A/n: Thanks for the reviews – wow – you guys are taking some serious time out to write them. Thanks for all the support.
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"Cath!" Greg exclaimed, as he saw the blonde hair woman in the car park.
She stopped and turned. This gave him chance to catch up.
"Sorry Greg," she said apologetically, "I need to get home, Lindsey…."she lied.
"…Why have you been avoiding me," Greg directly questioned. His eyes bore holes in Cath, who was visually agitated; she kept turning round to look at her car.
She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to talk to him right now. She needed time to think. She couldn't tell him what she was really feeling; it didn't even make sense to her, she shouldn't burden it on another.
And Greg certainly had enough burdens to carry.
Greg knew he wasn't following Grissom's advice – but he didn't care. Catherine wasn't acting like everyone else.
"I…erm," Cath, usually confident in her speech began to stutter. She didn't know what to say, and Greg didn't look like he was going to let her leave without an answer.
It was so unusual for him to be confrontational.
"Look if you want to get home to linz that's fine. But I'm not going anywhere, ill still be here tomorrow," Greg said, putting his hands in his pockets. He turned, it was true, he's still be here tomorrow, and he didn't mind waiting.
Catherine shook her head, "wait," she said quietly, grabbing his hand. It was now or never. She could go home, think of a lie, and come back tomorrow.
But she didn't want to.
Greg had been truthful with them; she wanted to be truthful with him.
Or maybe she was just being selfish; getting of her mind.
"I blame myself for what happened to you." She said honestly.
Greg searched his mind for a moment. "The explosion?" he said in confusion.
"Yes."
"I don't blame you – but, what has that got to do with this?" He said, his voice echoing his confusion.
"I'm glad." She said looking away; she didn't want him to look at her.
"Glad?" He said in utter disbelief.
"Every time something bad happens to someone – I'm glad its not me." She admitted, suddenly forming eye contact with him.
Greg Laughed. "That's normal Cath!" he exclaimed, not really knowing if he believed his own words. But he understood what she meant; working in a lab, you here about a lot of bad things, and sometimes you do think 'I'm glad that wasn't me' – but he was surprised it had effect Cath so much.
"No! It's not! Your ill, and I'm so happy it's not me! I'm happy I'm not sick! Its as bad as wanting you ill!" she cried.
Greg felt himself cringe at the number of times she said, 'ill' and 'sick' – it made him feel dirty. He even hated the word 'disease' – he preferred 'condition' – but he knew he was being oversensitive.
It was just a word.
But a single word had changed his life before.
Greg could see the desperation on her face. She wanted forgiveness. He didn't quite understand her reasons; but they were important to her.
"People get sick. Labs blow up. I'm still alive." He said insistently, emphasizing 'sick' and 'alive'. "And I don't blame you." He continued. "For what you've done or what your feeling."
"Thank you," she said, shaken by her own confession. She gave him a small hug, and proceeded to her car.
Greg watched her leave.
He felt indifferent.
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"Cath!" Greg exclaimed, as he saw the blonde hair woman in the car park.
She stopped and turned. This gave him chance to catch up.
"Sorry Greg," she said apologetically, "I need to get home, Lindsey…."she lied.
"…Why have you been avoiding me," Greg directly questioned. His eyes bore holes in Cath, who was visually agitated; she kept turning round to look at her car.
She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to talk to him right now. She needed time to think. She couldn't tell him what she was really feeling; it didn't even make sense to her, she shouldn't burden it on another.
And Greg certainly had enough burdens to carry.
Greg knew he wasn't following Grissom's advice – but he didn't care. Catherine wasn't acting like everyone else.
"I…erm," Cath, usually confident in her speech began to stutter. She didn't know what to say, and Greg didn't look like he was going to let her leave without an answer.
It was so unusual for him to be confrontational.
"Look if you want to get home to linz that's fine. But I'm not going anywhere, ill still be here tomorrow," Greg said, putting his hands in his pockets. He turned, it was true, he's still be here tomorrow, and he didn't mind waiting.
Catherine shook her head, "wait," she said quietly, grabbing his hand. It was now or never. She could go home, think of a lie, and come back tomorrow.
But she didn't want to.
Greg had been truthful with them; she wanted to be truthful with him.
Or maybe she was just being selfish; getting of her mind.
"I blame myself for what happened to you." She said honestly.
Greg searched his mind for a moment. "The explosion?" he said in confusion.
"Yes."
"I don't blame you – but, what has that got to do with this?" He said, his voice echoing his confusion.
"I'm glad." She said looking away; she didn't want him to look at her.
"Glad?" He said in utter disbelief.
"Every time something bad happens to someone – I'm glad its not me." She admitted, suddenly forming eye contact with him.
Greg Laughed. "That's normal Cath!" he exclaimed, not really knowing if he believed his own words. But he understood what she meant; working in a lab, you here about a lot of bad things, and sometimes you do think 'I'm glad that wasn't me' – but he was surprised it had effect Cath so much.
"No! It's not! Your ill, and I'm so happy it's not me! I'm happy I'm not sick! Its as bad as wanting you ill!" she cried.
Greg felt himself cringe at the number of times she said, 'ill' and 'sick' – it made him feel dirty. He even hated the word 'disease' – he preferred 'condition' – but he knew he was being oversensitive.
It was just a word.
But a single word had changed his life before.
Greg could see the desperation on her face. She wanted forgiveness. He didn't quite understand her reasons; but they were important to her.
"People get sick. Labs blow up. I'm still alive." He said insistently, emphasizing 'sick' and 'alive'. "And I don't blame you." He continued. "For what you've done or what your feeling."
"Thank you," she said, shaken by her own confession. She gave him a small hug, and proceeded to her car.
Greg watched her leave.
He felt indifferent.