Chapter Six: One Handsome Redhead and One Jealous Entomologist

The bar the six entered was lowly lit, with a wide, panelled dance floor and an 'L' shaped bar to the left, while mahogany tables and red-cushioned booths occupied the rest of the room. It was nice enough—though, Gil admitted silently to himself, he didn't really have good judgement in that area. He didn't frequent bars.

Catherine, standing beside him, scanned the room. She hadn't seen the Miami Dade CSIs since the Gordon Daimler case. She'd spoken to their department head once since then, but it had been strictly business, and the call had been a dead end. Now, however, things were different.

"This way." Greg grinned and led the other five to a table where two people sat, a man and a woman, both casually dressed, the woman in dark jeans and a tank-top, the man in beige slacks and a dark green shirt. The woman glanced up as the team approached. The red-haired man did the same.

"Hi there!" Her southern accent was warm and friendly.

"Hey, Calleigh," Warrick said, "You remember Catherine?"

"Of course I do. Nice to see you again, Catherine." Calleigh Duquesne stretched a hand out to the strawberry blonde, which Catherine shook with a smile. She had always liked the polite blonde.

"Nice to see you too, Calleigh. I hope you had a safe trip up here." Catherine smiled again.

"It was fine. Horatio here slept the whole way, didn't you, Horatio?" Calleigh grinned at the somewhat intense man beside her.

"I think that's true." He looked at the woman standing in front of Calleigh. "It's good to see you again, Catherine."

Catherine smiled gently at Horatio Caine and shook his hand. She locked eyes with him for a beat after she had released his hand, a strange vibe flowing between their gazes.

Nick discreetly cleared his throat to bring them both back to the group. Catherine glanced at Gil for a moment.

"Uh, sorry—Horatio Caine, this is Gil Grissom, our ship captain," Catherine smiled tenderly at Gil as the two men shook hands.

"Gil Grissom," Horatio said, "I've heard good things."

"So have I, Lieutenant," Gil replied.

Calleigh glanced from one man to the other, her senses picking up on the slight tension between the two. She looked around at the others.

"Why don't we all sit down?" She suggested. Greg, followed by Warrick, Nick, and Sara, sat themselves around the booth, while Gil and Catherine squished themselves next to them. Horatio and Calleigh pulled up two chairs to the table.

"What's everybody drinking?" A pretty waitress sidled over to the large group and bestowed them with a smile.

The glanced at each other.

"A round of beers, please," Calleigh said. The waitress smiled again and moved away, skirting the ever-growing dance floor. Greg stared after her with his mouth slightly open.

Closing it, he turned to the two Miami CSIs.

"So, guys, tell us," he said, "what's it like working in Miami?"

Horatio and Calleigh exchanged smiled before Horatio answered in his slightly husky voice.

"Well, it's hard to explain Miami, Mr. Sanders."

"Call me Greg. Everyone does." Greg grinned at Calleigh.

"Ah."

"Just be thankful he didn't ask you to call him Greggo," Nick laughed. Greg frowned.

"Hey, I didn't make that name up," he said, as the waitress arrived with their beers, "Sara did."

"Did not! Nicky did!"

"I did? I thought Warrick did!"

The four Vegas CSIs and two Miami ones turned to look at Gil and Catherine, who had remained silent.

"Well, don't look at us!" Catherine said, raising her hands in mock defence, while Gil sat quietly back in his chair. He smiled slightly as he took a sip from the bottle that had been placed in front of him. Catherine glanced at him for help; he remained amusedly silent.

"Oh, you're a wicked man," she threatened, a note of unmistakable teasing in her voice.

"Smart, maybe. But wicked?" Gil smiled. So did Catherine.

The six others watched the exchange in apparent fascination. When Catherine had been in Miami, she had been all business—a trait Horatio found slightly endearing. Whenever she had been questioned about the man sitting next to her, she had gotten quietly defensive until she was sure whoever was enquiring about the entomologist wasn't speaking ill of him. Now, watching the two banter back and forth, Horatio wondered how deeply the relationship between Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows ran.

&----

An hour or so later found Greg, Warrick, Nick, Sara, and Calleigh crowded around a pool table while Gil and Catherine remained comfortably seated at the booth. Horatio had been called away by the NYPD Crime Unit to visit the dayshift supervisor, Detective Mac Taylor.

"Going somewhere, H?" Calleigh had enquired as Horatio stood to leave.

"Call from Detective Taylor. You'll be alright here?"

Calleigh smiled.

" 'Course I will, handsome. Say hi for me, okay?" She'd squeeze his hand briefly before turning back to the table and sinking three balls into the corner pocket.

"Damn!" Warrick laughed, "Where'd you learn to play pool like that?"

Calleigh just smiled.

Over at the table, Gil and Catherine were sipping silently from their drinks and watching the crowd on the dance floor. Gil had never been one for dancing, but his mother had insisted he learn—a life skill, she had called it.

The beat on the floor changed to a slower pace as Aerosmith drifted over to them. Catherine nearly melted--they were playing one of her favourite songs.

Glancing at the man next to her, she quickly slid out of the booth and stood in front of him.

"Dance with me?"

He looked doubtful for a moment, before locking his eyes with hers and swiftly joining her on the dance floor.

She felt like silk as she slipped her arms around his neck and began to sway gently to the music. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping,
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender,
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

He had the most startling blue eyes, she mused, clear, yet full of the wisdom and knowledge that made him so attractive. They held a slightly haunted look at times, usually when he was working a particularly disturbing case. Those times were the times she could always tell whether or not he was lying—when he responded with an "I'm, fine" if she questioned. He worked so hard to keep the world out and to close himself from it, yet his eyes betrayed him every time. She loved that.

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing

Her eyes were more cerulean, he thought. Hard and glinting when she was determined, blazing when she was angry, soft and cloudy when she cried, sparkling when she laughed. Lately, he'd seen more of the blazing of her eyes than he cared to admit. It scared him. Had he had anything to do with it? Somehow, in the back of his mind, he thought he did. But gazing into her eyes now, he saw no trace of the anger, no sign of her barriers. This was her, warm and smiling, her eyes glittering as they gazed into his.

This was Catherine.

This was his Catherine.

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,
Wondering if it's me you're seeing.
Then I kiss your eyes, and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever

Electricity seemed to be tingling through her body from every point she made contact with him. The look of longing in his eyes made her go weak in the knees. They both wanted it, that much was clear, but Catherine couldn't decide—was it worth it? Was it worth jeopardizing their friendship because she'd misread the signals? They'd known each other for so long that she was sure she knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. But now, closer to him than she had ever been before, her eyes locked with his, she didn't know.

To hell with it.

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

It was like slow motion. She leaned up, inches from his face, breath on his cheek, as he leaned down to meet her lips with his own. The kiss was light, a caress, but spoke volumes. And when they broke apart, gazing heavily at one another, she knew. This was it.

I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time

She tasted like heaven, Gil thought, as he examined her eyes carefully, in case he had been mistaken in kissing her. His best friend. Wanting to pinch himself but resisting, he saw her smile the Cheshire smile he loved so much, and bent to capture he lips with his.

Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
'Cause I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

&----

Greg Sanders grinned to himself as he turned his eyes from the dance floor and back to the pool table. Leaning over while Sara lined up her shot, he muttered to Nick,

"You owe me five bucks."

The Texan glanced curiously at the lab rat. Greg could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he attempted to make sense of the statement.

Alcatraz, the young CSI thought as the look of dawning comprehension spread across the older CSI's face. Eyes wide, Nick glanced towards the dance floor, but the supervisors where nowhere in sight.

Sighing, Nick dug around in his jeans pocket and slapped a five-dollar bill into Greg's waiting hand. Warrick, noticing this, glanced towards the dance floor as well, then did the same.

"Man, how'd you even guess that?" Warrick shook his head.

"Follow the evidence, boys," Greg tapped his nose, "Follow the evidence."

A/N: I hope this was apology enough for the cliffhanger from the last chapter. I just couldn't help myself! Oh, and "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" belongs to Aerosmith. There's my little disclaimer so I don't get sued.
Thank yous are owed to:
Brittney Landray AKA Muggs, hooligan (I'm sorry I made you hate me for that! Lol. It seems that I may just have to aim for a War and Peace type length--I have so much written!), danibanani (I hope the kiss was good enough!), Lena, D.M.A.S. ("Hm"? Is that good, or bad?), Jeran (Awesome, you think the same way about Gil/Sara. Thanks for reading The Butterfly Serial, and CHEERS for adding me to your favorites list!), aaaand dukespencer2. Whew!
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