Includes a flashback.
A Chance for Unrequited Love (Part IV)
Priority, Greg. Priority.
"Grissom just handed me some priority stuff too, Cath."
But who are you going to listen to?
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
Very good. ASAP, Greg.
"Yeah, okay."
"What'd you just give him?" Warrick asked me as we walked down the hall.
The rope.
"All right, and Doc Robbins just finished checking the body for us. He says cause of death was definitely strangling."
Anything else?
"Nothing yet."
You think it's the mother?
"The last person to see 'em alive is usually the one who did it."
Brass is talking to the mother now?
"Yeah, and she's definitely lyin'. I was there for part of it."
What'd she say?
"Nothing that she said. Her body movement. Her gestures. Shifting in her seat. Not lookin' Brass in the eye when he questioned her. Stuff like that."
All right then, all we need now is some proof. Let's go talk to the girl for a little bit. See if she's okay.
"Sure."
"Why won't you let me see my mommy?" She sobbed loudly.
Warrick and I sat across from each other in the interrogation room, the glass wall empty. We made sure no one was behind. The girl didn't need that. And now, Warrick stared blankly at the table top. The girl sat on my lap, her little arms around my neck, begging me.
"I want to see my mommy. Please? I promise it'll just be two seconds. I promise."
I can't, I replied, struggling with tears of my own.
"No! I want to see her now. Please? I promise I'll be good."
I know you'll be good, but I can't let you.
"Why not?"
I looked at Warrick. Slowly, his green eyes raised to meet mine, his eyebrows furrowed.
Not now.
Someone knocked on the door. It was Brass. Warrick waved him in.
"Something wrong?"
"Yeah, I had to release the mother."
What? Why? Her prints were all over the body. And I bet her epithelials are on the rope too.
"I asked her what happened. She said when she found her son, she took him out and untied the rope. So, that explains why. I can't hold her on that."
I swallowed hard, but didn't say anything.
"Sorry, Cath."
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
====================
I opened my eyes. Was someone knocking on the front door? I blinked back the stars obscuring my vision and sat up. The clock on the table read 3:56. Who in their right mind would be coming - Gil. Gil. I bolted to the door nearly tripping over myself. I swung it open quickly.
"I'm sorry, Cath. I know I shouldn't have come, but I just needed to see you."
No, it's all right. Come in. Is everything okay?
"I did something very unlike me."
Shouldn't you still be at work? It's only four.
"Yeah. We had a little 'incident' as my boss called it." I sat down with him on the couch. "They suspended me for a few days."
What? Why? What did you do?
"I was working on this case with Henderson, this guy who works graveyard too. 420, homicide on a stripper on the highway just outside the city...God, I don't feel like talking about this right now."
Okay. Okay, then don't. Just rest a while first.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't've bothered you about all this." He mumbled as he looked away from me.
Hey, Gil.
"Hmmm?"
Gil, listen to me. Listen to me.
I touched his cheek, making eye contact. His eyes were hurting, in distress, asking for some sort of help.
Are you listening? I said softly, barely catching my breath at the sight of his eyes.
"Yeah."
You can always come to me, Gil. All right? Whatever it is, you don't have to hide it from me. Okay? Hey, all right?
"Yeah, all right."
And before I could process it, I kissed him. I just wanted to make his pain go away. He was hurting so much, I didn't know what else I could do. I wanted to help him so badly, and some things you just couldn't say with words. You could only express those inexpressible things with motions, actions.
He didn't pull away like I thought him might've, which was one of the things that really surprised me about him.
So, you want to tell me what happened? I said the next morning.
"Homicide. Stripper." He said sitting up from the couch, buttoning up his shirt, "That idiot Henderson just said she deserved it. She deserved a life like that. Only worthless, unintelligent women became strippers."
He looked at me, and touched my face, tracing my features with his finger like a blind man.
"I thought of...you. And I blew up."
Blew up how?
"I punched him."
You what?
"Yeah. I couldn't believe it myself. My boss suspended me for a few days, and transferred me to morning shift."
You punched a guy?
He laughed at my disbelief. "Yeah. Gave him a bloody nose. Probably broke my hand."
I think your hand's fine seeing the performance last night.
He blushed, smiling.
Thank you, Gil.
"For what?"
Well, I'm glad you don't think me like that.
He looked at me, his eyes serious like I've never seen them. "I would never think that of you."
You better not, I teased.
"Never."
====================
What are you telling me?
"I don't want to go home." The little girl sobbed.
What? Why not? I thought you wanted to see your mom.
"I do," She sniffled loudly, "but I'm scared."
I sat with the daughter in my lap, holding her tight, scared of what I could find out, but just as eager to hear. I reached into my jacket pocket and pressed the record button on my tape recorder I always kept in handy.
Why?
"Mommy - well, she - well, she - "
What?
She shook her head vigorously.
You can tell me.
"She doesn't know."
She doesn't know what?
"She doesn't know I saw her."
You saw her?
"Yeah, I saw her."
What do you mean?
"I can't tell." She shook her head again.
You can tell me, I urged.
"She - she - Mommy - she - I saw her - she was - she was hurting Jonathan."
She was? When?
"The day before yesterday."
Was he crying?
"No. He - he - he wasn't crying. Mommy - she - she thought I wasn't home - but - but I was. I - I saw her."
Are you sure?
She nodded slowly, her eyes growing wide.
How come you didn't say anything before?
"I didn't - I didn't want Mommy to be in trouble. I mean, I love Mommy, but I'm scared too. But I do love her." Her eyes grew wider. "You won't take her away, will you?"
I couldn't respond. How the hell do you answer something like that?
"You - you won't, will you?"
A Chance for Unrequited Love (Part IV)
Priority, Greg. Priority.
"Grissom just handed me some priority stuff too, Cath."
But who are you going to listen to?
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
Very good. ASAP, Greg.
"Yeah, okay."
"What'd you just give him?" Warrick asked me as we walked down the hall.
The rope.
"All right, and Doc Robbins just finished checking the body for us. He says cause of death was definitely strangling."
Anything else?
"Nothing yet."
You think it's the mother?
"The last person to see 'em alive is usually the one who did it."
Brass is talking to the mother now?
"Yeah, and she's definitely lyin'. I was there for part of it."
What'd she say?
"Nothing that she said. Her body movement. Her gestures. Shifting in her seat. Not lookin' Brass in the eye when he questioned her. Stuff like that."
All right then, all we need now is some proof. Let's go talk to the girl for a little bit. See if she's okay.
"Sure."
"Why won't you let me see my mommy?" She sobbed loudly.
Warrick and I sat across from each other in the interrogation room, the glass wall empty. We made sure no one was behind. The girl didn't need that. And now, Warrick stared blankly at the table top. The girl sat on my lap, her little arms around my neck, begging me.
"I want to see my mommy. Please? I promise it'll just be two seconds. I promise."
I can't, I replied, struggling with tears of my own.
"No! I want to see her now. Please? I promise I'll be good."
I know you'll be good, but I can't let you.
"Why not?"
I looked at Warrick. Slowly, his green eyes raised to meet mine, his eyebrows furrowed.
Not now.
Someone knocked on the door. It was Brass. Warrick waved him in.
"Something wrong?"
"Yeah, I had to release the mother."
What? Why? Her prints were all over the body. And I bet her epithelials are on the rope too.
"I asked her what happened. She said when she found her son, she took him out and untied the rope. So, that explains why. I can't hold her on that."
I swallowed hard, but didn't say anything.
"Sorry, Cath."
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
====================
I opened my eyes. Was someone knocking on the front door? I blinked back the stars obscuring my vision and sat up. The clock on the table read 3:56. Who in their right mind would be coming - Gil. Gil. I bolted to the door nearly tripping over myself. I swung it open quickly.
"I'm sorry, Cath. I know I shouldn't have come, but I just needed to see you."
No, it's all right. Come in. Is everything okay?
"I did something very unlike me."
Shouldn't you still be at work? It's only four.
"Yeah. We had a little 'incident' as my boss called it." I sat down with him on the couch. "They suspended me for a few days."
What? Why? What did you do?
"I was working on this case with Henderson, this guy who works graveyard too. 420, homicide on a stripper on the highway just outside the city...God, I don't feel like talking about this right now."
Okay. Okay, then don't. Just rest a while first.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't've bothered you about all this." He mumbled as he looked away from me.
Hey, Gil.
"Hmmm?"
Gil, listen to me. Listen to me.
I touched his cheek, making eye contact. His eyes were hurting, in distress, asking for some sort of help.
Are you listening? I said softly, barely catching my breath at the sight of his eyes.
"Yeah."
You can always come to me, Gil. All right? Whatever it is, you don't have to hide it from me. Okay? Hey, all right?
"Yeah, all right."
And before I could process it, I kissed him. I just wanted to make his pain go away. He was hurting so much, I didn't know what else I could do. I wanted to help him so badly, and some things you just couldn't say with words. You could only express those inexpressible things with motions, actions.
He didn't pull away like I thought him might've, which was one of the things that really surprised me about him.
So, you want to tell me what happened? I said the next morning.
"Homicide. Stripper." He said sitting up from the couch, buttoning up his shirt, "That idiot Henderson just said she deserved it. She deserved a life like that. Only worthless, unintelligent women became strippers."
He looked at me, and touched my face, tracing my features with his finger like a blind man.
"I thought of...you. And I blew up."
Blew up how?
"I punched him."
You what?
"Yeah. I couldn't believe it myself. My boss suspended me for a few days, and transferred me to morning shift."
You punched a guy?
He laughed at my disbelief. "Yeah. Gave him a bloody nose. Probably broke my hand."
I think your hand's fine seeing the performance last night.
He blushed, smiling.
Thank you, Gil.
"For what?"
Well, I'm glad you don't think me like that.
He looked at me, his eyes serious like I've never seen them. "I would never think that of you."
You better not, I teased.
"Never."
====================
What are you telling me?
"I don't want to go home." The little girl sobbed.
What? Why not? I thought you wanted to see your mom.
"I do," She sniffled loudly, "but I'm scared."
I sat with the daughter in my lap, holding her tight, scared of what I could find out, but just as eager to hear. I reached into my jacket pocket and pressed the record button on my tape recorder I always kept in handy.
Why?
"Mommy - well, she - well, she - "
What?
She shook her head vigorously.
You can tell me.
"She doesn't know."
She doesn't know what?
"She doesn't know I saw her."
You saw her?
"Yeah, I saw her."
What do you mean?
"I can't tell." She shook her head again.
You can tell me, I urged.
"She - she - Mommy - she - I saw her - she was - she was hurting Jonathan."
She was? When?
"The day before yesterday."
Was he crying?
"No. He - he - he wasn't crying. Mommy - she - she thought I wasn't home - but - but I was. I - I saw her."
Are you sure?
She nodded slowly, her eyes growing wide.
How come you didn't say anything before?
"I didn't - I didn't want Mommy to be in trouble. I mean, I love Mommy, but I'm scared too. But I do love her." Her eyes grew wider. "You won't take her away, will you?"
I couldn't respond. How the hell do you answer something like that?
"You - you won't, will you?"