Catherine Willows was finishing a snack before going to bed when her
doorbell rang. She was surprised to see Grissom standing before her door.
"Is he ever gonna get any rest?" She thought with a certain amount of
exasperation as she opened the door.
"Hey." She said.
"Hey." He replied.
She stepped back and held the door open. "You gonna come in?" She prompted when he made no move to enter. He stepped into the house and headed for the kitchen as she shut the door. She followed him to the kitchen, leaned against the doorframe and watched him pull a bottle of scotch from the paper bag he was carrying. He opened the cabinet door and retrieved a tumbler.
"What's up?" She inquired.
"I wanted some company and a good stiff drink." He said as he filled the tumbler half full.
"There's no way I'm lettin' you drive after you drink that." She informed him. He shrugged and took a sip of scotch. She stepped close to him and quickly stripped him of his pager and cell phone. She shut them both off.
He quirked an eyebrow at her actions. "Join Me?"
"I prefer vodka. Go sit. I'll fix myself a screwdriver." She replied.
She sat her drink on the coffee table and sat down close to him on the sofa. She propped her head on her arm and watched him. They said nothing for a while. Catherine knew he wanted to open up, share what was bothering him but it would only come out when he was ready so she would wait. He sipped his scotch and she thought about their relationship. They depended on each other. They ran to each other when things were rough and one or the other needed comfort. They had come so close to taking it a step further so many times.
"I didn't want to be alone." He said at last.
"I take it you didn't get anything during the interrogation." Catherine stated. She was certain there was more bothering him about this case than the fact that the victim was Sara's doppelganger.
"No." He responded. She began to gently stroke his cheek. He moved closer to her, slowly, until his forehead was resting against her neck. She began to idly stroke his hair.
"You want to tell me why this is tearing you up so much?" She asked.
"Hey." She said.
"Hey." He replied.
She stepped back and held the door open. "You gonna come in?" She prompted when he made no move to enter. He stepped into the house and headed for the kitchen as she shut the door. She followed him to the kitchen, leaned against the doorframe and watched him pull a bottle of scotch from the paper bag he was carrying. He opened the cabinet door and retrieved a tumbler.
"What's up?" She inquired.
"I wanted some company and a good stiff drink." He said as he filled the tumbler half full.
"There's no way I'm lettin' you drive after you drink that." She informed him. He shrugged and took a sip of scotch. She stepped close to him and quickly stripped him of his pager and cell phone. She shut them both off.
He quirked an eyebrow at her actions. "Join Me?"
"I prefer vodka. Go sit. I'll fix myself a screwdriver." She replied.
She sat her drink on the coffee table and sat down close to him on the sofa. She propped her head on her arm and watched him. They said nothing for a while. Catherine knew he wanted to open up, share what was bothering him but it would only come out when he was ready so she would wait. He sipped his scotch and she thought about their relationship. They depended on each other. They ran to each other when things were rough and one or the other needed comfort. They had come so close to taking it a step further so many times.
"I didn't want to be alone." He said at last.
"I take it you didn't get anything during the interrogation." Catherine stated. She was certain there was more bothering him about this case than the fact that the victim was Sara's doppelganger.
"No." He responded. She began to gently stroke his cheek. He moved closer to her, slowly, until his forehead was resting against her neck. She began to idly stroke his hair.
"You want to tell me why this is tearing you up so much?" She asked.