Souvenir Chapter 2: Christmas Eve Evening, a csi fanfic

Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: This is for b8kworm. Thank you for watching CSI in the first place. Thank you for getting me hooked. You know that I'll make you sorry for it.
Thanks to Angie, Manda, and Ann for the storyline read through and encouragement.
Thanks to you wackos on graveshiftcsi. You're all incredible. Now if only we could get those lurkers to speak up more often.

Archives: the Graveyard, ShipperworldCSI, Working Love, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): G/C

Sequel to "Sex In The Desert".

***** ***** *****

Title: Souvenir (Snapshot)

Author: Laeta
E-mail: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Part 2: Christmas Eve - Evening

With over ten people working the rest of the evening to persuade Grissom to carve the turkey, it was difficult for him to avoid the job. In the kitchen, he had quietly confessed a certain ineptitude to Catherine; she guaranteed her assistance.

When the time came, with the help of one particular golden-haired little girl, he found himself suddenly facing a gorgeously hued turkey. The table was laid with reflecting crystals and polished silverware. It was heaped with something for everybody; the mood set by scattered candles, the lit chandelier, and the laughing friends and family surrounding the table.

Catherine appeared at his side and Lindsey left it. She carefully set the recently sharpened knife and fork within his reach and placed a comforting hand on his left shoulder. The other hand braced on the table for balance, she leaned in to speak softly into his ear so he could hear her easily.

Instilled with her words of encouragement, he picked up the carving tools and made the first cut. Predictably, the camera flash went off.

Dinner was an easy affair as there were no lulls in the conversation around the heaping table. The children were eager to show-off their newly acquired tales; the parents were in the mood to humor their children. Laughter rang frequent while the wine flowed freely. In the midst of it all was Grissom who had quickly become the children's favorite and gained the honorable status of uncle following Lindsey's moniker for him. The adults found an interesting and very well informed man as they conversed with him. Before anybody knew it, the children had left the table and it was almost time for the customary pre-Christmas morning gift opening.

Leaving the children to speculate on the gifts under the magnificent tree, all the remaining table occupants helped to clear the table and clean the kitchen. Those who had cooked before drifted to join the enthusiastic children while those who had spent the afternoon in the company of the television opted to wash dishes.

Since everybody had descended to Catherine's house, she was graciously ejected from the kitchen and Grissom's presence was not required until later, both found themselves on the back patio for a quiet moment before the storm. They leaned against the railing in the cold night as they gazed to the stars shining brightly above.

"Thank you for inviting me, Catherine."

"Pleasure. Though I'm sure that there were moments you wanted to kill me."

"In retrospect, not anymore."

"Being here tonight really means a lot to Lindsey, Gil."

"I know. How about to you?"

"You already know the answer to that."

True enough, he did. One secret night in their far or near past, they had stood exactly like this and their world had changed. That night at a ranch in Montana, they gained the courage to open their souls to one another and freely shared every experience, emotion, and thought with only the falling snow to bear witness. It faithfully promised to keep that night undiscovered as he and Catherine revisited their pasts in an effort to discover their futures. Nowadays, Grissom hated snow because it reminded him of this special night where everything changed but ended up staying exactly the same.

As they stood in the night with the sky colored pink overhead while snow fell beyond the reach of the porch, each stood remembering their lost loved ones. For Grissom, death had become almost commonplace in the way that he equated it with loneliness and emptiness. Catherine, on the other hand, was still a stranger to death - at that point. She was adapted already to loneliness but the emptiness associated with grief was yet unknown. And so, for the first time in his life, Grissom found himself in a position to give comfort and aid instead of being the one taking it away as he usually was apt to do in his work.

At some point, Grissom realized that words were not necessary if one could show the same emotion in a heartfelt gesture. This revelation brought both friends into a desperate clasp that went deeper than their physical bodies; it was as though their souls had joined hands and became bridges for the other. On any other night, this would have been frightening but, then and there, it was a comfortable sensation. Even after their need for physical reassurance passed, they remained in each other's arms. It was safety and ease that kept them there.

To this day, neither knew who initiated the gentle swaying. All either registered was that they were suddenly dancing to the ancient music of the nine Muses. However, it was Catherine who suddenly pulled him out from the protective covering of the porch. Snow crunched merrily under their feet as she twirled with her face tilted to the sky as Grissom held her grounded. They laughed unreservedly with unexpected pleasure for long moments until Catherine caught her arms around Grissom's neck and gazed fully into his eyes.

Awareness snapped quickly into their eyes, but they moved to draw the moment out. Grissom could still remember the weight of her against his body and the feel of her breath against his skin. The kiss was sweet and gentle and held no demands.

By mutual consent, Grissom stepped away from Catherine though they both wished he would stay. Unfortunately, Catherine was still mourning and Grissom had demons yet to fight. However, before dawn arrived to end their interlude, they promised someday to resume this night since what they had was too special to ignore.

"Do you ever think about that night, Cath?"

"Every day that passes I think about it more."

"I dream about it. Sometimes - I wish - sometimes, I want to go back to that night."

"Would you change anything?"

"Yes - the way we left everything there."

Mirroring her actions from long ago, she looked full into his eyes, which were full of lost chances and regrets, and noticed that, like that far from forgotten night, they reflected the starlight. He stepped away from the railing and held out his hands. Involuntarily, she leaned toward him. Slipping his arm around her waist, he pulled her willing body toward his. Eyes closed, she could feel the warmth of his body contrasting sharply to the night and the puffs of his breaths against her skin created shivers that the cold could not.

"Dance with me, Catherine Willows."

At the back door stood a silent eight-year old girl. She did not bother trying to hide herself; it was not necessary. Her body was passive, but her face told a completely different story. It appeared that she had just connected a story that Catherine had told the children earlier. Realizing that the characters in the story had been her mother and Uncle Grissom, Lindsey carefully raised the camera to her eye and captured the moment for the rest of eternity.

Part 3: Christmas Day