Disclaimer: please see chapter one
Chapter Seven
Even Catherine's dazzling smile didn't work on the doctor in charge of the "Celebrity" reporter's care, and they were not permitted to see him. He was resting. He needed that rest and he wasn't to be disturbed. They had considered sneaking in when the doctor's back was turned, or having him paged to a different floor, but thought against it. His patient was the only lead they had in a soon to be extremely high profile case, they couldn't do anything that might jeopardise the validity of any evidence he might hold.
So now they wandered the corridors of the hospital on their way back to the car park. Neither of them was speaking. They were both too consumed with trying to figure out how to progress with the investigation. It was going nowhere very slowly, and they didn't like that.
They reached the Tahoe, which Grissom unlocked, and they both climbed in. They drove back to the lab, maintaining the silence they had begun at the hospital. Grissom parked the car in his usual spot and they both hopped out, and walked into the building. They followed the corridors to his office and sat down in their usual seats.
"Anything?" Grissom asked.
Catherine shook her head. "Not a thing. You?"
He shook his head.
Catherine sighed. "What a waste of a journey. Just think, all that time we just spent thinking, we could have spent chatting," she finished with a small smile.
"I don't chat, Cath," Grissom responded with his own small smile.
"Pity. Looks like were gonna have a lot of time for it on this case!"
"Do I detect a hint of dejection, Ms Willows?"
"If you only detect a hint you're not as observant as you used to be."
Grissom laughed a little then watched Catherine as she closed her eyes, and rolled her head from side to side as her hands massaged her shoulders. Even when she was tired she was beautiful, and that beauty trapped his gaze and he couldn't look away. She gave a short moan of exhaustion as she tried to move her hands further down the back of her shoulders, drawing Grissom's attention to her lips. Parted slightly, they looked so inviting and he remembered how it felt to be able to kiss them, to be allowed to feel them against his, to explore what was behind them. He followed them as her head rolled to the other side, and before he even realised he was going to speak he said:
"Would you like me to do that for you?"
Catherine's head darted upright and her eyes flicked open. "What?"
It took him a second to find out what he had said, then he stuttered: "Would you . like me to . rub your shoulders for you? It's probably more likely to have the desired effect if you're not doing it yourself."
"Oh," 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' It was difficult to think straight when her mind so obviously wanted to say yes, and Catherine paused for a moment as she prayed that logic could prevail, she wasn't sure she could trust herself to have his hands on her - it brought back a particular dreamland memory. "Erm. No, I'm fine. Thanks. We should be working."
"We have nothing to do."
"We could. interview. someone."
"Like who?" Grissom asked, slightly amused by her behaviour, and happy to let that emotion show rather than the sadness he felt that she so obviously didn't want him to touch her.
"Like. like . or . Oh! Yes please," she finally said, giving up in frustration.
He was slightly taken aback by that last part. "What?"
"Please would you rub my shoulders for me?" she asked softly.
"I thought - "
"Well, it's like you say, we don't have anything to do. And they are pretty tense. If you don - "
"Of course I will," he smiled, standing to move to her side of the desk, inwardly hoping that he had enough self-control to do this without getting carried away.
Nervously she straightened in her seat and leaned back. As he stood behind her she lifted her hair off her shoulders to allow his hands easier access. He took a quiet, deep breath and gently placed his hands to either side of her neck. She jumped slightly as he touched her causing him to pull his hands away and her to mentally slap herself.
"I'm sorry -" he began.
"No, your hands are just a little cold," she lied, hoping that as he couldn't see her face, he wouldn't be able to tell she was lying.
"Oh, sorry," he said, rubbing his hands together a little to warm them up.
While he did this she tried to compose herself. Three days ago this would have been fine. Grissom massaging her shoulders would have been nice, it would have been fun. She probably would have wound him up all the way through it, he would have threatened to stop several times, never once following through on his threat no matter what her next comment was. Everything would have been as it should be. Now one little kiss had changed it all. Okay, it wasn't a little kiss. One mind-blowingly wonderful kiss had changed it all. Now, just the thought of his hands massaging her skin provoked too many sexual images for her to handle. Even just being able to sense him standing behind her was arousing and frustrating her at the same time. She just wanted to scream.
He softly brushed her hair to the side with one hand and then placed the other slowly against her shoulder.
"Is that better?" he asked.
Managing to suppress her desire to quiver at his touch, Catherine nodded, "Yeah."
"Good," he said as he put his other hand on the other side and began to work at her muscles.
She sat very still, concentrating all her efforts on remaining in the real world, and not letting her mind wander off.
"God, you are tense," Grissom said a few seconds later. "Relax."
"I am relaxed."
"No you're not."
"I am!"
"No you're not!"
"Fine!" She closed her eyes, let her head fall back slightly and let out a contented sounding sigh.
"It's no good pretending to relax, I can feel it in your shoulders that you're not really relaxing," Grissom smirked.
"Well, if you'd stop nagging me and get on with it, I might be able to relax!" she retorted.
"Sorry!" Grissom responded, drawing out the 'ee' sound at the end of the word.
Catherine laughed.
"What?"
"You sounded like Lindsey."
"Hmm. Must have picked that up last night."
An awkward silence descended upon the room at the mention of last night, those words acting like the bucket of cold water they had both needed. Grissom returned his concentration to massaging his tired friend's shoulders, and Catherine tried to appreciate her friend's gesture.
"Hard at work, I see!" Brass chuckled from the doorway.
Grissom jumped away from Catherine and they both shot round to face him.
"Hey! There's no need to feel that guilty, I know as well as you do that we've got nothing for you to do. or at least, we had nothing," he smiled.
"You've got something?" Grissom asked quickly.
"Well," Brass began, taking a seat on the edge of Grissom's desk, "kind of. I need to," he paused to think of the right word, ". discuss something with you."
"That sounds ominous," Catherine said.
"Nah! It's nothing to worry about," Brass replied.
"So why the delaying tactics?" Grissom asked.
"You probably aren't gonna like it," he answered, his 'you' directed at Grissom.
"But I will?" Catherine queried.
"You'll probably love it."
"Do you think you could tell us, Jim, the suspense is killing us here?" Grissom commented dryly, looking as unenthusiastic as he sounded.
"The latest letter makes a threat on Marc Weston's life."
"As death threats normally do," Catherine offered.
"This is more specific than the others. Where it says 'the final moment will be your last' we believe this is not just ramblings of a mad man, we think it means he's gonna strike at the premiere of "The Final Moment", the latest Bruckheimer blockbuster. A premiere Mr Weston is due to attend in three days time."
"Just how sadistic do you think I am?" Catherine asked, incredulously.
Brass frowned at her. "What?"
"Why would I love that?"
"Oh. That's not the part you'll love. The film was part filmed in Vegas, so the premiere is being held here - "
"Oh yeah," Catherine interrupted, "I saw something about that last night when we were at the theatre. Didn't pay much attention. Grissom, did you see - "
"You two were at the theatre? Together?" Brass smirked with raised eyebrows.
"It was Lindsey's birthday. When do we get to the part that she'll love and I won't?"
"Well, if you two would stop interrupting me and confusing me with talk of you going on dates - "
"It wasn't a date," they said in unison.
"Still with the interrupting!. Marc says he's not gonna let this stop him from going, so of course security will be stepped up and he'll have extra bodyguards et cetera, et cetera - "
"Jim! I'm sure you have a point!" Grissom said angrily.
"This is the morning's newspaper," he said dropping a tabloid paper onto the desk.
Grissom and Catherine both looked at it. The headline across the top read "Body Found in Bellagio Fountain".
"Oooh! Looks like the PR department didn't do as well as Warrick thought," Catherine commented.
"You want the other story."
They looked further down the page where a slightly smaller headline read 'When in Vegas.'. They continued to read the story which was about Marc Weston's 'new woman'. After a few seconds of silent reading, they both looked up and exclaimed:
"What?!"
"My initial reaction."
"Can I sue?" Catherine asked.
"Well, they haven't really said anything bad about you. You did used to be an exotic dancer, and you are a CSI."
"But I'm not dating Marc Weston!"
"But is being romantically linked to a movie star really defamation of character?"
Catherine shrugged. "I suppose not."
"I still feel like you haven't got to the point," Grissom spoke for the first time, having spent the rest of the time thinking about what the story said was going on between Catherine and Marc and fighting with the jealousy that stirred within him.
"Despite his anger that you are involved with the victim in one of your cases, the Sheriff . "
Grissom rolled his eyes at the mere mention of that man.
". thinks we can use it to our advantage. And Marc Weston has agreed to his plan. After he explained to the Sheriff that there isn't anything going on with you."
"It shouldn't have needed explaining. He should know better than to believe what he reads in the paper."
"She isn't doing it."
Brass turned to Grissom. "I knew you were gonna say that."
"I'll decide if I'm doing it."
"And I knew you were going to say that."
"I take it I'm to go to the premiere as Marc Weston's date?"
"That's right. That way we have someone with him at all times, and you'll be expected to be there. The rest of us can blend into the background."
Catherine smiled. "Hmm. Paid to go out with a movie star. Does that make me a prostitute?" she laughed.
Brass joined her laughter. "The date doesn't have to go that far. I'll be in touch with the details. In the meantime be aware that there may be reporters around, and you need to keep up the charade."
Catherine nodded and said goodbye to Brass as he left. Then she sat down in front of the desk and looked at Grissom who was wearing his 'I'm not happy about this' face.
"We're not using me as bait for a serial killer, I'll be fine. I'm just going to the movies. Nothing's gonna happen that wouldn't normally happen. Except for there being more actors and film producers there, it'll be just like last night."
"That's what I'm worried about."
TBC.
Chapter Seven
Even Catherine's dazzling smile didn't work on the doctor in charge of the "Celebrity" reporter's care, and they were not permitted to see him. He was resting. He needed that rest and he wasn't to be disturbed. They had considered sneaking in when the doctor's back was turned, or having him paged to a different floor, but thought against it. His patient was the only lead they had in a soon to be extremely high profile case, they couldn't do anything that might jeopardise the validity of any evidence he might hold.
So now they wandered the corridors of the hospital on their way back to the car park. Neither of them was speaking. They were both too consumed with trying to figure out how to progress with the investigation. It was going nowhere very slowly, and they didn't like that.
They reached the Tahoe, which Grissom unlocked, and they both climbed in. They drove back to the lab, maintaining the silence they had begun at the hospital. Grissom parked the car in his usual spot and they both hopped out, and walked into the building. They followed the corridors to his office and sat down in their usual seats.
"Anything?" Grissom asked.
Catherine shook her head. "Not a thing. You?"
He shook his head.
Catherine sighed. "What a waste of a journey. Just think, all that time we just spent thinking, we could have spent chatting," she finished with a small smile.
"I don't chat, Cath," Grissom responded with his own small smile.
"Pity. Looks like were gonna have a lot of time for it on this case!"
"Do I detect a hint of dejection, Ms Willows?"
"If you only detect a hint you're not as observant as you used to be."
Grissom laughed a little then watched Catherine as she closed her eyes, and rolled her head from side to side as her hands massaged her shoulders. Even when she was tired she was beautiful, and that beauty trapped his gaze and he couldn't look away. She gave a short moan of exhaustion as she tried to move her hands further down the back of her shoulders, drawing Grissom's attention to her lips. Parted slightly, they looked so inviting and he remembered how it felt to be able to kiss them, to be allowed to feel them against his, to explore what was behind them. He followed them as her head rolled to the other side, and before he even realised he was going to speak he said:
"Would you like me to do that for you?"
Catherine's head darted upright and her eyes flicked open. "What?"
It took him a second to find out what he had said, then he stuttered: "Would you . like me to . rub your shoulders for you? It's probably more likely to have the desired effect if you're not doing it yourself."
"Oh," 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' It was difficult to think straight when her mind so obviously wanted to say yes, and Catherine paused for a moment as she prayed that logic could prevail, she wasn't sure she could trust herself to have his hands on her - it brought back a particular dreamland memory. "Erm. No, I'm fine. Thanks. We should be working."
"We have nothing to do."
"We could. interview. someone."
"Like who?" Grissom asked, slightly amused by her behaviour, and happy to let that emotion show rather than the sadness he felt that she so obviously didn't want him to touch her.
"Like. like . or . Oh! Yes please," she finally said, giving up in frustration.
He was slightly taken aback by that last part. "What?"
"Please would you rub my shoulders for me?" she asked softly.
"I thought - "
"Well, it's like you say, we don't have anything to do. And they are pretty tense. If you don - "
"Of course I will," he smiled, standing to move to her side of the desk, inwardly hoping that he had enough self-control to do this without getting carried away.
Nervously she straightened in her seat and leaned back. As he stood behind her she lifted her hair off her shoulders to allow his hands easier access. He took a quiet, deep breath and gently placed his hands to either side of her neck. She jumped slightly as he touched her causing him to pull his hands away and her to mentally slap herself.
"I'm sorry -" he began.
"No, your hands are just a little cold," she lied, hoping that as he couldn't see her face, he wouldn't be able to tell she was lying.
"Oh, sorry," he said, rubbing his hands together a little to warm them up.
While he did this she tried to compose herself. Three days ago this would have been fine. Grissom massaging her shoulders would have been nice, it would have been fun. She probably would have wound him up all the way through it, he would have threatened to stop several times, never once following through on his threat no matter what her next comment was. Everything would have been as it should be. Now one little kiss had changed it all. Okay, it wasn't a little kiss. One mind-blowingly wonderful kiss had changed it all. Now, just the thought of his hands massaging her skin provoked too many sexual images for her to handle. Even just being able to sense him standing behind her was arousing and frustrating her at the same time. She just wanted to scream.
He softly brushed her hair to the side with one hand and then placed the other slowly against her shoulder.
"Is that better?" he asked.
Managing to suppress her desire to quiver at his touch, Catherine nodded, "Yeah."
"Good," he said as he put his other hand on the other side and began to work at her muscles.
She sat very still, concentrating all her efforts on remaining in the real world, and not letting her mind wander off.
"God, you are tense," Grissom said a few seconds later. "Relax."
"I am relaxed."
"No you're not."
"I am!"
"No you're not!"
"Fine!" She closed her eyes, let her head fall back slightly and let out a contented sounding sigh.
"It's no good pretending to relax, I can feel it in your shoulders that you're not really relaxing," Grissom smirked.
"Well, if you'd stop nagging me and get on with it, I might be able to relax!" she retorted.
"Sorry!" Grissom responded, drawing out the 'ee' sound at the end of the word.
Catherine laughed.
"What?"
"You sounded like Lindsey."
"Hmm. Must have picked that up last night."
An awkward silence descended upon the room at the mention of last night, those words acting like the bucket of cold water they had both needed. Grissom returned his concentration to massaging his tired friend's shoulders, and Catherine tried to appreciate her friend's gesture.
"Hard at work, I see!" Brass chuckled from the doorway.
Grissom jumped away from Catherine and they both shot round to face him.
"Hey! There's no need to feel that guilty, I know as well as you do that we've got nothing for you to do. or at least, we had nothing," he smiled.
"You've got something?" Grissom asked quickly.
"Well," Brass began, taking a seat on the edge of Grissom's desk, "kind of. I need to," he paused to think of the right word, ". discuss something with you."
"That sounds ominous," Catherine said.
"Nah! It's nothing to worry about," Brass replied.
"So why the delaying tactics?" Grissom asked.
"You probably aren't gonna like it," he answered, his 'you' directed at Grissom.
"But I will?" Catherine queried.
"You'll probably love it."
"Do you think you could tell us, Jim, the suspense is killing us here?" Grissom commented dryly, looking as unenthusiastic as he sounded.
"The latest letter makes a threat on Marc Weston's life."
"As death threats normally do," Catherine offered.
"This is more specific than the others. Where it says 'the final moment will be your last' we believe this is not just ramblings of a mad man, we think it means he's gonna strike at the premiere of "The Final Moment", the latest Bruckheimer blockbuster. A premiere Mr Weston is due to attend in three days time."
"Just how sadistic do you think I am?" Catherine asked, incredulously.
Brass frowned at her. "What?"
"Why would I love that?"
"Oh. That's not the part you'll love. The film was part filmed in Vegas, so the premiere is being held here - "
"Oh yeah," Catherine interrupted, "I saw something about that last night when we were at the theatre. Didn't pay much attention. Grissom, did you see - "
"You two were at the theatre? Together?" Brass smirked with raised eyebrows.
"It was Lindsey's birthday. When do we get to the part that she'll love and I won't?"
"Well, if you two would stop interrupting me and confusing me with talk of you going on dates - "
"It wasn't a date," they said in unison.
"Still with the interrupting!. Marc says he's not gonna let this stop him from going, so of course security will be stepped up and he'll have extra bodyguards et cetera, et cetera - "
"Jim! I'm sure you have a point!" Grissom said angrily.
"This is the morning's newspaper," he said dropping a tabloid paper onto the desk.
Grissom and Catherine both looked at it. The headline across the top read "Body Found in Bellagio Fountain".
"Oooh! Looks like the PR department didn't do as well as Warrick thought," Catherine commented.
"You want the other story."
They looked further down the page where a slightly smaller headline read 'When in Vegas.'. They continued to read the story which was about Marc Weston's 'new woman'. After a few seconds of silent reading, they both looked up and exclaimed:
"What?!"
"My initial reaction."
"Can I sue?" Catherine asked.
"Well, they haven't really said anything bad about you. You did used to be an exotic dancer, and you are a CSI."
"But I'm not dating Marc Weston!"
"But is being romantically linked to a movie star really defamation of character?"
Catherine shrugged. "I suppose not."
"I still feel like you haven't got to the point," Grissom spoke for the first time, having spent the rest of the time thinking about what the story said was going on between Catherine and Marc and fighting with the jealousy that stirred within him.
"Despite his anger that you are involved with the victim in one of your cases, the Sheriff . "
Grissom rolled his eyes at the mere mention of that man.
". thinks we can use it to our advantage. And Marc Weston has agreed to his plan. After he explained to the Sheriff that there isn't anything going on with you."
"It shouldn't have needed explaining. He should know better than to believe what he reads in the paper."
"She isn't doing it."
Brass turned to Grissom. "I knew you were gonna say that."
"I'll decide if I'm doing it."
"And I knew you were going to say that."
"I take it I'm to go to the premiere as Marc Weston's date?"
"That's right. That way we have someone with him at all times, and you'll be expected to be there. The rest of us can blend into the background."
Catherine smiled. "Hmm. Paid to go out with a movie star. Does that make me a prostitute?" she laughed.
Brass joined her laughter. "The date doesn't have to go that far. I'll be in touch with the details. In the meantime be aware that there may be reporters around, and you need to keep up the charade."
Catherine nodded and said goodbye to Brass as he left. Then she sat down in front of the desk and looked at Grissom who was wearing his 'I'm not happy about this' face.
"We're not using me as bait for a serial killer, I'll be fine. I'm just going to the movies. Nothing's gonna happen that wouldn't normally happen. Except for there being more actors and film producers there, it'll be just like last night."
"That's what I'm worried about."
TBC.