Title: For Now

Author: DolittleMD 

Spoilers: Season 3  "Recipe for Murder"

Disclaimer:  All characters therein belong to Viacom and Bruckheimer the words and plot are my own.

Feedback: dolittlemd@hotmail.com or you could just review Warning: this is a BETA-free zone! Misused commas beware!

God, he must have really pissed her off this time. Greg had tried to warn him as he entered the break room, but Grissom had brushed off his cryptic "flying mug" comment as yet another pop reference that he was unfamiliar with.

No, the first sign of trouble was the slight crunching of ceramic beneath his feet between the long couches and the countertop were the coffee supplies were housed.  Then there was the splatter of light brown down the one solid wall to the left, starting at about shoulder height.

However even if Gil Grissom was not a brilliant and talented criminalist, trained to notice all of these minute details, the tense figure of Catherine Willows in front of the coffeepot pouring a new cup of coffee would have been enough of a warning sign to him of the need to tread very lightly.

"Is that fresh?" he ventured, thinking that the discussion of the department provided sludge was a bit of neutral and safe territory.

All he received was silence, then the slamming of a now styro-foam cup against the countertop.  The effect was less as dramatic. 

"Stuff it, Gil."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me.  When did you decide to become such an asshole?"

"Umm.  I feel like I'm missing something here.  Care to back up and tell me what a thrown coffee mug has to do with me?"  Gil stuffed his hand habitually in his pants pocket.

"Four months."

Her response left him puzzled.  Nothing in his mind stood out as being noteworthy four months prior.  However his thoughts had been a little pre-occupied since his diagnosis.  Could that be what she was referring to?

"Four months."  She repeated.  "You know Grissom, if you have a beef with me, you should just spill it instead of acting so childish about it."

"Catherine, I don't understand."

She took a deep breath and fidgeted with the holder for the coffee extras, rearranging the stirrers by height.  "I know I was out of line to rip into like that about the hearing, but I certainly didn't except you to become so vindictive about it.  We used to have a relationship where we could tell each other things honestly and openly.

"We still do."

"No we don't." she argued back.  "Anger I could have respected not this petty, childish behavior. This is beneath you, Gil."

"Catherine, what are you trying to say?"

"That comment about Ecklie, comparing you to him, during the grand jury hearing of that movie star's homicide"

"Oh." He replied and moved to sit down on the long couch.  "You were right to say what you did.  I admit it hurt a bit, but you were right.  I was too nervous to have my past dragged up in court.  I didn't want it to jeopardize the case."

Catherine didn't join him on the couch; rather she picked up her styro cup again and sipped slowly.

"Then why haven't we worked a case together since?" she asked after a bit.

"That's not true, we worked that snuff film together."
"Only the initial process. As soon as something else came up you spilt."

"Brass called me, about the other case it involved..."

"I know, I know," she interrupted.  "The creepies were crawlin' and you came a knockin'"

"Yeah, something like that."

Grissom knew that setting her right about the whole situation was going to be complicated.  How could he mention that he was resistant about working with her because he knew that she would be able to figure out about his hearing?  You didn't spend that many years working together in their occupation without learning intrinsically the ins and outs of every person's abilities, and Catherine certainly had that figured out about him.

"Ok, let's switch it around for tonight.  Sara and Warrick will take the vic at the apartment and you and I will handle the John Doe at the meat factory. Sound good?"

"Yeah.  I feel a little silly though."

"Why's that?" he asked as the headed out of the lounge.

"That was Nick's mug, not mine."

Grissom had long ago learned to let Catherine take point on an initial process of a scene.  Regardless of her excellent people skills and forceful personality, her attractive qualities always seemed to send the badges maintaining the scene into a panic to gain her favor.  Little did they know how uninterested she was with them when faced with a new puzzle to solve.  He and Brass often shared a chuckle over some of the more idiotic bumbling they had seen in the past.  Especially when she wore that red tank top.

"Damn that should just be outlawed."  Brass would mutter under his breath.  "Grissom can't you have her wear something else.  For the sake of my men of course. Can't have the entire police force looking like drooling idiots in front of the general populace."

"Sure, just you tell her."

Brass would hold his hands up in surrender, he knew better then to even think of broaching the topic with the fiery redhead.

When Catherine mentioned frequenting the pricey restaurant before, his curiosity was peeked.  Was it with that Casino owner who doted on her when her danced or some other appreciative high-rolling client that brought her here to dine on $40 fore grais. It was certainly something they couldn't afford now on their pathetic CSI salaries. He had little doubt though that she wouldn't look fabulous sipping some rare merlot in a booth near the back.

But when they finished the case with the help of a little manipulation of the suspects, Grissom felt euphoric.  There was an intoxicating feeling in catching the bad guys, especially when they thought themselves to crafty to be caught.  So riding that emotion he decided to extend out one more olive branch to make sure that everything was indeed ok between the pair.

"How about dinner?"

When she accepted, he knew this could not be the usual greasy spoon breakfast that they had shared before.  Rather, it needed to be serious, something that even the ambiguous relations between them could misconstrue meaning, but see it as something important between them. This explained why he was stuck in front of an ever-shrinking collection of ties, threatening to be late to pick her up.

The small French restaurant was not the same as the VIP establishment of their case file. However he had heard good things about them from a University colleague. Getting a table on a Thursday night was difficult, he called in a few favors, and even threatened the ill placement of some specific anthropoids. Grissom was successful but it was all going to go to hell if did just pick a damn tie and jump in the Tahoe.

"I've always liked that suit on you," Catherine said as she stepped gingerly up into the SUV.

"You've seen it before?"

"Yeah. You wore it to the trial hearing same tie and everything."

He was shocked and amazed by his subconscious's inability to refrain from innuendo. "Catherine, I didn't do it on purpose I swear."

"I know Gris, malice never was your MO. 'Sides it matches my dress well"

That much was very true. The dress was strapless retro number from a Doris Day film, and in periwinkle her eyes sparkled brightly.

Dinner pasted pleasantly, with both savoring each bite before them.

"This is delicious Gil. How did you find out about this place?"

"Oh, somewhere. I overheard people."

"Seems a little rich for law enforcement salary." Commented Catherine, taking another sip of the house Burgundy.

"Well if we discuss one case in the next twenty minutes we can officially declare this a business meeting and file it as an expense."

"There's a plan. Too bad vengeful murder in a meat packer plant won't sit well with my beef bolognaise."

Well," Grissom offered, "We'll just have to find something else to talk about."

Silence stretched out between them, palpable and suffocating. Grissom was a little dumbfounded. Catherine was beautiful in the dim yellow candlelight of the small table. Far behind him people whispered about, soft music played, and silverware scraped against the hard white china, but between two colleagues and friends the gap of pleasant conversation was widening.

Catherine dropped her eyes and chuckled. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"I suppose." He agreed. "Maybe for us the chatter is unnecessary. Our time's better spent on other things."

"True. After this much time together we should be in that stage of comfortable silences between us."

"Maybe it's because we've gone about this backwards." He offered. "We know everything about each other's mind. Even to jump to the same leaps of logic together. Yet, we're ignorant of even the most basic secrets of close friends. In place we have a guarded intimacy."

"Without the intimate part." Catherine countered.

"For now."

Catherine looked at him incredulously before breaking into a full smile. She brought up her glass in a toast, "To then."

"To then." He echoed. "May it come sooner than later."

They clinked their glasses together.

THE END

****

AN: OK true the ending was a bit of a cope out, but after the recent movie trip for my pair I think that TPTB will handle this thread for me quite nicely on their own. Sigh, one less show for me to fix …… now about that Angel story arc.