Eccentric Seeming Emotions Chapter 1: Lonely, a csi fanfic

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully by now everybody knows: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway; for b8kworm and Sun Mee who give me nothing but support. For Mark, I count everyday of my life with you in it as a blessing; always remember that. For the people who do or ought to belong to nagging.com - Angie, Manda, Marianne, and Rita. Will you ever cut me some slack? Thanks, Mena, for the song. Many, many thanks to Beth for permission to use Bleak; we did it! Thank you for inspiring me. There is no chronological order to these chapters; consider it a stream-of-thought.

Summary: Tonight, something had changed and he sincerely cursed the near perfect memory that made his job easier while his heart became a wrenched mess.

Rating: PG-13

Archives: the Graveyard, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): G/C

Spoiler(s): None.

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Title: Eccentric Seeming Emotions

Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaetayahoo.com

Chapter 1: Lonely (Pristine Memories)

Bleak and lonely, the depths of one's soul.

Sometimes he cursed his near perfect memory, honed by years of skill, training, and habit. At those same times, he hated his attention to detail that kept memories fresh in his mind. Then he would regret his tendency of aloofness towards life in general. Finally, he would come full circle and remember why she was no longer merely a phone call or a short drive away, and he would rail against the almost photographic quality of the pictures behind his eyes.

He could recall the relaxed set of her shoulders as she readied for another shift as a criminalist. He could trace the curve of her back from memory as well as from dreams but never in reality. The cock of her hip fascinated him as she would turn away from the coffee machine and towards the comfortable embrace of a chair. The shift of her hair as she conferred all her attention to him when he entered the room to distribute the night's assignments. Night after night, the same routine and nobody else ever noticed.

Sometimes it changed when she made him coffee. Once in a while, she would stroll into his office some time before the official start of their shift and hand him that steaming cup of caffeinated beans. Then they would share a few minutes of companionable silence before she spoke her mind. He could not count the times she shocked him with bouts of thoughtfulness and a gentle, subtle sort of strength. Moments like those, before shift, settled him like nothing had before and unnerved him like nothing else.

And who could forget the way their gaits matched as they walked side by side. He probably never would understand the skip of his heart as they moved together towards yet another crime scene. A slight alternation in the air besides him was the only information he needed to know who occupied that space and time to his side. Within a nanosecond, he would know her mood by the manner of her breathing. It was automatic that he would attempt to comfort, to assuage, to understand, and to encourage.

Never would he consider trying to temper her emotions; she lived in a world of feeling, flying from one sensation to the next - that was her nature. He envied her versatility. Next to her constant companionship, he valued her brutal honesty. Truth be told, he was embarrassed to realize, without it, he would rarely remember the realm of emotions. He was honored that she chose to reveal that facet of herself to him, however ironic it may seem.

Long and hard, he considered the revelation of another facet of hers - the heartbreaking look of desperation and vulnerability. In those moments, her biggest strength was his physical being and his control, which he gave gladly. Without reservation, he watched as his closest friend emerged from his cocooned protection a butterfly with vivid brilliance. Her troubles were gone and conquered, she exuded confidence and grace; the men around her struggled to remain indifferent. Those she included in her life found themselves wanting to secure this newfound beauty and who could blame them?

Then, there was him. With her protection safely in others' hands, where did that leave him? Above all else, he wanted to embrace her into his very soul so nothing more could ever harm the fragile strength of his friend. He needed to bring light and fire back into her life and a quietly voiced instinct told him love was the answer. He hoped to find the courage to love her.

However, feeling was what brought him trouble so he relied more strongly on the evidence of the five senses. He could see the light that he remembered so fondly return for brief moments whenever she spoke of her daughter. No one could doubt the special love between mother and daughter existed and would endure over time. No matter how he arrived, he concluded the same: love was what she needed and that scared him completely.

Now, he no longer had to worry about her happiness. This evening, she walked into his office and the light was burning so lovely in her eyes. How he made it through the past ten hours he would never know, but he felt the magnitude of his lonesome years. All encompassing desolation and loss filled his psyche; he sighed and resigned himself to the resurfacing of various other memories from this past decade or so.

Tonight, something had changed and he sincerely cursed the near perfect memory that made his job easier while his heart became a wrenched mess.