A/N: The last part of the last fic for the 12 days of Christmas…I hope you have enjoyed
the ride…for this story, and all the others that have been posted for the holiday season.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Allison.
"A Season of Change' Part 5
It was a ten minute drive back to Catherine's house from the school, and she slept
the entire way, relishing in the much needed sleep. She longed for her bed, and soon she
was there, under her covers, bleary-eyed, letting the warmth of the sheets envelop her.
Slowly her eyes closed, and sleep overcame her, as Grissom kissed her cheek, and pushed
her blonde hair behind her ears, before walking out into the kitchen.
His pager was vibrating on the counter, and he picked it up, recognizing at once,
the number of CSI. Grabbing Catherine's phone off the hook, he dialed the number and
waited for someone to pick up.
"Grissom, it's Nick."
"What's up? Something important come up?" he asked, searching for a pot in
Catherine's cupboard.
"Warrick and I were just wondering what was going on with our Christmas
party…it's supposed to start in an hour"
Grissom groaned inwardly, realizing he had forgotten that the party was at his
townhouse, by Catherine's insistence. And she wasn't in any shape to go, or be left alone,
for that matter.
"Nick…I need to speak with Warrick."
"Sure." Confusions was layered thick in the CSI's voice as he handed off the
phone. Footsteps could be heard, and then the exchange was made.
"Hey Gris, it's Warrick."
"Catherine's pretty sick Warrick…she needs someone to stay with her. I'm here
now…you're going to have to have the party somewhere else."
On the other end, Warrick wondered how Grissom could have ended up looking
after the blonde CSI, shrugging off his suspicions, and Sara's conversation from earlier.
'He is a friend', Warrick thought, Catherine must not have had anyone else to call on
Christmas Eve.
"We'll take care of it. Tell Catherine to get well."
"Thanks. I will. Bye."
Clicking off the phone and opening the fridge, he pulled out ingredients and
began to prepare some soup… glad Catherine was able to rest peacefully in the other
room.
* * * * *
"Grissom and Catherine sure are missing one hell of a party," Greg shouted,
downing his third glass of egg nog, some escaping out of the glass and onto his chin.
There was no doubt the young lab technician was enjoying himself.
"I don't think Catherine would be enjoying herself if she was here," Warrick
replied. "You didn't see her last night, she looked awful."
"And Grissom said he is staying with her…I wonder why that is?"
Nicks question voiced the concerns that all the CSI's were thinking at the
moment. Gazes went from one person to the other, no one able to answer it. "Well, they
are missing out," Greg repeated, moving through the crowd, and back into the party.
* * * * *
Around 11:30 p.m., Grissom heard the rustling of sheets coming from the
bedroom, signaling that Catherine had woken up. Gathering the food he had made for
her, he entered the dimly lit room, and set the tray on the bed.
"You're beautiful when you just wake up," he smiled, kissing the top of her
forehead. It still warm, but looking at her face, he saw that some of the fatigue had
disappeared.
"Grissom," she groaned, "I'm a mess."
"Catherine, you're a beautiful mess. One that needs to eat."
"Not hungry. I'll eat it later. Just stay here for a minute." She replied, burying her
face into his chest. He kicked off his shoes, and gathered her into his arms. Tiny blonde
hairs tickled his nostrils, the sweet smell of her hair overcoming his senses. "Just want
you." Came another reply, through a series of yawns.
Laying his head back against the headboard, he stroked her cheek, stifling his own
small yawn. Glancing downward, he found that she had already returned to her peaceful
slumber. Sick or not, she was lovely when she slept, her blonde hair falling over her face
just so. The lids covering his ocean blue eyes drooped, and he yawned again. Soon he to
was asleep, his arms tightly around her, letting her face haunt his dreams.
Christmas Morning—10:00 a.m.
The shrill tone of the phone had woken her up, hands fumbling for the cordless as
she untangled herself from Grissom's arms. In her, only half awake mind she wondered
who would possibly be calling her at this hour on Christmas. 'Lindsey', she thought, as
she hit the talk button.
"Hello? Willow's residence."
"Ms. Willow's, Dr. Mendel… sorry to wake you on Christmas…I have your test
results back… they all came back negative, no new cancer cells have formed…" A smile
tugged at the corners of her mouth, breaking out into very relieved sigh. "You have the
stomach flu…the fact that your immune system hasn't fully bounced back yet, could
account for the severity of your symptoms…but I still don't want you working at least for
a few days…outside infections can be very serious."
"Thank you…I appreciate you calling so soon."
"Merry Christmas Ms. Willows."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
Hanging up the phone and crawling back under the covers, she let out the first real
breath she'd had, in two whole days. She rolled over onto her stomach, her eyes
connecting with Grissom's, the clear blue of them, shining brightly.
"It was negative."
And his lips met hers, exploring them as if he hadn't felt or tasted them in a
lifetime. Running her fingers through his soft gray curls, she dug her tongue into his
mouth, in a deep, hard passionate kiss. It lasted only a few mere moments as he let up,
and planted a few light kisses along the base of her neck before, finding her lips one last
time.
"Merry Christmas, Catherine." He whispered, her head now on his shoulder. And
for the two them, there was no doubt that it truly was.
The End.
the ride…for this story, and all the others that have been posted for the holiday season.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Allison.
"A Season of Change' Part 5
It was a ten minute drive back to Catherine's house from the school, and she slept
the entire way, relishing in the much needed sleep. She longed for her bed, and soon she
was there, under her covers, bleary-eyed, letting the warmth of the sheets envelop her.
Slowly her eyes closed, and sleep overcame her, as Grissom kissed her cheek, and pushed
her blonde hair behind her ears, before walking out into the kitchen.
His pager was vibrating on the counter, and he picked it up, recognizing at once,
the number of CSI. Grabbing Catherine's phone off the hook, he dialed the number and
waited for someone to pick up.
"Grissom, it's Nick."
"What's up? Something important come up?" he asked, searching for a pot in
Catherine's cupboard.
"Warrick and I were just wondering what was going on with our Christmas
party…it's supposed to start in an hour"
Grissom groaned inwardly, realizing he had forgotten that the party was at his
townhouse, by Catherine's insistence. And she wasn't in any shape to go, or be left alone,
for that matter.
"Nick…I need to speak with Warrick."
"Sure." Confusions was layered thick in the CSI's voice as he handed off the
phone. Footsteps could be heard, and then the exchange was made.
"Hey Gris, it's Warrick."
"Catherine's pretty sick Warrick…she needs someone to stay with her. I'm here
now…you're going to have to have the party somewhere else."
On the other end, Warrick wondered how Grissom could have ended up looking
after the blonde CSI, shrugging off his suspicions, and Sara's conversation from earlier.
'He is a friend', Warrick thought, Catherine must not have had anyone else to call on
Christmas Eve.
"We'll take care of it. Tell Catherine to get well."
"Thanks. I will. Bye."
Clicking off the phone and opening the fridge, he pulled out ingredients and
began to prepare some soup… glad Catherine was able to rest peacefully in the other
room.
* * * * *
"Grissom and Catherine sure are missing one hell of a party," Greg shouted,
downing his third glass of egg nog, some escaping out of the glass and onto his chin.
There was no doubt the young lab technician was enjoying himself.
"I don't think Catherine would be enjoying herself if she was here," Warrick
replied. "You didn't see her last night, she looked awful."
"And Grissom said he is staying with her…I wonder why that is?"
Nicks question voiced the concerns that all the CSI's were thinking at the
moment. Gazes went from one person to the other, no one able to answer it. "Well, they
are missing out," Greg repeated, moving through the crowd, and back into the party.
* * * * *
Around 11:30 p.m., Grissom heard the rustling of sheets coming from the
bedroom, signaling that Catherine had woken up. Gathering the food he had made for
her, he entered the dimly lit room, and set the tray on the bed.
"You're beautiful when you just wake up," he smiled, kissing the top of her
forehead. It still warm, but looking at her face, he saw that some of the fatigue had
disappeared.
"Grissom," she groaned, "I'm a mess."
"Catherine, you're a beautiful mess. One that needs to eat."
"Not hungry. I'll eat it later. Just stay here for a minute." She replied, burying her
face into his chest. He kicked off his shoes, and gathered her into his arms. Tiny blonde
hairs tickled his nostrils, the sweet smell of her hair overcoming his senses. "Just want
you." Came another reply, through a series of yawns.
Laying his head back against the headboard, he stroked her cheek, stifling his own
small yawn. Glancing downward, he found that she had already returned to her peaceful
slumber. Sick or not, she was lovely when she slept, her blonde hair falling over her face
just so. The lids covering his ocean blue eyes drooped, and he yawned again. Soon he to
was asleep, his arms tightly around her, letting her face haunt his dreams.
Christmas Morning—10:00 a.m.
The shrill tone of the phone had woken her up, hands fumbling for the cordless as
she untangled herself from Grissom's arms. In her, only half awake mind she wondered
who would possibly be calling her at this hour on Christmas. 'Lindsey', she thought, as
she hit the talk button.
"Hello? Willow's residence."
"Ms. Willow's, Dr. Mendel… sorry to wake you on Christmas…I have your test
results back… they all came back negative, no new cancer cells have formed…" A smile
tugged at the corners of her mouth, breaking out into very relieved sigh. "You have the
stomach flu…the fact that your immune system hasn't fully bounced back yet, could
account for the severity of your symptoms…but I still don't want you working at least for
a few days…outside infections can be very serious."
"Thank you…I appreciate you calling so soon."
"Merry Christmas Ms. Willows."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
Hanging up the phone and crawling back under the covers, she let out the first real
breath she'd had, in two whole days. She rolled over onto her stomach, her eyes
connecting with Grissom's, the clear blue of them, shining brightly.
"It was negative."
And his lips met hers, exploring them as if he hadn't felt or tasted them in a
lifetime. Running her fingers through his soft gray curls, she dug her tongue into his
mouth, in a deep, hard passionate kiss. It lasted only a few mere moments as he let up,
and planted a few light kisses along the base of her neck before, finding her lips one last
time.
"Merry Christmas, Catherine." He whispered, her head now on his shoulder. And
for the two them, there was no doubt that it truly was.
The End.