Catherine Grissom stared across the room at her husband. Without looking up from the papers he was studying he questioned her. "What?"

"Nothing."

That caught his attention, as she knew it would. "Catherine, you were staring at me."

"And?"

"Well when you stare at me it makes me nervous."

She giggled. "Why would me looking at the man I love cause you to be nervous?"

He smiled, the twinkle she adored appearing in his eyes. "Because I know you. You forget that. I know you, I love you and when you have that look, let's just say I'm used to being persuaded in some way."

She feigned hurt, "What? Me?"

"Yes my love, you." He chuckled. "So what is it going to cost me?"

Catherine slowly walked across the room. Closing the small distance between them, she leant down and whispered in his ear. "I love you, Gil Grissom. I like to look at you; I can't get enough of you. You owe me nothing, you have given me more than I could wish for." She moved slightly so she could capture his lips, enjoying the feel of them as she captured his bottom lip with hers and pulled it slightly.

Gil caught hold of her hands, pulling her back to him with enough force for her to find herself sat on his lap. "You are wrong." He watched as her face clouded briefly. "I owe you my life. I love you." He pulled her closer, revelling in the closeness as much now as he did the first time they'd kissed.

They held each other's gaze for the briefest of seconds, yet a wealth of love passed between them in those few brief moments, before their lips met once more.

Love is holding onto your dream

Gil watched as the sunlight streamed across the bedroom, capturing his wife's hair in its beams, setting it alight. He smiled; she looked so peaceful lying there asleep.

He knew she'd be angry with him for not waking her, but seeing her so peaceful, claiming much needed sleep he could not bear to disturb her. As she'd left the lab before him, arriving home to ensure Lindsey caught the school bus on time, she'd vowed to see him at home. He knew she'd probably sat up, fighting the claws of sleep, only to succumb before he could reach her. But he liked finding her like this. He liked the opportunity to watch her sleep. It gave him a certain security, made him realize that this was truly reality for him.

He'd dreamt of it so often through the years, that he often wondered where the dreams ended and reality began.

When they'd finally confessed their feelings, he'd been willing to fight to retain it. He'd heard the old saying be careful of what you wish for. He didn't expect the reality of having Catherine in his life to be the idealism of his dream world.

What he found however surpassed his modest expectations. To be truly loved was a feeling he'd not experienced before. It was as if his heart and soul had expanded and taken a part of her, so she became an element of him.

He was no longer alone. He was no longer Gil Grissom entomologist, he had evolved, and he was now Gil Grissom husband to Catherine, father to Lindsey. He was proud of this evolution. He'd never dare dream for such a life, a family as that which he'd been graced with. He was fulfilled, his dream complete, he wanted for no more, content to spend the rest of eternity with Catherine.

This reality had surpassed his aspirations and in so doing had become like a living dream. For Gil this was worth seizing and refusing to liberate. There was nothing for him that encapsulated this more than watching his wife sleeping in their bed, her face a vision of serenity. It filled his already full heart, as a scientist he knew that was an impossible task but for him this seemed far from impossible, this woman, this dream his reality.

"You're watching me again." Her voice shattered his silent observation.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"You know I only truly sleep with you beside me."

He leant down and kissed her forehead. "I know, forgive me?"

"You're forgiven as soon as you are here beside me."

"You only want me to be your pillow."

"Are you questioning my motives for wanting my husband in bed beside me?"

"Of course not." With that he climbed in beside her, a smile filling his face as she snuggled next to him, her head resting on his chest, that was now her pillow.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I love you."

"I love you Gil. Hold me please."

"My pleasure."

He drifted into sleep, the scent of her filling his dreams, allowing him to forget the horrors of his daily life.

Love is never having to say you are sorry.

The marriage to all outside seemed a perfect union. They had few troubles and those they did have, they hid well, not wanting to form the foundation of gossip. There were enough predators watching them, trying to prevent their progress, waiting like vultures for the slightest hint of trouble in their paradise, so they could latch on to it, pick at it, ulcerate it in the hopes of breaking them apart.

They knew of this however, they were aware of those who would have cause to wreck their happiness. So they were wary, careful to keep their troubles hidden within the four walls of their house. This was until the big fight.

It started over the most minor of things, as many such disagreements do, but by the end of the morning there was silence between them. No words of love passed their lips as they settled in bed for a restless sleep. As day gave way to night, their mood had not improved and there was a tension as they started their shifts.

A tension that was visible to all around, much to their individual distastes. But stubbornness won out over pride. They weathered the looks, the way conversations seemed to end the moment they entered a room, the sympathetic glances and overtures of comfort from their friends.

Exhaustion won them over however, that and their genuine love for one another. It was not a scene played out before an audience that was not their way. They knew the concern was there, the hope that they would overcome these troubles from their friends. But this was something between the two of them, something to be resolved in the safety and secrecy of their home. There would be time enough to reassure those concerned that life had returned to normality.

So it was a certain amount of trepidation that the two of them drove home that morning. The silence hung heavy in their Denali as Gil navigated the early morning traffic. In their minds they both practiced their speeches, their apologies, hoping the other would be prepared to listen, to forgive. As they knew, unlike many couples, that in an argument fault lay on both sides and they could recognize the part they'd played in this fracture of their love.

It was this understanding that enabled them to resolve the fight so swiftly. They were able to maintain a front before Lindsey, ensuring she went to school with no concerns for her parents.

They sat on the sofa, at opposite ends, Catherine studying her fingers, Gil studying Catherine. They sat silent, preparing their speeches their apologies, for seconds that turned into minutes, before Gil could stand it no more. "Catherine…."

"Gil, I'm…"

"I know, me too."

"I don't need an apology. I just need to know you love me."

"I do Catherine, with my whole being."

"I shouldn't have…."

"You don't need to say you are sorry, I don't need a confession. I did things I was not proud of, said things I shouldn't. I'm as guilty as you. But I still love you."

"I love you."

The distance between them was quickly closed, as they fought to hold one another, sink into their lover's essence, become whole once more.

Love is for sharing

When Gil started in his relationship with Catherine, he knew it would be different from other relationships he'd had. Not that he'd had many other relationships; there had been the print lab tech and the ill-fated Pink Floyd concert, Terri Millar and the disaster of an interrupted dinner. Of course Lady Heather could be counted amongst them in some way, he just wasn't sure how to categorize her, something he was sure she'd be quite happy to know.

Catherine was different. She'd been a constant in his life for fifteen years before they'd made any move towards a change in their relationship. They'd been friends, best friends first, and then gradually moved towards lovers.

Sharing his love with Catherine was certainly different from his other encounters. She made it easy, he found it difficult not to shower her with love and care. There was an ease to this love, something that had been foreign to him before Catherine. He was no longer afraid to demonstrate his feelings for her, to hold out his heart to another.

There was another difference too. Catherine had a daughter. Although Heather had a daughter, she'd not been visible to him through their brief acquaintance. This was so different with Catherine. He'd known Lindsey since her first hours on the planet. Been a small part of her life as she grew, but a part the little girl obviously took seriously as she showered him with affection.

So when he offered his heart to Catherine, he also made a place in it for Lindsey. In return he'd received love in abundance from both of them, proving to him that once you share your love you gain back more than you give.

Love is wanting to give her the moon and stars.

Once, many years ago, they'd stood in the desert at a crime scene, darkness surrounding them after a long day of supervising cadets as they searched for remnants of a body. He'd talked to her of stars and trucks, the usefulness of carbon how it appeared to transform from things of beauty to the most practical of items.

She'd appeared astonished as the poet in him was ignited. But this was what she did to him. He took pleasure out of surprising. Lulling her into believing she understood him only to swiftly change her thinking with some unexpected gesture or comment.

As they witnessed their love before family and friends and exchanged the simple gold bands that bound them to each other, he knew he would give her everything within his power.

He was not focused on material things, as they soon gathered dust and were forgotten, although tokens of his love were given to her freely. He had every intent of spoiling his wife, as he derived great pleasure from seeing the look of love that shrouded her features. What he loved about this was it could be caused by the simplest of gifts. His Catherine did not need the most expensive of gemstones to show him she loved him. They could be taking a walk in a park; he could pick a daisy and present it to her that was enough. The smile would fill her face, the love reflected in her eyes, his reward a kiss.

That is not to say he did not try to give her everything she desired and more. He would celebrate her birthdays with gifts worthy of a queen. Money was of little object when it came to his wife's gift.

Gil however knew a secret few men learn in their lifetime of love. He knew that mere tokens of his affection were not enough. Genuine love was more than this. It was taking time to talk with her. It was listening to her, even when he could make no real sense of what she was saying. It was holding her at the end of the day, making her laugh on the darkest of days, and banishing her cares. It was trusting her and telling her he did so, above all it was loving her.

He wanted to give her the world, the moon and the stars. She knew that and constantly reassured him he had. She had no need for ostentatious gems that she would wear once a year. She was grateful to have him, sharing her life with his. To her this made her universe complete. She told him so, often.

He still bought her flowers, a Tiffany emblazoned box on her birthday. But he did this knowing this was more than she desired. She did not need him to show her in this way that he loved her; she was secure enough in that knowledge. His delight was surprising her, giving her more than she hoped for, content in the fact that he'd already delivered the universe and its multitude of stars, that was clearly reflected in her eyes as she accepted each gift he gave graciously.

Love is a feeling to treasure.

Catherine had rarely felt like this before. This feeling of completeness, care the warmth of love.

Her past had been scattered with liaisons she thought were love. But there was a fine line between love and lust. She had to admit to herself she'd had more occasions of being in lust with someone than in love.

There had been two occasions of love though. The first Eddie, her first real love, he'd taken a piece of her heart, she'd found hard to replace until of late. There was lust and love with Eddie. She'd forgive him indiscretions; push him to the edge of known reason in the hope that in that last grasp for their reality, his love for her would once more shine through. By the time she realized how much it would hurt to lose him, their love was lost, poisoned, choked by their childish games trying to gain control over something neither could claim as theirs as they shared it.

Eddie had bruised her heart, not always due to his bidding, but often through her own insecurities that only ignited his anger. She'd grieved for him when he died, true sorrow an emptiness that made her feel hollow. For months she'd expected him to suddenly appear at her door, demanding her, money or Lindsey depending on his mood. She'd wanted that to happen, his death to be some sick ploy he'd played to avoid some soured business dealing. But that wasn't to be.

She learnt to live again and to her great surprise love again. Following the destruction of what she'd had with Eddie, she knew the true value of love. Knowing it was more precious than any haul of diamonds, fed her determination to hold onto this love. Knowing what she'd lose made her cherish it more. Having lost love once she was resolute she would not lose this love.

Gradually Gil's love for her repaired the piece of her heart that had been lost to Eddie. He helped her to heal with the love he showed her. The value of his love to her was immeasurable. She'd not thought love possible after Eddie, resigning herself to brief relationships, chances to connect without being hurt.

She knew that this new love with Gil was a gamble. That by investing in it she'd expose herself, allow herself possible hurt in the future. But as she was pulled further into this love she could not pull away, investing more of herself and wishing and praying that it would not collapse, as with each day that passed, each milestone was reached, she knew she could not survive the hurt of the failure of this love.

So she tended the love, treasuring it, cultivating it, ensuring it was strong enough to not bring her heartbreak. This was a love she intended to cherish for the rest of her life.

Love is when he's out of sight but on your mind

The one thing that surprised Catherine about her love for Gil was the way he seemed to render her incapable of losing him from her mind. He was always there with her at the crime scenes, the supermarket, and Lindsey's soccer game. She would be doing the simplest of tasks; the most mundane of things and his image would come to the forefront of her mind. She'd find herself replaying conversations they'd had, as well as having silent conversations to plan events for when they were together.

At a crime scene she'd even, much to her embarrassment, called Nick, Gil. The smile on his face went some way to putting her at her ease, but it did not prevent her from berating herself for behaving like a lovesick teenager. The one redeeming fact of the whole incident had been the fact that Warrick wasn't working with them. They'd flirted in the past, but not since her marriage. She'd caught him looking at her on occasion, causing her to wonder what his true feelings for her were. In her mind he was and evermore would be a close friend. She would hate to harm that friendship with a careless slip of the tongue.

That morning, as she'd shared a quiet breakfast with Gil, she recounted the events only to have her worries greeted by a grin.

"What are you smiling at Gil?"

"Come here." He opened his arms to her, pulling her into an embrace. "I did not mean to upset you. I just…I'm feeling very proud of myself right now."

"Proud?"

"Who wouldn't be? A beautiful woman can't get me off her mind. I never knew I affected you so."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "You have no idea of how much you affect me. I love you."

He kissed her forehead. "Thank you. Thank you for loving me, letting me into your life."

Love is missing him before he left

Gil was going to a conference, two nights away in New York. She'd tried to persuade him to let her go with him, but with Lindsey's full schedule of activities and the new mayor asserting his authority, there was no way they could justify the two of them being away from Las Vegas.

So she'd spent their last morning together following him around the house. Trying to initiate as many hugs as possible before he disappeared.

"Catherine, you could help me." He suggested in his most patient tone.

She pouted in return. Moving quickly behind him to encircle her arms around him from behind. "If I do that means you'll be gone sooner." She rested the left side of her face against his back, her intention clear, she was not going to make this easy.

He prised her arms gently apart, then twisted round so he was facing her, allowing her face to now rest against his chest. "I'm going to have to go, honey. This conference is important. You know I wouldn't go if it wasn't."

The stubbornness in her forbid her from replying.

So he moved ever so slightly, shifting his weight so he bent his knees to draw his eyes level with hers. Then he sighed, pulling her tight, he showered her face with kisses. "I'll miss you too sweetheart. Do you honestly think I'd rather be in some hotel, with a group of egotistical scientists whose sole purpose for being there is to disprove each theory that's presented? I'd far rather be here with you. The woman I love."

"I miss you already and you haven't even gone."

He glanced at his watch, his lips moving in a silent calculation. "50hours, 23 minutes and 14 seconds."

"What?"

"That's how long it will be until I can do this again."

She kissed him reply. Then straightened his lapels before patting them flat. "Go, go now and then you can return all the faster."

"One more kiss before I leave."

As their lips met they savoured the touch, committing each nuance to memory to be drawn upon during their time apart.

Love is being together at the end of the day

At the end of each day both Catherine and Gil knew their love would be waiting for them at home.

For them both it was hard to contemplate what life had been like before they were together.

For Gil it had meant going home to an empty house. Often after spending several hours completing unpaid overtime. He would hide at the lab often; it was his refuge from the loneliness he felt at home. Once at his townhouse he'd busy himself with mindless tasks, trying to convince himself his life was too busy for anything or anyone else. He'd fall asleep watching baseball, in season, or listening to the strains of some classical composer. When the cases were difficult, he'd often not go home, preferring to stay at the lab, hide away in his office aware that others were around and so preventing him breaking down emotionally.

For Catherine it may have seemed different, but the loneliness was still evident. Yes she had a daughter to care for, who loved her, a mother who cared for her. But she didn't have that contact she craved. She sought it out, embarking on friendships that sometimes led to brief relationships, but there was nothing she could grasp hold of. Nobody to listen to her, hold her and understand why she cried over the fate of a stranger.

That all changed when they became a couple. There was an understanding that did not need to be spoken. They knew when the days were long or difficult they just needed to hold one another, reconnect, and reassure themselves that although the world allowed some horrors to occur, they still had one another. Knowing just that was reason enough to strengthen them, encourage them to face another day, another parent's nightmare, to try to bring justice for those who had no voice.

Gil no longer hid himself in his office. He would do the least amount of overtime his position would allow, as now he wanted nothing more at the end of the day than to be with her, the one he loved.

Love is wearing his clothes

"Cath…?"

"Hmmm."

"Catherine?"

"Yes."

"Where is it?

"Where's what Gil?"

"You know…my T-shirt."

"I thought you had one on."

"I do." He sighed, "but it's not my favourite one."

At his words she slunk lower in the bed.

"Catherine?"

"Yes Gil."

"What have you done with it?"

"I don't know what…." She stopped as he raised an eyebrow at her words. "I really don't know what all the fuss is about, it's just a T-shirt."

"Just a T-shirt! Catherine, it is my Royal Entomological Society shirt. There are very few of these in the world it is a great privilege to be given one. You know it is my favourite shirt, so please honey, tell me it wasn't mangled in the washer."

She smiled, and then looked a little guilty. "You were late home tonight. I just needed…I needed you and you weren't here, I needed something to connect with you so…" she let the covers fall as she sat, revealing the longed for shirt.

Gil's frustration vanished at the site of his wife in his favourite shirt. He smiled at her. "Let's call it a loan. Seeing as I'm home now, would you like a hug?"

"There's nothing I'd like more."

Love is when he whispers how much he loves you

Love has many voices, a scream, a shout, a yell, a laugh, but the one that Catherine loved above all others was a whisper.

The whisper of love her husband gave to her. He seemed to have perfected the timing of such whispers too. Knowing instinctively when she needed to hear the reaffirmation of his feelings for her.

She did not know what affected her most, the words or the way in which they were said. The whispers themselves were like the kiss of an angel, softly brushing against her hair, her ear. That would cause an immediate reaction, a wave of love, contentment would start from that touch of his breath and travel through her body until it reached her toes. As it completed its journey it would wake the dormant butterflies in her stomach, setting them to a frenzied flight.

Her legs would lose their bones, and their ability to support her, as they seemed to be filled with bubbling jell-o.

Then there were the words he used. He'd convince her that she was important, valued, cherished and most of all loved. He would fill her heart with his sweet words, to the point where she felt it would surely explode.

Above all what made these whispers of love special was the fact that they were a secret. A secret shared between the two of them and hidden from the world around them.

Love is knowing your heart is safe with him.

Catherine would often take time to thank the fates for what they'd brought to her life. She had a daughter who was growing into a beautiful young woman, a husband who she adored and returned that not only to her, but also to her daughter. She was blessed.

In Gil, her husband, she'd found a security she'd not thought possible. She could without fear, give him her heart knowing he'd nurture it and care for it. She had no fears that he would harm her; he loved her and took any available opportunity to tell her and show her.

He was destined to be the guardian of her heart, a man she could trust to care for it. She'd willingly given him this task, early on in their relationship. There was from the very start an unspoken trust between them, knowing that they each had a tremendous feeling of love for the other that it would pain them to cause hurt.

Yes, her heart was safe and for that she was thankful.

For the two of them had found together what love is….

The end