand resting on his. "Don't do this. Talk to me."
Grissom looked at her hand, still on his, shot a quick glance her way, and looked back to the road. "Okay. What do you want to talk about? How's Lindsey doing?"
"Grissom - Gil - please." Catherine's voice sounded hurt. Grissom shot another glance her way. Just as he had thought, her face was a mask of sympathy. Cursing under his breath, he quickly pulled over to the side of the road, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Fine." His voice was angry. "I blew it, okay. I talked to her about bugs and corpses. I told her I raced beetles. It didn't go well. She was glad when Brass called." he sighed.
"Let's face it, Catherine. Some people are meant to be by themselves, and I am one of them. I don't know how to deal with people. And dating? Forget it! I can't have an interesting conversation with anyone. It's too hard. And I'm too old. A leopard cannot change its spots, and I don't know why I thought I could."
Catherine's hand reached out to Grissom, resting on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Gil - why are you so hard on yourself? You're a wonderful man! You're intelligent, you're well-educated - you're fascinating! You're kind. You're gentle. You're very attractive-" Catherine's voice petered out. Grissom was looking at her in disbelief, his blue eyes piercing hers. She glanced at her hand, and quickly glanced up at him again.
His smile was grim. "Oh yeah. I'm quite a catch. Nice of you to try to boost my ego, Catherine, but it's not going to work. I take back everything I said the other day. Who's going to want a die-hard bachelor who reads forensics magazines for fun and races bugs?"
'I do.' Catherine suddenly realized. 'Oh my God. I want him.'
'Great. She's at a loss for words.' Grissom thought to himself. He quickly turned away from her, freeing his shoulder, and started the Tahoe. His ears were red with humiliation.
"Can't answer that one, can you Catherine?" His voice was tense as he pulled back on to the road. He reached out and turned on the radio again, turning the volume up full blast to save Catherine from responding. Don McLean's rich voice filled the silence of the Tahoe.
~I've got nothing on my mind, nothing to remember, nothing to forget - and I've got nothing to regret.
But I'm all tied up on the inside, no one knows quite what I've got;
and I know that on the outside, what I used to be I'm not anymore.
You know I've heard about people like me, but I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free, and find they've gone the wrong direction.
But there's no need for turning back, `cause all roads lead to where I stand.
And I believe I'll walk them all - no matter what I may have planned.
Can you remember who I was? Can you still feel it? Can you find my pain? Can you heal it?
Then lay your hands upon me now, and cast this darkness from my soul.
You alone can light my way. You alone can make me whole once again.
We've walked both sides of every street, through all kinds of windy weather.
But that was never our defeat, as long as we could walk together.
So there's no need for turning back, `cause all roads lead to where we stand.
And I believe we'll walk them all - no matter what we may have planned.~
Catherine had leaned back into her seat, her eyes closed, as she listened to the song. She felt like crying. She didn't know what to say to him, how to ease his hurt without revealing what she had just learned about herself. Her heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces. She was in love with her best friend, and she didn't know what to do about it.
_____
Author's Note: The song Catherine and Grissom listen to on the radio is called "Crossroads" by Don McLean. It is a beautiful song, and when I listened to it this morning, I immediately thought of them. Please R&R - let me know if this works for you all.
Catherine and Grissom were carefully picking over the crime scene. Catherine had just finished taking swabs from the writing on the wall, and Grissom was dusting for fingerprints. Every once in a while, Catherine would glance Grissom's way, trying to gauge his mood. He was not normally a jocular man, but she had expected that he would at least mention something about his date with Mandy. Finally, she could stand no more.
"So -" she asked brightly, as she bagged the swabs "- how was your date."
Grissom didn't even turn to look at her. "Dinner is in a Styrofoam box in my Tahoe."
"Did Mandy mind?"
"Nope. Not at all."
Catherine smiled. "See? I told you she was great! Not at all like Terri, who ditched you when you got a call!"
Grissom shrugged. "That's true. She's not like Terri." He started lifting the prints he had found on the inside of the doorway.
"So, what did you think of her?" Before Grissom could respond, Catherine's cell phone rang. She looked at the call display, and grinned. "Speak of the devil!"
Grissom sighed, and pretended to ignore Catherine as she answered her phone. 'Just keep lifting prints', he thought to himself. Of course, it was hard to miss Catherine's bright voice as she chirped into her phone - "Mandy! So nice to talk to you. So, what did you think?"
Grissom winced as Catherine's tone got softer. Even though his back was to her, he could still feel her eyes boring into his back. He could just imagine her sympathy. She would feel guilty about this. He listened to her heels as she walked down the hallway, away from him and into the Water's kitchen.
Great. Grissom lifted another print. Now he would have to contend with her condolences, her advice, the special tone of voice she used when delivering one of her patented Catherine pep talks. Just what he needed. Carefully walking over to his field kit, he gently placed the dozen or so prints he had pulled so far in to it. He was still crouching by his kit, deep in thought, when Catherine walked out of the kitchen. "Grissom." Her voice was soft. "I'm sorry."
Grissom just nodded. He didn't want to look at her, so he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the prints sitting in his kit.
"Don't worry about it Catherine. I'm a big boy - I can handle it."
"She's a bitch."
"No - she just doesn't like bugs and blood. And since I do, I guess we're not that compatible." Sighing, Grissom closed his kit, and stood up. "Let's tape this off and get back to the lab. I want to run these prints."
Catherine nodded. "Okay. I was at the station when Brass got the call, so I'll head back with you."
Picking up her kit, she quickly caught up with Grissom who was already half way to his Tahoe. She waved at Brass, who was still out front talking to several police officers, and hopped into Grissom's Tahoe, tossing her stuff into the back.
"So - I know what Mandy told me - what's your version of events?" Catherine turned sideways facing Grissom as the Tahoe started moving. He still had not looked at her.
"I don't really want to talk about this, Catherine." As if to prove his words, he leaned forward and flipped on his radio.
"Grissom - come on. It couldn't have been that bad."
Grissom merely snorted, and reached over to turn the radio up. Catherine immediately reached out to stop him, her pale hand resting on his. "Don't do this. Talk to me."
Grissom looked at her hand, still on his, shot a quick glance her way, and looked back to the road. "Okay. What do you want to talk about? How's Lindsey doing?"
"Grissom - Gil - please." Catherine's voice sounded hurt. Grissom shot another glance her way. Just as he had thought, her face was a mask of sympathy. Cursing under his breath, he quickly pulled over to the side of the road, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Fine." His voice was angry. "I blew it, okay. I talked to her about bugs and corpses. I told her I raced beetles. It didn't go well. She was glad when Brass called." he sighed.
"Let's face it, Catherine. Some people are meant to be by themselves, and I am one of them. I don't know how to deal with people. And dating? Forget it! I can't have an interesting conversation with anyone. It's too hard. And I'm too old. A leopard cannot change its spots, and I don't know why I thought I could."
Catherine's hand reached out to Grissom, resting on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Gil - why are you so hard on yourself? You're a wonderful man! You're intelligent, you're well-educated - you're fascinating! You're kind. You're gentle. You're very attractive-" Catherine's voice petered out. Grissom was looking at her in disbelief, his blue eyes piercing hers. She glanced at her hand, and quickly glanced up at him again.
His smile was grim. "Oh yeah. I'm quite a catch. Nice of you to try to boost my ego, Catherine, but it's not going to work. I take back everything I said the other day. Who's going to want a die-hard bachelor who reads forensics magazines for fun and races bugs?"
'I do.' Catherine suddenly realized. 'Oh my God. I want him.'
'Great. She's at a loss for words.' Grissom thought to himself. He quickly turned away from her, freeing his shoulder, and started the Tahoe. His ears were red with humiliation.
"Can't answer that one, can you Catherine?" His voice was tense as he pulled back on to the road. He reached out and turned on the radio again, turning the volume up full blast to save Catherine from responding. Don McLean's rich voice filled the silence of the Tahoe.
~I've got nothing on my mind, nothing to remember, nothing to forget - and I've got nothing to regret.
But I'm all tied up on the inside, no one knows quite what I've got;
and I know that on the outside, what I used to be I'm not anymore.
You know I've heard about people like me, but I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free, and find they've gone the wrong direction.
But there's no need for turning back, `cause all roads lead to where I stand.
And I believe I'll walk them all - no matter what I may have planned.
Can you remember who I was? Can you still feel it? Can you find my pain? Can you heal it?
Then lay your hands upon me now, and cast this darkness from my soul.
You alone can light my way. You alone can make me whole once again.
We've walked both sides of every street, through all kinds of windy weather.
But that was never our defeat, as long as we could walk together.
So there's no need for turning back, `cause all roads lead to where we stand.
And I believe we'll walk them all - no matter what we may have planned.~
Catherine had leaned back into her seat, her eyes closed, as she listened to the song. She felt like crying. She didn't know what to say to him, how to ease his hurt without revealing what she had just learned about herself. Her heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces. She was in love with her best friend, and she didn't know what to do about it.
_____
Author's Note: The song Catherine and Grissom listen to on the radio is called "Crossroads" by Don McLean. It is a beautiful song, and when I listened to it this morning, I immediately thought of them. Please R&R - let me know if this works for you all.