Part 2


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"I'm sorry," Katie said, as Catherine steered the Tahoe through the night.

"Don't apologise," came Catherine's swift response. "This is between me and Gil. It's not your fault." She sighed. "I should have told Gil sooner. I just…I never expected to see you again." Her eyes glanced at her daughter. "But I'm so glad I have." She pulled into the driveway. "I hope you like explosions."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I have no idea how Lindsey is going to take this."

Katie took a deep breath. "This is gonna be interesting."
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"SHE'S WHAT?" Lindsey cried. "YOU LIED TO ME!!"

"Nice explosion," Katie murmured.

Catherine glanced at her. "Not helping." She turned to Lindsey. "Sweetie, it happened a long time ago. I didn't think I'd ever see her again. And I didn't know if it was something you were ready to hear yet."

"I hate you!" Lindsey turned to Katie. "You can't take my mom! You can't have her!"

Kathryn slid to the floor and gripped Lindsey about the shoulders. "Snap out of it! Yeah, it sucks that I'm here, but I'm not here to take your place! Your mom loves you more than anything and you're lucky! Do you know how many kids out there would kill to be in your position!? So if you're going to hate someone, hate me. Your mom was just looking out for you. Get it!"

Lindsey stared at her for a moment. Catherine held her breath.

"I'm not here to be your sister if you don't want one." Katie smiled. "But you seem pretty cool, and I could always use another friend."

Lindsey narrowed her eyes. "Is this one of those weird psycho techniques?"

"Nope," Katie assured her. She put up her hand. "Scout's honour."

Lindsey groaned. "The other hand."
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Gil Grissom sat at his desk, staring blankly at the wall. He had never forgotten that one night he spent with Catherine. She had called him at one o'clock in the morning, and begged him to come and get her. He had been there in an instant.

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"We should get you to a hospital."

"No hospitals," Catherine groaned. "Just, please, take me to your place."

Gil got her there as quickly as he could. When he took her jacket off, he gasped at the bruises. "Catherine…"

"Can I have a bath?"

He smiled. "Of course you can." Walking into his bathroom he started the hot water running. He found the bubbles he kept especially for nights like these and poured some into the tub.

Catherine walked into the room and slipped her jacket off, wincing slightly. "Gil?"

He was there in an instant, gently helping her out of her jeans and t-shirt, bra and panties. He helped her into the bath, and watched as she sank into the warmth. His heart broke at the bruises that littered her body. She moaned with satisfaction as he took the washcloth and gently rubbed it across her back.

"That feels really good."

He never judged her, never begged her to leave Eddie. But he always wondered and some of the time, wished he could be Eddie. Just to hold her, make her happy.

"Gil?"

Her voice jolted him from his reverie. "Mhm?"

"Can I get out now? It's getting a bit cold."

He nodded and grabbed a fluffy towel. He helped her out, wrapping the towel gently around her and carefully rubbing her down. Finally he helped her into some old sweats and one of his shirts, and took her into his bedroom. Turning down the covers, he helped her slide between the sheets. He sat on the bed beside her and smiled.

"I don't deserve you," she murmured, a tear sliding down her cheek.

He wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Don't say that, Cath. You deserve the best."

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He remembered her begging him to take the pain away, telling him that she wanted to feel pleasure, not pain. He remembered doing his damndest to remain the gentleman, and not wanting to take advantage of her. Then his mind flashed forward and he remembered the feeling of her skin against his, of how it felt to be inside of her, to have her legs wrapped high around his hips, and to hear her tell him how good he made her feel. He remembered how it felt to hear her cry out in pleasure and watch her fall over that edge as he followed her over.

That night had been etched in his memory forever. And now, now to learn that he and Catherine had made a baby together…

While he was elated that there was a human being out there that was the perfect blend of himself and Catherine…he hated the fact he didn't watch her grow up. He didn't help Catherine through the pregnancy. He didn't watch her bump get bigger, and he couldn't feel the baby kicking. He wasn't at the birth; he didn't get up in the middle of the night. He hadn't smelt that new baby smell, or changed a diaper. He didn't see her first step, hear her first word, take her to school, and screen her boyfriends.

And as much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate Catherine. He hated not having done all those things, and not knowing about his daughter, but he couldn't hate Catherine. He loved her too much.

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Catherine balanced on a chair and pulled the shoebox from the top of her wardrobe. She blew the dust away, and sat on the bed. She lifted the lid and tenderly took out the pile of things inside.

The baby photo stared at her. Just born, a perfect seven pounds. Ten fingers, ten toes. A little button nose, and beautiful blue eyes. A small amount of strawberry blonde fuzz covered the head, and the little rosebud lips were opened in a yawn.

She looked at the next photo, which the nurse had taken. Catherine groaned as she looked at herself, exhausted, but her face lit up at the little bundle in her arms. She remembered the way her daughter had felt, remembered the newborn baby smell, and the softness of her skin.

Finally she fingered the little pink bonnet, the only thing of Kathryn's that she had kept. The only thing of Kathryn's that she had ever been given.

Catherine sighed and put the things back in the box. The only thing missing from that box was a photo of the proud new father. And the way things were going at the moment, there wasn't ever likely to be one.

She put the box back on the shelf and walked down the hallway to the guest room. She opened the door a crack and slipped inside. Catherine sat in the chair in the corner and watched Kathryn sleep. She couldn't get over the similarities between herself, Gil and this amazing human being. Her eyes traced the contours of her face, from the hair that had blossomed into shoulder length, and those ten toes, which weren't quite so little anymore. She wondered if she had done the right thing, giving her up and her heart ached for the moments missed.

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Catherine walked into work the next night, her head held high. She was going to have lunch with her daughter and she refused to let Grissom's behaviour get her down. Lindsey was spending the night at a friend's.

"Nick, Sara, db at the Strip. Warrick, car through pylons and Catherine, b and e at Drenda's crafts. I will be catching up on paperwork."

Catherine looked at the slip of paper he gave her. "You're kidding me."

"What do you mean?"

"A b and e? It's been a while since you've been pissed off enough to give one of those to me." She folded her arms. "Could this be to do with the news that came out last night?"

"Catherine…" Gil looked pointedly at the rest of the team.

"No, I think they should know. The girl that was here last night is our daughter. Ours and Gil's." She walked up to him. "I understand you're pissed at me, but I didn't think you'd bring it to work." With that, she stalked out of the room, leaving the younger CSI's standing there, mouths wide.

"Grissom…" Sara began.

"Come on Sara, let's go," Nick said, taking her arm and tugging her out of the room.

Warrick stared at Grissom for a moment. "Griss…"

"Go to your scene, Warrick," Grissom bit out, leaving the room.

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Part 3