Ok, so, here's the deal...I hated the ending to One to Go, as a Grillows shipper, and as a CSI fan. I decided to take that annoyance out on poor Gil. lol So, I decided to play with my story and make it a small series. Not sure how long yet, but we'll just go with it. In this story, Ecklie isn't the Undersheriff.
Disclaimer in chapter 1.
Feedback is appreciated by not begged for. It's not in my character.
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It wasn't a feeling she was used to. That's for sure. Especially since….Chris, she supposed? Had it really been that long since Catherine Willows had shared her bed with a man? She wanted to laugh at the situation…
However, it was actually somewhat pathetic.
So, instead of laughing at her lack of ability to get a decent man, she settled for sighing contentedly. Catherine snuggled closer to the warm male chest that was pressed against her, tightening her arms around his waist, taking note in the way her legs were tangled in his.
It was a perfect feeling. They hadn't had sex, but this intimate proximity was enough to make Catherine feel closer to Gil then she ever had. They had never shared the same bed, even the nights when she went crawling to Gil after Eddie had beat her up, and this just felt so…perfect.
"You sleep okay?"
Catherine jumped slightly as she was torn from her thoughts, not even realizing until he spoke that Gil was awake. She looked up, meeting his gaze as he looked down at strawberry blonde, their faces inches apart. "I…yeah, better than I have in awhile," she admitted. "What time is it?"
"It's almost 12:30," Gil replied.
Catherine sighed, following that up with a small yawn. Even though she had slept well, she still wasn't getting enough sleep. Ever since Gil had left…well before that, even, she had been averaging four or five hours of sleep, if she was lucky. To say that her horrible sleeping patterns were taking a toll on her was an understatement.
"Damn," Catherine finally uttered. "I don't get how I can have a horrible shift, get knocked upside the head, and still not be able to sleep."
"Have you tried sleeping pills?" Gil asked.
Catherine sighed again, her hand absently coming up to stroke Gil's chest as she spoke. Gil stiffened slightly at the contact, but Catherine didn't notice as she said, "I have, but I don't like the groggy feeling I get when I get called into a case in the middle of the night."
"That's…understandable," Gil choked out, trying to ignore his body's response to her ministrations.
Catherine finally realized what she was doing, a tiny grin playing against her lips as she met Grissom's gaze. However, there was something weird about the look in his eyes. He looked somewhat aroused, yet…guilty, perhaps?
"Sorry, Gil," Catherine told him, though her tone betrayed her apologies. She moved her hand and settled it on his hip. "I didn't realize what I was doing."
"It's fine, Cath," he answered, hoping that his voice wouldn't betray him. Obviously, Catherine didn't know that he had gone back to Sara, that they were now an item again. How could she know, Gil, you haven't told her anything! His mind screamed at him.
"What's wrong, Gil?" Catherine purred, running her bare foot up and down his leg, her grin widening when she felt his body respond positively. On instinct, Catherine gently pressed her lips against Gil's, seeing his eyes widen before they fluttered closed, her former boss pressing his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. Catherine closed her eyes, snuggling even closer to Gil as she pulled his body to hers, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. Grissom's hand reached over to tangle in her hair, fingers running through the soft locks.
This is so wrong.
With a moan, he gently shoved the blonde away, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. "Cath. I…I can't do this," Gil sighed, detangling himself from her arms. Catherine lay there, a chill sweeping over her as his warm body left her. However, she sat up, looking up at Gil as she licked her swollen lips.
"What…what can't you do, Gil?" she asked, the hurt evident in her silky voice. It had been a risk, she knew it, to kiss her friend of over two decades, but it was one that she was willing to take. However, apparently it wasn't one that Gil wanted to take…
And that hurt.
"I can't sleep in the same bed as another woman…the same bed as you…without feeling like I'm…like I'm betraying her! And to kiss you…to allow you to kiss me…I'm sorry Catherine," Gil stammered, pulling on his pants and buttoning them up.
"You can't feel like you're betraying her?" Catherine repeated, still staring up at Gil from her spot on the bed. "What are you talking about Gil?!"
Gil stared at Catherine, guilt washing over his features. "I…I'm back with Sara," he finally admitted.
Catherine blinked, his words processing. She knew of their brief break up, that Sara had left Gil broken in pieces. However…this was the last thing that she expected. "You…you're back with her?' she whispered.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Gil hastily said, buttoning up his shirt.
"Since when?!" Gil stared at Catherine, as if trying to comprehend what she asked. Seeing his confused look, Catherine reiterated, "When did you go back to her?"
Gil swallowed, running a hand across his jaw. "When I left CSI, when I went to Costa Rica…I-I found her," Gil replied honestly. "I'm sorry, Cat. I should have told y-"
"Gil…we just slept together and the only thing that you can say is that you're sorry?" Catherine exploded, finally shoving the covers off of her bare legs as she stood up, facing him across the bed.
"We did not sleep together, Catherine!" Gil replied, angry at her for her reaction.
Catherine scoffed, glaring at Gil. "We shared a bed, Grissom!"
"For a little nap! Don't make me feel guilty for something that you made me do!" Gil snapped at her.
"Made you?!" Catherine shot back. "You could have told me no! That you didn't want to, or maybe you could have told me that you're back with Sara!"
"My personal life is none of your business, Catherine!" Gil replied, pointing a shaky finger across the bed at her.
"It's never been my business, has it Gil? You keep yourself holed up in your townhouse, not letting anyone in. Yet when it comes to me, you have to know every little detail. You judge me, you make me feel as if I am a horrible person!"
Gil opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the ringing of Catherine's cell phone. She glared at the offending piece of technology, snatching it up from her nightstand when she saw that it was Ecklie calling.
"Yeah, Willows," she answered, her tone making Gil want to cringe slightly. She was beyond pissed.
Then again, so was he.
He watched as Catherine listened intently, closing her eyes briefly. "That's fine, sir…I'm okay, just a little banged up. I feel fine." Silence filled the room as Catherine briefly allowed Ecklie to talk. "It's honestly nothing that some makeup won't cover. I'll be in as soon as possible," she told the man. Yet another double, she silently grumbled as she closed her phone and looked across the room at Grissom.
"Get out," she ground out, pointing to the door. "And lock the door on your way out, and make sure that you lose my key. I don't want to see you here again."
Gil blinked, his anger evaporating. "Catherine…I'm sorry. I can't help that I ended back with Sara. I…I love her, and nothing will change that."
Catherine sniffled slightly, trying to ignore the tears that were welling in her eyes. "That's great, Gil. It doesn't help that I care for you, that I always will."
"I want to marry her."
Catherine stood stock still, staring at Gil as he met her ocean blue eyes. If he had physically punched her in the stomach, she wouldn't have been more gutted.
She swallowed slightly, blinking as she closed her mouth. Catherine shook her head slightly, turning her back so that he wouldn't see the tears leaking out of her eyes. "Gil…just get out," she finally managed.
"It doesn't change how I feel about you Catherine," Gil softly stated. "I still care about you as a friend, and will always be here for you."
Without a reply, Catherine walked to the bathroom, shutting the door carefully.
So much for sleep.
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Catherine sighed as she walked into her office, noting that Nick, Riley, and Ray all stopped talking the second she walked in; well, Nick and Riley stopped talking, and Ray simply stood there. Catherine wanted to comment on the way their eyes immediately found the ground, rather than them looking at her face. She didn't blame them though. It WAS nasty looking. The bruise on her face was stark against her soft skin. She had planned to do a makeup job on her face to at least try to cut back on some of the bruise, but in the time that elapsed between her kicking Grissom out of her house…her life…and emerging from the bathroom, Ecklie had left two text messages and a voicemail asking her first where she was, then when she might be in, and finally how far away from the lab she was. Apparently he had an "important" meeting, which was much more important then Catherine making herself presentable, much less her getting an adequate amount of sleep. Granted, she wasn't going to be going back to sleep after her big blow up with Gil, but still, the courtesy of allowing her to start her shift when she was supposed to versus ten hours earlier would have been nice.
"All right, guys," Catherine spoke up, drawing herself out of her thoughts when she realized there was an awkward silence in the room. "We're shorthanded tonight, so we're gonna have to go our separate ways for the night. Riley, you have a break and enter," she paused, handing out the slip to Riley, before handing a paper to Nick. "Nicky, you have an arson, and Ray, you're with me on a dead body found in the desert."
Quietly, Nick and Riley took their assignments, leaving the office with a brief goodbye each. Catherine glanced at Ray, seeing the older man's wariness as he pondered what to say. "Grab your kit, Ray, and we'll get going in a couple of seconds. I'll meet you by my truck?" she suggested.
"Okay, Catherine," Ray answered, turning to leave. "And for the record?" Waiting to make sure that Catherine was looking at him, he brushed his fingers against his own face and said, "That looks cool. It kinda says 'Don't mess with me'," Ray told his boss.
Catherine watched after him, smiling slightly at the enigmatic man's words. "Hmm," she pondered softly. She laughed at herself, shaking her head as she walked to her desk, briefly flipping through her messages that the front desk had taken for her. One from Lindsey asking her if she could spend the night at a friend's, something that Catherine had consented to already. There was one from the D.A. about possibly setting up an appointment to go over some evidence, followed by one from Ecklie thanking her for coming in early, and then one from the mother of an accident victim asking her whether she had any new information about the car crash that had taken the life of her seventeen year old.
Catherine scowled, however, when she came across the fifth one. Gil was under the name, followed by the statement I'm sorry. Crumpling that message, she tossed it in the trashcan before setting the other ones on her desk. She'd have to call back the D.A. and mother back tomorrow before she went to bed, assuming that Ecklie didn't want her to pull a triple.
Grabbing her kit, camera, and keys, Catherine exited her office, making sure that the door was locked behind her. She made her way to the parking lot, seeing Ray standing next to the truck, his back to her, staring out into the parking lot, deep in thought. Catherine opened her mouth to see if he wanted to drive when Ray spoke before her.
"You want to drive?"
Catherine closed her mouth, slightly taken aback and wondering how he knew that she was there. "Uh, yeah, that's fine," she finally answered, unlocking the car with the keyless device in her hand. "Let's get going."
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A few hours later, Catherine was back in her office, staring blankly at her laptop as the two hundred – no, make that two hundred and eight – pictures she had taken at the crime scene uploaded to the device. She yawned slightly, sipping her coffee as she glanced at her watch. Only a couple more hours until she would hopefully be able to catch some sleep. Granted, she could…or rather…should just leave Nick in charge, but she hated to do that two nights in a row. She was the supervisor, after all, and Catherine felt she had to set a standard for the crime scene investigators that she was assigned to look over. Not only that, but this new case seemed like it would be pretty easy to solve, at least based on a set of fingerprints they had found at the scene.
Her computer chimed, letting her know that the pictures were finished uploading. She flipped through them quickly, making sure that they were saved on her backup drive. Catherine yawned again, standing up and walking out of her office to the lab, finding Ray where she expected him: watching Mandy carefully as she ran the prints through the system.
Wordlessly, she joined the pair, watching as a match was made to a print and a man's face popped up on the screen.
"James Cena," Ray read aloud, seeing the sullen look on the criminal's face in the picture.
"Arrested for breaking and entering, armed robbery, and for rape in the second degree," Catherine read his rap sheet. "Seems like a good enough reason to get him to come into talk. I'll talk to Brass about getting a warrant." Seeing the excited look on Ray's face, Catherine smiled slightly despite her exhaustion. "Don't celebrate yet, Ray," she told him. "We still need to actually connect him to the crime, and figure why his fingerprint was on our victim's wallet."
"It's not that, Catherine," Ray answered. "I'm just looking forward to the interrogation itself." Seeing the confused look on his bosses' face, he reiterated, "I haven't sat in on an interrogation yet."
"Ah," Catherine answered. "Well, give it an hour or so and we'll get the show on the road hopefully."
~/~
Nearly two hours later, James Cena was sitting in interrogation, a scowl on his face as he looked across the table at Catherine, Ray, and Brass. The man was tall, well built, and very handsome. He had boyish features that would have drawn Catherine to him easily if he wasn't the suspect in a murder case. His blue eyes were cloudy when he finally spoke. "Care to tell me what was so fuckin' important that you had to wake me up and bring me in at seven AM?" the man asked, glaring at each person in the room briefly, his gaze lingering over Catherine for too long for her liking. She brushed it off, however, and spoke.
"Well, Mr. Cena, it appears that your fingerprint was found on the wallet of a woman that was found dead in the desert last night," Catherine replied, tossing a set of the crime scene photos down in front of Cena casually. "Care to explain that?"
Cena smirked as he stared back at Catherine, not even glancing down at the photos. "Looks like someone did a number on you, lady. Who'd you piss off?" he asked. "Boyfriend? Husband? Lesbian lover?"
Catherine raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as she sized the man up in front of her. "You think that someone did a number on me?" she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear casually.
"Oh, yeah…" Cena answered. ""You got fucked up, honey."
"You should see the guy." Catherine wanted to laugh at the brief look of shock that crossed his face, but before he could brush it off, she stated, "The wallet?"
"I was at a bar. Some lady dropped her wallet in front of me, and I picked it up for her," Cena explained. "It must have been her."
"It would help if you actually looked at the photo, Mr. Cena," Catherine told him.
"Don't need to. That's the only wallet I've picked up…besides my own…in the last two weeks."
"See, that's interesting, Mr. Cena," Catherine answered smoothly, not breaking eye contact as Brass and Ray let her verbally spar with the man. She leaned forward, staring at the man. "If that were true, then you would have had a full set of prints on the wallet. Not just one single, perfect print. Care to explain that?"
Cena stared back at Catherine. Ray looked between the two, fascinated as his boss worked to bring down the suspect. Cena finally spoke, anger in his voice as he talked. "See, that's the problem with you bitches," he said, leaning back.
"There's no need-" Brass started to say, only to stop his reprimand as Catherine lightly put a hand on his arm, making sure to keep her steely gaze on the suspect in front of them. Brass backed off, knowing that Catherine had control of the interrogation at the moment.
"What bitches?" Catherine challenged him. "Bitches like me? Or bitches like Nina James, who you raped? Or bitches like Jane Smelders, who you brutally murdered?!" With that, she held up a picture of the deceased, shoving it into Cena's face.
"I paid my time for Nina!" Cena yelled, standing up and leaning across the table, swiping her hand out of his face, getting into Catherine's face. She refused to back off, even as she felt Brass and Ray tense beside her. She knew that this was dangerous, that she was provoking a criminal, and that it might not end well. He could take a swipe at her, or attack her across the table, but Catherine really didn't care. She was pissed.
She was pissed at this man across the table from her; she was pissed at Ecklie for putting her in a position that left her with hardly any sleep at a double; she was pissed at Grissom.
She was just pissed.
Catherine stood up as well, her chair scraping loudly across the floor of the small room, her face inches from his. "We have you cold, Cena!" Catherine said. "This is a murder charge. You can't weasel your way out of this one!"
"There's nothing to weasel out of," Cena said through gritted teeth. "I did not murder that woman. I've never even seen her before in my life!"
Catherine smirked, shaking her head. "See, that's where you're full of it," she told him. "Cause a minute ago, you were picking up her wallet from the ground. So which is it? You picked up her wallet, you've never seen her…" Catherine trailed off, lowering her voice before finishing. "Or you murdered her."
"I DID NOT MURDER HER!" Cena roared, flipping over the table. It was only quick instincts that Ray and Brass shot back from their seats at the same time as Catherine slid back, the edge of the heavy table nearly landing on her foot. It seemed like slow motion as Cena leapt over the table, intent on getting to Catherine, but Ray and Brass each grabbed an arm, hauling him away and out the door.
"YOU BITCH! I'LL GET YOU, YOU BITCH!" Catherine could hear him yelling. She stood in the interrogation room, frozen, staring at the uprooted table as she listened to Cena spouting off threats down the hallway. Blood was rushing to her head.
She drew in a shaky breath, leaning over and putting her hands on the edge of the table.
She was gonna be sick.
"What the hell was that all about?!" Catherine closed her eyes as Brass came into the interrogation room, his hand gripping her upper arm, turning her so that she looked at him, a blank gaze on her face as she slowly opened her eyes. "Do you have a death wish, Willows!? What were you thinking? WERE you even thinking?"
"I…" Catherine trailed off, her blue eyes meeting the angered gaze of Jim Brass. The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins just seconds before long gone as she sagged slightly and offered a feeble apology. "I'm sorry…"
"You're sorry? Catherine, you broke every department rule and regulation in the book back there! You're lucky to be alive right now!" Brass dressed her down, his temper through the roof as he refused to notice her distress.
"Don't you think I know that, Jim?!" Catherine finally yelled back, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry, what more do you want me to say!"
Her raised voice seemed to snap Jim out of his anger. Seeing the darkened bruise on her face, the green tinge that come across her face, and the fact she was breathing a little harder than usual…something woke up in him. He loosened his grip on her arm guiltily, briefly wondering and praying that he didn't leave any more bruises on her fair skin.
"Catherine…you need a vacation. You've been working your ass off since Gil left. You have plenty of vacation on the books; why don't you take some time off, do something? You're obviously stressed and exhausted," Jim said softly.
"What am I supposed to do, Jim? I have no one...nothing to go to," Catherine bit back the tears that had been threatening to fall all day as she looked at Jim. He stared back, meeting her gaze. "Look…I'm sorry. I'm stressed and angry, and I took it out on the suspect because he was the next closest thing to my anger. I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."
With that, Catherine turned to leave, not even waiting for Jim's response. However, before she could make it out the door, she saw a figure standing there.
The last person she wanted to see.
Gil.
~/~
End Part 2
