Chapter 2
"Wow, this is beautiful." Catherine had stepped inside of the small room, holding the door open, waiting for Grissom to enter. He walked in, and, after he placed the bags on the floor, joined her in surveying the room.
"Yes...very nice.." Despite the natural investigator in him, Grissom never considered himself a man who would normally pay particular attention the décor of a room. This, however, was an exception. Even he would have to admit that the picturesque view now revealed to him was breath-taking.
It was small and simple, but oh-so-elegant. The center of the room housed a large canopy bed, it's satin and lace drapery pulled back to reveal very inviting quarters. A snow white comforter, smothered by pastel overstuffed pillows, encompassed the bed. Vases filled with fresh flowers were scattered about the room, their scent lingering in the air. They provided a comforting contrast to the deadness of winter outside. A dim light on the bedside table was lit, but the majority of the room's illumination came from the many candles that flickered about. In the far corner of the room, a large, old fashioned free-standing bathtub stood on it's claw-shaped legs. A shower curtain, matching the material from the bed's canopy, hung suspended from the ceiling and circled around the tub, providing a small bit of modesty in the room's openness. There were two doors against the wall beside the fixture. Gil had yet to investigate them, but assumed that they probably led to the restroom and a closet of some sort.
Noticing movement out the corner of his eye, he paused his evaluation of the room and moved his gaze to Catherine. She had taken off her coat and was in the process of crawling onto the large bed. Stretching to open the drawer of the bedside table, she withdrew a phone book, a Bible, and a few pieces of paper, probably giving information about the hotel and other local places of interest. As Grissom watched her body relax into the comforting embrace of the bed, he thought of what it would feel like to join her there, letting his body press gently against her own. Before mentally chastising himself for his outlandish fantasies, he took the time to realize that before the night was over, he may, in fact, join her in that bed. ~One man..one woman..one room..one bed. Should I offer to sleep on the floor? How do I even broach that subject?~
"Hey Gil?" She had dropped the papers she was glancing over and was staring at him now, propped up on her elbow, head in hand. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"Um, nothing much." He changed the subject quickly. "Have you found anything interesting over there?"
"I don't think so. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for. Help me look?" She scooted over on the bed, leaving room for him, and patted the now empty spot beside her.
Grissom stood firmly in his spot across the room for a slight moment, just looking at her. Without conscious thought, his feet picked themselves up and were moving towards the bed. And again, before his mind could protest, his body had placed itself against the backboard of the bed, next her. As the bed adjusted to the new weight upon it, Catherine's form slid closer to Grissom's, her hip pressing firmly to his. She placed half of the brochures and other papers on his lap and continued flipping through a few others.
A little over an hour had passed since they had began going over the materials with a fine-toothed comb, hoping to find something that may pertain to the case. Grissom now had the entire case file he had brought from Las Vegas sprawled out on the bed. He and Catherine were comparing the victim's names and crime scenes--trying to find the link that they knew had to be there. That was the problem, though--everyone was linked. In a town this small, everyone knew everyone else--they ate at the same restaurants, shopped at the same stores, and prayed in the same chapel. Somewhere along the line, that would have to be the key to catching whoever is responsible for this. Someone in this town knew something--that was inevitable. Now they just had to find out 'who'... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been fifteen minutes since Catherine had fell asleep on Grissom's stomach. She had been quiet for a while, and he just figured that she was deep in thought. And when she leaned over him, he only thought she was grabbing for a sheet of paper. It was when her head didn't raise back up, but instead buried itself into the material of his shirt below his chest, that he drew in a sharp breath. He watched her for a few moments, trying to mirror his own irratic breathing to the slow and steady rise and fall of her back. Careful not to wake her, he gently stroked her hair, loving the feel of it underneath his fingertips. He reveled in being able to touch her, knowing that if she were awake he wouldn't have the courage--or, perhaps, she wouldn't have allowed it. With that last thought, he removed his hand from her tresses, feeling guilty for allowing himself to indulge in his overwhelming desire to touch her. He pulled his glasses off and set them on the table, proceeding to rub the strain from his eyes. Soon after he leaned his head back, the need for sleep overtook him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine yawned and stretched slowly, suddenly startled by the warm body underneath her. She felt a twinge of embarassment, realizing that she must have fallen asleep on Grissom. She pulled herself up a bit to look into his eyes, but saw that they were hidden underneath of his closed lids. His breathing was steady underneath her and he had a look of pure innocence across his features. Pulling herself up a bit, she laid her head down on his chest and listened to his heart beat rhythmically in her ear. He shifted slighly in his sleep and pulled her closer to him, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. Catherine let out a sigh of contentment, wishing for the moment to never end--wishing that he would forever capture her in his embrace. She looked at the rings that were now gracing her finger and smiled at the irony of the situation. The last time she wore a ring on that finger was when she was married to Eddie--there wasn't much love or sentiment to it--just the next logical step in their relationship. And now she wore a symbol of love again and, although she wasn't actually married to this man beneath her, the love she felt for him was one of the most powerful emotions that she had ever experienced. Yet, he had no clue. Such an oddly twisted reality. She felt her throat catch and didn't know if she was trying to suppress a laugh or a sob...
"Wow, this is beautiful." Catherine had stepped inside of the small room, holding the door open, waiting for Grissom to enter. He walked in, and, after he placed the bags on the floor, joined her in surveying the room.
"Yes...very nice.." Despite the natural investigator in him, Grissom never considered himself a man who would normally pay particular attention the décor of a room. This, however, was an exception. Even he would have to admit that the picturesque view now revealed to him was breath-taking.
It was small and simple, but oh-so-elegant. The center of the room housed a large canopy bed, it's satin and lace drapery pulled back to reveal very inviting quarters. A snow white comforter, smothered by pastel overstuffed pillows, encompassed the bed. Vases filled with fresh flowers were scattered about the room, their scent lingering in the air. They provided a comforting contrast to the deadness of winter outside. A dim light on the bedside table was lit, but the majority of the room's illumination came from the many candles that flickered about. In the far corner of the room, a large, old fashioned free-standing bathtub stood on it's claw-shaped legs. A shower curtain, matching the material from the bed's canopy, hung suspended from the ceiling and circled around the tub, providing a small bit of modesty in the room's openness. There were two doors against the wall beside the fixture. Gil had yet to investigate them, but assumed that they probably led to the restroom and a closet of some sort.
Noticing movement out the corner of his eye, he paused his evaluation of the room and moved his gaze to Catherine. She had taken off her coat and was in the process of crawling onto the large bed. Stretching to open the drawer of the bedside table, she withdrew a phone book, a Bible, and a few pieces of paper, probably giving information about the hotel and other local places of interest. As Grissom watched her body relax into the comforting embrace of the bed, he thought of what it would feel like to join her there, letting his body press gently against her own. Before mentally chastising himself for his outlandish fantasies, he took the time to realize that before the night was over, he may, in fact, join her in that bed. ~One man..one woman..one room..one bed. Should I offer to sleep on the floor? How do I even broach that subject?~
"Hey Gil?" She had dropped the papers she was glancing over and was staring at him now, propped up on her elbow, head in hand. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"Um, nothing much." He changed the subject quickly. "Have you found anything interesting over there?"
"I don't think so. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for. Help me look?" She scooted over on the bed, leaving room for him, and patted the now empty spot beside her.
Grissom stood firmly in his spot across the room for a slight moment, just looking at her. Without conscious thought, his feet picked themselves up and were moving towards the bed. And again, before his mind could protest, his body had placed itself against the backboard of the bed, next her. As the bed adjusted to the new weight upon it, Catherine's form slid closer to Grissom's, her hip pressing firmly to his. She placed half of the brochures and other papers on his lap and continued flipping through a few others.
A little over an hour had passed since they had began going over the materials with a fine-toothed comb, hoping to find something that may pertain to the case. Grissom now had the entire case file he had brought from Las Vegas sprawled out on the bed. He and Catherine were comparing the victim's names and crime scenes--trying to find the link that they knew had to be there. That was the problem, though--everyone was linked. In a town this small, everyone knew everyone else--they ate at the same restaurants, shopped at the same stores, and prayed in the same chapel. Somewhere along the line, that would have to be the key to catching whoever is responsible for this. Someone in this town knew something--that was inevitable. Now they just had to find out 'who'... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been fifteen minutes since Catherine had fell asleep on Grissom's stomach. She had been quiet for a while, and he just figured that she was deep in thought. And when she leaned over him, he only thought she was grabbing for a sheet of paper. It was when her head didn't raise back up, but instead buried itself into the material of his shirt below his chest, that he drew in a sharp breath. He watched her for a few moments, trying to mirror his own irratic breathing to the slow and steady rise and fall of her back. Careful not to wake her, he gently stroked her hair, loving the feel of it underneath his fingertips. He reveled in being able to touch her, knowing that if she were awake he wouldn't have the courage--or, perhaps, she wouldn't have allowed it. With that last thought, he removed his hand from her tresses, feeling guilty for allowing himself to indulge in his overwhelming desire to touch her. He pulled his glasses off and set them on the table, proceeding to rub the strain from his eyes. Soon after he leaned his head back, the need for sleep overtook him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine yawned and stretched slowly, suddenly startled by the warm body underneath her. She felt a twinge of embarassment, realizing that she must have fallen asleep on Grissom. She pulled herself up a bit to look into his eyes, but saw that they were hidden underneath of his closed lids. His breathing was steady underneath her and he had a look of pure innocence across his features. Pulling herself up a bit, she laid her head down on his chest and listened to his heart beat rhythmically in her ear. He shifted slighly in his sleep and pulled her closer to him, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. Catherine let out a sigh of contentment, wishing for the moment to never end--wishing that he would forever capture her in his embrace. She looked at the rings that were now gracing her finger and smiled at the irony of the situation. The last time she wore a ring on that finger was when she was married to Eddie--there wasn't much love or sentiment to it--just the next logical step in their relationship. And now she wore a symbol of love again and, although she wasn't actually married to this man beneath her, the love she felt for him was one of the most powerful emotions that she had ever experienced. Yet, he had no clue. Such an oddly twisted reality. She felt her throat catch and didn't know if she was trying to suppress a laugh or a sob...