Disclaimer - see chapter one
Chapter Two
A piece of music Grissom didn't recognise blasted through the lab and vibrated every bone in the supervisor's body as he and Catherine headed for the DNA lab, in silence, because words would have been drowned out, despite the close proximity they walked in. It had been Catherine who had closed the distance between them, and Grissom noticed immediately. Occasionally her hand brushed against his, sending shock waves through him, and he had to clench his teeth to calm himself down. This was obviously payback for earlier. A very good sign.
Or maybe she intended to use him to shield herself from the debris as the walls of the building shook the ceiling loose in time to the beat.
*****
Catherine moved straight to the CD player and faded the music down so that the drastic change in volume would not cause their ears to go funny, whilst Grissom glared at Greg.
"I only turned it up 'cause I knew you were on your way," Greg smiled cheekily.
Catherine allowed herself a small smile, but hid it from Grissom who looked far from amused.
"What have you got?" Grissom asked Greg sternly.
Greg stole a quick grin at Catherine, then explained his findings. Or lack thereof.
"No DNA on the envelope at all. Didn't lick it to seal it."
Grissom nodded and turned to leave.
"Thanks," Catherine smiled to Greg, ruffling her hand through his hair, then following Grissom out of the lab.
Greg fixed his hair and rolled his chair towards his CD player, reaching for the volume.
"Don't even think about it!" Grissom shouted without even turning around.
Greg smiled contentedly and settled in front of his microscope.
*****
"I've figured it out." Catherine stated out of the blue as they drove back to the house later that night - or technically, early the following morning.
"You have? Based on what Greg told us?" Grissom said, shocked to say the least, because he was lost. And that didn't happen often.
"No! Not that! I've figured out why you're on this case. You should have known I would. I'm a level three crime scene investigator, you know? Trained to solve puzzles," she grinned mischievously.
"I told you why I'm on this case. It's not like you had any missing pieces to find."
"Mobley didn't assign you. He wouldn't. He likes to keep you as far away from the press and the limelight as possible. You wanted to be on this case. Because you're a fan aren't you? You're a Marc Weston fan!. You could have just said, Gil, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I am definitely a Marc Weston fan. He is . hot!"
Catherine was thrown forward and then lurched back solidly into her seat, as the car screeched to a halt and Grissom looked at her incredulously.
"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, rubbing her shoulder where the seat belt had pressed against it.
"I needed to look at you, incredulously, and I couldn't do that whilst driving. I probably would have crashed," Grissom explained, his facial expression still strong.
It was Catherine's turn to look disbelieving. "Oh, that's alright then!" she growled sarcastically. "I've got a black mark on my jacket now. That'll not come out. You can buy me a new one. In fact! You can come shopping with me for the new one! That should be suitable torture!"
Grissom didn't flinch, and Catherine was beginning to be freaked out by his fixed expression and unblinking eyes.
"Gil! Will you stop looking at me incredulously?!! What did I say?"
"You said Marc Weston is hot!" he exclaimed, as if it ranked right up there with swearing in front of your grandparents.
"Well he is!"
"And he is the victim in our case. You can't think of him like that!"
Catherine let out a laugh. "I think you're over-reacting a little. Are you jealous? If it's any consolation, I think you're hot too." She gave him her best flirtatious grin, and giggled to herself as the tops of his ears turned a deeper shade of pink.
"That's irrelevant. You cannot be personally involved in this case. Do I have to reassign you?"
She laughed again, in total disbelief. "Gil, I've been doing this job long enough to know that I shouldn't get involved with people in my cases."
"Catherine, we may know that, but sometimes it's difficult."
"Speaking from experience?" she snapped, more angrily than she had expected to. She had intended to maintain the light tone that she had previously been using, but the now all too familiar tension that formed inside her at the mere thought of the 'incident' that had been the source of her question, had taken over.
From his expression, it was evident that Grissom had noticed the change in tone. Immediately she knew she didn't want to have that conversation. She was curious as to what had, or had not, happened with Lady Heather, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
"Cath, I - " he began, nervously.
"Grissom, rest assured nothing will happen between Marc and me."
Grissom raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "Marc?"
Catherine rolled her eyes. "He asked me to call him that. Honestly, nothing will happen," she smiled, comfortingly. "Just because I think he's hot, doesn't mean I'm gonna pounce on him. Have I ever pounced on you?"
Grissom gave his famous half-smile. "Well, there was that one - "
"Gil Grissom!" she exclaimed. "When you forget that something ever happened, you forget that it ever happened!! Now start this car, we have to go tell the very hot Marc Weston that we have no leads."
Catherine settled herself back into her seat, adjusting her jacket to cushion her sore shoulder. Seconds passed and she realised they were still stationary. Glancing at Grissom she noticed he was staring at her.
"Grissom?. Grissom?. You'd better not be thinking about what I think you're thinking about!"
He smiled devilishly. "No, I'm not allowed to think about that. I was thinking about . Lady Heather."
"Oh," Catherine said quietly, trying hard not to sound her disappointment.
"Cath, I feel I should - "
"Gil, you don't have - " she interrupted quickly, only to be cut off herself.
"I want to. I want you to know that - "
"Gil, honestly, whatever happened, it doesn't - "
"Catherine, do you think I could finish my sentence?"
"Do you think I could?"
"I spoke first."
"No you didn't!"
"Yes I did!"
"No! I spoke first. I said, and I quote, 'I've got it!'"
"We're not talking about first first. I was first to be cut off."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I was trying to tell you that - "
"Ah! Very cunning. Did you think you could just slip it into your sentence and I wouldn't have chance to cut you off?
"Why do you keep cutting me off?"
Catherine sighed exasperatedly. "Because you don't have to tell me! Whatever happened with Lady Heather - "
"Nothing happened with Lady Heather," Grissom said quickly, smiling a little at the glare that Catherine gave him for managing to get that in.
"Even if it had, it's none of my business. You didn't have to tell me."
"I wanted to."
Catherine nodded her understanding. "As long as you know that you didn't have to. Now will you start the car, I've got a date with a movie star!"
Grissom gave her an incredulous look again.
She shrugged. "Just wanted to say it. See what it felt like."
They both laughed then Grissom turned to face forward and resumed their route.
Catherine watched him for a few seconds - not analysing the fact that he had wanted to tell her that nothing had happened with Lady Heather - then she settled herself looking out of the side window, and as she watched the Las Vegas world pass by, she allowed a smile to creep onto her face.
TBC.
Chapter Two
A piece of music Grissom didn't recognise blasted through the lab and vibrated every bone in the supervisor's body as he and Catherine headed for the DNA lab, in silence, because words would have been drowned out, despite the close proximity they walked in. It had been Catherine who had closed the distance between them, and Grissom noticed immediately. Occasionally her hand brushed against his, sending shock waves through him, and he had to clench his teeth to calm himself down. This was obviously payback for earlier. A very good sign.
Or maybe she intended to use him to shield herself from the debris as the walls of the building shook the ceiling loose in time to the beat.
*****
Catherine moved straight to the CD player and faded the music down so that the drastic change in volume would not cause their ears to go funny, whilst Grissom glared at Greg.
"I only turned it up 'cause I knew you were on your way," Greg smiled cheekily.
Catherine allowed herself a small smile, but hid it from Grissom who looked far from amused.
"What have you got?" Grissom asked Greg sternly.
Greg stole a quick grin at Catherine, then explained his findings. Or lack thereof.
"No DNA on the envelope at all. Didn't lick it to seal it."
Grissom nodded and turned to leave.
"Thanks," Catherine smiled to Greg, ruffling her hand through his hair, then following Grissom out of the lab.
Greg fixed his hair and rolled his chair towards his CD player, reaching for the volume.
"Don't even think about it!" Grissom shouted without even turning around.
Greg smiled contentedly and settled in front of his microscope.
*****
"I've figured it out." Catherine stated out of the blue as they drove back to the house later that night - or technically, early the following morning.
"You have? Based on what Greg told us?" Grissom said, shocked to say the least, because he was lost. And that didn't happen often.
"No! Not that! I've figured out why you're on this case. You should have known I would. I'm a level three crime scene investigator, you know? Trained to solve puzzles," she grinned mischievously.
"I told you why I'm on this case. It's not like you had any missing pieces to find."
"Mobley didn't assign you. He wouldn't. He likes to keep you as far away from the press and the limelight as possible. You wanted to be on this case. Because you're a fan aren't you? You're a Marc Weston fan!. You could have just said, Gil, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I am definitely a Marc Weston fan. He is . hot!"
Catherine was thrown forward and then lurched back solidly into her seat, as the car screeched to a halt and Grissom looked at her incredulously.
"What the hell?!" she exclaimed, rubbing her shoulder where the seat belt had pressed against it.
"I needed to look at you, incredulously, and I couldn't do that whilst driving. I probably would have crashed," Grissom explained, his facial expression still strong.
It was Catherine's turn to look disbelieving. "Oh, that's alright then!" she growled sarcastically. "I've got a black mark on my jacket now. That'll not come out. You can buy me a new one. In fact! You can come shopping with me for the new one! That should be suitable torture!"
Grissom didn't flinch, and Catherine was beginning to be freaked out by his fixed expression and unblinking eyes.
"Gil! Will you stop looking at me incredulously?!! What did I say?"
"You said Marc Weston is hot!" he exclaimed, as if it ranked right up there with swearing in front of your grandparents.
"Well he is!"
"And he is the victim in our case. You can't think of him like that!"
Catherine let out a laugh. "I think you're over-reacting a little. Are you jealous? If it's any consolation, I think you're hot too." She gave him her best flirtatious grin, and giggled to herself as the tops of his ears turned a deeper shade of pink.
"That's irrelevant. You cannot be personally involved in this case. Do I have to reassign you?"
She laughed again, in total disbelief. "Gil, I've been doing this job long enough to know that I shouldn't get involved with people in my cases."
"Catherine, we may know that, but sometimes it's difficult."
"Speaking from experience?" she snapped, more angrily than she had expected to. She had intended to maintain the light tone that she had previously been using, but the now all too familiar tension that formed inside her at the mere thought of the 'incident' that had been the source of her question, had taken over.
From his expression, it was evident that Grissom had noticed the change in tone. Immediately she knew she didn't want to have that conversation. She was curious as to what had, or had not, happened with Lady Heather, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
"Cath, I - " he began, nervously.
"Grissom, rest assured nothing will happen between Marc and me."
Grissom raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "Marc?"
Catherine rolled her eyes. "He asked me to call him that. Honestly, nothing will happen," she smiled, comfortingly. "Just because I think he's hot, doesn't mean I'm gonna pounce on him. Have I ever pounced on you?"
Grissom gave his famous half-smile. "Well, there was that one - "
"Gil Grissom!" she exclaimed. "When you forget that something ever happened, you forget that it ever happened!! Now start this car, we have to go tell the very hot Marc Weston that we have no leads."
Catherine settled herself back into her seat, adjusting her jacket to cushion her sore shoulder. Seconds passed and she realised they were still stationary. Glancing at Grissom she noticed he was staring at her.
"Grissom?. Grissom?. You'd better not be thinking about what I think you're thinking about!"
He smiled devilishly. "No, I'm not allowed to think about that. I was thinking about . Lady Heather."
"Oh," Catherine said quietly, trying hard not to sound her disappointment.
"Cath, I feel I should - "
"Gil, you don't have - " she interrupted quickly, only to be cut off herself.
"I want to. I want you to know that - "
"Gil, honestly, whatever happened, it doesn't - "
"Catherine, do you think I could finish my sentence?"
"Do you think I could?"
"I spoke first."
"No you didn't!"
"Yes I did!"
"No! I spoke first. I said, and I quote, 'I've got it!'"
"We're not talking about first first. I was first to be cut off."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I was trying to tell you that - "
"Ah! Very cunning. Did you think you could just slip it into your sentence and I wouldn't have chance to cut you off?
"Why do you keep cutting me off?"
Catherine sighed exasperatedly. "Because you don't have to tell me! Whatever happened with Lady Heather - "
"Nothing happened with Lady Heather," Grissom said quickly, smiling a little at the glare that Catherine gave him for managing to get that in.
"Even if it had, it's none of my business. You didn't have to tell me."
"I wanted to."
Catherine nodded her understanding. "As long as you know that you didn't have to. Now will you start the car, I've got a date with a movie star!"
Grissom gave her an incredulous look again.
She shrugged. "Just wanted to say it. See what it felt like."
They both laughed then Grissom turned to face forward and resumed their route.
Catherine watched him for a few seconds - not analysing the fact that he had wanted to tell her that nothing had happened with Lady Heather - then she settled herself looking out of the side window, and as she watched the Las Vegas world pass by, she allowed a smile to creep onto her face.
TBC.