Catherine Willows has a Secret

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: Maybe finished, maybe WIP. Do y'all want more?

Note: This is the first FF I've had the guts/motivation to publish, so be nice. Unbetaed cuz I'm painfully introverted like Grissom.

Sara Sidle awoke to dreams of scorching in the sun. Not the dry Nevada heat but a muggy heat, like the tropics. She had always struggled to stay warm in bed – except when sleeping with Grissom – but lately, she was convinced that she could feel her body temperature kicking up a notch. This morning it was much more intense. And there was a heaviness weighing upon her back.

She abruptly sat up in bed and noticed the man she had just woken up. "Grissom! When did you get back?" She was already regretting her reflex to sit up quickly and flopped back down to relief the dizziness enveloping her head. The return trip turned out to be a bad move for her stomach and she lurched toward the bathroom with Grissom in her wake, calling her name.

He was silent as she heaved, holding back her hair with one hand while running cool water on a washcloth with the other. When the episode subsided, she waved him out of the bathroom so that she could wash up and brush her teeth. Shit. Fuck. Damn. She was going to kill whoever ratted her out. She was so not ready to deal with this and him and his misery all at the same time.

She found him dressed and puttering in her kitchen. He looked good. Damn him for looking good. Well rested and…buoyant.

"Tea?" he asked. He picked up the box of chamomile from the counter and waited for her to nod her assent.

"Why are you here," she asked, positioning herself opposite him at the breakfast bar.

"I missed you." He set her tea down in front of her and began to prepare himself a cup. "No classes Monday, so I decided to take advantage of the long weekend. Sorry if I scared you. I wanted to surprise you." He lowered his voice conspiratorially and whispered, "but you can't let anyone know I'm in town."

"OK." OK. Not what she expected. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe she just had to cover her bout of sickness and enjoy his company. She beamed at him. He grinned back. They sat for a moment and just smiled at each other like idiots. "Well, luckily," Sara drawled, "I have the next two nights off."

He grin morphed into a smirk. "It's not a matter of luck." Her face fell. His dropped into a look of seriousness. "I hear you've been unwell."

Her eye darted away from him. "Yeah, well, you haven't been so well yourself. I'm probably just feeling the tail end of a virus."

"I'm considerably better than I was." His hand snaked out to take hers. Her eyes flicked to his face and then down to where their hands joined. They sat there for a while, fingers stroking, eyes avoiding. Sara silently vowed not to tell him, not when he was just going to leave again. Finally, he broke the silence. "Catherine thinks you might be pregnant."

She tried to tug her hand away but he held fast. She could feel his eyes boring into her head. She would not look at him. She would not cry. They struggled for control of her hand and the tears strained to escape her eyes. Her palms were sweating and so were his and finally the sweat enabled her to slip her hand free.

"What would you say if I was?" She looked up at him defiantly, tears flowing freely.

The corners of his mouth twitched up wistfully.

"I would ask you what I could do to help you." He started moving around the breakfast bar. Her eyes refused to follow him.

He moved to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I would speculate on whether our baby will have your eyes or mine, your diastema or my chin.

"I would buy you books on vegetarianism and pregnancy.

"I would ask if we could use my mother's name as a middle name if it's a girl.

"I would offer to do whatever you wanted to do about work, from quitting to become your male nanny to supporting you so that you could take time off.

"I would--"

"Griss." She turned and looked at him. "I might be pregnant. I've been… afraid to take a test… I've been afraid to even buy one." He enveloped her in a hug. "But I've been doing everything right," she mumbled into his chest, "…no alcohol…cut way back on the caffeine…trying to eat regularly."

"Why don't you take a shower while I run to the drugstore," he said pulling back and rubbing her upper arms. She nodded. "You need anything else? Groceries?" She shook her head and started to wander away to the bathroom.

At the doorway she stopped and turned. "Grissom? Thank you. I'm glad you came." And he merely smiled.