Chapter Three
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Judging from the dark circles under his eyes and his sluggish movements as he headed towards his office, Catherine noted that her supervisor's slumber hadn't fared well either. A new day boasted a refreshing cycle, but neither had absorbed any of the renewing spirits; both having battled with the emotional repercussions of the morning before. She bowed her head, staring at the coffee machine, willing for the artificial energy to jolt her awake. The aroma had already infiltrated her senses, but she craved the bitter taste to awaken her body.
"Don't you know that a watched pot never percolates." Warrick walked in, handing her a cup of freshly brewed beans. "Got it from Starbucks down the street."
She smiled a thanks, taking a generous sip of the scalding liquid, before spitting it back into the cup. "Hot!" She yelped, sticking her tongue out in a vain attempt to cool.
"Mind's not on the logic side of things, huh?" There was a small amount of humour, but concern was over-powering any other intent.
She shook her head, feeling a tingling in her eyes but still promising herself not to shed anymore tears for his benefit.
Warrick sighed, pulling her into an easy hug. "Uh, Greg and I heard..."
She pushed back slightly, a red tint colouring her cheeks. "...I never thought it had gotten that bad."
"We take things for granted sometimes, you know."
She pulled back further, hurt reflecting in her eyes. "Are you taking his side."
He sighed and pulled her in to a reluctant hug, one hand rubbing her back. "No." He stated simply, breathing in her scent. Had he not respected his supervisor, a chance would have been taken a long time ago, with the woman in his arms. But he never saw the same emotions in her eyes, in comparisons to the way she viewed the docile blue-eyed man.
Gil leaned against the door, watching the two share an interpretive intimate moment. Sighing aloud, he stepped in, flipping through the three folders he held in his hand. "Am I too early or too late?" He asked, hoping they would infer the absence of the rest of the team, and not the building bond between his two CSIs.
Warrick sensed the tension immediately and stepped back from the embrace he had just shared with Catherine. Picking up his coffee, he distanced himself from the two of them, opting to sit at the far end of the room.
He still hadn't raised his eyes to meet her stare, neither had he bothered to offer Warrick a glance. He merely kept pretending to be enthralled by the case notes, while he silently prayed for his team to show up. He glanced up, hearing the boisterous Texan charm enter the room, followed by the eccentric lab rat.
"...and that's the best way to really take advantage of the sexual bliss of the -" he interrupted himself, glancing around the room at the shocked yet interested expressions. "...economy." He finished lamely.
Greg stifled a chuckle as the rest of the team's confusion overpowered the otherwise tense atmosphere.
Gil's eyes jumped from Nick to Sara as she walked into the room, taking a seat beside him. "Right," his eyes examined the Texan CSI once more before falling back to the folders at hand, "Nick and Sara, you two have a 407 turned 415." He handed Sara the file, before turning facing Warrick. "You're with me on a 420 homicide, on the strip." Standing up, he took a deep breath and walked over to Catherine, handing her a folder without a word.
She glanced at him, the mixture of anger and hurt almost magnetically compelling him to hold her stare. They both stood, face to face as their shallow breathing mixed together. Each wanted to speak, but some distorted sense of dignity curbed any words from being exchanged.
Just as he was about to exit, the team's beepers wailed in succession, instilling a rather edgy air to the already tense room. Gil sighed, letting his head loll back before reaching for his phone, flipping it open as the first ring sounded. "...what about the cases we have already?" He paused, grinding his teeth lightly as he listened to the voice on the other end of the conversation. "No sir...I wouldn't dream of vetoing your decision...we'll be right there." He snapped his phone shut, dropping his head to his chest.
"Sheriff's bitch?" Warrick grinned, handing him back the case file he had been looking over.
"High profile case, we're all his bitches now." Gil muttered, taking the folder from Catherine's hands without looking at her. "Let's go." He exited the room, the rest of the CSIs following his lead as they headed to the parking lot.
Warrick fell into sync with Catherine's steps, noticing the morose expression upon her face. "You okay?"
She shook her head, eyes keeping level with the ground. "There's no basis for this, has anyone else realized that?" She glanced up, watching the back of his head, in view between Sara and Nick's forms. "There's no reason for him to be treating me like that." She whispered, as they continued to follow the leader.
Gil smirked, spying Conrad walking in the opposite direction. Extracting the folders that were nestled underneath his arm, he slapped them to the Day Shift supervisor's chest. "Enjoy your overtime." He smiled sweetly, not bothering to stop and bask in his nemesis's ire. The rest of the team followed, all but Catherine donning a rather sadistic smile.
Gil pushed open the door and held it open for his team. He watched as Catherine and Warrick walked together, their bodies a little too close for his liking.
Catherine walked past him, only turning around slightly when she felt a good distance had formed between them. Unconsciously, her breathing deepened as she caught sight of his eyes on her, with an previously unseen emotion tinting his light blues. "This is going to be hell." She muttered, before climbing into the driver's side of her Tahoe.
--TBC–