A/N: Eight months and twenty-one chapters ago, I started this fic with no idea how long, or well received it would be. I just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you to all the people who took the time to read and review my fic. Your continued support meant a lot to me. In short? You guys rock! And a very special thank you goes to Greggo Maniac, Chickie Baby,and Sunset, who have been my sounding boards and betas. I don't know what I would've done without you guys.

Alright, enough of my sentimental ramblings, and on with the chapter…

Chapter Twenty-One: Complicated is the Whole Point

Greg looked expectantly at Nick, who hiked his brows and gave a little shrug, silently rising from his seat. He left the room, making a much quieter exit than Warrick, and ignoring the curious stares of his coworkers, disappeared around the corner.

Wendy was walking past, with one of the other female lab techs. She watched Nick turn the corner before shuffling across the hall and poking her head in the door.

"God, Greg. What the hell was that?"

Greg looked up at her from his seat. His eyebrows neared his hairline as he struggled for words. "I…I'm not sure. It…He…and I…" He shook his head and shrugged.

Wendy smirked at Greg before looking in the direction Warrick and Nick had gone, her expression curious. "Huh…Well, I think I'll stay out of his way tonight."

Greg nodded, absently picking up a random still-frame photo. "Yeah…" He glanced at it, did a double-take, and his look of confusion and numb shock transformed into a triumphant grin. He held the photo up for Wendy to see.

She smiled at the grainy but visible face of one of the robbers. "I always did love Candid Camera. Never knew what you might see."

-x-

Nick found Warrick in the men's bathroom, which was otherwise empty. Warrick was bent over the sink, hands supporting his weight on the basin, water dripping from his face.

Nick leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and waited as Warrick dried his hands and face. He cleared his throat and asked, "So…you wanna talk about it?"

Warrick tossed the damp paper towels in the trash bin, shaking his head even as he began to speak. "Nothin' to talk about. I lost it in there." He shrugged. "Don't know why…he just…got to me."

"Uh-huh."

Warrick looked at him, knowing a disbelieving tone when he heard one. His brow rose. "What?"

Nick shrugged. "I think you're full of crap."

Warrick scoffed. "I'm full of crap?"

Nick chuckled. "Uh, yeah. You, Warrick Brown, Mr. Tell-It-Straight, are full of crap."

Warrick said nothing, crossing his own arms and waiting expectantly for Nick to expound on this accusation.

"C'mon man, how long have I known you?"

Warrick shrugged. "Years. Since we started here."

"Exactly. And I can probably count on one hand how many times I've seen you snap on somebody like that."

"Yeah. So?"

"So," Nick said, stretching out the word, "…each and every time I can think of, you were somehow involved. Personally."

"Again, so what? Catherine is our colleague, Nick, and a friend. Of course it was personal."

Nick sighed, thinking this was like pulling teeth from a crocodile. He shook his head. "Warrick, in any other situation, you would've been right with Greg in dogging out Catherine's mystery man. Especially if what he'd said was true." He paused, and when Warrick said nothing, he continued. "But this wasn't any other situation. This, like all those other times, was personal. Very personal. Greg touched on a sore subject, didn't he, Rick?" Nick prodded, much like he would a resistant suspect.

Seeing that Warrick had no intentions of breaking his silence any time soon, Nick gave up on trying to get him to admit to something they both knew to be true and decided to take a different, more direct route. "Look, man, given that you looked as surprised as everyone else when Lindsay inadvertently broke the news, I'm gonna take a guess that Catherine hadn't told you about your impending fatherhood."

This, after a long, silent stare-down, finally got a reaction from Warrick. He sighed and shook his head. "No, not yet. She said she was trying to tell me before Grissom came and found me for that kidnapping case."

Nick nodded his understanding. "Okay…So, what're you guys going to do?"

Warrick shrugged. "I don't know yet. I told her not to worry about it for now. To just concentrate on getting better."

"Okay…Well, what do you want to do about it?"

Warrick looked at him. "What do I want to do about it?" He paused, thinking. "I just want to be there for Catherine. I'm gonna do everything I can for her. And of course for the baby…My baby." He corrected, and seemed to retreat inward at those last two words. Nick remained silent, allowing Warrick his thoughts, waiting until he came back to the present.

When the far away look passed from Warrick's face, Nick posed the most logical next question. "And what about Tina? How's she takin' it?"

Warrick stared at him for a minute before blowing out a sigh. "Don't think that'll be much of a problem," he murmured. "Me and Tina…It's over. Has been since that first night at the hospital."

Nick looked surprised. "Wait, she found out about Cath—?"

"No," Warrick shook his head. " I went up to check in with her, let her know I was at the hospital...And I found her in a supply closet with David."

"Jesus," Nick said on a whisper. " You mean…"

Warrick gave him a sour smile. "No. Nothing like that. I just found out some interesting things about her…relationship, with her ex."

Nick blew out a bewildered breath. "Jeez…And there was nothing to do to…salvage the relationship," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

Warrick gave a dry chuckle. "Finding out that your wife's baby has a good chance of being someone else's kid kinda puts things in perspective."

Nick was speechless, his eyes wide.

"I realized that the main reason I was still with Tina, even after I found out about her cheating, was for the baby's sake. And even that never felt completely right. There was this feeling that something was…off…" He shook his head. "Anyway, with those misplaced feelings of loyalty and responsibility gone, there was no reason for me to lie to myself anymore. I was tired of feeling guilty and not knowing why."

Nick nodded slowly in agreement. "So, what's going on? You two start the divorce process and everything?"

Warrick nodded and sighed. "Man, it's worse than any case I've ever worked. The paper work is ridiculous, and the lawyers…Pshhh," he shook his head. "Here, I thought defense attorneys were vultures, but, man, they've got nothing on divorce lawyers. The defense is out for an acquittal, and maybe some airtime on the late night news. Overpaid weasels, the lot of 'em. But divorce lawyers…Divorce lawyers are out for blood. They're sharks. Worse, actually."

Nick cracked a sympathetic smile. "Her lawyers are that bad, huh?"

Warrick looked surprised and shook his head. "Her lawyers? I haven't even dealt with her lawyers yet. I was talking about the guy I hired."

Nick laughed out loud at that, and Warrick joined him, shaking his head at the unbelievable nature of the entire situation. Since when was his life this complicated?

-x-

Complicated is the whole point.

For whatever reason, those words came floating into Catherine's mind as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed, waiting for the required wheelchair that would be her transport to the ground floor, and finally the exit. When she'd spoken those words over a year ago, she'd had no idea what the future held for her, and never in her wildest dreams would she have come up with something that was half as complex as the situation she was in now.

She was 43-years-old, pregnant and recovering from surgery. Her daughter, at fourteen, was growing up before her very eyes, the glimpses of the woman Lindsay was becoming fast replacing those of the little girl she had been. In no time at all, Lindsay would be off at college, then out into the world to make a life of her own, and then…what? Catherine would be alone, left to raise yet another child on her own. The thought was harrowing.

There was a knock on the door and she looked up, expecting to see her mother, who was coming to pick her up, or maybe the nurse, back with more papers. Surprised, she smiled as Warrick walked into the room. He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, pink tulips, purple and yellow iris, and a few sprays of baby's breath. Catherine was reminded of a case from a few months back. It had been a breaking and entering job at a small time florist, definitely petty cash. Some young punks out for a rush and a laugh.

The thirty-something woman who owned the place had talked Catherine's ear off about just about every type of flower and their traditional meanings. She'd learned more about flowers that shift than she'd ever need to know. But now she couldn't help but wonder if Warrick had any idea what his particular selection meant.

"Hey," he greeted her, his smile broad as he held out the flowers.

"Hey yourself," she grinned, gently touching a sprig of baby's breath. "Pretty,"

she said.

"I think so," he said, his gaze never wavering from her face.

She wondered if he was referring strictly to the flowers. Dangerous territory and she steered clear of it. Lowering the wax-paper wrapped bouquet to her lap she asked, "What brings you here?"

"I'm playing chauffeur today." He grinned at her raised eyebrow. "Lily was a mess, trying to make sure everything was perfect for your arrival. I volunteered to pick you up. I think she would've spontaneously combusted if I hadn't stepped in."

Catherine laughed, a hearty sound that was a vast improvement on the shaky timbre of her voice just one week previous. What a difference a day—or seven—makes. "My hero," she said dryly, her eyes alight with good humor.

Warrick grinned. "Yeah. Just don't tell her I said she was a mess. I think she might shoot me the way she's feeling."

Catherine laughed again. "Nah, she'd have Sam do it. Shooting is not my mother's style. Too messy."

Warrick snorted a laugh. "Humph, good to know. I'll be sure too keep that in mind."

Catherine was about to make another wisecrack when there was another soft knock at the door. They both looked to it as the nurse entered, wheelchair in front of her.

"Here you are Miss Willows." Her voice was irritatingly melodic, a practiced trait, Catherine was sure. It fit her though, she was perkiness personified: bouncy blonde hair, bubbly personality, and big bright smile.

"I can walk, you know," Catherine said, not for the first time. "I feel fine."

The nurse gave her an indulgent smile. "I'm sure you do, but," she shrugged, the rise of her shoulders bumping the ends of her faux flaxen hair. Her expression was regretful, as though she truly had no say in the matter, and the wheelchair matter was in hands much higher than hers. "Doctor's orders."

Catherine sighed, knowing this was a load of BS. The hospital was only worried about her falling down a flight of stairs, then taking them to the cleaners in court. She gingerly lowered her feet to the floor, sliding off the edge of the bed, careful not to shift or jostle the sling on her right arm. She sat in the wheelchair, and the nurse began to push her towards the door of the private room she'd been given after her brief stint in Recovery. It was definitely one of the better rooms, more a small suite than hospital room. Sometimes, she thought, it paid to have a father who owned half the town, and knew who owned the rest.

"I'll do that," Warrick said, stepping up to take the handles.

The nurse looked at him. "Well, I'm supposed to escort her downstairs," she said, pensively, pausing to examine Warrick more closely. Suddenly, she smiled. "But I guess it would be okay. I'll have a few of the orderlies bring down her bags and the flowers."

"Thank you," Warrick replied.

She yielded the chairs' rubber-covered handles and stepped aside. With one last smile and a bubbly you take care now she left the room.

Catherine looked up at Warrick incredulously. "How did you do that?"

He grinned down at her. "Do what?"

"That," she said insistently. "I've been arguing with her all morning about how I was going to get downstairs, and here you waltz in, and she just gives up the reins."

He shrugged. "You don't have my looks and charm."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't give me that 'looks and charm' excuse. That's a load of bull."

Warrick laughed, and held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, Sassy, just calm down. I don't know why. Honest."

She raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head, smirking. Actually, she was apt to believe the charm and looks theory. Wouldn't have been the first time in history that someone got what they were after because of their looks. "Alright then, Boy Scout, get me out of here. I'm starting to really hate hospitals."

"Yes ma'am," he said, and pushed her out into the hall.

The two were quiet the rest of the journey out of Desert Palms, more out of respect for the other patients than a lack of something to say. As they arrived out side, Catherine squinted in the bright sunlight, blinking as her eyes adjusted.

She hadn't been outside since the night of the accident, a week ago, and the dull, color-draining florescent lights of the hospital were definitely no substitute for the sun's rays. Despite the fact that her eyes were burning and she was finding it impossible to keep them both open at one time she was delighted to be out of the confines of the hospital room.

She took a deep breath; enjoying the heavy, vapor thick air, clearing the scent of anti-bacterial cleansers, medicine, and sickness from her nasal passage. It was going to rain soon, a nice big storm. She could smell it and was grateful for the prospect. The cool air, with its earthy, slightly musky smell was far better than the man-made cool of Desert Palms' air-conditioned halls. At least, she felt that way for now. Should it have started pouring right then, she probably would've gone running back to her room. Fortunately, the raindrops were staying heavenward for the time being.

Warrick had managed to park his car right outside the Emergency Room doors in a spot typically reserved for emergency vehicles, making use of one of the perks enjoyed by members of the law enforcement community. He opened the passenger door, and despite her protests that she didn't need it, helped her into the car. When he'd loaded the flowers and her two small travel bags into the backseat and gotten himself settled in the driver's seat, he noticed that she was watching him, her expression amused.

"All this macho, help-even-when-I-don't-want-it stuff isn't because I'm pregnant is it? I'm not in for five more months of this, am I?"

Warrick shook his head. "No."

She sat back in her seat, relaxing. "Good. I don't think I could take it."

"More like 221."

Catherine looked at him, confused. "What?"

Warrick shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. "Last I checked, legal age was still eighteen. So, I think the number of months is closer to 221 than five."

Catherine stared at him, incredulous eyebrow raised. "Oh really?"

"Unless my math is wrong."

Catherine just laughed, shaking her head. "Right."

She closed her eyes, resting her head on the headrest and listening to the jazz floating through the car's speakers, the whisper of a smile still tilting the corners of her mouth. She may not know exactly what the future would bring, no one did, but it was the unexpected, the unplanned things that made life worth living. And Catherine was all about living.

Eventually, yes, Lindsay would be gone, and soon she would be starting all over again, raising another child. But the thought was no longer distressing. Okay, it wasn't as distressing. Child rearing was hard work, but now the challenge was inviting, exciting even. Because she knew she'd been wrong earlier. She wouldn't be doing it alone.

She opened her eyes and glanced at Warrick, his strong features pinched in concentration as he focused on his driving. She studied him for a moment as they wound through streets she knew as well as her own name, squinting in thought.

She thought about how they still hadn't had that 'talk' yet, but whatever tension there was that night in Recovery had been set aside, and for that she'd be eternally grateful. They would talk everything through, eventually. For now though, she was content with the 'focus on getting better' arrangement. It went unsaid that the baby's health was a top priority. They didn't need to talk to know that much.

She thought about the realizations she'd had during one sleepless night at the hospital: she knew that she cared about him, that she loved him. In what capacity and how it would manifest were a little more tricky to figure out, and she had yet to reach a conclusion What she did know was that things were not going to be easy for them. Not in the least, but whatever happened, they'd get through it together. She had no doubts about that.

They eased to a halt at a stop sign, and Warrick glanced at her, catching her staring. He grinned. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She smiled in return, giving him a small shrug. "Nothing worth paying for. Just…thinking."

He nodded, taking her at her word, and hooked a left turn onto her street. Catherine focused ahead in anticipation. Her gaze was intent on her home, where she knew her family and friends were waiting, ready to welcome her. She grinned, thinking about how lucky she was. She had a wonderful family and great friends that she loved, and a job that not only made a difference, but she actually enjoyed…most of the time.

They pulled into the driveway, and before the car had come to a complete stop, Lindsay rushed out of the front door where she had been impatiently waiting for them to arrive. Catherine grinned at her daughter's exuberance and climbed from the SUV with relative ease. She leaned down, giving Lindsay as big a hug as she could manage with only one arm and a side full of stitches.

"Mom, Grandma made dinner. Your favorite, lasagna. And I made dessert. Well, Sara helped, but it was my idea…"

Glancing over the chattering teen's head, Catherine saw the smiling faces of her parents, her friends and co-workers as they spilled onto the front porch. Her family.

She began the trek to the house, her good arm around Lindsay's shoulders, as Nick and Greg came out to help with the luggage and flowers, pausing to welcome her home. Grissom, Sam, Lily, and Sara ushered her into the house in a flurry of well wishes and happy, grateful hugs.

In less than a minute, she was surrounded in the controlled chaos that every homecoming brings and for what must have been the zillionth time since Warrick had shown up at the hospital, she grinned, happy to be home. If this was complicated, she didn't want simple.

The End

A/N: -bites back sob- I can't believe it's over. I didn't plan on it; the chapter kind of closed itself out. However, I am thinking of doing a sequel…If you guys are interested. Either way, let me know what you're thinking this one last time…