Disclaimer: They're not mine
Rating: T or PG-13 for language and violence
Summary: It's 2am. The doorbell rings. A baby is crying. What are you going to do? W/S with GCR moments and a major case
So here we go, some fluffy bad/goodness for you now (depending on where you stand on this kinda thing). First, I gotta thank the reviewers though because, my friends, it's tradition and you're wonderful. Thank you Veronica10, charmed1818, Megara1, Kelly, Aleja21 (aww, well I'm sorry to hear you had a miserable day.), roxxi, icklebitodd (okay, okay, I get the hint.), Review1234 (746 words. And why wouldn't you want to wake up next to Sara?), katymoonbeam (hope ya get over that cold...), Lizzy Sidle (yayyy), JennCorinthos, MissyJane, topsy and Joyce3 (damn right you're working on a new chapter...)
Also, many apologies to topsyt and Megs for not having the chance to thank you in the last chapter on account of being a bit messed up. That review, Megs, meant a lot - so thanks. Anyway, I'll get on with this and leave you to reach for those sick bags. But I'll just plug the write underscore impulsive Live Journal community first and then I'll be gone. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
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Wake The Hope. Chapter Sixteen. Partner Up
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"We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection."
DALAI LAMA
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It is still night-time, though a very long evening is drawing to a close, when Catherine pokes her head around Gil's office door and flashes him a bright smile.
"I'm off now," she tells him. "When you're done, come over. Lindsey's class is putting on a performance of Oliver and she got the part of the Artful Dodger."
"Isn't the Artful Dodger male?" Gil asks tentatively as Catherine comes in, shutting the door behind her, and sits on the side of his desk.
She shrugs with a smile. "What can I say? Lindsey's a better actress than the boys in her class. Anyway, we need someone else to help her go over her lines and I think you'd make one hell of a Fagin. Or Bill Sykes..." Catherine grins and Gil arches one eyebrow.
"And you'll be playing...?" he prompts.
"Who else would I be playing?" she replies. "Nancy."
Gil smirks, "This I've got to see. I'll be over as soon as I'm finished up here."
"Great," Catherine chirps and turns to go but Gil catches her hand and pulls her back around.
"Hang on," he says, "There was something I never got a chance to do earlier." and kisses her deeply. Then he smiles at her slightly surprised face and adds brightly, "I'll be round a little later."
Catherine laughs slightly. "Damn right you will." She mutters, pulling him in for another kiss. They lose themselves for a moment and that is why they don't hear Gil's office door open or someone step inside.
Greg looks up from the folder of paper work he was planning on handing over to Grissom and is stunned by the sight that he sees.
"Oh Christ," he blurts as the two of them spring apart. Greg heads towards the door. "Sorry. I'm sorry – I'll just...I'll go."
"No – Greg!" Catherine yells quickly and beckons him in. He shuts the door behind him. Catherine glances uneasily at Gil. "Greg, we're sorry. We should probably leave these things at home but we'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this. It just sort of happened and not at a very good time."
Greg looks pained. "So I can't tell anyone? Not even Nick?" he asks. Gil shakes his head firmly.
"Put it this way, Greg: if you do, word might get out about how it was you who switched all of Nick's sandwiches for peanut butter and jelly last week," Grissom warns him slyly. Greg pales.
"Oh no – man, he'd kill me!" Greg protests but Gil only tilts his head on one side slightly. Greg sighs huffily and rolls his eyes before leaving. "Fine. But you really should pick a more private place..."
Once the door has closed, Catherine turns to Gil with a grin.
"You have a pretty evil streak there, Gil," she smirks and gets up to leave. "You'd make quite some Bill Sykes."
Gil shakes his head with a chuckle and powers through his work so he can leave sooner – something he never thought he'd be doing.
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Morning glints a crisp light into Warrick's living room and illuminates his house. It shines on baby Nate, still fast asleep in his travel cot. It shines on Sara standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee machine to finish. And it shines on Warrick, stirring a saucepan of scrambled eggs beside her, moving her out of the way gently, with his hands lightly on her hips, to pull a wooden spoon from a drawer.
Sara peers into the pot of fresh coffee and swirls it absent-mindedly. "Coffee?" she offers.
"Thanks," he smiles as she rattles through his shelves.
"Where do you keep your mugs, Warrick?" she asks vaguely. He reaches up behind her, opening the cupboard next to the one she was looking in and, when she turns around to him, she finds his face is curiously close. She doesn't move away – she doesn't move at all and, taking this to be a good sign, Warrick presses his lips against hers.
It is at that point that she realises why she's been fine with taking his help all this time. Why she phoned him up when she found Nate. Why she prayed for him to come and interrupt her attacker. It shocks her for a moment – she'd been hung up on Grissom for such a long time that, after those feelings finally faded, she hadn't expected ever to get them back. At least, not with someone who returned them.
She's still speechless when he draws back and her lack of response sparks a surge of anxiety in Warrick.
"Sara?" he murmurs, prompting her to say something.
"Warrick..." she begins in a voice that's unable to be read. She's not looking at him and he worries.
"If that was out of line, Sara – I'm sorry. I don't know why..." he flusters.
"No, no – Warrick, you're burning the breakfast." she cuts him off gently and he looks back to the saucepan, a trail of smoke wisping out of the slightly blackened eggs. He swears to himself and turns down the heat, trying to salvage the meal. Sara giggles slightly and rests her hand on his forearm for a while before heading out of the kitchen.
"Can I use your shower?" she calls back but doesn't wait for an answer. At any rate, Warrick's in no state to answer any questions with level-headedness.
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Breakfast in the Willows house is slightly different, with Lindsey watching Uncle Gil over her bowl of cereal and digging her spoon into the Cheerios with a grin as Uncle Gil's voice gets deeper and more sinister the more he goes on.
"Well, I hope you've been at work this morning, my dears?" Uncle Gil croons, acting as best he can whilst sitting on the kitchen stool in his boxers and a t-shirt, reading from the script.
"Yes, Fagin – working hard." Lindsey responds.
"Good boys, good boys! What have you got, Dodger?" Uncle Gil cackles with a melodrama that makes Catherine, coming back from the shower with a towel on her head, laugh.
"A couple of pocket books." Lindsey rehearses before adding, "You know, you don't need to be so freaky, Uncle Gil." Gil grins, feigning outrage.
"That was my best acting!" he complains. Lindsey snickers and Gil rolls his eyes. "Sure, I'm no match for you. But that's why you're in the play and I'm not."
"And because you're a little too old," Lindsey adds tactfully. Gil laughs.
"Yes, that too." he says and smiles up at Catherine who drapes her arms around his neck, leaning her chin on his shoulder and placing a kiss below his ear.
"You going to come and see the play, Uncle Gil?" Lindsey asks eagerly.
"Of course he is," Catherine answers for him and Gil nods.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, honey," he assures the little girl who beams. Catherine fondly tucks a stray lock of blonde hair behind Lindsey's ear and pinches a Cheerio from her cereal bowl.
"Hurry up, Linds – you don't want to be late," she chirps lightly before heading further into the kitchen for a mug of coffee.
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The drive to work was quieter than usual between Sara and Warrick. It was a strange sort of tension that hung in the air: Warrick worrying that he'd been out of line with the kiss and Sara still trying pinpoint when, exactly, she started feeling like this about him. He pulls into the lab parking lot and pulls up the handbrake with finality as he turns to her.
"I'll drop Nate off at day-care," she mentions absently, rummaging in her purse without reason.
"Sara..." he begins and waits until she looks up at him. "I'm sorry if I was too forward this morning. It just...it seemed right. I'm sorry if..."
"No, not at all," she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. "It was right. I'm just a little mixed up right now." She smiles and decidedly kisses him.
Nick, coming in to start his shift, smirks with amusement, pleased to see Warrick's finally got it together and he enters the break room to find Greg sitting at the table, colouring in a paper fortune-teller.
"Glad to see you making good use of your time, Greggo," Nick quips as Greg looks up briefly.
"These things are great," he objects. "And I won't have you saying otherwise."
Nick only laughs and shakes his head, grabbing the seat opposite him.
"Well, as long as we're being sixth graders," he says. "Guess who I just saw making out in the parking lot?"
Greg rolls his eyes, still scribbling away with a red felt tip pen. "Oh man, don't tell me Cath and Griss have moved it to the parking lot, as well?"
Nick leans forwards. "What? I was talking about Warrick and Sara." his eyes widen. "Catherine and Grissom, really? Since when?"
Greg's face falls. "Oh shit." he mutters. "They blackmailed me not to tell. You can't tell anyone, Nick."
"Sure, okay." Nick replies vaguely and smiles in wonderment out of the window. "You think somebody put something in the water here?"
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