Chapter 10
Catherine glanced over at Grissom, who was keeping his focus on the road. "You know Gris, you still haven't told me where we're going?"
"You'll find out soon."
"Are we lost?"
He laughed a bit and shot his eyes in her direction. "No."
" How do you know where you're going? Do you live a secret life here?"
"Yes. The wife and kids miss me when I'm in Vegas." He gave her a small wink.
It was her turn to laugh as she smacked him on the leg. "Don't even joke about that. It's scary!"
"What is?" He smiled at her briefly before looking back at the road.
"Just thinking of you leading a double life and the whole 'Hi honey, I'm home' persona. It's hard to visualize. Funny..but hard."
"So, you don't think I'd make a good husband?" His mouth was still turned upwards in a smile, but something in his eyes added a twinge of sadness to his countenance.
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah...I think you did." He chuckled again before turning down a side street. "But, you're right, though...I'd make a lousy husband."
She reached her hand over, letting her fingertips graze his knee. "No, Gil. I lived with a 'lousy husband' for years. You don't have that in you. Hell, I've only pretended to be married to you for a day..." A sparkling smile crossed her features. ".. and I think you're doing a damn fine job."
"Thanks." He averted his gaze to her hand, now resting on his knee, and blushed slightly. "But, I'm not so sure being compared to Eddie gives me peace of mind, Cat."
"I'm not comparing you to Eddie, Grissom. I'm comparing Eddie to you. I always have.." ~Shut up, Catherine. God, just blurt it all out--you're on a roll..~ As the heat rose to her face, she pulled her hand from his leg and turned to face the window, feigning interest in her surroundings.
Grissom's eyes widened at her last statement. His mind was so caught up in reeling from the possible implications of her words, when he almost missed the turn-in to his destination. He quickly turned the wheel to the left and felt the car jump into the gravel that filled the small parking lot. "Um...I think we're here."
Catherine looked up and read the small lettering on the window. UNION TOWNSHIP GAZETTE.
"The local newspaper?" She still wasn't facing him--her eyes were busy scanning the worn-down building.
"Yeah. We'll get copies of the past few weeks' papers and see if we can find any information on the victims that we haven't been privy to as of yet."
She looked in his direction, mocking him with her squinted eyes. "Um, Gris. Haven't you heard the saying 'don't believe everything you read'? Especially in the newspapers--they have a way of twisting information to suit whatever biased opinion they've chosen to take."
"Very true. But, sometimes newspapers tend to obtain the unobtainable." He smiled, pleased with his defense. He saw the hesitant look in her eyes, so he continued. "Trust me, Cath, I wouldn't readily turn to the 'Las Vegas Sun' for case information on a case. But, this is a small town--the glitz and glamour aren't needed. The information these newspapers present might be just as helpful as interviewing people--which, unfortunately, we aren't able to do at this time. Besides, that tabloid of Greg's helped convict Haviland...remember?"
"Yeah, how could I forget? Do you make it your mission in life to be right all of the time, Gris?"
"How'd you guess?" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "You got me figured out, do you?"
"I'm getting there." Catherine stared straight into his eyes. She knew she was getting close to figuring out the enigma that was Gil Grissom. They had always been close, but this trip was providing her with a side of Grissom that she had never seen..a side that she ached to see more of. The one thing that she couldn't place, however, is WHAT exactly, has prompted this beautiful change in him..
He smiled after becoming a bit too comfortable in their eye contact. He shifted a bit and manuvered himself out of the seat belt. When he reached for the door handle, she quickly grabbed his arm and looked at him questioningly. "What are you doing?"
"Um..didn't we just talk about this?" He gestured to the building. "Or did I imagine that?"
"Gil, are you just going to walk in there and politely ask for the last several weeks worth of newspapers? Don't you think that might raise an eyebrow or two? Do you have a plan?"
"No." He said it simply--there was no need to pretend that he had, actually, thought about what reasons he might give. A bit embarassed that he had left out such a major detail while enthralled in his excitement, he frowned and asked Catherine if she had any ideas.
"Actually, I do. You stay here. I just hope I've still got it in me..." She winked at him and opened her car door.
"Got what.? What are you planning? Why am I staying here?" He recognized the mischievous look of determination that shot across her face. He was still questioning her when she pulled herself out of the car. "Aren't you going to tell me what's going on?"
Before shutting the door, she bent down so that he could see her face. She shook her head 'no' and smirked at him. "If I told you, you wouldn't let me do it..."
Still processing what she could be up to, he sat in the car and watched as she shut her door and entered the building. Curiosity finally got the best of him several long minutes later. He climbed out of the car, wincing as the biting wind hit his face. He was reaching into the back seat to grab his coat, when he heard the sound of voices. Whipping himself around, he sighed in relief when he saw Catherine holding the door open for an older gentleman who was carrying two large stacks of papers in his arms. Grissom directed his gaze towards Catherine and raised an eyebrow at her. She bit her lip and shrugged innocently at him. Grissom quickly opened the door leading to the backseat and helped the man transfer the newspapers onto the leather cushions. He, then, watched as the man shook Catherine's hand a muttered something about 'the pleasure being all his.' When Grissom saw Catherine walking back towards the passenger side of the car, he entered his side and started the engine.
They were back on the main road before he decided to question her. "So, are you going to tell me what happened back there?"
"Nope. Nothing to tell." She loved watching him squirm.
"What do you mean, 'nothing to tell'? You somehow managed to get..." he eyed the backseat quickly "...at least two or three weeks worth of newspapers. You seemed very convinced that that feat was impossible without a plan. I'm just wondering how you managed..."
"Don't ever under-estimate the charisma of a woman, Gil."
"I'm afraid to ask what that might mean."
"It means that I pulled the neckline of my shirt down a bit, stood a little closer than I normally would during a friendly conversation, and dropped the line once or twice that I used to be a stripper. The man never even asked why I wanted the newspapers. That was my goal.." The corners of her mouth turned upwards. "...and I accomplished it."
"I..cannot..believe...you. The man had to have been pushing eighty years old, Catherine. You could have given him a heart attack." He was shaking his head as he grinned widely. "So, he fell for it...just like that?" He removed his hand from the steering wheel and snapped his fingers in enunciation.
"Grissom, just because you aren't susceptible to my charms, doesn't mean all men aren't."
"I--" He began to utter something, but didn't know what the hell his defense to that was going to be. Initially, he was relieved when she continued speaking.
"I mean 'this' has no effect on you." She gently ran her fingertip along the outer shell of his ear, pausing at his lobe and caressing it between her thumb and forefinger. "Drove him crazy, though... You should have seen him--even you could have appreciated the humor in it."
He could have sworn that he almost drove the car off of the road when she touched him. ~'Has no effect on me'? Is she serious?~ He swallowed hard and barely resisted closing his eyes when her fingers moved to the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Continuing to stare straight ahead, he attempted to focus on anything but how her soft hands were breaking down his body's resolve. ~Calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything to her. She's trying to prove a point. Don't make a fool out of yourself.~
Squeezing the back of his neck gently, Catherine began to wonder if he was suspicious as to why, exactly, she was still touching him. She, herself, knew that this went way beyond a simple 'demonstration.' She relished in the feel of his skin beneath her fingerips. "God Gris, you're tense." Squeezing the back of his neck lightly, she could feel the hardened muscles twitch. "Must be this case, huh? It's got you worked up..." She continued to mumble lightly as she kneeded her palm in between his shoulder blades.
"Uh huh. Must be that." ~Liar.~ His breaths were short and choppy, he and was starting to believe that she must, actually, want him to wreck the car. As he slowed the car to a stop, he took a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on her.
"Grissom?"
He jerked his eyes open. "Huh?" He felt the immediate loss as her hand released itself from his back and moved to the dashboard, balancing herself as she leaned forward and looked out of the windshield.
"You stopped."
He looked up at the swinging traffic light and back over to her. "Red does still indicate 'stop', right?"
She laughed lightly. "As far as I know. But, the light is illuminated, Gil. Meaning that--"
"--the power's back on." He finished.
"Excellent use of deductive reasoning, Dr. Grissom." She patted the top of his head lightly and giggled at his expression.
He too began to laugh at slightly at his own stolidness. He thought better of trying to defend himself--he didn't think it wise blame her because of the effects that she had on his body and mind.
When the red light flickered to green, Grissom turned and pulled into the Inn's lot. Catherine helped him stack the papers into his arms. They began their ascent up the stairs of the fire escape, evading potential questions that the bundles of newspapers might provoke.
They were in for a long night. There was no way of knowing, however, just how eventful the evening may turn out to be...
TBC... Sorry it took so long to update! Retail+Christmas=Busy Ann! Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! You guys mean so much to me! You're all awesome! More casefile and G/C in the coming chapters! And I'm off this weekend(hint, hint!). ; )
Catherine glanced over at Grissom, who was keeping his focus on the road. "You know Gris, you still haven't told me where we're going?"
"You'll find out soon."
"Are we lost?"
He laughed a bit and shot his eyes in her direction. "No."
" How do you know where you're going? Do you live a secret life here?"
"Yes. The wife and kids miss me when I'm in Vegas." He gave her a small wink.
It was her turn to laugh as she smacked him on the leg. "Don't even joke about that. It's scary!"
"What is?" He smiled at her briefly before looking back at the road.
"Just thinking of you leading a double life and the whole 'Hi honey, I'm home' persona. It's hard to visualize. Funny..but hard."
"So, you don't think I'd make a good husband?" His mouth was still turned upwards in a smile, but something in his eyes added a twinge of sadness to his countenance.
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah...I think you did." He chuckled again before turning down a side street. "But, you're right, though...I'd make a lousy husband."
She reached her hand over, letting her fingertips graze his knee. "No, Gil. I lived with a 'lousy husband' for years. You don't have that in you. Hell, I've only pretended to be married to you for a day..." A sparkling smile crossed her features. ".. and I think you're doing a damn fine job."
"Thanks." He averted his gaze to her hand, now resting on his knee, and blushed slightly. "But, I'm not so sure being compared to Eddie gives me peace of mind, Cat."
"I'm not comparing you to Eddie, Grissom. I'm comparing Eddie to you. I always have.." ~Shut up, Catherine. God, just blurt it all out--you're on a roll..~ As the heat rose to her face, she pulled her hand from his leg and turned to face the window, feigning interest in her surroundings.
Grissom's eyes widened at her last statement. His mind was so caught up in reeling from the possible implications of her words, when he almost missed the turn-in to his destination. He quickly turned the wheel to the left and felt the car jump into the gravel that filled the small parking lot. "Um...I think we're here."
Catherine looked up and read the small lettering on the window. UNION TOWNSHIP GAZETTE.
"The local newspaper?" She still wasn't facing him--her eyes were busy scanning the worn-down building.
"Yeah. We'll get copies of the past few weeks' papers and see if we can find any information on the victims that we haven't been privy to as of yet."
She looked in his direction, mocking him with her squinted eyes. "Um, Gris. Haven't you heard the saying 'don't believe everything you read'? Especially in the newspapers--they have a way of twisting information to suit whatever biased opinion they've chosen to take."
"Very true. But, sometimes newspapers tend to obtain the unobtainable." He smiled, pleased with his defense. He saw the hesitant look in her eyes, so he continued. "Trust me, Cath, I wouldn't readily turn to the 'Las Vegas Sun' for case information on a case. But, this is a small town--the glitz and glamour aren't needed. The information these newspapers present might be just as helpful as interviewing people--which, unfortunately, we aren't able to do at this time. Besides, that tabloid of Greg's helped convict Haviland...remember?"
"Yeah, how could I forget? Do you make it your mission in life to be right all of the time, Gris?"
"How'd you guess?" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "You got me figured out, do you?"
"I'm getting there." Catherine stared straight into his eyes. She knew she was getting close to figuring out the enigma that was Gil Grissom. They had always been close, but this trip was providing her with a side of Grissom that she had never seen..a side that she ached to see more of. The one thing that she couldn't place, however, is WHAT exactly, has prompted this beautiful change in him..
He smiled after becoming a bit too comfortable in their eye contact. He shifted a bit and manuvered himself out of the seat belt. When he reached for the door handle, she quickly grabbed his arm and looked at him questioningly. "What are you doing?"
"Um..didn't we just talk about this?" He gestured to the building. "Or did I imagine that?"
"Gil, are you just going to walk in there and politely ask for the last several weeks worth of newspapers? Don't you think that might raise an eyebrow or two? Do you have a plan?"
"No." He said it simply--there was no need to pretend that he had, actually, thought about what reasons he might give. A bit embarassed that he had left out such a major detail while enthralled in his excitement, he frowned and asked Catherine if she had any ideas.
"Actually, I do. You stay here. I just hope I've still got it in me..." She winked at him and opened her car door.
"Got what.? What are you planning? Why am I staying here?" He recognized the mischievous look of determination that shot across her face. He was still questioning her when she pulled herself out of the car. "Aren't you going to tell me what's going on?"
Before shutting the door, she bent down so that he could see her face. She shook her head 'no' and smirked at him. "If I told you, you wouldn't let me do it..."
Still processing what she could be up to, he sat in the car and watched as she shut her door and entered the building. Curiosity finally got the best of him several long minutes later. He climbed out of the car, wincing as the biting wind hit his face. He was reaching into the back seat to grab his coat, when he heard the sound of voices. Whipping himself around, he sighed in relief when he saw Catherine holding the door open for an older gentleman who was carrying two large stacks of papers in his arms. Grissom directed his gaze towards Catherine and raised an eyebrow at her. She bit her lip and shrugged innocently at him. Grissom quickly opened the door leading to the backseat and helped the man transfer the newspapers onto the leather cushions. He, then, watched as the man shook Catherine's hand a muttered something about 'the pleasure being all his.' When Grissom saw Catherine walking back towards the passenger side of the car, he entered his side and started the engine.
They were back on the main road before he decided to question her. "So, are you going to tell me what happened back there?"
"Nope. Nothing to tell." She loved watching him squirm.
"What do you mean, 'nothing to tell'? You somehow managed to get..." he eyed the backseat quickly "...at least two or three weeks worth of newspapers. You seemed very convinced that that feat was impossible without a plan. I'm just wondering how you managed..."
"Don't ever under-estimate the charisma of a woman, Gil."
"I'm afraid to ask what that might mean."
"It means that I pulled the neckline of my shirt down a bit, stood a little closer than I normally would during a friendly conversation, and dropped the line once or twice that I used to be a stripper. The man never even asked why I wanted the newspapers. That was my goal.." The corners of her mouth turned upwards. "...and I accomplished it."
"I..cannot..believe...you. The man had to have been pushing eighty years old, Catherine. You could have given him a heart attack." He was shaking his head as he grinned widely. "So, he fell for it...just like that?" He removed his hand from the steering wheel and snapped his fingers in enunciation.
"Grissom, just because you aren't susceptible to my charms, doesn't mean all men aren't."
"I--" He began to utter something, but didn't know what the hell his defense to that was going to be. Initially, he was relieved when she continued speaking.
"I mean 'this' has no effect on you." She gently ran her fingertip along the outer shell of his ear, pausing at his lobe and caressing it between her thumb and forefinger. "Drove him crazy, though... You should have seen him--even you could have appreciated the humor in it."
He could have sworn that he almost drove the car off of the road when she touched him. ~'Has no effect on me'? Is she serious?~ He swallowed hard and barely resisted closing his eyes when her fingers moved to the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Continuing to stare straight ahead, he attempted to focus on anything but how her soft hands were breaking down his body's resolve. ~Calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything to her. She's trying to prove a point. Don't make a fool out of yourself.~
Squeezing the back of his neck gently, Catherine began to wonder if he was suspicious as to why, exactly, she was still touching him. She, herself, knew that this went way beyond a simple 'demonstration.' She relished in the feel of his skin beneath her fingerips. "God Gris, you're tense." Squeezing the back of his neck lightly, she could feel the hardened muscles twitch. "Must be this case, huh? It's got you worked up..." She continued to mumble lightly as she kneeded her palm in between his shoulder blades.
"Uh huh. Must be that." ~Liar.~ His breaths were short and choppy, he and was starting to believe that she must, actually, want him to wreck the car. As he slowed the car to a stop, he took a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on her.
"Grissom?"
He jerked his eyes open. "Huh?" He felt the immediate loss as her hand released itself from his back and moved to the dashboard, balancing herself as she leaned forward and looked out of the windshield.
"You stopped."
He looked up at the swinging traffic light and back over to her. "Red does still indicate 'stop', right?"
She laughed lightly. "As far as I know. But, the light is illuminated, Gil. Meaning that--"
"--the power's back on." He finished.
"Excellent use of deductive reasoning, Dr. Grissom." She patted the top of his head lightly and giggled at his expression.
He too began to laugh at slightly at his own stolidness. He thought better of trying to defend himself--he didn't think it wise blame her because of the effects that she had on his body and mind.
When the red light flickered to green, Grissom turned and pulled into the Inn's lot. Catherine helped him stack the papers into his arms. They began their ascent up the stairs of the fire escape, evading potential questions that the bundles of newspapers might provoke.
They were in for a long night. There was no way of knowing, however, just how eventful the evening may turn out to be...
TBC... Sorry it took so long to update! Retail+Christmas=Busy Ann! Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! You guys mean so much to me! You're all awesome! More casefile and G/C in the coming chapters! And I'm off this weekend(hint, hint!). ; )