*Title: Don't give up on me
*Disclaimer: they're not mine, none of them are. They belong to CBS etc.
*Author's Notes: A 'lighter' sort of POV this time, Catherine! Was inspired to include Ecklie into this chapter thanks to Juliet's fic ' Waiting'. :)
*Thank you: Graveyard shift Groupies. I write because of you and...well..WE & G/C RULE!
I stare into my bowl of chicken soup. The break room is deserted. Nick, Sara and Warrick are working on a case. Me and Grissom are just finishing up on ours. It was a tough one. A woman set her own house in fire. Motive? Revenge. Victims? Three of their four children were trapped inside of their own rooms because of flames. The case has left me tired and depressed. Grissom thought soup and some quiet time would do the trick. It's not working.
I hear footsteps out in the hall. Clearly male. Maybe Grissom or Greg. Or even Robbins. Then again, he doesn't show his face much around here. Whoever it is, hopefully they'll just leave me here, alone. I'm tired.
Oh god, no. It's him.
He's getting closer.
He has noticed me, I can tell. He tried to make eye contact.
Maybe If I just close my eyes and count to ten, he'll go away. Please, leave me alone.
1...2...3...
"Catherine?"
Ignore him. 4.....5...6..
"Catherine?"
Shut up and go away. 7...8...9..
"WILLOWS?!"
..10..
I open my eyes. Obviously, it didn't work. He's still here, standing less than two feet away from me. Staring at me as if I'm crazy.
"What do you want, Ecklie?" I reply slowly, but annoyed.
"There you are" He replies in his slimy voice and with that horrible sly grin of his, waving a hand in front of me to catch my attention. "For a minute there I thought you'd gone back to using your..er....'old habbit'"
I'm too tired for a verbal fight. No smart comments spring to mind. Just when I need them the most. I know what he's implying, I just don't give a damn. Let him think that I'm on cocaine again. Who cares.
"I'll ask you again: What do you want Ecklie?"
He grins, probably noticing my very obvious fatigue and lack of a good reply. He pulls up a chair. Great.
I'm suddenly no longer hungry and shove the bowl of soup aside.
"Before I start explaining my visit..it's Conrad"
"Listen. We have never been and will never be on a first name basis, Ecklie"
Ah. Good one. Didn't see that one coming. Neither did he.
He looks a little uneasy because of my sudden hostility, taken aback even. I can tell because he's moving around in his seat but all the while keeping that god-awful grin on his face. He's looking for a good reply, but has none.
Ecklie scrapes his throat. "Anyway, now that we're on the same....level, professionally that is, I want to establish a good working relationship. Set some rules etc."
What the hell is he talking about ? "What the hell are you talking about?"
That sly smile again. " Well, everyone here now knows about Grissom's.hearing problem and it'd be only fair if you were the next in line for his position. As supervisor of the Nightshift. It's either you or Warrick. And since Warrick is younger, has a gambling issue and isn't as experienced as you. I'm betting it will be you."
I feel the anger boiling up inside of me. Somehow, right now, I'm regaining all the energy I put into the case. What is trying to do besides insulting Warrick and Grissom who just happen to be two of my best friends? Grissom isn't resigning. No-one has even talked about him leaving.
He's not leaving. He isn't. Over my dead body.
I'll reply as calmly as I can. I won't let him get the best of me. Can't show him how angry and upset I'm getting.
"Grissom isn't going anywhere, Ecklie" That sounded more like an angry growl than a cool reply.
"Catherine, be real. The man is losing his hearing. Soon, he'll be...disabled or whatever. You need your hearing as a csi. A Crime Scene Investigator and a supervisor without his hearing is.....deficient."
That does it.
I open my mouth, ready to call him whatever comes to mind, ready to come to Grissom's defence with all I've got, more than ready to throw that bowl of hot soup in his face, when I notice someone standing in the doorway.
"...Gil?" I whisper.
Ecklie turns around, equally shocked. He flushes a little, noticing Gil's painful expression.
He looks hurt. Gil looks..so....hurt. Yet, he just stands there. In complete silence. Why doesn't he say something? Why doesn't he tell Ecklie to get lost. Why is he just standing there?
Ecklie looks from Grissom to me. I ignore him, focussing my eyes on Gil alone. I wish he'd look my way.
"Grissom! What's with the grave look. You look like you just swallowed one of your bugs"
Ecklie's poor attempt at cracking a joke, he's trying to lighten the mood. For that comment I reward him with an icy cold glare.
"Get out" I hiss at him.
He pulls up his eyebrows, stands up and quickly leaves the room, tail between his legs. Like the rat he is.
I, too, stand up.
"Gil, you're not"
His glazy blue eyes finally look at me now. "I'm not what, Catherine?"
"Deficient" I answer. "You're not."
He shakes his head, defeated. "No. He's right. I have to leave. "
I was ready to fight for him. But...he has already given up.
~ I wish you well and so I take my leave,
I Pray you know me when we meet again. ~
- - William Shakespeare
*Disclaimer: they're not mine, none of them are. They belong to CBS etc.
*Author's Notes: A 'lighter' sort of POV this time, Catherine! Was inspired to include Ecklie into this chapter thanks to Juliet's fic ' Waiting'. :)
*Thank you: Graveyard shift Groupies. I write because of you and...well..WE & G/C RULE!
I stare into my bowl of chicken soup. The break room is deserted. Nick, Sara and Warrick are working on a case. Me and Grissom are just finishing up on ours. It was a tough one. A woman set her own house in fire. Motive? Revenge. Victims? Three of their four children were trapped inside of their own rooms because of flames. The case has left me tired and depressed. Grissom thought soup and some quiet time would do the trick. It's not working.
I hear footsteps out in the hall. Clearly male. Maybe Grissom or Greg. Or even Robbins. Then again, he doesn't show his face much around here. Whoever it is, hopefully they'll just leave me here, alone. I'm tired.
Oh god, no. It's him.
He's getting closer.
He has noticed me, I can tell. He tried to make eye contact.
Maybe If I just close my eyes and count to ten, he'll go away. Please, leave me alone.
1...2...3...
"Catherine?"
Ignore him. 4.....5...6..
"Catherine?"
Shut up and go away. 7...8...9..
"WILLOWS?!"
..10..
I open my eyes. Obviously, it didn't work. He's still here, standing less than two feet away from me. Staring at me as if I'm crazy.
"What do you want, Ecklie?" I reply slowly, but annoyed.
"There you are" He replies in his slimy voice and with that horrible sly grin of his, waving a hand in front of me to catch my attention. "For a minute there I thought you'd gone back to using your..er....'old habbit'"
I'm too tired for a verbal fight. No smart comments spring to mind. Just when I need them the most. I know what he's implying, I just don't give a damn. Let him think that I'm on cocaine again. Who cares.
"I'll ask you again: What do you want Ecklie?"
He grins, probably noticing my very obvious fatigue and lack of a good reply. He pulls up a chair. Great.
I'm suddenly no longer hungry and shove the bowl of soup aside.
"Before I start explaining my visit..it's Conrad"
"Listen. We have never been and will never be on a first name basis, Ecklie"
Ah. Good one. Didn't see that one coming. Neither did he.
He looks a little uneasy because of my sudden hostility, taken aback even. I can tell because he's moving around in his seat but all the while keeping that god-awful grin on his face. He's looking for a good reply, but has none.
Ecklie scrapes his throat. "Anyway, now that we're on the same....level, professionally that is, I want to establish a good working relationship. Set some rules etc."
What the hell is he talking about ? "What the hell are you talking about?"
That sly smile again. " Well, everyone here now knows about Grissom's.hearing problem and it'd be only fair if you were the next in line for his position. As supervisor of the Nightshift. It's either you or Warrick. And since Warrick is younger, has a gambling issue and isn't as experienced as you. I'm betting it will be you."
I feel the anger boiling up inside of me. Somehow, right now, I'm regaining all the energy I put into the case. What is trying to do besides insulting Warrick and Grissom who just happen to be two of my best friends? Grissom isn't resigning. No-one has even talked about him leaving.
He's not leaving. He isn't. Over my dead body.
I'll reply as calmly as I can. I won't let him get the best of me. Can't show him how angry and upset I'm getting.
"Grissom isn't going anywhere, Ecklie" That sounded more like an angry growl than a cool reply.
"Catherine, be real. The man is losing his hearing. Soon, he'll be...disabled or whatever. You need your hearing as a csi. A Crime Scene Investigator and a supervisor without his hearing is.....deficient."
That does it.
I open my mouth, ready to call him whatever comes to mind, ready to come to Grissom's defence with all I've got, more than ready to throw that bowl of hot soup in his face, when I notice someone standing in the doorway.
"...Gil?" I whisper.
Ecklie turns around, equally shocked. He flushes a little, noticing Gil's painful expression.
He looks hurt. Gil looks..so....hurt. Yet, he just stands there. In complete silence. Why doesn't he say something? Why doesn't he tell Ecklie to get lost. Why is he just standing there?
Ecklie looks from Grissom to me. I ignore him, focussing my eyes on Gil alone. I wish he'd look my way.
"Grissom! What's with the grave look. You look like you just swallowed one of your bugs"
Ecklie's poor attempt at cracking a joke, he's trying to lighten the mood. For that comment I reward him with an icy cold glare.
"Get out" I hiss at him.
He pulls up his eyebrows, stands up and quickly leaves the room, tail between his legs. Like the rat he is.
I, too, stand up.
"Gil, you're not"
His glazy blue eyes finally look at me now. "I'm not what, Catherine?"
"Deficient" I answer. "You're not."
He shakes his head, defeated. "No. He's right. I have to leave. "
I was ready to fight for him. But...he has already given up.
~ I wish you well and so I take my leave,
I Pray you know me when we meet again. ~
- - William Shakespeare