Falling for the Wrong One

Rating: Mature (finally)

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: Chapter nine! Thanks for all the reviews and favorites, and views! I hope you guys are still enjoying this story! I apologize for any grammar mistakes!

It's the end of May, and the heat is starting to slowly creep back. She spends most, if not all, of her time at his place. She slept there after shift, ate meals in his kitchen, showered in his bathroom, lounged on his couch on her day off. And though she absolutely loved it, part of her missed her own space. She missed her bed, her static radio, her coffee pot that only worked when plugged in a certain way.

So one evening, while preparing for their shift crammed in his bathroom, she tilts her head as she watches him fasten his belt around his waist. He was shirtless. He catches her eyes in the mirror, grins at her, and she grins back. He steps up behind her, his chest coming into contact with her back, and he reaches around her for his toothbrush.

"What do you say… after work, we head back to my place?" It only takes him a second to nod his head, putting his free hand on her waist as he brushes his teeth.

"Sure," he answers. Truthfully, he knew that she was missing her own place, and he didn't blame her.

"Besides… it's been some time since I've been there. Hopefully it hasn't burnt down," she jokes, and he chuckles behind her.

So when the time comes, he packs a bag, they take his car to work, and she goes into the building first. They still weren't telling people about their relationship, and she was okay with that. But as she passes Tadero's office, she bites her lip, and wonders if Gil has made the leap to tell their supervisor. She hasn't signed any paperwork, which tells her he hasn't. And not that it was a big deal to her, but she knew what kind of trouble they could get into if he didn't do it soon.

She's starting a pot of coffee in the empty break room when she hears a knock on the door frame. She looks over her shoulder, and fully turns when she sees Tadero standing behind her.

"Hey, you have a minute," he asks, and she nods. Silently gulping, there's a million things running through her head; had she fucked up a crime scene, destroyed a piece of evidence? She follows him back to his office, and he motions for her to take a seat. "It seems you've made friends rather quickly," he says, effectively confusing her. He lets a moment of silence pass between them, before pointing to a set of stapled papers in front of him. "I have a declaration of intent, on my desk… signed by Gil Grissom."

She squirms in her seat, her heart doing double-time. She had half-expected him to keep their relationship under wraps for her sake; she had a reputation here… where he was still a ghost.

"Is that so," she asks, leaning a bit forward to see for herself. But Tadero snatches the papers and holds it up for her to see. And sure enough, as clear as day, his signature is at the bottom of the paper.

"Catherine… what's going on," he asks, a hint of disappointment evident in his voice. She knew Jimmy was just trying to look out for her; he always had, ever since he had stumbled in on her taking her clothes off for a living. "What is this," he says, nodding towards the papers again.

She's slightly caught off-guard by his disappointment, had thought that he'd be happy for her if anything.

"We're together," she confirms, straightening up in her chair, and feeling herself go on the defense. "And we're going through the motions, so I don't see what the big deal is here."

"What the big deal- Catherine, you've only met the man!"

Her jaw is tight, and she wants nothing more than to snap back at the older man. Who in the hell did he think he was? Her fucking father?

"I used to take my clothes off for a living… for men I've never seen before in my life." The mention of her past profession makes him squirm in his seat. "And this bothers you?" She makes a move to get up from her chair, to leave his office and get to work, but his voice stops her.

"Catherine. I'm just… I'm just looking out for you," he says apologetically, letting his head fall slightly, then hands her the papers and a pen. She's tempted to snatch them out from his hands, but she gently accepts them… and with shaking hands. Signing her name above the printed letters: Catherine Flynn.

"I can look after myself, thanks," she says softly, refusing to stay here a second longer. She gathers herself, and her bag, and heads for the locker room. She stops in her tracks when Gil comes into view, sitting in front of his own locker and collecting himself before their shift officially starts. Slowing her pace as to not make her presence known, she watches him.

Roughly nine months ago, he was nothing more to her than a new face, a new coworker. She had always found it effortless on her part to make friends with new people and he had been no exception. Other people had found him weird… strange, but she had saw more in him than other people did. He was kind, very intelligent, quiet… thoughtful. It was one of the most meaningful relationships she suspects she's ever had… and it's while watching him, that she realizes her feelings run deeper than she originally thought.

He suddenly looks her way, feeling her eyes on him, and smiles when he sees her. She finds herself smiling back at him, wanting nothing more than to close and lock the door behind her, pull him up from the bench, and kiss him senseless.

–

It's the end of shift when she heads to his office. Nothing about it strikes suspicion with the others, not even when she closes the door. He knows it's her without even picking up his head, but at the sound of his door locking, he does look up.

She doesn't say a word, just slowly stalks around his desk, until she's standing close. He turns, in his chair, to face her. It helps that he's kept all the blinds closed, she thinks, as she bends at the waist. His eyes widen in surprise as she lowers her face, pressing her lips to his in a sweet kiss.

His face between her two hands, he's pleasantly surprised that she's kissing him, so much that he's slow to respond. Just as she moves to pull away from him, guilty for putting him in such a compromising position, she feels his hand slide against her waist. He pulls her back down, and she laughs into his mouth as she tumbles closer to him. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, and she moans against him as his tongue makes contact with hers.

"I think we have some celebrating to do tonight." She makes herself comfortable against his side, knowing fully well she'll never be able to do this again for a long time.

"Do we," he asks, giving her his full attention. She gently breaks away from him, moving around to sit in front of his desk.

"Tadero pulled me into his office earlier tonight. One guess as to why."

That boyish grin graces his face and she absolutely can't wait to get him back to her apartment in a few minutes. He knows exactly what she's talking about, and is slightly relieved for it all to be over. It had been nerve-racking alone to ask Jimmy for Catherine to join Dayshift months ago, but going in to confess their little secret was torture.

They spend the rest of their shift in his office, until it's time to clock out and head to her place. They leave together this time, side by side. The drive back to her apartment is quiet, with her hand in his, but full of tension… the kind that was making her shift uncomfortably in his passenger seat. Her excitement slowly fades, as they pull up to her building.

Something seems off, and her suspicions are confirmed as they ascend the staircase. Her door is ajar, nearly broken from the frame. And when she slowly pushes it open, her face falls in defeat.

Clothes were scattered about, pieces of broken glass crunch under her feet as she moves through her small living room. The kitchen table flipped, one of her chairs broken into pieces. Her kitchen trashed, her coffee pot smashed and broken in the sink, the remains of old coffee grounds scattered about the floor.

Gil stands in the doorway, watching solemnly as she moves through her apartment. The rational part of him wants to tell her to make sure she has her valuables, to check for her personal and financial records, but it's when she sees the smashed glass that once housed her butterfly that makes him swallow those words.

Carefully, she picks it up, brushes the broken glass away from the stiff butterfly and looks up at him with sad eyes. He feels a lot of things in this moment, but the anger was hard to swallow. He decides then and there that he doesn't want her coming back here, ever again. It doesn't matter to him how many more months on her lease, or how much it would cost him to break her contract.

"Get your things. Whatever is important." His voice bounces off the walls in the quietness of her living room.

From where she sits on the edge of her bed, she looks up at him.

He doesn't know what else to do, except step over the broken glass, towards her closet where he knows he'll find something… anything to put her belongings in. He places an old, black bag that's still got pieces of glitter clinging to the material. She hasn't used this bag in years.

She watches as he picks pieces of clothing up from her floor, shaking them free of any shards of glass, and carefully folding them into her bag. She swallows hard, places her broken gift into the bag as well, and helps him with the remainder of her clothes. She moves towards her closet, rummages around until she's coming back with a tattered folder, one containing important things. It's the last thing that gets placed in the bag before he zips it up, hoists it over his shoulder, and ushers her out of the apartment.

–

He unlocks the door for her, allows her in first as he carries their bags over his shoulder. He dumps them in his bedroom, where she follows. He stands there, unsure of what to do. It takes no time at all for her to walk into his embrace, his arms instinctively going around her. She relaxes against him, lets her eyes close, and the exhaustion takes over.

She doesn't care that her apartment is a mess, doesn't care that she'll probably have to find a new place to live. She only cares about being here... with him.

She gently breaks away from him, guides him to the bathroom, where she turns on the shower. Steam slowly fills the small space, and the mirror fogs up as she starts to peel away her clothing. When all that's left is her bra and underwear, she moves closer to him. Reaching for his jacket, she slips it past his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor behind him. Working the buttons through their holes on his shirt is next, until that slips to the floor too. At the sight of his bare chest, she inhales slowly. With trembling hands, she reaches for his belt. She's able to unfasten it, and he looks down at her as she pulls it through the loops on his pants.

Her fingers work on the button of his trousers, but his own hand comes up to lift her chin, tilting her head back. Her eyes drag up his body until she's staring up at him. There's so many things he wants to tell her in this moment; how much she absolutely means to him, how he'd do anything in his power to make sure she was safe, how much he loves her. Words don't seem necessary though, so he grabs the back of her neck and pulls her closer to him, his lips descending on hers. She grabs hold of his arms, clutching at his biceps as the water continues to pour behind them.

She pours everything she's got into this kiss, every ounce of love and loyalty she has in her body, as the rest of their clothes fall away. He refuses to break their heated kiss as he pushes open the shower door, walking her into the shower until her back hits the slippery tile. His entire body presses against her, and she grips harder at his arms. It's a wonderful sensation, the feeling of his tongue against hers as the warm water sprays over their heated skin. Her breasts are pressed against his chest, and his hands are everywhere; he can't get enough of her.

–

She closes the blackout curtains as he pulls back the covers on the bed. She slips in next to him, wearing one of his shirts that are too big. And as soon as her head hits the pillow, his arms slip around her and she falls into a slumber.

Hours later, her eyes slowly open to the sun still in the sky. The bed is empty next to her, and she falls back against the mattress. Turning her head, she can see the alarm clock that reads 3:43 in the afternoon. She feels as if she's slept for an hour at most, but still rolls out of bed.

She pads into the kitchen, grateful that they're both off tonight, and leans against the kitchen island. He hands her a cup of coffee, mixed with two sugars and one creamer; just how she liked it.

"What time did you wake up," she asks softly, sipping at the hot beverage.

"About an hour ago," he states, moving about his kitchen with his own cup of coffee. She wants so much to tell him about what happened last night, because she knows exactly who trashed her apartment, and she has a feeling he does, too.

Her shoulders slump, and she wraps both hands around her coffee mug.

"About last night-" She starts off, and he's quiet. "Thank you," she says softly. "For… being there." She doesn't quite know where to begin, with how to explain who Eddie is and why he's doing the things he's doing. So she just dives in. "You met Eddie… the night of my birthday." He nods his head, to show her that he's listening and that he's following. "I met him a couple of years ago… while I was stripping." The words feel vile, and they're getting caught in her throat. "We dated for a while. He was a good guy… until he wasn't."

He looks down at the ground, already haven formed an opinion on the other man the night of her birthday. If he was capable of all this destruction, he sure as hell didn't want to find out what he was capable of with another human, much less, Catherine.

"You can't go back there," is all he says, shaking his head. He couldn't ever live with himself if he let her go back, and something happen to her.

"My lease isn't up until the end of July. I can't afford-"

"That doesn't matter. I'll pay for it," he says, surely. "I'll pay for all of it. I just… you can't go back there, Catherine," he says seriously. She swallows hard, nods. She knows she'll have to look for a new apartment, but worried that she can't afford anything more than what she has now. At least… not without working two jobs, anyway. "You can stay here until you find something new… if you want."

A/N: Still not sure which kind of ending I'm going to write; I've got it narrowed down to two, completely different endings. One happy and one... kind of happy. Haha thanks again for reading!