Chapter 8
Grissom tossed and turned, twisting his legs in the blanket, in a feeble attempt to get warmth to his feet. He opened his eyes slowly, noticing the darkness filling the room. It was still night...or early morning--he couldn't read his watch, so he didn't have a clue as to which. He stretched lightly, groaning at the pain that shot up his back. The sound of his groan was replaced by Catherine's muffled voice.
"No...no, please...don't...don't hurt...no." Grissom immediately stood up and leaned over the bed. Her face was sunken into the pillows and her body was moving around slightly. She was speaking so quietly that, if he wasn't already awake, he probably wouldn't have heard her. But, he could hear her, and whatever she was experiencing in her sleep state, obviously, wasn't pleasant.
He touched her shoulder lightly, attempting to rouse her from her sleep without startling her. "Catherine? Cat..wake up."
"No..don't touch me." Her form quickly shot to the other side of the bed, away from his grasp. The coherent speech had subsided, but her breathing was still ragged as small noises emitted from her mouth.
"Catherine...it's me. It's Grissom." He placed his knee upon the mattress and pulled himself onto the side of the bed recently vacated by Catherine. Her warmth could still be felt--for a brief instant, he noted how stark of a contrast it was to the chill in the room. That idle thought was replaced by the sudden fear that, perhaps, it was him that she was afraid of. After all, he was a jerk last night. He knew he was--but he didn't apologize. ~God, she doesn't really think I would hurt her, does she? I would never hurt her--she has to know that. I would give my life to assure that she doesn't feel pain.~
"Gris...Grissom?" The sleepiness in her voice was evident. Her eyes were still closed, but her breathing had calmed considerably.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me." He kept his voice at a whisper.
"Hold me."
~Hold her? She wants me to hold her? That means she still trusts me, doesn't it? God, I hope that's what it means. I can hold her--I can do that. I must do that--I must be there for her...~
Grissom reached up to her shoulder and grazed his fingers along the material of her t-shirt. He then moved down the length of her arm and under the covers until he reached her hand. He squeezed gently and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Anything for you, Catherine...anything," he whispered to her sleeping form.
He pulled back momentarily and positioned his body underneath the covers. When his cold body met her warmer one, she shifted in her sleep, effectively placing herself in his arms, grabbing ahold of his shirt. Feeling the weight of her body falling upon his, he let out a heavy sigh. He reminded himself that this was for her, not himself. For minutes on end, his hands continuously rubbed up and down her back, ensuring that she was kept warm. Simply watching her kept him content, and, soon, he was lulled to sleep by the breaths of the beauty in his arms.
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Catherine attempted to shift in her sleep, but wasn't quite able to move efficiently. She, opened her eyes a bit and was assulted by the sun's glare coming through the window. A smile crossed her face--never before could she remember being so happy to see natural light. Her thoughts quickly drifted to whatever her body was entangled in. Looking down, she was surprised to see an arm draped across her waist. Not just any arm...Grissom's arm. And she could feel his body pressed up against her back and his breaths against her ear. She spend a few long moments wondering how they ended up in this position. The last thing she clearly remembered was him insisting, angrily, that he was going to sleep on the floor. She began to vaguely recall an unpleasant dream from earlier in the evening and then him crawling into bed with her. Comforting words and actions that came from the man holding her engulfed her thoughts. Clearly, that had to have been part of the dream, too..right? But, if that were the case, what else could have brought him up to the bed last night? ~It was cold, Catherine--get a grip. He was probably just cold.~ Her mind chose to believe that, but her heart just wouldn't accept it. The body lying against her felt too good for her heart to believe that it was there only due to necessity for warmth. Either way, she would find out..she would make it her mission..
Catherine turned gently in his arms, until they were face to face. She smiled at the sight of him in a peaceful slumber. Her hand, with a mind of its own, reached up to his face, caressing the rough stubble that was starting to form there. She moved her fingers upwards, allowing them to dance in the light curls just above his ear. Her eyes traveled down his covered body and watched the blankets move as her foot traced across his calf. When her eyes traveled back upwards, she almost jumped at the sight of his blue orbs staring at her. Embarrassed by her actions, she attempted to pull away from him. However, his hand on her back tightened its grip and forced her to stay fixed up against him. "Good morning," he whispered with a crooked smile.
"Hi." She wanted to bury her head back into the pillows, but she knew it was too late to pretend that she was asleep.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Um...not long, actually. Just a few minutes. I'm sorry I woke you up." She began to wonder exactly how red her face was.
"That's okay. Are you feeling better this morning?"
"Better?" This was the chance she had been waiting for...
"Yeah. You were having some sort of dream last night--you seemed a bit upset. You don't remember?"
"Vaguely." She smiled at him. "I was kind of wondering about this..." Her hands gestured to the two of them so close together. "...I was actually thinking that maybe you got cold."
"No. Well, yeah, it was cold. But, you...um, asked me to hold you--so I did." His voice was wavering a bit, and his mind was starting to wonder if she believed him.
"I don't remember very much. I know I had a bad dream about the murders here. I'm not sure about much else."
"Oh. I'm sorry." He started to pull his arm away, but before he could remove it completely she grabbed his hand and held it to her hip.
"You know, Grissom, you apologize an awful lot for someone who hasn't done anything wrong."
"I'm sorry." He gave a small chuckle, which she returned. A hint of seriousness swept back through him as he began to speak again. "I am sorry about snapping at you last night, though. My behavior was uncalled for. I was just...~tell her~...well, I...~tell her~...I was feeling...~NO!~....I don't know, really. I guess I was just tired. But, I am sorry--I just wanted you to know that." ~You idiot.~
"It's okay. I've seen you cranky before. I just usually know what's wrong- -and last night you weren't willing to explain anything--I was just worried that maybe I had upset---"
"No. No, it wasn't anything you did, Cat. It's me."
"Hey, I wonder if we've got power yet?" It was time for a change of conversation. She wasn't getting anywhere with this one..he just seemed antsy and ashamed of something...and she wasn't ready for him to retreat back into his shell just yet.
"I sure as hell hope so. I'll check." Pushing the covers partially off of himself, he stretched to the other side of the bed and flicked the switch on the lamp. "Nothing." He waited for a verbal reaction from her, and when he didn't receive one he settled back onto the bed and turned to face her---she was grinning widely. "I said that there's still no power, Cat." He was confused by her amusement.
"I know. I heard you." Her eyes traveled down to his waist and she giggled. "I can't believe you wear those."
A flush rose to his face as he looked down at his boxers, black, adorned with little red ladybugs. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I just never imagined that you would. I remember, it was the night before your birthday and Lindsey wanted to pick you out something herself--she saved her allowance money up for you a birthday present. I told her that I would just put her name along with mine on the watch I bought you, but she wouldn't hear to it. So, we go shopping and she sees these boxer shorts and HAS to have them. I tried everything in my power to get her to pick out something else--a shirt, a tie--anything. But, she wouldn't budge. She said that you would love them. So, we bought all three pairs-- butterflies, ladybugs, and beetles. Never in a million years did I think you would actually wear them." Her head was thrown back in laughter, as she wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing. "They look cute on you, Gil."
"Thanks, Cat. Your sincerity moves me."
"I'm not kidding. Not many men could pull that look off." She allowed her fingers to graze the waistband of his boxers. "You manage well."
"Well, I'm glad that you feel that I can retain my masculinity amongst the insects."
She laughed again and rose from the bed, stretching her arms and twisting her neck. She grabbed a few items of clothing and a toothbrush from her suitcase and headed towards the bathroom. Before entering, she turned back towards the bed and smiled. "Just for the record, Grissom...your masculinity has never been in question..."
TBC. Guess what? You know it's coming---all together now: "Still no plot." The good news is that I actually have ideas concerning the plot now. YAY! And, I still have a lot of G/C ideas up my sleeve. For me, that's the best of both worlds. Thanks again for the awesome reviews. Until next time...
Grissom tossed and turned, twisting his legs in the blanket, in a feeble attempt to get warmth to his feet. He opened his eyes slowly, noticing the darkness filling the room. It was still night...or early morning--he couldn't read his watch, so he didn't have a clue as to which. He stretched lightly, groaning at the pain that shot up his back. The sound of his groan was replaced by Catherine's muffled voice.
"No...no, please...don't...don't hurt...no." Grissom immediately stood up and leaned over the bed. Her face was sunken into the pillows and her body was moving around slightly. She was speaking so quietly that, if he wasn't already awake, he probably wouldn't have heard her. But, he could hear her, and whatever she was experiencing in her sleep state, obviously, wasn't pleasant.
He touched her shoulder lightly, attempting to rouse her from her sleep without startling her. "Catherine? Cat..wake up."
"No..don't touch me." Her form quickly shot to the other side of the bed, away from his grasp. The coherent speech had subsided, but her breathing was still ragged as small noises emitted from her mouth.
"Catherine...it's me. It's Grissom." He placed his knee upon the mattress and pulled himself onto the side of the bed recently vacated by Catherine. Her warmth could still be felt--for a brief instant, he noted how stark of a contrast it was to the chill in the room. That idle thought was replaced by the sudden fear that, perhaps, it was him that she was afraid of. After all, he was a jerk last night. He knew he was--but he didn't apologize. ~God, she doesn't really think I would hurt her, does she? I would never hurt her--she has to know that. I would give my life to assure that she doesn't feel pain.~
"Gris...Grissom?" The sleepiness in her voice was evident. Her eyes were still closed, but her breathing had calmed considerably.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me." He kept his voice at a whisper.
"Hold me."
~Hold her? She wants me to hold her? That means she still trusts me, doesn't it? God, I hope that's what it means. I can hold her--I can do that. I must do that--I must be there for her...~
Grissom reached up to her shoulder and grazed his fingers along the material of her t-shirt. He then moved down the length of her arm and under the covers until he reached her hand. He squeezed gently and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Anything for you, Catherine...anything," he whispered to her sleeping form.
He pulled back momentarily and positioned his body underneath the covers. When his cold body met her warmer one, she shifted in her sleep, effectively placing herself in his arms, grabbing ahold of his shirt. Feeling the weight of her body falling upon his, he let out a heavy sigh. He reminded himself that this was for her, not himself. For minutes on end, his hands continuously rubbed up and down her back, ensuring that she was kept warm. Simply watching her kept him content, and, soon, he was lulled to sleep by the breaths of the beauty in his arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine attempted to shift in her sleep, but wasn't quite able to move efficiently. She, opened her eyes a bit and was assulted by the sun's glare coming through the window. A smile crossed her face--never before could she remember being so happy to see natural light. Her thoughts quickly drifted to whatever her body was entangled in. Looking down, she was surprised to see an arm draped across her waist. Not just any arm...Grissom's arm. And she could feel his body pressed up against her back and his breaths against her ear. She spend a few long moments wondering how they ended up in this position. The last thing she clearly remembered was him insisting, angrily, that he was going to sleep on the floor. She began to vaguely recall an unpleasant dream from earlier in the evening and then him crawling into bed with her. Comforting words and actions that came from the man holding her engulfed her thoughts. Clearly, that had to have been part of the dream, too..right? But, if that were the case, what else could have brought him up to the bed last night? ~It was cold, Catherine--get a grip. He was probably just cold.~ Her mind chose to believe that, but her heart just wouldn't accept it. The body lying against her felt too good for her heart to believe that it was there only due to necessity for warmth. Either way, she would find out..she would make it her mission..
Catherine turned gently in his arms, until they were face to face. She smiled at the sight of him in a peaceful slumber. Her hand, with a mind of its own, reached up to his face, caressing the rough stubble that was starting to form there. She moved her fingers upwards, allowing them to dance in the light curls just above his ear. Her eyes traveled down his covered body and watched the blankets move as her foot traced across his calf. When her eyes traveled back upwards, she almost jumped at the sight of his blue orbs staring at her. Embarrassed by her actions, she attempted to pull away from him. However, his hand on her back tightened its grip and forced her to stay fixed up against him. "Good morning," he whispered with a crooked smile.
"Hi." She wanted to bury her head back into the pillows, but she knew it was too late to pretend that she was asleep.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Um...not long, actually. Just a few minutes. I'm sorry I woke you up." She began to wonder exactly how red her face was.
"That's okay. Are you feeling better this morning?"
"Better?" This was the chance she had been waiting for...
"Yeah. You were having some sort of dream last night--you seemed a bit upset. You don't remember?"
"Vaguely." She smiled at him. "I was kind of wondering about this..." Her hands gestured to the two of them so close together. "...I was actually thinking that maybe you got cold."
"No. Well, yeah, it was cold. But, you...um, asked me to hold you--so I did." His voice was wavering a bit, and his mind was starting to wonder if she believed him.
"I don't remember very much. I know I had a bad dream about the murders here. I'm not sure about much else."
"Oh. I'm sorry." He started to pull his arm away, but before he could remove it completely she grabbed his hand and held it to her hip.
"You know, Grissom, you apologize an awful lot for someone who hasn't done anything wrong."
"I'm sorry." He gave a small chuckle, which she returned. A hint of seriousness swept back through him as he began to speak again. "I am sorry about snapping at you last night, though. My behavior was uncalled for. I was just...~tell her~...well, I...~tell her~...I was feeling...~NO!~....I don't know, really. I guess I was just tired. But, I am sorry--I just wanted you to know that." ~You idiot.~
"It's okay. I've seen you cranky before. I just usually know what's wrong- -and last night you weren't willing to explain anything--I was just worried that maybe I had upset---"
"No. No, it wasn't anything you did, Cat. It's me."
"Hey, I wonder if we've got power yet?" It was time for a change of conversation. She wasn't getting anywhere with this one..he just seemed antsy and ashamed of something...and she wasn't ready for him to retreat back into his shell just yet.
"I sure as hell hope so. I'll check." Pushing the covers partially off of himself, he stretched to the other side of the bed and flicked the switch on the lamp. "Nothing." He waited for a verbal reaction from her, and when he didn't receive one he settled back onto the bed and turned to face her---she was grinning widely. "I said that there's still no power, Cat." He was confused by her amusement.
"I know. I heard you." Her eyes traveled down to his waist and she giggled. "I can't believe you wear those."
A flush rose to his face as he looked down at his boxers, black, adorned with little red ladybugs. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I just never imagined that you would. I remember, it was the night before your birthday and Lindsey wanted to pick you out something herself--she saved her allowance money up for you a birthday present. I told her that I would just put her name along with mine on the watch I bought you, but she wouldn't hear to it. So, we go shopping and she sees these boxer shorts and HAS to have them. I tried everything in my power to get her to pick out something else--a shirt, a tie--anything. But, she wouldn't budge. She said that you would love them. So, we bought all three pairs-- butterflies, ladybugs, and beetles. Never in a million years did I think you would actually wear them." Her head was thrown back in laughter, as she wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing. "They look cute on you, Gil."
"Thanks, Cat. Your sincerity moves me."
"I'm not kidding. Not many men could pull that look off." She allowed her fingers to graze the waistband of his boxers. "You manage well."
"Well, I'm glad that you feel that I can retain my masculinity amongst the insects."
She laughed again and rose from the bed, stretching her arms and twisting her neck. She grabbed a few items of clothing and a toothbrush from her suitcase and headed towards the bathroom. Before entering, she turned back towards the bed and smiled. "Just for the record, Grissom...your masculinity has never been in question..."
TBC. Guess what? You know it's coming---all together now: "Still no plot." The good news is that I actually have ideas concerning the plot now. YAY! And, I still have a lot of G/C ideas up my sleeve. For me, that's the best of both worlds. Thanks again for the awesome reviews. Until next time...