XIX - DOUBTS
"Well, that was fairly shut and dry." Nick's voice was flat as he snapped his field kit shut. "On the bright side, good case to learn on, Greg."
Greg looked a little queasy as he peeled off his latex gloves. "How long does it take to get used to the blood?"
"Not long. You did good, Greg. The first murder / suicide I processed, I tossed my cookies in the side garden before we left. I hate to say it though, you do get - immune? - if that's the right word." Warrick's voice was encouraging, and he smiled at the young lab tech.
Sara piped up. "You'll get used to it. You reacted much better than you did when you helped out at that bus accident. It's always hard though - especially murder /suicides. They're pointless. If you want to kill yourself, fine - do it. But to take out another person with you? I don't think I'll ever be able to understand that."
Greg was listening intently to the other three, nodding his head. "I never realized how much you have to be aware of when you're processing a scene like that. I mean, obviously, on a theoretical level I knew. But when you have to put it into practice - there's so many things - it's hard to remember it all."
"Nah. Eventually, it will get to be like second nature. Besides which, you've got a good start - you look behind the obvious for hints anyway. All the lab work you do proves that, so you already know how to use your head. You just have to apply it differently when you're actually processing a scene." Nick handed Greg his field kit. "We need to get you your own field kit if you're going to be joining us more often. Want me to take you shopping for a case after shift?"
Greg looked at Nick, startled at his offer, his eyes glancing quickly at Sara. "Really? You'd do that?"
Nick shrugged. "Sure. I have to go shopping anyway - some things to pick up." He looked at Sara, grinning. "And since absence makes the heart grow fonder -"
Sara snorted. "I've got some things to do, too. So Greg, you'd be doing me a favor if you get him out of my hair for a few hours. I'll even pay you for the babysitting."
Warrick laughed. "Babysitting. That's so true - she's got your number, Nick. C'mon. Let's haul ass and get back to the lab. Maybe Grissom and Catherine have nailed the K-ROX murderer."
* * * * *
Grissom was sitting in the break room, raptly staring at the microwave. He had a crossword puzzle in front of him, but his mind was on other things. He knew he should be thinking about the case, and a part of him was, but another part of him - the emotional part of him, was thinking of Catherine.
His time with her after last night's shift had been - spectacular. He had felt more alive and more connected to a human being then he ever had before in his entire life. But with the light of day - or in this case, night - the feelings of euphoria had quickly faded, to be replaced by confusion and lingering doubt. Grissom was not used to questioning himself; had always considered himself a self-confident man, but as the hours had passed, doubts had quickly surfaced. What was Catherine doing with him? Sure, she was his best friend and he was beginning to realize how much he loved her, but did she love him back, or did she just feel sorry for him? Grissom just didn't know.
When he looked at Catherine he saw a brilliant woman, beautiful, personable - the life of the party. She was the most nurturing person he had ever met, and she had the heart and intelligence to make her one of the truly unique people in his life. Every man that passed within radius of Catherine was immediately charmed by her wit and intelligence, dazzled by her beauty - they all ended up falling in love with her, just a little bit.
And he, well, Grissom knew his own shortcomings. He was an intelligent man, sure. That couldn't be denied. He was very good at what he did, but he was quirky and eccentric, and he knew it. Catherine had said he had beautiful eyes, and Grissom believed she meant it, but they were the high light of what he considered an otherwise very bland face. His hair was thick, but curly and graying, and if he didn't keep it cropped close to his head, he looked like a Q-tip. The rest of his features were - average. He was in good shape, but again, nothing spectacular. Where Catherine was like a beautiful hummingbird, he was a like a Grackle. Dull. Boring. Average. And what would a hummingbird want with a grackle?
He jumped in surprise as he felt Catherine slide into the empty spot next to him on the small vinyl sofa. He turned startled eyes on her, and was overwhelmed by the feelings of inadequacy that swamped him. He quickly looked away.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice was soft. Grissom looked at her again, and he smiled nervously. He felt a hand fall to his knee, and forcibly swallowed back the soft sigh that almost escaped at her gentle touch. He didn't say anything.
"Gil? Is something wrong? You look a little - pre-occupied." Again, her soft voice intruded on his thoughts. He detected a hint of concern.
He looked at her hand on his knee, before twisting slightly to face her. "Can I ask you a question? In all seriousness?" His voice was low-pitched and serious. Catherine smiled at him, but he sensed a growing trepidation in her gaze. She nodded.
"What was last night all about? You didn't feel sorry for me, did you?" Grissom regretted his words the minute they were out of his mouth. Catherine pulled her hand away and quickly sat up. Her face had quickly flushed a deep red, and her eyes flashed at him angrily.
"Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?" Her voice was deadly calm, but each word clipped his already raw nerves like a whip. "You think I *slept* with you - I had sex with you - because I feel sorry for you?" Before Grissom could respond, try to rephrase his question, she continued. "What type of person do you think I am, Grissom? 'Oh, poor Grissom, he's had a bad day - maybe a little mercy fuck will cheer him up?'" Her voice was incredulous, and Grissom could see she was shaking. Her eyes shone like emeralds through the tears she was trying not to cry. "Sometimes Grissom, you are such an asshole. I can't believe we're even friends if your opinion of me is that low."
Grissom quickly stood as Catherine jumped to her feet, reaching out to her before she could leave the break room. She pulled away from him, spinning just out of his reach. All of a sudden, her voice broke. "I always knew you had the power to break my heart, Gil. I just didn't think you would do it so soon. I'm going down to my office. And I don't want to see you following me. If you need me for anything work related, send someone else to get me."
Grissom sank back into the vinyl loveseat, lowering his head in his hands. And that's how the others found him 20 minutes later.
_______
Author's note: Poor Grissom! I got to thinking how he would react to an unexpected night of passion with Catherine, and thought this would be the way he would go. He's always struck me as a little naïve about matters of the heart, and his obsessive need to analyze things would get him in trouble in a situation such as this. Plus, he doesn't strike me as someone confident in his own physicality - he's awkward and geeky, and underestimates his attractions all the time. Hence - this chapter. Let me know what you all think.
"Well, that was fairly shut and dry." Nick's voice was flat as he snapped his field kit shut. "On the bright side, good case to learn on, Greg."
Greg looked a little queasy as he peeled off his latex gloves. "How long does it take to get used to the blood?"
"Not long. You did good, Greg. The first murder / suicide I processed, I tossed my cookies in the side garden before we left. I hate to say it though, you do get - immune? - if that's the right word." Warrick's voice was encouraging, and he smiled at the young lab tech.
Sara piped up. "You'll get used to it. You reacted much better than you did when you helped out at that bus accident. It's always hard though - especially murder /suicides. They're pointless. If you want to kill yourself, fine - do it. But to take out another person with you? I don't think I'll ever be able to understand that."
Greg was listening intently to the other three, nodding his head. "I never realized how much you have to be aware of when you're processing a scene like that. I mean, obviously, on a theoretical level I knew. But when you have to put it into practice - there's so many things - it's hard to remember it all."
"Nah. Eventually, it will get to be like second nature. Besides which, you've got a good start - you look behind the obvious for hints anyway. All the lab work you do proves that, so you already know how to use your head. You just have to apply it differently when you're actually processing a scene." Nick handed Greg his field kit. "We need to get you your own field kit if you're going to be joining us more often. Want me to take you shopping for a case after shift?"
Greg looked at Nick, startled at his offer, his eyes glancing quickly at Sara. "Really? You'd do that?"
Nick shrugged. "Sure. I have to go shopping anyway - some things to pick up." He looked at Sara, grinning. "And since absence makes the heart grow fonder -"
Sara snorted. "I've got some things to do, too. So Greg, you'd be doing me a favor if you get him out of my hair for a few hours. I'll even pay you for the babysitting."
Warrick laughed. "Babysitting. That's so true - she's got your number, Nick. C'mon. Let's haul ass and get back to the lab. Maybe Grissom and Catherine have nailed the K-ROX murderer."
* * * * *
Grissom was sitting in the break room, raptly staring at the microwave. He had a crossword puzzle in front of him, but his mind was on other things. He knew he should be thinking about the case, and a part of him was, but another part of him - the emotional part of him, was thinking of Catherine.
His time with her after last night's shift had been - spectacular. He had felt more alive and more connected to a human being then he ever had before in his entire life. But with the light of day - or in this case, night - the feelings of euphoria had quickly faded, to be replaced by confusion and lingering doubt. Grissom was not used to questioning himself; had always considered himself a self-confident man, but as the hours had passed, doubts had quickly surfaced. What was Catherine doing with him? Sure, she was his best friend and he was beginning to realize how much he loved her, but did she love him back, or did she just feel sorry for him? Grissom just didn't know.
When he looked at Catherine he saw a brilliant woman, beautiful, personable - the life of the party. She was the most nurturing person he had ever met, and she had the heart and intelligence to make her one of the truly unique people in his life. Every man that passed within radius of Catherine was immediately charmed by her wit and intelligence, dazzled by her beauty - they all ended up falling in love with her, just a little bit.
And he, well, Grissom knew his own shortcomings. He was an intelligent man, sure. That couldn't be denied. He was very good at what he did, but he was quirky and eccentric, and he knew it. Catherine had said he had beautiful eyes, and Grissom believed she meant it, but they were the high light of what he considered an otherwise very bland face. His hair was thick, but curly and graying, and if he didn't keep it cropped close to his head, he looked like a Q-tip. The rest of his features were - average. He was in good shape, but again, nothing spectacular. Where Catherine was like a beautiful hummingbird, he was a like a Grackle. Dull. Boring. Average. And what would a hummingbird want with a grackle?
He jumped in surprise as he felt Catherine slide into the empty spot next to him on the small vinyl sofa. He turned startled eyes on her, and was overwhelmed by the feelings of inadequacy that swamped him. He quickly looked away.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice was soft. Grissom looked at her again, and he smiled nervously. He felt a hand fall to his knee, and forcibly swallowed back the soft sigh that almost escaped at her gentle touch. He didn't say anything.
"Gil? Is something wrong? You look a little - pre-occupied." Again, her soft voice intruded on his thoughts. He detected a hint of concern.
He looked at her hand on his knee, before twisting slightly to face her. "Can I ask you a question? In all seriousness?" His voice was low-pitched and serious. Catherine smiled at him, but he sensed a growing trepidation in her gaze. She nodded.
"What was last night all about? You didn't feel sorry for me, did you?" Grissom regretted his words the minute they were out of his mouth. Catherine pulled her hand away and quickly sat up. Her face had quickly flushed a deep red, and her eyes flashed at him angrily.
"Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?" Her voice was deadly calm, but each word clipped his already raw nerves like a whip. "You think I *slept* with you - I had sex with you - because I feel sorry for you?" Before Grissom could respond, try to rephrase his question, she continued. "What type of person do you think I am, Grissom? 'Oh, poor Grissom, he's had a bad day - maybe a little mercy fuck will cheer him up?'" Her voice was incredulous, and Grissom could see she was shaking. Her eyes shone like emeralds through the tears she was trying not to cry. "Sometimes Grissom, you are such an asshole. I can't believe we're even friends if your opinion of me is that low."
Grissom quickly stood as Catherine jumped to her feet, reaching out to her before she could leave the break room. She pulled away from him, spinning just out of his reach. All of a sudden, her voice broke. "I always knew you had the power to break my heart, Gil. I just didn't think you would do it so soon. I'm going down to my office. And I don't want to see you following me. If you need me for anything work related, send someone else to get me."
Grissom sank back into the vinyl loveseat, lowering his head in his hands. And that's how the others found him 20 minutes later.
_______
Author's note: Poor Grissom! I got to thinking how he would react to an unexpected night of passion with Catherine, and thought this would be the way he would go. He's always struck me as a little naïve about matters of the heart, and his obsessive need to analyze things would get him in trouble in a situation such as this. Plus, he doesn't strike me as someone confident in his own physicality - he's awkward and geeky, and underestimates his attractions all the time. Hence - this chapter. Let me know what you all think.