Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Author's Notes: I tried to get everything to make sense for this chapter. I don't know how successful turned out to be, but I guess I'll let you judge that. Any mistakes made are directly related to a lack of sleep, I'm running on empty here. To make it worse, I'm about to get bumped up to 12 hour shifts (excluding the O/T we always end up doing) so if I don't sound coherent, it's probably because I'm not.
Jenny
Three:
"If it's okay with you, I'm just going to head home, I'm exhausted." Catherine said through a yawn as she closed the file for the case she had been working on, "Warrick's going to meet with the victim's wife, Brass is working on tracking down bank statements and phone records, and there's nothing else I can do right now that I can't do tonight."
Grissom nodded, taking the folder from her, "Sure, we've got a couple hours left, but it's been a slow night. Get some rest, you look like death warmed over. I'll send Warrick home in one piece, I promise."
"You better." Catherine retorted with a smile, standing and stretching, "See you this evening."
"You too, be careful."
Catherine walked through the lab, stopping by the AV lab, where Warrick was trying to adjust some photos to get a better view of the camera angle, "Sweetie, I'm going home."
"Already? We've still got 4 hours left." Warrick questioned, his eyes warm with concern, "Are you alright?"
Catherine nodded, yawning once more, "Just sleepy. Wake me when you get home, and maybe we'll dress up and do that thing you like to do."
"With the red nightie?" Warrick asked, his image analysis forgotten as his lover gained his full attention, "And the shoes?"
Catherine leaned forward to kiss his cheek, moving to his earlobe and nibbling it softly, her hand caressing the back of his head gently, "Anything you want, baby. Hurry home."
"Believe me, being late will not be an issue." Warrick growled as Catherine slid her fingertips down his arm gently and made her way to the door, "Love you."
"Love you too." Catherine said softly with a smile, shutting the door behind her.
The drive home was peaceful and quiet, which usually soothed Catherine and helped her unwind before she got home, but tonight it only brought her closer to falling asleep behind the wheel. She had never been quite so relieved to pull into her apartment complex, and suddenly she was grateful they had opted for the first floor apartment, she wasn't sure she would be able to make it upstairs.
After relieving the babysitter, she walked past Lindsey's room, cracking the door open enough to see her daughter was asleep, then sleepily walked into her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on one of Warrick's t-shirts, falling onto the bed and drifting to sleep without even unmaking the bed. Covers could wait until Warrick got home and forced her to sleep 'right' in the bed.
Sara stretched out on her sofa, laying in her right side as she mindlessly flipped through the channels on tv. Grissom had tried to call her into work earlier that evening, saying Nick had called in (which she already knew) and he would be short-handed unless she or Greg came in. She had refused, not in the mood to do anything other than mope, and she assumed he had called in Greg.
She had come home from the airport only to find two dozen red roses sitting on her doorstep, a card inside reading 'I was wrong, I spoke before I thought, and I don't blame you for being mad at me. I'm a real jackass sometimes, but I hate when we fight. Call me. Love-Greg'.
She had put the roses on her kitchen table in an attempt to brighten up the dark room, and had tossed the card in a box of keepsakes she had kept from all of her and Greg's 'dates'. She knew it was a very 'high school' thing to do, but she always reminded herself that Greg may be the one (just as Hank had, and Jared from San Fran, and Patrick from Harvard, and even Danton from high school) and if he turned out to be the man she married and spent her life with, she'd want momentos to show to their children.
Sappy? Yes. Lame? Definitely, but it was one silly habit she started with her first boyfriend at the age of 15 that she hadn't been able to stop, nor really wanted to. One day, it would pay off, and until then, it reminded her of the good times she had shared with people close to her.
She was still upset about her fight with Greg, she couldn't deny it if she tried, but she was also tense and worried about Nick going to confront his parents. Combined, it created a knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, one that a 6-pack of Coors Light and a pint of Half Baked ice cream hadn't been able to cure, even after she tried both out with reruns of various CourtTV detective shows.
Now, she was flipping through infomercials and music videos, trying to find something (besides the Flip'n'Grip, which actually looked pretty neat) to keep her attention long enough to be a distraction.
Somewhere around 5 am, she finally fell asleep while watching a rerun of I love the 80's and groaning at some of thing "in" things from that era, ice cream still in hand.
Nick laid in his old bedroom, which hadn't changed a bit since he was 17 years old. Outdated rock posters decorated one wall, mixed in with football posters and sports memorabilia. On another, a corkboard filled with high school pictures and memories of his younger years. His dresser was pushed up against the same wall, books and college brochures still where he had left them so many years ago. It made him a little leery of sleeping in his old bed, even though his mother had insisted she had washed the sheets since his high school glory days.
He rolled onto his stomach and lifted the edge of his mattress, chuckling slightly when he saw his dirty magazines were will there, hidden inside of the box spring. He pulled them out, walking to his suitcase and slipping them in as a hand-me-down gift for Greg. Those magazines were probably about as old as the lab tech-turned-csi was, they had been given to him by his older brother when he outgrew them (or got a better stash).
His parents had asked him not to bring up Jessica for the night, they'd talk about her in the morning. Instead, they visited like old times, his mother cooked his favorite meal, they filled him in on the family news, and showed him tons of pictures of Karen's baby. His brother and sisters who lived in town came to visit for dessert, each expressing their joy to see him, and relief that he was watching Jessica, in their own way.
Steven, the oldest, had given him a firm hug, telling him that he was proud of his baby brother for being such a grown up. Nick had wanted to slap him, as if up until now he had been playing at the park and eating at Chuckie Cheese's every night? No matter how old Nick had been, Steven had always had a way of making him feel about 4 inches tall and as dumb as a rock. Tonight had been no exception. Steven felt since he was a executive officer at some stupid law firm in Dallas, he was better than the younger CSI.
Melanie, next in line, had told Nicky that she was happy to see him (You don't come by enough to visit), that he had lost some weight (What? Don't they have barbeque in Nevada?), and expressed interest in his love life (Well, you aren't getting any younger, and unless you've got gold hidden somewhere, you better start settling for what you can get. Someone's got to carry on the Stokes' name, and it's not just up to Steven.). She carefully avoided the topic of their sister who was miserable and alone in jail at the moment, and remained bubbly and annoying the entire evening.
Nicole had given him a huge hug and told him how proud she was for him to stick up for Jess and be something stable in her life when she needed him. He had told her that he was his responsibility, since no one else wanted to stand up for her, and Nicole had been the only Stokes sibling to look sympathetic and remorseful. She had promised to come by and visit, and had given him a package to bring to their sister once he returned home.
Hailey had given a huge fake smile and unfriendly hug to her brother, only to keep up appearances, but everyone knew she was against violence, no matter who had committed the crime, no matter what the reasons were. No crime committed out of anger was justified or forgivable, and she made it clear that she no longer considered Jessica part of the family, while encouraging the rest to do so also.
Laying in his room, enjoying the silence, Nick realized why he had moved away to begin with. If he had stayed, he may have killed someone as well, but it definitely would not have been an in-law, it would have been one of their own.
Tomorrow was coming up too quickly, and as eager as he had been to confront his parents and family about their lack of support, the closer the time came, the more he started to dread the whole ordeal. He knew it would be just another sleepless night to add on to the list, he would be too worked up to fall asleep, and if he did manage to get some rest, he'd probably be plagued with nightmares.
After all, wasn't his current life just one big nightmare?
Warrick entered his bedroom, stretching as he unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his belt. Catherine still laid sprawled across the bed, face down, her chest slowly rising in and out, oblivious to the other person in the room. Changing into the shorts he wore every night to bed, he nudged her gently, "Cath? Baby, wake up."
"Go away." Catherine mumbled, barely moving, "I'm sleeping."
Warrick ran his fingers lightly up her back, "Cath, it's time to get under the covers, you'll freeze to death on top of them."
"I'm fine." Catherine mumbled in response, batting his hand away.
Warrick brushed the hair from her face, "Well, I'll freeze. You can go back to sleep in a minute, okay? I'll even let you slide on the red nightie for tonight."
"Oh, alright." Catherine moaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly as he pulled back the sheet and comforter, motioning for her to get under. They snuggled close together, her back against his chest with his arm draped over her side, her blonde hair slightly tickling as nose and giving his senses the strong scent of strawberry from her shampoo.
"God, I love you so much. I look forward to you being here every morning." Warrick moaned, letting the hand that was around her waist roam slightly down her leg, "I never knew how much I'd like having someone sharing my bed every night."
Catherine smiled, slowly waking up, "I love being here with you too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, romantically speaking. Why didn't we do this sooner?"
"That's the question of the year, Cath, baby." Warrick murmured, bringing his hand to rest again at her waist, "I miss doing other things with you...besides just sleeping."
Catherine rolled her eyes sleepily, "While Lindsey's gone, we will, okay? It's only been two days."
"Two days too many." Warrick moaned, squeezing her gently, "Goodnight."
"Night." Catherine yawned, closing her eyes and letting herself give back in to the darkness that had been calling her name.
The next time she awoke, the clock said 10:25 am, and the first thing she realized was that whatever she had eaten for dinner, at the moment she didn't care to remember, was about to make a return appearance. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she quietly, yet quickly, made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and falling to her knees in front of the toilet, her body already sore and drenched with sweat.
Warrick felt the bed shift when she laid back down 15 minutes later, her body trembling slightly, even more tired now than she had been during shift. "You okay?" He asked worriedly, "You need anything?"
Catherine moaned in response, curling into a ball and shaking her head tiredly, "I think I caught a virus or something, I'll be okay."
"You didn't sound okay." Warrick commented, "You're shaking, Cath."
Catherine pulled the covers around her tighter, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and enjoy dreamland, "It's cold in the rest of the apartment. I'm tired, I'm going back to sleep."
"I can take you to the doctor, if you-" Warrick started to suggest, but stopped when Catherine rolled over to give him a hard glare. "Okay, okay I give. I know when not to fight, believe it or not."
Catherine gave him a tired half-smile and moved over so she could be close to him once again, inhaling deeply the scent of his aftershave. Just his presence was enough to calm her down, and although she was glad for the real thing, she had been known to sleep on his pillows when he didn't come home after shift, working on a case or something, just because his scent calmed her enough to lull her to sleep. Of course, the added bonus of a gentle back massage made everything a lot more sensual and sweet when he was there.
Warrick wrapped an arm around Catherine, happy to be in this relationship. He had been in relationships before, but never one with this much responsibility, this much commitment. He had been scared at first, but after getting used to the routine with Catherine and Lindsey, he couldn't imagine life being any different.
Greg walked in to Sara's apartment, quietly shutting the door behind him. He was relieved to see the roses sitting on the table, which meant she hadn't thrown them out, and wasn't too surprised to see the TV on, the volume turned down low, set on VH-1. He turned the TV off, picking up the empty beer cans and ice cream accessories from the coffee table, as well as the ice cream container that had fallen to the floor at some point during the night.
He had been upset earlier, and he knew he had crossed a line. He had been hoping Sara would still be awake, although if she would have been, it would have meant he had made her so angry that she couldn't calm down enough to sleep, which would have probably made problems worse. He had been thinking about her all night at work, so much to where Grissom had practically forced him to leave an hour early just so he'd stop moping. He couldn't say he was disappointed, he practically ran out of the lab and drove as fast as he could back to Sara's apartment, eager to just see her, even if it was in sleep.
Once he was sure the living room was tidy, he crouched down and lifted his sleeping girlfriend into his arm, soothingly whispering for her to go back to sleep once she started to stir. He laid her in bed, covering her with her blanket, then pulled off his clothes, rummaging through a drawer until he found a pair of sweat pants he had left at her apartment to change in. Slipping them on, he crawled in bed next to Sara, smiling as she curled to face him, their hands intertwining in the process. Hopefully, just hopefully, she wouldn't start yelling when she woke up.
With one hand holding hers, the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer, Greg let his eyes close and fell asleep alongside of her, knowing there was no place he'd rather be. He may have to fight to get her to talk to him once they were both awake, but he'd get the words out to apologize, and they'd move on. That's what friends did, and above all else, they were still best friends. Best friends who date, as Sara categorized it. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get his gigantic foot out of his mouth once and awhile, they'd be Best friends who date and fool around a bit. But, like he had always been told, 'Good things come to those who wait'. And he wasn't going anywhere.
TBC
