Chapter Six
For the first time in a long while, Catherine found her house empty and quiet. She was in her kitchen with a mug of coffee long gone cold in front of her. Her thoughts were heavily occupied as she stared at the sun slowly rise above the horizon. Lindsay, Nancy and her mother had just left to catch the plane to Toronto. She still had some last minute affairs to conduct before leaving the city.
Catherine looked at the digital display on her oven clock. It showed 6:45 AM. She wondered what Sara was doing at that moment. Thinking about the brunette brought a smile to her lips. The next day, they would simply be putting a legal stamp over a relationship both of them had accepted in their hearts. She didn't need to walk down to the altar to be married to Sara. She could feel the woman's presence in every corner of her house. Be it the walls they had painted together, the furniture they jointly purchased, the clothes they sometimes interchangeably wore, the DVD shelves reflecting both their tastes, the books they cuddled together to read or the picture frames where neither was seen without the other; every facet of the house had Sara etched on them.
Sara had added a dash of color in, what to Catherine's opinion, was an otherwise dreary structure. Ever since she had purchased it, she had harbored dreams of making it a truly wonderful home. But her increasingly unstable relationship with Eddie, his eventual death and then Lindsay's downward spiral had robbed her of the ability to even dream.
Her fiancée's entry had changed that. Sara had proved to be the parent Lindsay always craved to have and Eddie could never manage to be. She had been the friend that every woman would envy. She had been the lover who had given so much more than just her body. And once again Catherine dared to dream. She dared to wish for a life one would dismiss as occurring only in fairytales.
Granted, they both had numerous verbal spats over the months. They both were too headstrong and stubborn to cohabit without rubbing each other the wrong way. But the makeup process after those fights just made the whole thing worth it. They did have the most beautiful sex after those arguments.
She also had to accede that Sara was truly a geek when it came to preferences. But while Sara's classical music and brooding movie preferences brought out the "intellectual" in her, she also brought out the "hipper" Sara by forcing the woman to share some of her own popular mainstream choices. All in all, in the long period of living and loving together, they had become like one individual with distinct identities.
Catherine sighed and leant back in her chair. Butterflies had taken residence in her stomach ever since the wedding preparations had started. She went to sleep each night, picturing the main event in her mind. It wouldn't really change anything as far as her relationship with Sara went. And yet, there was something special and very beautiful in getting ceremoniously married.
So absorbed had she gotten into her thoughts that she almost jumped when the phone rang.
"Willows." She answered in her habituated professionalism.
"I hate to disappoint you but this isn't Grissom with an assignment."
Catherine grinned at the voice. "Well, be ready to make it up to me."
"Yes, dear." Sara teased.
"How are things going there?"
"I'm outside the chapel." She answered. "Whoever Tony had chosen to decorate did a very good job."
"They should."
"By the way, do you know what gardenias signify?"
"There are flowers used for weddings." Catherine frowned. "It also means secret love. Why do you ask?"
"No, nothing."
"Hmm, did I ever tell you that you are terrible at lying?"
Catherine heard Sara stifle a laugh. "Someone just gave me a gardenia."
"What?" She almost dropped the phone. "Are you telling me that someone professed their secret love for you?"
"Well, according to you, gardenias do mean secret love, doesn't it?" Sara sounded highly amused which only managed to aggravate her further.
"Sara Sidle, you are flirting with someone else one day before our marriage?"
"Well, technically, Catherine, it's not called flirting."
"I apologize for my limited vocabulary but what is it called then?"
"It's called widening my associations." Sara let slip a chuckle.
"I just don't see the humor in this, Sara." Catherine was seriously beginning to lose her temper. Jealousy had never been something she could control easily and when it came to Sara, her possessiveness shot up to the sky.
"Hey babe? Melissa is just five." Sara tried to soothe her now fuming lover. "You have absolutely no reason to worry."
"I'm still planning to throttle you." She hissed. "Was this supposed to be a joke?"
"A very bad one, I admit."
"Damn right!"
"Cath, I'm sorry." Sara whispered, sincerely. "I just… I just do stupid things when I'm nervous."
"That is absolutely no excuse!"
"Catherine, I said I'm sorry."
"And that too just one day before our marriage? I almost thought you were calling me to break it off." Catherine continued in a choked voice.
"Babe, I'll never do that. I'm sorry, really, really, sorry. Here, I've hit myself three times on the head, ok?"
"Call me melodramatic, but…"
"You are not melodramatic." Sara firmly put down. "I agree I wanted to make you jealous. If there's anyone who is being needy, it's me."
"Don't ever joke in this way again, ever."
"I won't."
"Now where were we?" Catherine managed a smile.
"I believe at the decorations before we got sidetracked." Abruptly, Catherine could hear Sara talking to someone else in the background. She returned and said, "Hey Cath, I have to get off now. But there's one last thing though. The bridal store forgot to put my veil in the case. Could you pick that up for me, please? I'll have Wendy pick it up from you later."
"Sure thing, babe. Anything else?"
"Nope, that will be all, thanks. See you tomorrow." Sara's voice was affectionate.
"Can't wait."
"Cath?"
"Yes?"
"I love you, only you. Remember that"
"I'll remember." Catherine suddenly didn't want to let go of the receiver. There was an unspeakable force that didn't want her to stop talking to Sara. "I love you too, Sara."
"God, I miss you."
"I do too… but I'll be there… soon. Just wait for me."
"I'll wait."
Warrick was fingering his wedding ring as he looked out of the window. He could see the spires of New York's skyscrapers poking through the clouds. In another few minutes or so, they would have passed the US-Canadian border. Not that the air space was really marked by political boundaries. Beside him, his wife of three years, Tina slept peacefully. Her left hand lay casually over her belly, where their two week old baby had just begun its growth.
Nick and Wendy sat on the seats in front of them. Warrick smiled when he heard them tease each other. He wasn't sure whether they were just extremely close friends or something more. He was admittedly a little dumb when it came to sensing people's feelings.
Which was probably the reason that he never pursued anything with Catherine when he had the chance.
Greg was sitting across them, with Lindsay. They were apparently having an argument over Nelly Furtado's latest song.
Behind them were Catherine's sister, Nancy and her friend, Stacy. They were both absorbed in reading.
Suddenly, the plane lurched. Warrick reflexively clutched his seat rest. He flicked a glance towards Tina who was still sleeping. From out of the blue, a dense chill had wrapped itself around him.
"Yo man, what was that?" Nick had turned back, facing him.
"What, the turbulence?" Warrick tried to sound casual.
"No, not that." Nick had a puzzled frown. But there was something else. Warrick realized with a fright that whatever he had just felt, apparently Nick had too. This couldn't be good.
"We are losing it, Nicky." He tried to joke.
"Yeah." The Texan didn't sound convinced but he had spun his head away.
Warrick once again looked out. He was getting a very bad feeling about something but he couldn't point out what. However, he knew better than to just dismiss it. Over the many years of gambling, he had tuned his instincts to a fine level and had often relied on them. His gut was telling him something was indeed wrong.
He glanced at his watch, still set to the Las Vegas time zone. It showed 12:25 PM.
Grissom plucked off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose which had gotten numb. He had accomplished his mission to complete all his paperwork before he caught the 1:20 flight. He arranged all the files in a stack and pushed it to one corner of his desk. Next, he checked his overnight bag. His tuxedo was neatly packed in its own traveling bag. Grissom retrieved two jewelry boxes in rich blue. He opened it to ensure that the matching necklaces he had purchased as a gift for Catherine and Sara were intact. He snapped it shut and laid it carefully beneath his clothes. He knew next to nothing about jewelry, except that it was ultimately a product of some rare metals and minerals with specific chemical compositions. A special friend had helped him choose the necklaces.
"You ready to leave?" Sofia tapped his office door.
"Yes, pretty much. You?"
"I am ready as ever." She smiled at him. Grissom gave her an appraising glance, albeit a purely academic one. She was a beautiful woman and her looks were only enhanced by the strong personality which enveloped her. Catherine had once teased him about his relationship with Sofia. He knew how little his blonde friend liked this other blonde detective-cum-ex CSI. But that wasn't really the reason he was never attracted towards Sofia.
As shallow as it sounded, he had to admit he liked dark-haired women better.
"Hey, you look nervous." Sofia smirked, leaning against the door frame.
"If I didn't know you better, I would have said you were mocking me." Grissom cocked his head.
"I'm making an impersonal observation."
"Ah."
"Who will be feeding your pets while you are gone?" Sofia gestured towards the glass cases.
"Sofia, they are very much adapted to endure conditions of starvation for many days. It's a truly remarkable ability."
"Yeah." She suppressed the desire to be sarcastic. Grissom and his bugs were a well known joke in the LV Crime Lab.
"Grissom!" Detective Vartann almost stumbled in.
"Detective?" Grissom arched an eyebrow.
"There was an explosion in a downtown shopping mall." The man's good-looking face seemed to have gotten the color of pale marble.
"Vartann, we are officially off until Monday. Besides, shouldn't you be asking the dayshift workers?" Sofia crossed her arms.
"Grissom needs to… he needs to know." Vartann was trembling. That fact wasn't missed by Grissom's sharp gaze.
"Detective, is everything alright?"
He held his chest as he tried taking deep breaths, while still shivering.
"Vartann, oh Christ, what is going on?" Sofia leant against him.
"A woman… a saleswoman saw a customer walk towards the parking lot before… before the explosion."
"Okay." Both Grissom and Sofia patiently waited for Vartann to come to the point.
"The sheriff… he thinks he got an ID of the cus-customer."
"And?" Sofia didn't like the terrified look in her colleague's eyes one bit.
"He thinks that customer was Catherine."
Through the morbid silence, the alarm clock beeped 12:30 PM.
The beginning of a long, long journey into the tunnel... :P
