Gil's held the door to the break room ajar, he'd caught sight of Catherine, pouring coffee, alone and took the opportunity to check on her. His eyes, filled with concern for her. She'd worried him earlier, the way that she'd become so upset about Lindsey's request not to have a party. Part of him was worried for his own safety, so he held the door as if it were his shield, after all she did have access to hot liquids.

"Are you any better?"

She looked up at him, like a deer caught in the headlights. Was she really that easy to read? " What are you talking about?"

He hugged the door a little tighter; trying to ensure his defence was ready. His eyes held a hint of his nerves as he replied. "Your little major-minor blow-up about Lindsey not wanting a party." He offered a faint smile as he finished speaking in the hopes that she'd realize his concern, his need to be reassured, rather than trying to tease.

She looked confused for a second, trying to recall the events she'd tried fought hard to forget all night. "Oh that. Yeah." She sighed. "I'm just afraid that I'm making her weird, you know?" There was a sense of relief for having finally voiced something that had worried her of late. But her eyes betrayed her nerves at revealing her fears, what would he think?

His eyes fixed on her, trying to reassure her. He wanted to nothing other than hug her, hold her, tell her it would be fine, but knew she needed to settle herself, be reassured first with words rather than touches. "No." He replied, as he really did not know how Lindsey could be viewed as weird, or how Catherine could make her so.

She looked away for a moment, not wanting him to see her insecurities reflected in her eyes. "I work 24/7. I have no time for my friends. My daughter rarely sees me having any fun. And, all of a sudden, she doesn't want a party."

She successfully managed to keep her eyes averted; as she let her fears flow, concentrating on her coffee. She picked up the cup, headed for the doorway, towards him, her eyes downcast, nervous of what he might say, what his face may reveal about her failings.

They started to walk along the corridor, shoulders gently brushing in a soft caress, Catherine's eyes fixed on the stirrer she was using to stir her coffee.

"And that's because of you?" Gil asked, unsure of how she could have come to this conclusion.

Catherine let the stirrer go staring straight ahead trying to process what he had said. She paused before taking another step, turning to half face him fiddling once more with the stirrer. "Yes. I'm her mother. She mimics me."

Gil turned to look at her, leaning in slightly so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "Well, then she'll be fine. I mean, look at you."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." She looked at him, trying to uncover the true intent of his words.

He held her look "Yeah." A slight smile on his face as she sucked on the straw. Their eyes met, he leaned in, their shoulders touching. He had a sudden fascination with her lips. He wanted to take that sirrer out of her mouth.

As if sensing this Catherine pursed her lips slightly, her look teasing. Why did he seem to focus on her lips? Two could play at that came she thought, deliberately playing with the stirrer in her mouth. She smiled.

Sara calling from behind them momentarily broke the mood. "Hey, Grissom ... could you come tape me up?"

Catherine removed the stirrer from her mouth, noting how the younger woman had caught Grissom's attention. She looked contrite, they'd been on the verge of something, she wasn't sure what, but she had a good feeling about it, only to be disturbed.

He smiled. "I love my work." His focus returned to her lips, the stirrer now absent he leaned towards her slightly.

Catherine's heart beat a little faster. What was he doing? She needed to say something, break the moment, bring him back to reality, and then if he persisted she'd know the truth of his intent, whether it was another attempt to console or something more. She chose her words carefully. "It shows."

He leaned in further, she could feel his breath on her cheek, barely above a whisper, so only she could hear, he uttered. "But I love you more."

Her eyes widened, her lips parted about to say something.

He took a chance, leaned in further, his lips joining hers, his tongue explored her mouth, and she reciprocated her tongue mapping his mouth. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as a shiver ran down her spine.

He pulled back. Then reached for her lips, tracing the bottom one with the pad of his thumb. "We'll continue this later." It wasn't a request, or a question; it was a statement of his intent. He turned and headed for the garage.

Catherine leant back against the wall needing its support to remain upright. What had just happened? By all accounts Gil had made his objective clear, he wanted her, and who was she to argue with him, after all didn't she feel the same.

The End.