Falling for the Wrong One
Rating: Teen (May advance to Mature later on)
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of the characters.
Summary: They were kinda, sorta friends... at least... she hoped.
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Catherine Willows
A/N: So... I'VE BEEN AWAKENED. I have another account on here, known as Teliko.x3, but I thought it was time for a change. So... here I am! I've already posted this on Ao3 as well. Sorry for any grammar mistakes! I'm not quite sure how many chapters it'll be, but hopefully a handful!
It had taken a lot of convincing, but he was finally here. Stepping off the plane, he can already feel the sweltering heat seeping through the metal jetway. Growing up in California, he could honestly say now that he was back west, that he'd never miss the heat again. Minneapolis weather had been damn near perfect, with the exception of snow, which had taken him some time to get used to. But he was here now, in Las Vegas, and for what seemed to be the long haul.
He claims his baggage, checks his watch, and rents a car that'll take him to his new home; a modest condo on the outskirts of the city, close enough to make a quick trip to the lab but away from the noise. There's not much he had packed up and brought back from Minneapolis; a mattress, a few pieces of cookware, a handful of personal items, and his bug collection. His wardrobe had fit in all three suitcases he owned. The rest, he decided, could be sold.
Technically, he doesn't start his new job for another week. But it proves to be ample enough time to situate his life before he lets the work take over it. He buys the necessities, but nothing more; sheets, a few pieces of furniture to be delivered by the end of the week, food, toiletries, and to his distaste, a car.
So when the day finally comes, his first day at the Las Vegas Crime Lab as a Level III CSI, it rains. And hard. A welcoming present from the city that welcomed no one. He navigates through the downpour, until he's pulling into parking lot designated for employees like him. It takes him no time at all to find a spot, which worries him, makes him think he's parked somewhere he's not supposed to be.
He's dry, not a raindrop on him, which wasn't a good foot to start off on, it seems. As the rest of the shift pours in, the lab techs, the lower level investigators, he notices how their clothing clings to them as if they had just walked five miles in the rainstorm. He's decided to steer clear of the locker room for the time being.
When he's sure that everyone has clocked-in or clocked-off, he carefully makes his way back, to grow accustomed to his new locker room. He spots a vacant locker, pulls it open. He's startled by the sudden thud of a heavy duffle bag onto the bench behind him, and turns his head to find another drenched employee.
She's cussing under her breath as she rakes through the contents of her bag, and blowing a few pieces of wet bangs from over her eyes, she sees him in front of the empty locker. Her eyes pass over him; a bit older than her, dark, somewhat curly hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, and completely dry.
"You must be Gil Grissom," she says finally, her tongue coming out to sweep across her bottom lip, tasting the Nevada rain. He's taken aback for a moment, fully expecting to be a ghost here, as well. It was easier that way; in high school, in college, in his career; to be present, but unseen.
"How do you know," he challenges her, in that cool and calm voice of his, hoping she'll play into his beloved profiling game. She takes a moment to form her words, and he can't help the small smirk that falls into place on his lips.
"Well, for starters… you're standing in front of an empty locker." He crosses his arms over his chest, effectively hiding his badge now. "I've been here a little over a year and not once have I seen you in this building." His head tilts to the side. "And you're as dry as the Nevada desert, meaning you get to park where people like us don't." He was quick to pick up on her hint, 'people like us'. She wasn't a CSI. "So you're new. And the only memo we've gotten is about some guy and his bugs joining us from Minneapolis."
He's surprised that she even knows what 'entomology' is, but decides against pissing off the only person willing to talk to him thus far. His silence is all the confirmation she needs, and she nods her head. Finally, she finds the white lab coat, and her badge.
"I'm Catherine," she says, holding out her hand for him to shake. He accepts, taking her smaller, pale hand into his own larger, tanned one. And even drenched from head to toe, she's warm to the touch. "Your lab technician and blood splatter consultant," she introduces herself, and quickly lets her head fall to the side, as if rethinking her introduction. "Well, not your official blood splatter consultant. Ecklie hasn't given me official reign of that title, but just know I'm damn good at it," she says with a smile, the first smile he's seen since moving to the city.
"Catherine," he says, testing her name on his lips. Slowly, he lets her hand go. She flips her strawberry blonde hair from lab coat, and nods, sets her bag into her locker and moves towards the exit.
"See you around, bug man."
Had he… had he heard her right? Bug man?
He laughed.
–
His first shift proves to be somewhat of an adjustment. New regulations, new processing procedures, new people; but he catches on quickly. And by the time the shift comes to an end, he can hear his team, a team he's not yet been accepted into, conjugating near the locker room. They're deciding on dinner and drinks, and figuring out carpools. He's leaning against the door to his office, also bare and void of any personality, much like his apartment across town.
He watches as she tucks her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, telling her cohorts to go off without her, that she'll meet them at their destination in a few minutes… that there was something she had to take care of first. It's an innocent enough request, one that doesn't raise too much suspicion, so they leave without her.
And when they've left, she turns to face him, watching him… watching her. She walks slowly, confidently, towards him. And when she's within reach, starts speaking.
"So you survived your first day."
"There's still the ride home," he says with a hint of a smile.
"In any case… it's over, and I'm glad we haven't run you out of here yet."
"It'll take a lot more than the cold shoulder to force me out of his place," he assures her. She studies him, eyes scanning his face. He seems… sweet, in his own way, she decides. Though her coworkers haven't yet formed an opinion on him, she decides that she likes him.
"At the risk of being insubordinate, a couple of us are going to get dinner and drinks." She can already tell that he's uninterested. "Good way to get to know your team," she tries to persuade. But he politely declines. And she's somewhat disappointed, but refuses to let it show. "Alright, then." He watches as she tightens her raincoat around her small waist. Eight hours later, and the rain had come back with a vengeance. "Stay dry," she calls out with a trace of sarcasm.
And the guilt floods in. She was just trying to get him to open up, not fully aware that most socialization was his downfall. She was the complete opposite of what he would ever consider a friend, though. Back in college, his close group of entomology classmates were all he needed. They were socially awkward like him, kept to themselves like him, save for the "nerd fest" that would take place in either of their dorms when the Entomology Society of American put out a new journal. He was content with not having many friends, not having many personal or intimate relationships.
But he wanted to change. He didn't want to be that lonely anymore.
"Catherine," he calls out, stopping her down the hallway. She turns on her heels, her hair fanning around her as she does so. He see's the surprised expression on her face. At that, he locks up his office, and takes calculated steps towards her. She's standing her ground, and unbeknownst to him, she'll be the one. To change everything. "I'll take you to where people like me get to park," he says, fishing his keys out from his pocket.
Her tongue comes out to sweep over her bottom lip, and he swears she does that on purpose. He's only human, and drawn to it every time she does it. And with it, another human reaction, a tightness in his chest. There's no denying she's attractive, but in his experience, people like her weren't interested in people like him.
She follows him wordlessly to the covered parking area of the employees, wrapping her coat around her once again when the mist of heavy rain graces them. He leads her to his car, dry and untouched, unlocks it and opens the passenger door for her.
"A gentleman," she says, taking a seat and allowing him to close the door for her. And during the time it takes him to round the front of the car and open his own door, she's inspected the interior. Clean, organized. No personal touches. Just a laminated parking pass that hangs from the rearview mirror and the distinct smell of after-shave.
When he starts the engine, the music he had been listening to earlier that morning fills the car. He lowers the volume, but she recognizes the song.
"They say there's a place down in Mexico. Where a man can fly over mountains and hills, and he don't need an airplane or some kind of engine. And he never will."
"Mystery to Me," she says, pointing to the radio. He looks at her quizzically, before he realizes she's talking about the music. "That was a good album."
"One of their better ones, in my opinion."
"You've got to be kidding. Tusk is, and will always, be my favorite. Sisters of the Moon, now that's a song I can get behind."
He wonders, if it's always been this easy to get along with people, and if he's purposely denied himself this for years. He finds himself smiling, more and more, and in correlation with her presence. He takes note.
"Believe it or not, they were still good before Stevie Nicks came along," he argues playfully, putting the car in reverse and backing out of his spot. "Where are you," he asks, referring to her car.
"Across the street," she answers, readjusting herself in his front seat to get a better look at him. When they leave the safety of the parking tower, the rain comes down full force against the windshield. He's forced to turn on the wipers. He navigates them safely across the street, and she points out her car, in the middle of a now empty lot. He throws the car in park.
She doesn't make a move to exit his car, and he doesn't ask her why.
"So Minneapolis, huh," she says, her hands in her lap. He nods. "What brings you here? Besides the job and all." It's a question he's not asked much; even when he had moved from California to Minneapolis for his PhD.
"Well… I'm closer to home, which is nice, I suppose."
"And where's that," she's quick to follow.
"Santa Monica."
"Ah. A California boy." He nods. "Why'd you leave?"
"For my Doctorate in Biology at Chicago." The rain is still unrelenting, and she dreads getting out of the comfort of his car. She knows her coworkers are waiting for her, have been for a while, but it wouldn't surprise them if she never caught up to them. "Is it my turn yet," he asks, referring to her game of twenty questions. It's her turn to nod. "You don't want to be a lab technician forever." It's not a question, more of a statement, and she nods her head again.
"I'm in my last semester at West Las Vegas. I'll graduate in Medical Science. My plan is to move up to a level I CSI, hopefully," she says, slightly embarrassed. Here she sat, possibly with the smartest man in all of Las Vegas, complete with a PhD, and she barely had her associate's degree.
It's September, so he does the math and realizes he's only got her for maybe another three or four months before she'll be able to join the ranks, and he'll lose her to another team.
"It'll be here before you know it," he offers. She smiles.
"Just remember us little people," she says, softly. "Thanks for this," she motions to the inside of the car they both sit in, dry and safe from the rain.
"Anytime." He surprises himself with even how sincerely he sounds. He doesn't do this; he doesn't make friends on his first day… anywhere, and a pretty one, at that. "See you tomorrow," he says just above the rain, watching as she braces herself for the pelter outside. She's gone before he knows it, and he swallows a lump in his throat.
A/N: So there it is! God, I haven't written anything for Grillows or CSI in a LONG TIME. It STILL, ten years later, feels so hard to write Grissom's character. Hopefully you all enjoy!