Hey, thanks for all the reviews! It's people like you that make me want to continue writing. I'm having fun with this story, even if it is an angst-o-meter for our dear Catherine. Please continue to read and review, as it means soooo much to me.

And here we go with chapter three!

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It took all that Catherine Willows had not to snarl at the man standing in front of her in the doorway. So many emotions ran through her at once. The anger that had been coursing through her veins moments ago returned with a vengeance, and she wanted nothing more than to release an expletive filled tirade at Grissom…and to possibly throttle him. She wasn't one to condone violence, but at the moment the man in front of her wasn't Gil Grissom: friend of two decades; he was Gil Grissom: the enemy. Catherine felt hurt at the fact that Grissom had not only shared the same bed and allowed her to kiss him – and kissed her back, for that matter – when he knew that he was going to go back to Sara as soon as he left.

Catherine felt betrayed. He had confided so much in her that one night following the Layla Wells case, even more than usual, as they walked along the strip, talking about life and how Gil planned to 'up the ante.' Gil had told her that he and Sara were taking a break, and he wasn't sure where they were going from there.

But she supposed Costa Rica had changed that.

Blue met blue, and Catherine had a slight flashback to Howard Delhomme. This time, she was holding her intense gaze with Gil Grissom, not blinking or breaking eye contact, with Jim Brass taking Gil's role as he glanced between the pair, tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Jim opened his mouth to comment, to try to break some of that tension, when Catherine spoke.

"I have nothing to say to you," she growled, stalking past Gil in the doorway, not caring that her shoulder forcefully bumped his as she brushed past him and made her way to her office, the slam of the door echoing down the hallway.

Gil lifted his head to the ceiling, his eyes taking in the tile briefly before he closed them, attempting to relieve some of the tension out of his neck. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see Brass looking back at him, an intuitive look on his face.

Brass wasn't sure what to say. Jokes seemed inappropriate at the moment, so he settled with a courteous, "Grissom, how are you?" followed by a firm handshake.

"I'm…I'm okay," Gil answered, his gaze flicking over his shoulder towards Catherine's office as he stepped into the interrogation room. "Yourself?"

"Same, same," Brass answered offhandedly, straightening his tie as he looked quizzically at Grissom. He wanted so badly to ask what was going on, but in the end, it really wasn't any of his business. Granted, it would probably help to explain Catherine's reckless behavior in interrogation and the anger that seemed to be coursing through her body, but…if Gil or Catherine were having a quarrel, then that was between them. It wasn't Brass' problem, or even his opinion, but Gil seemed to have messed up bad this time.

Gil cleared his throat softly, running a hand over his unshaven chin. "Look, I'm going to go…brave the elements and try to talk to Cath," Grissom told Brass.

"Should I send out a search party in an hour if we don't see you?" It was a lame joke, they both knew it, but Gil still was able to smile a little.

"That may not be a bad idea," he answered distractedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he awkwardly made his way to Catherine's office.

The door was still shut, a clear indication that she wanted to be left alone. If anyone at the crime lab learned anything within their first day working, it was that if the door to Catherine's office was closed, chances were that she was in a very bad mood. Any other time, whether she was busy, doing paperwork, or on an important phone call even, it was at least cracked open so that visitors could talk to her.

But that wasn't the case at the moment. Catherine wanted to be left alone, and the wood separating her from the rest of the crime lab was the clear indication.

Gil nearly turned and walked out of the lab, knowing that behind the door was five-foot-three inches of pissed off supervisor…anger that was directed specifically at him. However...Gil had a feeling that if he didn't at least attempt to smooth things over, then their friendship would be over for good. Catherine knew that he was in the building, and that he wasn't there on a social visit. Somehow, he figured that despite her lack of an invitation to come into her office, Gil would be the one held accountable for not making an effort to come and patch things over with her.

Before he could lose his nerve, Gil raised his hand and knocked softly on the door.

Catherine rolled her eyes as she heard the knock on the door, shuffling through her paperwork in order to try to have some sort of order to it before she went home to get some sleep…or at least trying to. She was exhausted after working the last eighteen hours, but her confrontation with Cena had left her mind working in overtime. She was almost positive that it would take her at least a couple hours to drift off, and even then it would be a restless sleep.

There was another knock, the same hesitant rapping that had filled her office moments before. Catherine knew who it was after ten years of working together. In fact, she knew who was at the door without even looking nine times out of ten simply based of the tapping on the frame.

She continued straightening her paperwork, choosing to ignore the man behind the threshold. Catherine closed her eyes briefly, wondering if it actually was the best choice to just ignore Grissom. It took a lot of guts to confront someone when they were furious, but…that was the point. She was pissed off. Nevertheless, Catherine knew that Grissom would be outside her door waiting for her until she left. So, instead of telling him to leave her alone, she left her messy paperwork, shut off her computer, grabbed her purse and keys, and walked out of her office.

Right into the startled form of Gil Grissom.

Gil jumped slightly as she nearly walked into him, his hands instinctively coming up to rest on her shoulders to stop her. Catherine visibly flinched, and Gil quickly released his hands from her upper arms, not wanting to provoke her anymore when he saw the look on her face. Catherine wanted to scream as his hands left her arms, pain filling her heart as the physical contact left her body. Her arms burned, longing for his touch even when she was so mad at him. She unconsciously brought her hands up to her biceps, wishing that his hands were still resting on her arms. Realizing that he was watching her, she continued her motions, crossing her arms as she glared at Gil.

"You'd better make this fast. I have been working the last eighteen hours and I'm beyond exhausted. What do you want?" Catherine's tone was a mixture of anger, hurt, and exhaustion, Gil realized. He wasn't sure what to say...so he settled for the obvious.

"I'm sorry."

Catherine had to resist the bitter laugh that was threatening to escape her lips. "That's it?" she asked. She turned and walked back into her office, beckoning Grissom to follow her. He shuffled behind her, wondering for a moment if it was safe. Grissom chastised himself for the thoughts, rendering them as ridiculous. It's not like she was going to stab him with her letter opener or something. He turned and quietly shut the door before turning his attention back to a furious Catherine.

Grissom wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. Catherine wasn't making this easy. "What more do you want me to say, Cat?" he finally asked, his eyes not meeting hers. "I screwed up." He wanted to say that they should never have slept in the same bed, that they should have never kissed, but he just knew that that wouldn't go over well with Catherine. "I should have told you about Sara," he finally finished, looking up at her.

Catherine met his intense gaze, unsure of how to respond. She hated that he had deceived her, that he hadn't told her that he was back with Sara. However…seeing the sincere, pleading look on his face…she just couldn't say no to his apology.

For a moment, she thought back to the Wendy Barger case. She had taken a case personally where the wife had been cheating, saying the wrong things to the husband. All she could think of was Eddie, and when Gil had called her on it, she took it to the heart, insulting him over his lack of human contact outside of work. They had argued, she gave him the silent treatment, and it was only when Gil had proved her theory wrong that she would admit that she had overreacted.

"I guess we better go talk to the husband. I mean, unless you think I'm going to compromise the integrity of the case again," Catherine had conceded, but she couldn't help but throw in the comment at the end.

Gil had just stared at her, contemplating his words before finally asking, "Look, could we have a truce?"

"I would love to," was her simple response. All was forgiven.

Realizing she hadn't said anything for several moments, she blinked and met Grissom's expectant gaze. Finally she sighed, shaking her head. "It's fine, Gil," Catherine told him.

You're such a fucking liar, Willows.

Gil continued to hold her gaze, finally speaking up after a few long moments of silence. "I'm so sorry. I just…I wish there was something that I could do or say to make everything better again between us," Gil told Catherine, resisting the urge to bring a hand up to brush against her cheek, to cup her face in his hands.

Leave Sara. Leave Sara and be with me. Her mind was screaming it. Her lips itched to state what her brain…what her heart…was telling her.

But she couldn't.

Not without ruining the single best relationship – make that friendship – that she had in her life. Maybe in a past life, it would have worked. Maybe if she had made a move years ago…before Eddie, Chris, Sara, everyone, then it would have worked. However, she wasn't willing to risk a friendship with Gil over a broken heart.

"I know, Gil," she finally whispered, a tear slipping out from her eyes. "I do too. I don't…" she hesitated, taking a moment to compose herself, glad that they were in the confines of her office so that none of her coworkers were seeing her. Granted, she didn't really care about the office gossip mill, but there was something about her coworkers and colleagues seeing her in weakness that unnerved her. "I don't want to be mad at you. I'm sorry too," Catherine finally finished, wiping the tear away as it trailed down her cheek.

On instinct, Gil reached forward, pulling Catherine into his arms, holding her closely. For a moment, she tensed against his body before melting into his touch, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. "It's okay, Catherine," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you. You know that."

"I know, Gil. And I'll be here for you." Even if it means my heart will be broken.

They held each other for a few moments longer before simultaneously pulling apart, Gil's hands on her forearms. This time she didn't tense; Catherine allowed him to keep his hands there. "Why don't we grab breakfast, Cat?" Gil suggested.

"Gil, I'm exhausted, I'm not sure if I'd be good company," Catherine told him honestly. And it was true. She wasn't trying to weasel out of breakfast with him. She was just so tired after an emotional thirty-six hour period of running on very little to eat and sleep that included her getting whacked in the face due to an errant elbow and verbally sparring with a murder suspect.

"Come on, Cat," Gil said with a smile, that smile that he knew she wouldn't be able to say no to. "If I know you, you've worked the last eighteen hours and have maybe eaten some yogurt, perhaps a banana, and had about…oh, seven or eight cups of coffee?" he asked.

Catherine couldn't help but grin back at him. "It was yogurt, a pear, and only four cups of coffee," she corrected him, playfully sticking her nose in the air. She thought, then added, "Or maybe it was seven. I lost track."

Gil laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. "Come on, let's get you some real food before I send you off to bed!"

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An hour later, they were digging into their respective breakfasts: Catherine had herbal tea, scrambled egg beaters, and a fruit cup while Gil was having coffee, scrambled eggs, and wheat toast. They were laughing about the fact that Nick had actually ate a fly at breakfast a few weeks ago, having the same playful banter that they typically exchanged before they had their argument yesterday morning.

"So, uh…any wedding plans?" Catherine casually asked after a break in their banter. She hated to ask, but her curiosity had overridden her judgment at the moment.

"Nothing really," Gil told her honestly. "We just know that we want to do it within the year. Nothing too big, just our closest family and friends."

Catherine nodded, deep in thought. She knew that neither Gil nor Sara had any family, save for Gil's mother, or at least family that they cared about enough to invite to such an intimate event. Their friends were what made up the foundation of their love. "That sounds good, Gil. I'm…I'm happy for you too, I really am," she told him, briefly wondering if he sensed the hesitation in her voice. And she wasn't even sure why she was hesitating. She was happy for Gil and Sara. She just wished that she could have what Sara had. It actually reminded Catherine of a song a friend had passed off to her a few years ago that some independent artist had done. While the lyrics, beats, and tempos were horrible, the chorus of the song actually described exactly how Catherine was feeling at the moment. I'll have…what she's having...gimme gimme gimme gimme what she's got! was how it went. Or something like that. All she knew was that she envied Sara Sidle.

But she would never admit that out loud.

Gil opened his mouth to reply when Catherine's cell phone rang, cutting off his response. She glanced down at the screen. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Catherine moaned when she saw Ecklie's number on the display. For a second, she seriously considered ignoring the call. However, if she knew Ecklie, he'd keep calling her until she answered. "I'm sorry Gil," she said apologetically before flipping her phone open. Maybe it's a good thing Gil convinced her to go to breakfast, because if Ecklie would have woken her forty-five minutes into her sleep, she would have been ready to castrate him. "Willows," Catherine answered, hoping that her voice wasn't as whiny as she thought.

"Hey, Cath," Ecklie answered cheerfully, and she cringed inwardly at the use of her nickname. There were very few people who could get away with calling her Cath and it not grating at her nerves. Ecklie was NOT one of them. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to go to bed," Catherine answered shortly. "In case you forgot, I worked the last eighteen hours straight."

"Oh, too bad," Ecklie answered, his tone indicating that he was distracted and that he wasn't even really paying attention to her.

"Too bad?!" Catherine asked, indignant. "Thanks, Conrad, for that."

"I didn't mean it that way, Catherine," Ecklie snapped. "I just…something came up here, and I needed a favor."

"What?" Catherine asked warily, looking across the table at Grissom. He gave her a small smile, but in that smile, Catherine couldn't help but notice that he seemed somewhat relieved that it wasn't him getting called in anymore. Lucky him…

"You know the suspect James Cena, right?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Catherine bristled slightly at the name, her skin crawling at the mention of the bastard who had tried to attack her in interrogation earlier. Oh, please, she hoped that he didn't lodge a complaint against her. The sissy. "Yeah, what about him?" she questioned.

"I heard about your…altercation with him." She was going to kill Brass. "While I am highly disappointed in the fact that you were unable to control your anger in such an important interrogation, I must say that your tactics worked," Ecklie rambled on.

JUST GET TO THE POINT, she wanted to scream into the phone. However, she remained calm as she asked, "Did he file a complaint against me?"

"Quite the opposite. He's asking to talk to you. He says that there is something that he wants to tell you," Conrad answered. "So are you willing to fight off sleep for a couple more hours in order to get this guy behind bars?"

Catherine closed her eyes briefly, wondering if she was in over her head. She was exhausted, and her tired body was telling her to get some sleep, to make the bastard sit in a cold cell until she had fulfilled her body's need for sleep. Nevertheless, her heart was telling her that she needed to get justice for Jane Smelders, that she had worked longer hours than this before while staying sharp.

Oh, yeah, it was on.

"Get him ready for interrogation. I want both of his hands handcuffed to the table. If he refuses, tell him that I'm not talking to him," Catherine finally stated. "I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."

Before Ecklie had a chance to respond, she hung up, glancing at Gil. "I'm sorry, I have to go back to work," she said apologetically, standing up and reaching into her purse for her wallet. "Something…came up." She wasn't about to explain the case to Gil, the fact that she had lost her cool with a suspect and nearly ended up hurt…again…thanks to her actions.

"It's okay, Cath," Gil answered softly, reaching into his wallet and tossing a few bills onto the table, enough to cover the bill and the tip. She opened her mouth to protest, only to have Gil wave her off. "My treat. You get me next time."

"Okay, Gil, thanks," Catherine answered, a fresh wave of adrenaline filling her as together they walked out of the diner that the original team…Gil, Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Sara, and Greg…had frequented so often.

"Promise me something?" Gil asked as they came to the parking lot.

"What's that?" Catherine asked, her thoughts on Cena and what was to come.

"Promise me that you'll sleep after you're done?" Gil told her seriously.

Catherine smiled up at him, instinctively kissing his cheek. "I promise," she answered before walking away to her truck.

Gil watched her leave, his hand unconsciously coming up to touch his cheek that Catherine's lips had brushed against.

He just hoped that Catherine would listen to him.

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End Part 3/?