A/N: This fic takes place during "A Little Murder" and contains Spoilers for that episode as well as a few lines about "The Accused is Entitled" both from Season Three. As always I don't own Cath or Warrick, or any of the others (including Haviland). Pairing is Cath and Warrick (if you couldn't tell). R&R and enjoy!

Warrick Brown was pissed. He was pissed at the rookie cop who'd let it happen. Pissed at himself for not being there when Catherine needed him. Pissed most of all at the fact that he'd almost lost Catherine after only a month of dating. Yes, they'd been dating for about a month. The best month of his life. How did this happen you ask? Well, during the Tom Haviland case, she'd found him it the locker room, thoroughly frustrated, after he'd completely blown his testimony, and had succeeded in calming him down. Then, after Grissom had saved the day, Catherine had suggested going out to celebrate. But, Sara being Sara, she'd declined, Nick had a date with his latest girl, and well, Grissom was Grissom. Warrick, realizing that as a single mother who worked graveyard, Catherine just wanted the excuse to get out once in a blue moon, had given in to the desperation that had made its way in to her voice by the time she'd gotten to him, and resigned him self to the fact that he was going to get to spend time with her instead of sitting at home being bored out of his wits. Alas poor Warrick. So, they'd spent the morning talking and laughing at a diner, and because it was only the two of them, they learned a lot about each other. They'd agreed that they both wanted to do it again sometime soon, settling on the following Saturday. Well, Saturday morning, end of shift, he'd found her in the locker room on the verge of tears. "I'm really sorry 'rick. I can't go. I couldn't find a babysitter and my mom's out of town and... Can I take a rain check?" She'd pleaded, the disappointment in her eyes and her voice making him laugh. "It's not funny Warrick!"

"Cath, why can't we just take Linds to a movie or something? I'm sure she'd like that better than sitting home all day. Not to mention you probably want out of the house too."

The look of gratitude she'd given him would have made piercing himself with a needle worth it. So, they'd watched Freaky Friday, Warrick actually enjoying watching Catherine smile at her daughter's enjoyment of the movie, and had way too much pizza. Monday evening, he'd found a note in his locker.

'rick,

I can't begin to tell you how much it meant to me to spend such a great afternoon with you and Lindsey. Lately she's been spending more and more of her "fun" time with her dad, and I've been feeling guilty. She's already asking when we can do it again. I told her I'd have to see. Next time, I promise it'll be just you and me though, no matter how much she begs. Again, I can't begin to thank you enough.

Cath

When she'd gotten her stuff out of her locker that morning, she'd found a note of her own.

Cath,

The note says it all and is thanks enough for me. What do you say to a movie, say, Friday before shift? Tell Lindsey we'll definitely do the movie thing again, but after I get her mother to myself again.

'rick

And it went on like that, alternating actual dates with "Lindsey days", the notes becoming a normal thing. She'd even begun signing hers with hearts. Oh yeah, Warrick was definitely in heaven.

However, back on Earth, Warrick found himself bitching out the rookie who'd almost gotten his girl killed.

"When you clear a place, you clear it! We lost a CSI two years ago because of the same mistake."

"Warrick, ease up. It was my fault. I sent him out."

"Use your radio and call for back up" He said before the amount of guilt in her voice turned his attention back to Catherine and calmed him down.

"Hey" she said realizing she hadn't greeted him yet.

"You okay?" He asked noticing the gash on her forehead and gingerly reached up to brush her hair out of the wound.

"Don't touch me." She said, so definitively that he nearly jumped. "I'm evidence," she explained.

Outside, Warrick watched Catherine with sympathy as she gathered the strength to ask him for a swab, moving towards the reflexive window to see what she was doing. "Ya know I can do that for you." He offered.

"Not gonna hurt any less." She said with a determination he both loved and admired. He shook his head in pity as she muttered "Damn" and handed him the closed swab and a paper evidence bag.

"Hey, could you turn around?" She asked.

"Huh?"

"Privacy." She said, silently begging him to understand that this was neither the time nor the place that she wanted to present herself to him. He obeyed, holding the evidence bag open, as she explained, "Guy bodied me full on, I don't want trace to miss one hair, one fiber." He grinned at her determination, marveled at her strength. Turning back around after making sure she was covered, he stated simply, "Looks like we're up." Walking ahead of her, he didn't see her hesitate as she gathered herself. Seeing it all too clearly, she stated, "He was drinking. It was beer." That she could tell what he'd been drinking pained him, as much as it pained him to see the fear in her eyes, as she was forced to relive the attack. He vowed that she'd never have to go through that again. Never.