They walked in silence for a while, her hand in the hook of his elbow his main focus. He didn't know what she was thinking, where they were going… it made him nervous to not know what was going on, but at least she wasn't making him talk. This gave him time to think. Well, try to. It was nearly impossible to do so once that faintly familiar scent reached him. It wasn't anything specific, but it was different. It was her.

"You're a shy guy, aren't you, Gil?" She asked suddenly, turning her gray eyes up to him. He didn't look at her right away, but as soon as he found his answer, he met her eyes.

"If you know that, then why would you point it out?" Her smile was unexpected, and she stopped walking, facing him.

"I wasn't really pointing it out. I was looking for clarification as to why you aren't out with someone else… I wanted to know why you have time to be walking around my backyard with me, when others couldn't even spare the time to walk me to the office when I broke down." She spoke with brutal straight-forwardness, and he admired that for a moment, now understanding that she truly felt like the black clothes that she always wore.

"One day you're crying your eyes out, and then the next you're dropping out of school. Natural curiosity, I suppose." If she was embarrassed by his bringing up what had happened, she did not betray her emotions. Her eyes didn't leave him, though he found himself wishing that the piercing gaze would wander away.

"I have my reasons."

She may as well have said nothing, if you asked him, but before he could say anything, she had turned, and their silent walk continued.

Finally, the path dumped into a forest, and her hand left his arm. He took that as a sign to stop walking, but she took a few steps ahead.

"I used to hide here, Gil, back when I was younger. I thought hiding would help. That retreating somewhere would solve my problems." A pale hand rose and rested against the trunk of a tree she had stepped up to, then she turned, looking back over at him. "But you can't run away. I learned that."

The pointed way she said it made him raise an eyebrow, and he pushed his hands into his pockets. "I'm not running away from anything." Her lips twitched, fighting a smile, and she raised her head, the confidence that seemed to radiate off of her merely growing.

"No, not now. But I think if someone were to try to get close to you you would." Again, her bluntness caught him offguard, and he just stood there, staring back at her. "You're not going to argue?"

"I have no argument." His response was not the one she wanted, and she turned, her game obviously ruined for the moment. Heather's frame, which could not be described in one word, leaned against the tree she had just had her hand against, and he watched her pull a bit of her dark red hair over her shoulder to play with it.

"Do you ever wonder what went wrong with people, Gil?" She asked suddenly, and he was silent still, confused by her question. The silence made her turn again, and he knew he wasn't getting away from an answer this time.

The sound of crying came to his memory, and he winced suddenly, nodding. "I do." She stepped toward him, and he took the opportunity to study the way she moved. Grace wasn't the right word, though she was definitely not clumsy. She moved with an awareness of everything about her and everything around her, like she knew what a certain step would do with the way her skirt hung, or the way a certain dip of a hip would provide the slightest glance of her flat stomach. If she was trying to seduce him, which he suddenly felt that she was, then he was immensely thankful that he was himself. Any other male his age would have been eating out of her hand within seconds, but he prided himself on being able to keep his mind.

And then she was in front of him, and her gray eyes were flickering over his face, and that ability began to leave him. A hand ran up his arm, along his shoulder, and then she shifted up onto her toes, her entire arm draping over him. Her fingers were brushing his neck, right below his hairline, and he felt her breath against his neck as she leaned her head against him.

He didn't move, eyes wide like a deer in the bright lights of a car. No one invaded his space like this… but this was the second time she had done so. The last time hadn't been as nerve-wracking, as she'd been crying, and he felt the instinct to help her. But this… this wasn't necessary. It wasn't right… wasn't fair! She knew everything that she did, knew his reaction better than even he did.

"You don't wear cologne." She suddenly muttered, and he felt every nerve that was in contact with her lips leap alive, the soft skin and warm air caressing his neck, mere millimeters from his pulse, which was thundering away.

Now, why she had pointed that out, he wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure if it was a question, so he said nothing. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes, and he felt the urge to scream out his frustration. He wanted this to stop… wanted to run away, as she had said she knew he would.

And suddenly, she jumped, and released him. Startled, he started to turn and see what had frightened her, but then her hand seized his wrist, and she tore off, dragging him behind her. Her pace indicated terror, but it was easy for him to keep up, seeing as how he was wearing shoes and she wasn't.

They ran for a few minutes, and then she stopped, grabbing his arms and giving him a hard shove at a patch of bushes. He fell right into them, finding that he landed on an old blanket, instead of dirt as he had expected. Pushing himself up, he started to ask what the hell was going on, but she wasn't facing him anymore. She'd turned back to face the direction they had run from, giving him a profile view of her.

Gil hadn't realized that his gaze had been distracted by the fast rise and fall of her chest until another figure suddenly burst into view, catching his attention. His head started to turn to see who it was, but the other man had moved so quickly that it wasn't necessary, and his hand grasped a fistful of Heather's dark hair, giving her a hard shake.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" He snarled, but Gil was more surprised by Heather's actions than by this man. She wasn't defending herself. She just stood there in his grip, her spine twisted at an angle because of his grip on her hair, her gray eyes meeting his easily even as he growled into her face. "And what have I told you about running from me?" He didn't go on, and Gil understood immediately that this had happened before, and that she was actually to answer his questions.

"That no one will take me in…" She answered, but her voice sounded the same as it did any other time. There was no sign of submission… merely acceptance.

"And?"

"And there's no where for me to go, so I may as well save my energy for…" Self-consciousness took over her mood, and she seemed incapable of finishing the sentence. Grissom was sure he didn't want to hear it-

"For what, Heather?" He pushed, his grip on her hair becoming white-knuckled.

"For you!" She finished with gusto, and Gil winced hard, realization hitting him harder than-

Than the smack that was delivered to one of her pale cheeks, the force of which was not only projected in the sound, but in the fact that she stumbled away from him, slid on the hem of her skirt, and crumpled to the ground.

Part of him expected the man to help her, but he turned, storming out of view. Gil just lay on his back, where he had fallen, horror paralyzing him.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, and when he started to rise to help her, she shot him a look that told him very clearly to stay where he was. She helped herself, and when she had gained back her composure, she moved over to him and sank down onto the blanket next to him.

The look he'd just received silenced him from inquiring if she was alright, and she seemed to have expected it, because she just sat there, rearranging her hair so it fell behind her shoulders as usual. Her ankles crossed, and she rested her hands in her lap, finally turning her eyes to him. A challenge lay there, but he didn't take it. Knew better than to take it.

His silence threw her off, and she faltered, then stood up sharply, grabbing his arm and hauling him up as well. Her strength was startling, really, and he opened his mouth to say that, but he was shut up quickly when her hand flashed up.

Indignantly, he seized her wrist before she actually hit him, and he immediately stepped back, knowing that this was over. Now.

No words were needed, and he turned away from her after releasing her, disappearing back along the path that they had taken to get there.