DATE: November
2007
AUTHOR: LosingInTranslation (aka Jennifer, losingntrnslatn)
TITLE: Two
Simple Words
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own anything associated with the show… I
just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys!
Dance!
RATING: K+ – Most Ages
SPOILERS: Episodes 8X02: A La Cart & 8X03: Go to Hell
PAIRINGS: Yo!Bling
SUMMARY: Catherine is faced with the possibilities in her future
after a really heartbreaking case.
A/N: This was one of those stories that has
ended up completely different from the way it started out. Originally, it was
supposed to be ficlet to pay someone for stumping me
in a Meme, and then it morphed into a slightly angsty
piece with a smut payoff. It has now become an angst monster of epic
proportions with no smut at all. While I am very happy with the way it has turned
out, I still owe someone a little Yo!Bling
smut. I hope you enjoy the final product.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This is largely my own twisted machination, but
I was able to get a little help from SmutBeta, and
some fantastic “Hack & Slash” beta work from the wonderful GuerillaBeta. And leftover mishaps belong to me, but the
input from these remarkable ladies is, as always, priceless to me.
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work
or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a
little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
Two
Simple Words
When the lights came back on, and he
was standing so close, so close that she could feel the heat from his body.
Catherine was convinced she would have dropped everything in an instant, if
only he had given the word. Thankfully, she never had to make that choice,
because all he had done was smile. But, oh…what a smile.
Busy trying
to find some loophole that would allow her to get the information about her
latest case into the most effective hands, her thoughts began to drift. Pouring
through regulations and standards and ethics codes was not exactly stimulating
reading material after a long shift, and so her mind kept wandering to more
pleasant subjects.
At first,
she was brought back to Lindsey’s last dance recital, and the delicate,
graceful steps of her greatest pride. Lindsey was turning in to such a fantastic
person, despite the trials and obstacles put in her way. She was confident, and
bright, and she was strong. It was that strength that made Catherine the
proudest, because it was the one thing she knew the young woman had taken from
her.
Thinking
about that recital also brought someone else back into her thoughts. Lindsey
had gone through Catherine’s email in order to invite her mother’s co-workers
to her first big recital as a lead dancer. To her surprise and concern, every
one of them had shown up, even Jim Brass. But it was when she saw that tall
figure in the dark, striking suit enter the auditorium that her nerves kicked
into overdrive. When he reached their little group, her breath caught in her
throat as he flashed that deceivingly shy smile.
He sat
beside her for the entire recital, and even with the air conditioning blasting
in the auditorium, she still felt the warmth radiating through his suit. It was
the single most distracting experience of her life, and she struggled through
every minute of the night trying to concentrate on the recital and Lindsey. And
every time he fidgeted in his seat, his arm brushing subtly against her, she
had to fight the battle all over again.
As they all
waited in the lobby for the performers to come out so they could greet them
after the show, Catherine desperately worked to keep from making a fool of herself. Thankfully for her, Grissom and Sara had come out
for the evening, and much of the focus was on the newly discovered couple.
However, not everyone was focusing on the couple and the recovering woman, and
it was made apparent to her when she heard that smooth, rich voice speak from
less than a foot from her ear.
“You okay?”
Two simple
words…but there was absolutely nothing simple about
the answer.
Was she
okay? She had managed to finally put to rest the demons of her relationship
with her father and the events surrounding his death. Of all people, her mother
helped Catherine get through that in one piece. And while it was rough going at
first, things had been looking up with Lindsey ever since their abduction. Work
seemed to have settled down, except for the uproar in the lab over
intradepartmental relationships thanks to Gil outing his relationship with
Sara. Most everything in her life was working out, for a change. Everything,
except…she was still alone.
Yes, she
had her daughter, she had her mother, she had friends, but when her head hit
the pillow every day she was faced with the loneliness again and again. With
every passing year, the prospect of spending the rest of her days alone became
more than a nightmare, it was becoming a reality.
As she
looked into the small mirror on her desk she sighed. Catherine had been
fighting the march of time with everything she could for a long time, but it
was a battle she knew she would never win. She balefully wondered how much
longer she would be able to attract anything but flies with the way time had
begun to ravage her visible assets.
Imagining
herself withering away like a forgotten flower was not helping her mood in the
slightest. She drew in a deep breath and decided to call it a day. A full eight
hours of sleep was beckoning to her, and she could always worry about turning
into a wrinkled, lonely, crazy cat-lady when she got up for her next shift. She
had plenty of time for dreaming up worst-case scenarios these days.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The lights
in her office were dimmed on purpose, as she struggled to get the image of that
young girl out of her mind. Aged before her time, innocence long gone, and only twelve years old. Catherine ached for the
girl that should have been more worried about math tests than sex and
vengeance.
Seeing her
broken and bleeding body lying unnaturally on that floor, the flash of her
camera repeating over and over again, it made the ache in her chest nearly
unbearable. She kept imagining her own daughter, lost in madness, at war with
the world, and filled with far too much anger. That easily could have been her
in that motel, killed at the whim of a deranged child, if only she had allowed
them both to give in to the anger and the grief. It was a frightening look into
what could have been, and she was eternally grateful for everything that stood
in the way of that happening; family, friends and strength of will and heart.
The whole
experience had been emotionally draining, and Catherine simply needed a little
time to collect herself before going home to spend the day wandering through an
empty house. If Lindsey had been home, as apposed to away on a trip with her
grandmother, Catherine would have done as she always had, and ran home to be
with the girl; just to be sure she was truly safe and sound. Instead, she was
forced to call her at the hotel in
Hearing a noise
out in the hallway, Catherine fought to at least make the impression of holding
it together. When she looked up to greet whoever was out there, she caught the
last sight of Gil and Sara walking out of the lab for the day. They were not
holding hands, or engaged in any kind of outward displays of affection or
intimacy, but their comfortable manner and quiet acceptance of one another as
they obliviously walked by her door caused a slow simmer of rancor to begin
forming in her gut. And when she watched Sara lay a
comforting hand on his arm as they turned down the other hall, a lump rose in
her throat that threatened to close off her airway.
Catherine
was dumbfounded to witness the obvious caring between the two people, and it
suddenly dawned on her just how terribly alone it made her feel to see them
together. She hated herself for feeling that way, because she knew that Gil
deserved to be just as happy as anyone else, but something in the back of her
mind always told her that as long as she was better off than him, personally,
she was somehow better. And there he was, dealing with the aftermath of the
very same case, and instead of shutting himself off from the emotions and the
world he was calmly going home; home to someone who cared for him and about him
enough to come in on her day off to pick him up.
It was far
too much for her to bear, the jealousy, the fear, the overwhelming weight of
her own loneliness. She turned around in her chair to face the wall in an
attempt to turn her back on the swirling chaos of dark emotions threatening to
reduce her to ashes.
With the
turmoil in her mind and her heart, Catherine was oblivious to the world just
outside her office door. She only wanted to regain some kind of control over
the avalanche of emotions burying her conscious thoughts with darkness and
despair.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Warrick
needed to drop off the last report of the night before he could head home.
Grissom was off for the next couple of days, so he was headed for Catherine’s
office. The two had worked out a schedule that allowed for the both of them to
have ample time off, without too much overlap, except on the heaviest days.
While each was on-call for their third day off, it kept their hours to a
manageable rate, limited overtime, and provided a strong focused leadership for
the whole shift. And it was working so well, the director was forcing Ecklie to make the change across every shift.
Catherine’s
office was dark, and that was a good thing. He was a little concerned that she
had been struggling with the case of the dead girl and her parents. While
Catherine always found the cases with children difficult, Warrick knew that
this one seemed to be affecting her a little more strongly than the others.
Maybe it was the girl’s age, or the fact that she bore a small resemblance to
Lindsey, but he could tell that she was straining to keep her composure
throughout the case. Whatever it was, seeing her darkened office left him
feeling relieved that she had been able to let it go and head home.
He checked
the folders one last time in the light of the hallway, making certain that
everything was there before he entered the office. Once he was satisfied that
it was all in order, he took that one long stride into the dark room and headed
for the desk.
Just as he
was about to drop the folders into Catherine’s inbox, a strange sensation came
over him. He took another look around the room and he finally noticed the
trembling form in the chair behind the desk. Warrick blinked twice, as though
trying to confirm what he was seeing, and then he carefully laid the folders
down as he tried to form the words with his mouth.
Swallowing
back the rising tide of long suppressed emotion, Warrick stepped around the
desk to stand directly behind her chair. He drew in a ragged breath and raised
his hands to hover over her shoulders. With the softest of tones he could
muster, he quietly whispered, “Catherine?”
When he
received no response, he started to lower his right hand as he spoke again. “Cath?” There was still no sign
that she was even aware of his presence. Not until his fingers gently grazed
the crest of her exposed shoulder.
The moment Warrick’s fingers made contact with her skin, every nerve
in her body stood on end, and she knew in an instant that it was him. She was
still buried under the unbelievably immense weight of her emotions, and the
rawness of it all made it impossible for her to do anything but shriek at his
touch.
Normally,
her shriek would have been enough to send him flying back from the sound, but
instead he just held onto her shaking shoulders and tried to offer her some
comfort. Warrick could only ever recall seeing her that bad once before, and he
was almost afraid to find out the source this time.
He felt,
more than heard, the sobs she was desperately trying to restrain, and he
struggled to find the words to question her. “What is it?” He had to force the
next question from his throat. “Is…Lindsey okay?” With that, Catherine fell
into herself, and any semblance of control was lost in the sounds of her quiet
weeping.
Without
losing complete contact, he moved around the chair to crouch down in front of
her and took of her hands into his. Reaching over with the hand that stayed at her
shoulder, he tried to raise her chin. He needed to see into her eyes before he
was ready to proceed. “What’s going on? Did something happen to-…” He was struck silent by the frightened sorrow and shame he
found there in her eyes once Catherine’s face became visible to him. “Aw, man.”
Warrick knew then that she needed only thing, and he would always be there to
offer it. He leaned forward, placed a gentle hand behind her head, as the other
went around her shoulders to catch her up into his arms. He laid her head into
his chest and lifted them both to their feet.
In no time
at all, Catherine was enveloped by his caring embrace, and her face was dried
by his shirt, as he stroked her hair and rocked them into a calmer place. It
was the one thing he knew to do, and it was the only thing he had ever been
able to give her. Within a few minutes, her sobbing faded away, and he could
feel the fatigue falling over her body.
When he
felt as though she was finally standing on her own steam again, he looked
around the office. Her purse was nowhere to be seen, which meant it was
probably in the desk. Her jacket was hanging from the rack by the door, and her
computer was already shut down. Warrick quickly devised a plan of action,
because he knew at any moment that Catherine would attempt a diversionary
tactic to get away from the situation, and slip back into the stony façade she
affected so well. He felt in his heart that this was something she needed to
get out before she retreated back into bitch-mode.
The moment
she started to pull out of his arms, Warrick reached out and took her hand in
his. “You need to get out of here… I’ll drive,” he said.
He thought
for a split second that she was about to argue the point when she opened her
mouth to protest, but instead, she just looked down and shook her head. Warrick
leaned over to the side and held open the desk drawer containing her purse. She
silently retrieved the bag and let it hang almost to the floor.
As they
rounded the desk together, Warrick finally felt safe in releasing her hand, and
he reached out to grab her jacket from the rack. Wordlessly, he held out the
garment for her and she turned around to slip her arms into the sleeves, one at
a time. When he pulled it up to rest comfortably on her shoulders, he was sure
it was the right move. Catherine was completely pliable to his every request,
and he was fairly certain that she would go wherever the wind took her at that
point. She seemed to him like an autumn leaf, withered and adrift in the
breeze, only looking for a place to rest forever. And it was breaking his
heart.
Walking
side by side through the halls of the lab, Warrick was glad that his keys were
in his pocket instead of the locker, because he was not sure how long the spell
of compliance would last. He was also happy to make it through those halls
without drawing any attention or notice. Catherine would never have been able
to forgive herself for losing it like that if anyone else at work ever saw the
shape she was in. He knew she was not thinking about it at the time, but later
it would weigh heavily on everything she thought and did.
Upon
reaching his car, he politely opened the passenger door for her, and held out
his arm for her to grip as she lowered herself into the seat. Walking around
the front of the car, he could not help but remark to himself just how frail
and fragile she seemed sitting there alone. In all the years Warrick had known
her, he could never recall a time she seemed so fragile. Scared to death,
afraid for her child, grieving for her father, none of it ever seemed to break
her spirit, and he was deeply concerned about her well-being as he got behind
the wheel.
The car
ride was completely silent. He was afraid to even turn on the radio on the off
chance it would give her the opportunity to put those solid steel walls back
up. But that changed when he pulled into his driveway.
She looked
around and tried to get her bearings. “Where are we?”
He shrugged
as he put the car into park, “My place.” The surprised and confused look on her
face gave him reason to explain further. “It’s the only thing I got in the
divorce, ridiculous mortgage and all.” Warrick looked at the front door and
huffed. He had never wanted the house in the first place, but his ex-wife had
insisted on it, telling him what a great investment it would be in the Vegas
housing market. The problem with that logic was the financing they used to get
the thing; locking them into the loan for an extended period for the short term
lower interest rate. He had another year before he could even begin to
refinance the thing, and he could only hope the market kept from crashing in
the meantime while he struggled to deal with the variable interest rate loan on
a non-variable income.
He pushed
the depressing financial thoughts from his mind and returned his focus to the
woman beside him. “C’mon,” he gestured with his head to the door, “you
shouldn’t be alone right now, and we both need something to eat.”
Catherine
sat there for another minute, as though she was trying to come up with a logical
reason not to accept his offer, but he was not willing to give in so easily.
“Oh come on… You know you can’t say no to my grandmother’s Creole Spoonbread.” The faint beginnings of a partial smile tugged
at the corner of her mouth, and he knew that he had won. “Made it last night,
and let it set for the morning. Eggs are ready, too. Just have to whip up a
little sauce, and heat it all up.” He nudged her with his elbow and added,
“Best brunch in all of Vegas.”
She finally
nodded her head and moved to exit the car, but Warrick was quick on his feet.
By the time she swung her feet out to make contact with the pavement, he was
once again there to offer a steadying arm. His worry was confirmed when she
pulled herself from the car on his arm with a weakened grip.
Without
thinking about it, he put his hand on her back and proceeded to guide her up to
the door. Warrick only broke the contact to unlock and open the door for her.
Once inside,
he gave her the brief tour, complete with the stuff he still needed to do to
the house to make it more appropriate, and before long he began to feel more
than a little foolish. He was rambling on about paint schemes and home
improvements when he was supposed to be offering comfort to a friend in need.
Catherine
tried to show interest in what he was saying and doing as they walked through
the house, but she was still so preoccupied with the way Warrick had found her,
that the shame she felt colored everything.
He abruptly
cut the tour short to avoid further embarrassment, and because he could tell
that she was really not interested in what kind of blinds he wanted in the
living room. Moving them to the kitchen, he quickly set to work preparing their
brunch.
In the
kitchen, she watched as he slipped the dish of spoonbread
into the oven to warm before he started pulling random ingredients out to
spread out onto the counter. It was almost relaxing, watching him whisk the
different items together into two separate bowls. When he smoothly poured the
mixtures into two sauce pans, Catherine came to a sudden realization.
“Just when
did you get so good in the kitchen?” She leaned forward into the island a
little, trying to get a better view of what he doing over the sink.
Looking at
his profile, she watched the side of his mouth curl into a subtle grin, just
before he answered, “Well, before Grams started goin’
downhill, she decided it was high time I learned to cook right.”
As he
turned back to the island, she saw the product of his hard work; three
perfectly clean, perfectly hard-boiled eggs. Seeing the skill with which he
deftly sliced the eggs before shoving them to the side made her wonder if his
admission was entirely true. Almost as though he was reading her mind he
chuckled and said, “I’ve been her prep-cook since I was a shorty…but
she didn’t trust me with the tough stuff until I was grown.”
“You look
like you’re doing pretty good to me.” Settling back
into the chair Catherine remarked to herself that it was the first time in more
than twenty four hours that she felt like smiling, and so she did.
“Now that
makes the whole cooking thing worth it.” That same devilishly shy smile of his
greeted hers, and she was unable to stop the short giggle that managed to sneak
out of her mouth.
Before she
could say anything, he was back at the stove stirring the saucepans. She was
grateful that he had turned away, because it meant that he missed the furious
blush that rose in her cheeks.
When the
cooking was all done, Warrick set up two plates with a good helping of Eggs New
Orleans on top of a split English Muffin, and some cut
fruit he had in the fridge. In the center of his dining room table was the
glass dish of spoonbread and two gravy boats of sauce
for their meals; one spicy white sauce for the Eggs New Orleans, and a white
wine sauce for the spoonbread. But the real surprise
was in the orange juice.
Just as
Catherine was about to take a big gulp from her tall glass of juice, Warrick
reached out and covered it with his hand. “Go easy on that stuff… I still have
to be able to drive you home later, and I refuse to let a lady drink alone.”
After he
removed his hand and picked up one of the gravy boats, she sniffed over the top
of the glass, and caught the faintest hint of the reason for his caution. “How
could you possibl-”
“My first
solo closed case… You, me, and Brass had breakfast at
Grissom’s. You got the last of the OJ from Grissom, and I snuck a drink. Had to get Brass to drive me home.” Despite her shock at his
memory of the day so long ago, she was still able to register the slight color
change in his cheeks, and the bashful way he looked away from her.
“Wow! You
must have thought I was a lush or something.” She shook her head with the embarrassment
of the memory, and paid no attention to the hurt look that fell over Warrick’s face.
“Never… I
could never thin-” The words, thick with emotion, caught in his throat.
Instantly
regretting her offhand attempt to throw the attention away from her less than
perfect past, she reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I was only kidding… Really.” She squeezed his arm and said, “Sometimes, I just
need to slow down after a bad day, and when I was still with Eddie, a drink
after shift was the only way I could do it. I only did it with Jim or Gil,
because I knew I could trust them, and they always took me home.” She stopped
when she felt his hand over hers and struggled to finish her explanation. “I
guess…I’ve…missed it?”
Warrick
nodded his head to show his understanding. “Yeah… Seems like a million years
ago…that breakfast. Any breakfast really.” He looked up and into her worried
gaze. “We used to get everybody together after shift for breakfast, like once a
week. I miss that.”
The deep
sorrow in his tone reached into her heart and made it constrict with the pain
carried in his words. “Yeah… A million years ago.”
“We… I
mean, me, Nick and Sara… We used to go out once in a while, catch a beer, maybe
shoot some pool, or just, I don’t know, shoot the breeze a little…away from
work. But it’s been a long time.” As Warrick pushed the last of his food around
his plate, she could tell that his thoughts had gone down a very dark path.
Catherine
finally understood how it had been so easy for Ecklie
to break them up a while back. He saw them drifting apart, and managed to find
their shatter points to drive his wedges of doubt. And if someone like Ecklie saw it, she could only imagine how they must have
looked to everyone else, and each other. Without meaning to, they had each
stepped away from the crowd, and even Nick’s abduction failed to truly unite
them as the team they once were. Not until Jim was almost killed did they seem
to begin to drift back together, but it was really Sara’s abduction that acted
as the catalyst for everyone to cling to each other. It was seeing Gil nearly
come undone that finally caused them to snap out of their collective funk to
work together as a true team again.
She was
about to try and offer some advice, but the next words that came from his mouth
left her wondering if she was even capable of such a thing. “Ya know…when Nick was taken, I kind of lost it. I’d already
lost so much that year, and almost losing him, it was the final straw for me,
and I snapped. I wanted something that was mine, something that I thought I
could hold onto when things got rough.” His eyes never rose from the table, but
instead stayed focused on the spot where their hands rested together.
“Unfortunately,
it wasn’t until after I married Tina that I found out how wrong I was, or…how
much I really had.” When he finally looked up from the table to stare directly
into her eyes, she was rendered completely speechless.
The raw
emotion she saw in his emerald gaze was enough to halt any chance of speaking.
“You still have a lot, Cath. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you
have so much in your life…with or without your father.”
That was
when something inside of her began to crumble.
She wanted
to put on a brave face and tell him everything was fine. She wanted to scream
and tell him what an ass he was for trying to break her down. She wanted to
collapse on the floor and wail for her losses. She wanted to simply vanish into
that dark pit of despair that had been steadily growing unchecked in her
middle. But the only thing she was able to do was sit there, her hand clasping
desperately to Warrick’s arm, as though it was the
only thing holding her to this earth, as the tears began to flow freely from
her weary eyes.
For the
first time in her life, she felt like she could do every single one of those
things and there would still be someone there to hold her to this world. She
realized that there was no one else in her life that she every truly trusted
with her own raw emotions. Warrick was the only one who ever saw her breakdown.
The only one who held her together in all the ways that mattered most. Sure,
Jim was always protective of her, and Grissom was there for professional
advice, and both men would stand up for her under any circumstance. However,
she was fairly certain that at the first sight of tears, they would both run
for the hills. But not Warrick.
He was just
there, neither judging nor preaching. His arms were hers if she needed them,
and that was why she had retreated from him after finding out about his
marriage. While she was telling the truth when she told him he spoiled her
dream, the other truth, the one she kept in her heart, was that she was more
worried about losing his unconditional support after his marriage. There would
be another woman entitled to that support, and it would not be hers. That was
the real reason for her distance from him since finding out about the marriage.
Without
warning, the walls around the last of her strength fell away, and her body
became wracked with sobs. Not the silent, solitary sobbing from her office, but
trembling, whimpering, earth-shattering sobs that took over her entire body.
Her whole
focus dwindled down to a sharp point of supreme pain and loss, all of the things
that she had been ignoring since even before her father’s horrific death came
down to that one cacophonous moment of ultimate agony.
Catherine
had long abided by the philosophy that if you refused to give it any energy to
feed on, that it would die away. She never imagined that her way of dealing
with the hard realities of her life would come back to haunt her in such a
calamitous fashion.
Every
regret, every rejection, every failure, every heartache came back to her in a
rush, and it simply overwhelmed her completely. Any ability to communicate,
even with her own mind, was lost to the tidal wave of pure grief and despair
washing over her in the moments that followed her revelation.
When the
waters finally began to retreat again, she was totally spent, and the last
conscious thing she managed to fathom with her limited power of reasoning was
that she was curled up under a blanket, surrounded in softness and warmth. Once
the thought was completed, she fell away into the depths of exhausted slumber.
Her dreams
were a swirling mass of mysterious smiles, Lindsey throughout her life, her
father’s rasping voice, the lilting melody of her mother, and a sense of peace
she had trouble remembering experiencing previously. The slow approach of
consciousness began to give her insight into the realm of her subconscious, but
it only came in fragmented pieces of information.
Gradually,
she started to emerge from the comforting cocoon of sleep. It was a remarkable
experience to begin waking, feeling refreshed and renewed for the first time in
longer than she cared to recall. Stretching her back out into an arch, her hand
grazed over the surface upon which she lay, and Catherine was instantly
confused.
She was
presently lying on a leather couch, but she did not have a leather couch. The
only person she knew with a leather couch was Gil, and there was no sleeping on
that monstrosity.
Her eyes
had not yet deigned to open, so she felt around to try and place her location.
The blanket tucked in around her was soft, and very warm. As her fingers dug
into the blanket, she decided that it felt an awful lot like cashmere. Living
in a house with a kid, she had never bought anything like for her own home, so
it was confirmed that she could not possibly be at her place.
The last
foggy memory flickered into her semi-conscious mind, bringing it all into focus
once again.
Looking around, as she tried to get
her bearings, Catherine asked, “Where are we?”
Warrick just shrugged his broad
shoulders as he put the car into park, “My place.”
The whole
thing; the breakfast, the confessions, the breakdown, the sobbing, the
unceasing tide of grief and anguish, it all came into crystal clear clarity,
and with it came an unbelievable sense of shame and regret. But before the
waves could start crashing around her again, before her emotions could race
away, she felt the warm tender touch of strong fingers slipping into her hair
and gently guiding it away from her face.
The soft
light in the room finally danced over her eyelids, and tempted them to flutter
open. The first thing her sleep clouded eyes saw was the caring, shy smile
below those sparkling green eyes.
“Mornin’, Sunshine.” He broke eye contact momentarily to
glance at his watch and then he shrugged, “Well, afternoon anyway.”
Finally
understanding that she had fallen asleep at Warrick’s
place, Catherine sat straight up in a panic. “What time is it?”
Calmly, he
handed her a steaming mug of coffee and shook his head. “Don’t worry… I called
in a couple favors. No work for you tonight.”
The panic
was still there. “What kind of favor?” She tried to straighten out her clothes
the moment she looked down at them. She must have looked a total wreck after
falling asleep in her clothes on his couch.
“Sara owed
me, when I picked up this weekend thing for her, and she got Grissom to cover
tonight. And Nick?” As Catherine worriedly glanced
around the room, Warrick pointed to the location of her shoes a few feet from
the couch on the floor. “Well, he still owes me from that March Madness disaster,
so I just had to call it a draw to get him to cover for me.”
Distracted,
she could only ask, “You’re not going in?”
He subtly
shook his head in the negative. “Nah… I didn’t want to leave you alone…like
that.” Warrick once again held out the coffee mug and waited for her to take
it.
With a
heaving sigh, she finally accepted his gesture. “Thanks.” Catherine sat back
into the couch and blew over the top of the cup for a moment. “You didn’t need
to do all that.”
“Maybe not,
but it’s done, so don’t worry about it.” Warrick seemed to shrug off the
attention.
A million
little things flew through her mind at once, but first and foremost in her
thoughts was the fact that other people knew about her emotional breakdown. As
though he sensed her worry, Warrick shook his head again. “No… I told ‘em that you were just exhausted, and I had to take you
home. Told Sara that I knew you wouldn’t ask Gris for yourself.” He covered her
hand with his and smiled, “And Nick was so happy to be out from under that bet, he didn’t even blink, let alone ask why I needed the
night off.” His smile brightened just a bit more, and his eyes filled with a
glint of mischief. “Your cast iron reputation is still in tact.”
A nervous
laugh erupted from her throat in a blast. It felt strange to be able to laugh
like that, in light of the horror which led to her breakdown, but it also felt
like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Catherine
looked around again, and tried to reassess her situation. She was seated on her
co-worker and friend’s couch, in clothes that she had been wearing for more
than forty-eight hours, her hair was probably going in a hundred different
directions, and her makeup was most definitely a horrific sight after breaking
down into a sobbing mess on at least two occasions over the course of her
interaction with Warrick. All in all, she was pretty sure it was right up there
with one of the worst days of her entire life.
Before she
had a chance to say anything about the situation, Warrick stood up and began to
walk to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “What would you like to eat? We
killed the spoonbread and the eggs, but I can whip up
some pancakes if you want breakfast, or I can throw some pasta together.”
She was
still trying to form a reaction to waking up in his house, so the last question
she was prepared to answer was what she wanted to eat. “Ah-”
Interrupting
her chances to think once again, he offered, “I laid out some fresh towels and
put your emergency bag in the bathroom, so you can take a shower or whatever
while I get the food ready.”
Rising to
her feet, Catherine unconsciously walked into the kitchen with her questions
plainly shown on her face. “How’d-… When did you do
that?”
“Once I was
sure you were really asleep…I took a cab over to the lab and picked up your
car.” He looked over the back of his shoulder toward the front of the house and
the driveway. “It’s outside. When I saw your bag in there I grabbed it. Figured
you’d want to clean up when you woke up.” He smiled at her incredulous
expression.
Shaking her
head, Catherine was still processing everything that had happened. She finally
decided that she needed to simply go with the flow and let the dice fall where
they may. “Is there anything you haven’t thought of?”
He took the
few steps forward that would close the distance between them, picking up a
fresh washcloth from the counter along the way. Dropping a hand on her
shoulder, he held her steady before bringing the washcloth to her face.
“Yeah…didn’t think you’d look this good with raccoon eyes, first thing after
waking up.”
As he
gently rubbed the cloth over her cheeks, Catherine looked up into his intensely
caring gaze and thought she recognized something burning in his eyes. It had
been a long while since the last time she had seen anything like that in the
eyes of someone looking at her. And just when she was sure she would never see
it again, the fiery embers of desire contained in his viridian stare touched
her deep within her soul.
“Warrick…I-”
He moved to
silence her words with a touch to her lips. “It’s okay… We can talk about it
later. I just-…” He looked down for the first time,
and quietly admitted, “I just wanted you to know. Just wanted to…” Warrick
glanced up again, and she saw the uncertainty in his almost glassy eyes.
Locking their gazes, he finally said the words she never thought she would ever
hear. “You aren’t alone…if you don’t want to be. That is, if you want m-”
With her
faculties finally having returned, she reached up to silence him with her
fingers over his mouth. However, the words simply would not come, so she did
the only thing that seemed appropriate. Leaning up on her toes, she put both
hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up, as she
pulled him down slightly. When her lips touched his cheek, she felt the muscles
in his shoulders release the tension as a wave of relief fell over him.
Shy smiles
overtaking both of their faces, with their mouths hovering near each other for
what seemed like an eternity, they seemed almost afraid of taking things any
farther. When the stalemate was finally lifted, it was Warrick who made the
first conservative move. He wrapped his arms around her, turned his head and
leaned into her neck as they moved into a true embrace.
Enveloped
in his solid arms, his face buried in her neck, Catherine was surprised to feel
such comfort and caring in such a simple gesture. This was an affectionate and
intimate expression of feelings which had simmered below the surface for years.
It was tender and sweet and loving. And while it was deeply passionate, it held
none of the sexual overtones she had grown accustomed to in her life. It was
personal, and it was private, and it showed her the depth and breadth of his
caring for her, as she tried to express the same to him through their embrace.
Catherine
had waited a whole lifetime to find what was in her arms at that moment, and as
he gently rocked them back and forth, she knew that she would spend the next
lifetime holding on to it.