Disclaimer: see chapter one
Chapter Nine
"Come on! We've only got a few hours before we have to start work!" Catherine grumbled as she modelled the third out of nine outfits for the third time.
"I think I liked the seventh one," Lindsey stated with a thoughtful nod.
"Which was that?" Grissom asked, turning to the young girl sitting beside him.
"The pink one."
"The one with the huge white flower across the back?"
"No! The other pink one. The deep pink. If she wore the one with the flower she'd be absolutely useless if anyone did try to attack Marc Weston at the premiere," Lindsey said quietly, shaking her head.
"Wasn't the deep pink one the sixth one?" Grissom frowned.
"No! The grey one was the sixth one."
"Oh! I didn't like the grey one."
"No! Ew! That was horrible!" Lindsey agreed. "Marc would dump her on the spot if she wore that one!"
"Do you think you two could agree on which one you do like? Then we could buy it and get out of here," Catherine sighed.
"Catherine, a movie premiere is a big event, you can't just wear any old outfit," Grissom smirked. "You have to look nice remember."
Catherine narrowed her eyes with annoyance as she remembered the source of this comment. Brass had phoned her to let her know the details of the undercover work, and as well as times and places, he was instructed by the Sheriff to also tell her to go and buy a new dress - and to "make sure it was a nice one". The implication that anything she would choose might not be nice did not sit well with her. In fact part of her wanted to buy the grey dress, just to annoy the Sheriff.
"What about the fifth one?" Grissom asked.
"I didn't like that one," Catherine replied.
"Why not?"
"It wasn't. comfortable. And it made me look like a prostitute."
"No that was the third one!"
"This is the third one!" she cried, indicating the dress she was wearing.
"Oh. I quite like that one. Lindsey?"
"The pink one," Lindsey stated folding her arms to show she wasn't going to change her mind.
"Okay. Let's see the pink one again. Not the one with the flower!"
"This is the last one!" Catherine growled walking back into the booth.
"Spoilsport!" Grissom called after her, sharing a laugh with Lindsey as they heard Catherine mumbling about having to try so many outfits on and how "they might be finding it fun, but they didn't have to keep taking their clothes off".
A few amusing minutes later Catherine snatched back the curtain and emerged from the booth in a deep pink ankle length dress, split almost all the way along the front of her left leg - ideal for running in should any trouble start. The top of the dress was fitted, with two thin straps on each shoulder, and it hugged her figure perfectly.
Lindsey grinned and nodded triumphantly, then both women turned to Grissom expectantly. He tilted his head to one side, and then to the other, his expression showing that he was studying what he saw very carefully - the way he studied evidence at a crime scene, except with more adoration and appreciation.
"Gil!" Catherine warned.
Grissom smiled. "I like it."
"Finally!" she exclaimed.
"You like it?" Lindsey frowned.
Grissom and Catherine looked to her, confused by her comment.
"You just 'like' it? You need to invest in a dictionary," she said, smiling sweetly so they knew she was joking.
"Sorry," Grissom said, turning back to Catherine. His eyes trailed down to Catherine's feet, then slowly back up to her face, which, he noticed, was a little flushed.
She shifted uncomfortably under his almost predatory gaze. "Gil?!"
"I." he paused as if trying to think of a better word, ". love it?"
Lindsey rolled her eyes.
"Adore it?"
She shook her head in despair, then leaned over to him and whispered something in his ear. Catherine strained to listen but couldn't hear a thing.
"Hey! It's rude to whisper!" she reprimanded light-heartedly.
Grissom smiled slightly at what Lindsey had said then looked at Catherine and said:
"It's beautiful."
Lindsey cleared her throat, very loudly, and Grissom smiled again and said:
"You are beautiful."
Catherine smiled in appreciation, giggling to herself at the fact that Lindsey had told him to say that.
Lindsey cleared her throat again, glaring at Grissom, who quickly turned back to Catherine.
"In fact, you look drop dead gorgeous."
Lindsey winked at her mum, who laughed - both at the situation and at the discomfort on Grissom's face.
"Thank you," Catherine said, "I'd take it as a compliment if she hadn't had to tell you to say it!"
Grissom turned to Lindsey as if for help.
Lindsey shrugged. "Erm, I need to go to the bathroom." And she was gone.
Catherine laughed again, but returned her serious expression when Grissom turned round to face her once more.
"She didn't have to tell me to say that," he tried, the heat of her eyes boring into him making him very nervous.
"That's not what it looked like. You weren't too hot with the compliments 'til she intervened," she teased, still maintaining her serious look. " 'I like it', 'I love it', 'I adore it' " she quoted.
"They were not all I came up with," he said quietly.
"Well, they were all you said, so how would I know otherwise?"
"My actual thoughts weren't - " he began. Then he stopped and changed his approach. "I didn't want to say in front of Lindsey."
Catherine raised her eyebrows. "I'm intrigued. She isn't here now. You gonna share?"
"I don - "
"Gil! If you don't tell me, I'll always think that you couldn't think of anything nice to say."
Emotional blackmail. She knew it was wrong, but it worked every time.
"I think you look very sexy in that dress."
This time she had to smile. "Thank you. You could have said that in front of Lindsey, she's heard the word sexy before."
Grissom shrugged.
"Gil?" Catherine said, interpreting his expression to mean there was something he wasn't telling her.
"Yes?"
"What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, right! Spill!. Did Lindsey give you that 'sexy' compliment too?"
"No."
She intensified her staring at him.
"No! That's what I thought when you drew the curtain back."
She softened slightly, but eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"That's exactly what you thought when I drew back the curtain?" she asked, with a small smile, knowing that this question would get him. There was something else he wasn't saying, and this should draw it out of him. He wouldn't lie to her. A carefully worded question was all it took.
Grissom inwardly cursed whoever taught her the art of interrogation, and quietly muttered:
"No."
"No?"
"That wasn't exactly what I thought."
Catherine resisted the urge to smile in triumph. "Oh. So, what did you think?" she asked softly.
"Cath, I -"
"Grissom," she said, seriously, leaning forward and resting her hands either side of him on the arms of his chair. "Before we kissed ourselves into this strange bubble of awkwardness and politeness, would you have found it this difficult to tell me what you thought?"
Desperately fighting the natural male inclination to look at her breasts, which were in the bottom of his area of vision, neatly held in perfect form by the dress, Grissom answered:
"Probably not."
"Then tell me!. I don't know about you, Gil, but I'm sick of this. We can't let it ruin our friendship. If you could have told me three days ago, then tell me now!"
"You look so sexy in that dress, that I'm pretty sure no one at that premiere will be watching the movie," he stated, obediently.
Catherine felt herself blush at his comment, as her breath caught for a split second at the unexpectedness of this compliment.
"Wow!" Grissom exclaimed.
Catherine smiled, "What?"
"I did it again."
Catherine laughed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I was just. a little taken aback. I didn't expect. that."
"You told me to tell you."
"I know. And thank you," she smiled.
As she felt a familiar silence descending upon them, Catherine stood up straight.
"I should get changed, else we're gonna be late for work."
Grissom nodded slowly. "I suppose you should," he said, sounding a little disappointed.
Catherine glanced back to him, looking at him curiously. He smiled, innocently, and she smiled back then disappeared into the changing booth.
*****
"Now you two are gonna have to decide what you're having faster than you decided on the dress. We haven't got all night," Catherine ordered as they were settling at their table in the restaurant.
"I don't see why you were complaining, I thought you liked shopping," Grissom commented.
"I do. But I don't like repeatedly trying on the same outfits while two observers study me like I'm some sort of blood spatter."
"Now you know how the blood spatter feels," Grissom threw in, opening his menu, and refusing to see the look she was giving him.
A young waitress approached their table, and they all looked up to greet her.
"Would you like to hear tonight's specials?" she asked.
At their affirmative response she proceeded to list several delicious sounding dishes, then waited patiently as her customers considered their order.
"I think I might have the salmon," Catherine mused, studying her menu.
Grissom glanced at Lindsey, then turned to the waitress and said:
"Could we hear the fourth one again, please?"
Lindsey's giggling broke out immediately, and was soon joined by Grissom's own chuckling. Catherine shook her head, apologised to the waitress and asked her to give them a few minutes to decide. The young lady left them, frowning, but smiling.
Catherine glared at Grissom and Lindsey who did manage to stop laughing, but only for a millisecond then they started again.
"I can't take you anywhere," she mumbled, only allowing herself to smile when she was suitably hidden behind her menu.
TBC.
Chapter Nine
"Come on! We've only got a few hours before we have to start work!" Catherine grumbled as she modelled the third out of nine outfits for the third time.
"I think I liked the seventh one," Lindsey stated with a thoughtful nod.
"Which was that?" Grissom asked, turning to the young girl sitting beside him.
"The pink one."
"The one with the huge white flower across the back?"
"No! The other pink one. The deep pink. If she wore the one with the flower she'd be absolutely useless if anyone did try to attack Marc Weston at the premiere," Lindsey said quietly, shaking her head.
"Wasn't the deep pink one the sixth one?" Grissom frowned.
"No! The grey one was the sixth one."
"Oh! I didn't like the grey one."
"No! Ew! That was horrible!" Lindsey agreed. "Marc would dump her on the spot if she wore that one!"
"Do you think you two could agree on which one you do like? Then we could buy it and get out of here," Catherine sighed.
"Catherine, a movie premiere is a big event, you can't just wear any old outfit," Grissom smirked. "You have to look nice remember."
Catherine narrowed her eyes with annoyance as she remembered the source of this comment. Brass had phoned her to let her know the details of the undercover work, and as well as times and places, he was instructed by the Sheriff to also tell her to go and buy a new dress - and to "make sure it was a nice one". The implication that anything she would choose might not be nice did not sit well with her. In fact part of her wanted to buy the grey dress, just to annoy the Sheriff.
"What about the fifth one?" Grissom asked.
"I didn't like that one," Catherine replied.
"Why not?"
"It wasn't. comfortable. And it made me look like a prostitute."
"No that was the third one!"
"This is the third one!" she cried, indicating the dress she was wearing.
"Oh. I quite like that one. Lindsey?"
"The pink one," Lindsey stated folding her arms to show she wasn't going to change her mind.
"Okay. Let's see the pink one again. Not the one with the flower!"
"This is the last one!" Catherine growled walking back into the booth.
"Spoilsport!" Grissom called after her, sharing a laugh with Lindsey as they heard Catherine mumbling about having to try so many outfits on and how "they might be finding it fun, but they didn't have to keep taking their clothes off".
A few amusing minutes later Catherine snatched back the curtain and emerged from the booth in a deep pink ankle length dress, split almost all the way along the front of her left leg - ideal for running in should any trouble start. The top of the dress was fitted, with two thin straps on each shoulder, and it hugged her figure perfectly.
Lindsey grinned and nodded triumphantly, then both women turned to Grissom expectantly. He tilted his head to one side, and then to the other, his expression showing that he was studying what he saw very carefully - the way he studied evidence at a crime scene, except with more adoration and appreciation.
"Gil!" Catherine warned.
Grissom smiled. "I like it."
"Finally!" she exclaimed.
"You like it?" Lindsey frowned.
Grissom and Catherine looked to her, confused by her comment.
"You just 'like' it? You need to invest in a dictionary," she said, smiling sweetly so they knew she was joking.
"Sorry," Grissom said, turning back to Catherine. His eyes trailed down to Catherine's feet, then slowly back up to her face, which, he noticed, was a little flushed.
She shifted uncomfortably under his almost predatory gaze. "Gil?!"
"I." he paused as if trying to think of a better word, ". love it?"
Lindsey rolled her eyes.
"Adore it?"
She shook her head in despair, then leaned over to him and whispered something in his ear. Catherine strained to listen but couldn't hear a thing.
"Hey! It's rude to whisper!" she reprimanded light-heartedly.
Grissom smiled slightly at what Lindsey had said then looked at Catherine and said:
"It's beautiful."
Lindsey cleared her throat, very loudly, and Grissom smiled again and said:
"You are beautiful."
Catherine smiled in appreciation, giggling to herself at the fact that Lindsey had told him to say that.
Lindsey cleared her throat again, glaring at Grissom, who quickly turned back to Catherine.
"In fact, you look drop dead gorgeous."
Lindsey winked at her mum, who laughed - both at the situation and at the discomfort on Grissom's face.
"Thank you," Catherine said, "I'd take it as a compliment if she hadn't had to tell you to say it!"
Grissom turned to Lindsey as if for help.
Lindsey shrugged. "Erm, I need to go to the bathroom." And she was gone.
Catherine laughed again, but returned her serious expression when Grissom turned round to face her once more.
"She didn't have to tell me to say that," he tried, the heat of her eyes boring into him making him very nervous.
"That's not what it looked like. You weren't too hot with the compliments 'til she intervened," she teased, still maintaining her serious look. " 'I like it', 'I love it', 'I adore it' " she quoted.
"They were not all I came up with," he said quietly.
"Well, they were all you said, so how would I know otherwise?"
"My actual thoughts weren't - " he began. Then he stopped and changed his approach. "I didn't want to say in front of Lindsey."
Catherine raised her eyebrows. "I'm intrigued. She isn't here now. You gonna share?"
"I don - "
"Gil! If you don't tell me, I'll always think that you couldn't think of anything nice to say."
Emotional blackmail. She knew it was wrong, but it worked every time.
"I think you look very sexy in that dress."
This time she had to smile. "Thank you. You could have said that in front of Lindsey, she's heard the word sexy before."
Grissom shrugged.
"Gil?" Catherine said, interpreting his expression to mean there was something he wasn't telling her.
"Yes?"
"What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, right! Spill!. Did Lindsey give you that 'sexy' compliment too?"
"No."
She intensified her staring at him.
"No! That's what I thought when you drew the curtain back."
She softened slightly, but eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"That's exactly what you thought when I drew back the curtain?" she asked, with a small smile, knowing that this question would get him. There was something else he wasn't saying, and this should draw it out of him. He wouldn't lie to her. A carefully worded question was all it took.
Grissom inwardly cursed whoever taught her the art of interrogation, and quietly muttered:
"No."
"No?"
"That wasn't exactly what I thought."
Catherine resisted the urge to smile in triumph. "Oh. So, what did you think?" she asked softly.
"Cath, I -"
"Grissom," she said, seriously, leaning forward and resting her hands either side of him on the arms of his chair. "Before we kissed ourselves into this strange bubble of awkwardness and politeness, would you have found it this difficult to tell me what you thought?"
Desperately fighting the natural male inclination to look at her breasts, which were in the bottom of his area of vision, neatly held in perfect form by the dress, Grissom answered:
"Probably not."
"Then tell me!. I don't know about you, Gil, but I'm sick of this. We can't let it ruin our friendship. If you could have told me three days ago, then tell me now!"
"You look so sexy in that dress, that I'm pretty sure no one at that premiere will be watching the movie," he stated, obediently.
Catherine felt herself blush at his comment, as her breath caught for a split second at the unexpectedness of this compliment.
"Wow!" Grissom exclaimed.
Catherine smiled, "What?"
"I did it again."
Catherine laughed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I was just. a little taken aback. I didn't expect. that."
"You told me to tell you."
"I know. And thank you," she smiled.
As she felt a familiar silence descending upon them, Catherine stood up straight.
"I should get changed, else we're gonna be late for work."
Grissom nodded slowly. "I suppose you should," he said, sounding a little disappointed.
Catherine glanced back to him, looking at him curiously. He smiled, innocently, and she smiled back then disappeared into the changing booth.
*****
"Now you two are gonna have to decide what you're having faster than you decided on the dress. We haven't got all night," Catherine ordered as they were settling at their table in the restaurant.
"I don't see why you were complaining, I thought you liked shopping," Grissom commented.
"I do. But I don't like repeatedly trying on the same outfits while two observers study me like I'm some sort of blood spatter."
"Now you know how the blood spatter feels," Grissom threw in, opening his menu, and refusing to see the look she was giving him.
A young waitress approached their table, and they all looked up to greet her.
"Would you like to hear tonight's specials?" she asked.
At their affirmative response she proceeded to list several delicious sounding dishes, then waited patiently as her customers considered their order.
"I think I might have the salmon," Catherine mused, studying her menu.
Grissom glanced at Lindsey, then turned to the waitress and said:
"Could we hear the fourth one again, please?"
Lindsey's giggling broke out immediately, and was soon joined by Grissom's own chuckling. Catherine shook her head, apologised to the waitress and asked her to give them a few minutes to decide. The young lady left them, frowning, but smiling.
Catherine glared at Grissom and Lindsey who did manage to stop laughing, but only for a millisecond then they started again.
"I can't take you anywhere," she mumbled, only allowing herself to smile when she was suitably hidden behind her menu.
TBC.