While I was watching you did a slow dissolve

He knew he shouldn't be standing there, watching her. She was oblivious to his presence that was clear by her complete disintegration before him. He shouldn't be watching her. He shouldn't be seeing this, but it was too late, now he was there, there was nothing that could pull him away.

He saw the despair as it cloaked her. Her shoulders dropped, as her chin came to rest almost on her chest. He heard her draw in a long breath as the strawberry blonde hair, fell around her face, shielding it from his gaze. Another long shuddering breath, and he felt something inside him change, a heavy weight settled on his chest. He really shouldn't be here watching this, but he was trapped, he knew her pain could only multiply if his presence were known.

She leant against the lockers, no doubt for support, as her body began to shake her right leg shuddered. Her shoulders curled in as her body sought out the security of the foetal position. Slowly her body slid down the lockers, she seemed unaware of her slow progression to the floor. As her body made contact with it, she drew her knees towards her chest, burying her head against her knees, her body trembling as she let her emotions gain release.

The weight in Gil's chest seemed to become heavier. He felt a burning in his throat. He wished he could comfort her, put his arms around her, chase away whatever demons held her in their grip. But he knew that was forbidden. He knew she'd be mortified to know he'd witnessed her current break down. She seemed so lost, so broken. He stood hidden, wishing the past year could be undone, and the hurt he'd caused could somehow be erased.

There was a commotion of voices in the corridor outside that startled her. The laughter that seeped through the walls seemed to wrench her back to reality. She looked up startled, her eyes scanning the room. She peered in the direction where he was hidden, her eyes fixing on that spot for several seconds that felt like hours to him as he held his breath. He was certain his presence would be treated with the disdain he knew it deserved, but despite his transgression, his admittance of guilt, he still had that vague desire to remain undiscovered. As in the moments he'd watched her, he reached the comprehension that he missed her.

While I was watching you did a slow dissolve

Two nights later and the events of the locker room still weighed heavily on Gil. Each time he'd been near Cath he'd been oddly distracted. He felt the need to search her features, trying to find some evidence, a crack in the veneer she displayed to the world, some way to open up to her.

He contemplated working a case with her, but there was something preventing him. It was almost as if she was challenging him, daring him to pity her and suffer the consequences of such an action. He was not that brave.

Instead the tension built between them, much of his own making. He was blind to the effect this was having on her, how her already fragile persona seemed to melt, becoming a shadow of her previous self.

She was there, amongst them, but a ghost, sinking into the background, letting others steal the attention, while she was a silent observer, watching, listening, but not contributing unless directly addressed.

He wondered if he was the only one who missed her, if he was the only one to notice. He almost convinced himself of this fact, until he caught the animosity with which he was viewed in the eyes of Warrick. There was a contempt that was not spoken, but clearly addressed to him. He did not have the fortitude to challenge him, instead sinking his head into the case they were reviewing, his eyes anywhere but in the vicinity of the younger man, fearing what he may see reflected there.

He knew he was responsible, knew he was the cause of her undoing; he felt the guilt when he saw her, but had no concept of how he could resolve this.

While I was watching you did a slow dissolve

A month had passed since he'd seen her in the locker room. He'd not mentioned it, as he'd practically avoided her for that month. It wasn't out of cruelty, it wasn't to cause her further hurt, and he reasoned to himself that it was to prevent her hurt. He accepted his part, he'd admit to himself his responsibility. But that was where the honesty ended; he could not and would not confide in anyone else. She had become more withdrawn as the month progressed. He wondered sometimes at her strength, that she could continue to appear for work, night after night; work that used to give her a vibrancy but now left her exhausted. She was a pale shadow of the woman he'd loved, but not dared to confess to.

The simplest act seemed to leave her fatigued; yet she continued, not complaining. Maybe it was this acceptance of her new status in the team that worried him the most, that drove him to do something without thinking it through, something that would shatter what minute amount of mutual respect and friendship that still remained. Although he would claim to be acting for his friend, he'd ceased to see her as such; she was now a hindrance to his team. She was not deficient in her job, far from it, it was her presence, what she had become, she had the sympathy of three members of his team, whether she sought it or not was immaterial, but through their support of her, he felt undermined. She may well sink into the walls, becoming barely visible around the lab, but this change affected those around her, as the abyss that was her former self was left wide open, despite his attempts to fill it.

Did I imagine or do the walls have eyes
Did I imagine they held us hypnotized
Did I imagine or do the walls have eyes

He had started that night, as they held their usual case conference, he'd asked her opinion about a particular blood spatter pattern.

She'd answered curtly but precisely.

Then he'd fixed her with his gaze his eyebrow slightly raised and asked. "Are you sure about that Willows?"

Her eyes had narrowed her face had flushed. He knew he was in trouble on two counts, one for questioning her area of expertise, and secondly for addressing her by her surname.

The room seemed to unconsciously hold its breath. Sides were silently taken, allegiances made. Four sets of eyes bore down on Gil, but he did not waver, instead his head gently cocked to one side, his eyebrow raised, awaiting her reply.

Catherine shook herself, silently assuring herself that she was right, trying to ignore the look on his face, and his ally's penetrating gaze as a small smirk played around the brunette's lips. "The arterial spray indicates, as I said earlier, that a single cut left to right across the victim's neck was the cause of the blood on the wall. The additional wounds to the body, although they would cause cast off droplets as the weapon was withdrawn, these droplets, they are not evident, you can tell by the size and arc of the spatter." She let a soft sigh of relief be released, as she finished, proud that she'd not displayed any trace of emotion as she gave her findings.

Gil narrowed his eyes. "Are we boring you?"

She looked up shocked, "What?"

"The sigh, I thought we were boring you."

She stood, walking the short distance to the head of the table where he sat, she leant down, so her face was almost touching his and all but growled. "Go to hell Grissom." She stood and stalked out of the room.

The rest of the shift was completed with an air of uneasy tension evident. Towards the end of the shift, Gil had summoned Catherine to his office. She arrived, her body tense, but her head held high.

He waved towards a chair before his desk, "Please sit."

"I'd rather stand." She'd stated.

He sighed. "About earlier. I'm sorry I shouldn't have…"

"No you shouldn't." Her eyes flashed in anger, as her body stiffened.

He leant back in his chair, opening his hands that lay on his desk, hoping she'd accept this act of submission. "Look Catherine, there's clearly something wrong with you. You're not yourself. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, half mumbling, yet impatient. It was clear she'd rather be anywhere but her in this room with him.

Gil sucked in a breath, gaining the courage to continue. "Why are you so angry with me? So upset? You look like you haven't slept in months; you are at the point of collapse. What happened to the woman I knew six months ago? What's going on Catherine?"

"You have no right to ask that." She spat

"I know what I saw." The worry and concern he had for her over the past few weeks, seemed to choke him, making it impossible to enable her to comprehend his intent of care.

"What you wanted to see you mean." She hissed, as she leant forward, her hands grazing the top of the desk.

His voice became softer, gentle, an arm reaching out to her. "I saw you. I saw how broken you were…" He gulped a breath, "In the locker room..."

She looked up sharply spearing him with a look. "You saw nothing." The bile with which she said it, should have warned him but he was resilient. Now they'd started on this path, he was determined to reach its end/.v

"You were crying, I've never seen you so fragile, so broken, it scared me." He reached towards her again, only to withdraw the offered hand as she shrank away.

"Scared you? Scared you how? So you ignore me, forget I exist then try to humiliate me…prove that the great Gil Grissom knows more than me." She shook her head. Her eyes squeezing shut as you tried to maintain some element of control.

"I…I…" He stuttered.

"You what?" She crossed her arms, "Go on tell me what you think. What's next? Hmm are you going to suspend me? Give me a formal reprimand? Mark my records what? I dare you to?"

"I…" His voice cracked as her resentment seemed to cut through him.

"Go on, reprimand me, put a note on my records, report me to Ecklie dammit, and for what, telling you to go to hell, because let's face it Grissom, that's the only thing you can reprimand me for." Her eyes held his challenging him, her lip quivered as her hands started to shake uncontrollably, she brought them together, clasping them tightly so her knuckles turned white with the effort, but in so doing succeeding in ceasing their frenzied movements.

"No, I wouldn't…" he stated, the defeat evident in his voice.

"No I guess you wouldn't, you don't have the guts to, do you?" She accused, the fire returning anew.

"Catherine…I want to help." He pleaded.

"What?" She laughed a hollow sound resonating in the room. "You help me. Haven't you done enough? Why would I want your help?" She turned moving towards the door.

"Because…we're …"

She turned, facing him, her eyes ablaze as she took a step towards him "We're what?"

"Friends…" He offered, his voice steady belying the turmoil of his head and heart.

"God Gil, we stopped being friends months ago, or is that another thing you failed to notice?" The fight seemed to leave her suddenly, her voice becoming softer, accepting. "Do whatever the hell you want, you will anyway, I really don't care anymore.

She turned once more walking to the door, as her hand surrounded the door handle, Gil approached her, "Cath…"

"Don't," She half whispered. "I can't anymore Gil, don't you understand?" She looked up at him; her eyes filled with tears, the pain on her face tore at his heart. He had done this to her. He took a step backwards, allowing her to leave the security of his office. He sat at his desk, allowing the shadows to envelop him. He wanted to hide away, as the realisation that he'd pushed too far slowly start to dawn on him.

Five minutes later, and less than twenty minutes after Catherine had left, there was an abrupt knock at his door. Sara was framed in the doorway, her eyes bright, a smile playing around her lips. "Are you okay in here Gris? I mean I heard…she was…"

"She was what, Sara?" He fixed her with a gaze.

She took two steps inside his office, closing the door behind her, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "You have to admit this has been a long time coming. She's parading around the lab like she's better than us. What contribution does she actually make?"

"Sara…" He warned.

"What?" She shrugged. "She doesn't accept that the rest of us can do her job. Look how she was in the case conference earlier. You had every right to question her…"

"No, you're wrong. I didn't." He looked down at the papers before him, hoping to hide the guilt of what he'd done.

Sara pursed her lips, and then continued. "Well there was no excuse for her little tantrum."

Gil looked up, his voice soft yet resolute. "Yes there was, I deserved that." He sighed, "Look Sara, I'm not prepared to discuss my relationship with Catherine further, and I'd appreciate it if you would not make the disagreement we had the subject of some idle office gossip train. Catherine does not deserve that."

Sara stood for a moment. Letting his words sink in. "Well it's not just me, I mean the whole lab heard, how couldn't we…"

He pierced her with a look. "Then I'd appreciate your silence on the matter, you could set an example, and gossip will only persist when an antagonism exists. I know Catherine's not your favourite person, but I am asking you to give her some respect, this was not of her making. I'll talk to the rest of the lab, now if there's nothing further; I have a lot of paperwork that needs completing. Could you close the door on your way out."

Life in slow motion somehow it don't feel real

He'd watched her as she left his office, the next night. Her back was straight. He admired the fact that she'd braved the looks, the whispers that halted the moment she drew near. He wished she would turn around, so he could see her face, measure if she'd healed, but he was also afraid, that if she were to turn, to face him, he'd see the pain reflected there. So he let her disappear, drift into the melee that was the lab.

He saw the purpose of her presence in his office as soon as he entered; a brown envelope lay upon his desk, her unmistakeable handwriting identifying him as the recipient. With shuddering hands, he tore at the seal, his stomach contracting as he withdrew her request. He sat heavily on his chair, his energy suddenly disappearing as an element of relief flooded through him. She wasn't leaving him, merely requesting to transfer to days. He'd still see her; have the opportunity to ensure she was doing better.

He smiled, he would approve the request, hell he'd go to Ecklie in person and demand that she was transferred immediately. Anything to ensure she did not slip away.

Life in slow motion somehow it don't feel real

Three months later, and the remnants of his team had started to heal. The evidence of this being the gentle humour and teasing that started to re-emerge, meals started to be arranged, he was always invited, but never attended. He had assigned himself the task of guardian of his team, watching over them, while maintaining a safe distance not daring to engage in case he caused another fracture amongst them. He watched the hallways and labs for a trace of Catherine, often catching sight of her as she completed her work at the end of her day and the start of his. She seemed happier, looked healthier; all signs to him that his sacrifice of losing her was for the best, no matter how much her absence hurt him.

This was how he'd survived the past few months, odd glimpses of her, tantalising close, but yet that distance still separated them. It was a punishment of his own making, a purgatory he'd created to penalize his own failings. He'd have survived there, willingly, was expecting to, he knew he deserved no more, but that was to change.

He'd arrived early for his shift one Wednesday, a habit he'd slowly grown into as he realised that this was his best way of catching a glimpse of her. He'd slowly investigated each of the labs in an attempt to seek her out, but to no avail. At a loss as to where to search for her next, he'd found himself in the break room. Seeing the coffee machine needed refilling, he set about this task; the tedious nature of it was oddly comforting to him.

As he finished, he rinsed his hands, quickly drying them, and turned around. His heart seemed to rise to his throat, as she stood here before him. He blushed. "Were you watching me?"

She smiled, and his world stopped. "Payback's a bitch isn't it?"

He looked embarrassed, managing to stutter, "Err...I'm…what?"

She grinned, coming to stand beside him. Her eyes that had once been filled with anger were now overflowing with life. "Don't deny it," she leant against the counter, her shoulder brushing his, "I know you've been watching me."

The heat rose to his face, he looked away, studying his shuffling feet. "It's not what you think…I mean…"

"Ah, still think you can read my thoughts I see." Her tone was light no animosity within it, but he could not help but react.

"No." He looked up sharply. "I'm ...I'm not that person you hated." His eyes held hers pleading with her to believe him.

She smiled, a gentle soft smile, her voice became tender, "I know I was just teasing."

They held each other's gaze, frozen in time neither confident of the path to take now the thaw had set in between them.

The coffee machine sputtered behind them, as the last drops of water fought to reach the carafe. Catherine chuckled. "Well now that's sorted, how about some coffee?"

He nodded agreement, and watched fascinated as her hands deftly fixed his drink, he smiled she'd offered him an olive branch; he was determined to grip hold of it as if his life depended on it. "Ehmm… would you like to come and sit in my office…"

Her right eyebrow rose. "That sounds...I don't know." Her laugh filled the room, and was soon met with his deep chuckling. Slowly she recovered, she smiled. "I'd really like to, but I'm in the middle of this huge case, the mayor, well you know how he gets."

He smiled, but failed not to look disappointed. "Okay." He muttered.

She startled him by placing her hand on his arm. "Really, I'd have like that. Rain check?"

He nodded eagerly, and then smiled. "Good luck with the mayor."

She returned the smile. "Thanks." Then turned and hurried out of the room.

Life in slow motion somehow it don't feel real

It was a few days later before he saw her again. After their last meeting he had the courage to seek her out and not remain at a distance.

She smiled as he entered the AV lab. "Hi."

"Hi yourself."

"So…" She drew out the word as if weighing the wisdom of her next words before setting them free. "You decided to brave my presence." He chuckled. "Well you do strike fear into men."

She grinned. "Scared of me?"

A smile played around his lips, his eyes darted around her face, finally fixing on her eyes. He lowered his voice. "Oh yeah."

Her grin widened impossibly, "Good."

He chuckled, he'd missed this, and he'd missed her. "How's dayshift?"

She smiled, moving her head to one side slightly, and then chuckled. "You need to ask? I thought you'd know, the way you've had me under surveillance since I left the security of your team." Her eyes narrowed teasingly.

He swallowed hard, he was in trouble, and she knew it. "Security?"

"Don't look so surprised Gil. You made me feel secure, and although it pissed me off completely at first that you were keeping this silent observation of me, I don't know there was something comforting about it too, knowing you'd not completely given me up as a lost cause."

"You were never a lost cause." He half whispered, his hand came out, gently resting against her cheek. He delighted in the fact that she leant into it, that she trusted him enough to strengthen that brief contact he'd initiated.

Slowly she lifted her head. "I missed you."

He smiled. "You were missed."

She smiled again, no hint of teasing in her eyes. "Thank you."

He returned the smile. Then shuffled his feet slightly uncertainty once more gripping him. "I…I guess I'd better let you get back to work. Ehmm before I do would you…no it's too soon."

She looked puzzled a slight frown playing around her forehead. "What? You'll never know unless you ask."

He drew in a deep breath. "Would you like to have dinner with me."

She smiled "I'd love to. See that wasn't so bad was it? Let me check my schedule and Lindsey's and we can set a day tomorrow okay?"

He nodded, "Yes, tomorrow, good, right then, I'll let you get on." He walked the short distance to his office; his heart lighter than it had been for many months.

Snowflakes are falling I'll catch them in my hands

The impossible had happened, in his mind, it had been a further four months, and several dinners later and he'd finally managed it. He'd persuaded Catherine to return to his team. He'd been excited the first night of her first shift, the thought of the team reuniting to him had only seemed as a method of enhancing it, strengthening it by replacing that missing element.

As she'd arrived in the break room, he'd stood back slightly, watching as she was greeted with hugs from the three men. He noticed Sara remained seated; she fixed him with a gaze filled with disappointment. He'd not been entirely surprised by this. He'd hoped the time apart would have tapered her hostility, but it appeared not to have. He did not let it taint his mood; she would have to learn to live with his decision. If not then she would need to sacrifice her position on the team; the past months had proved that they could survive without one of what they'd always considered the core members.

Snowflakes are falling I'll catch them in my hands

As the months passed, the initial fractious behaviour from Sara had eased. She'd come to accept Catherine as an equal, although Gil was still wary of letting the two of them work a case together.

Catherine had become accustomed to helping him with case reviews, straying towards his office at the end of a shift, sometimes to just slowly relieve herself of the absurdity of a case, sometimes to help him with his paperwork, but increasingly to share her life with him. Towards the middle of the shift, the team started to notice Gil's changing of moods, he was increasingly more abrupt when discussing cases. He could not help it, he felt the time he shared with Catherine was precious, he did not want to lose the briefest of seconds, as this contact with her, was something he'd grown to rely upon. They still shared meals, spent time together outside the lab, but he craved more.

The tides of their relationship shifted once more early one morning. Catherine had come to his office, finding him on the sofa, his eyes closed. She'd turned about to leave when his voice startled her. "Don't go."

She spun around, "Sorry, I thought you were asleep. You need to get your rest."

"Come and sit here." He patted the sofa beside him, smiling as she came to join him. "So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

She chuckled. "Do I need a reason?"

He smiled. "Apparently not."

She smiled, letting him take hold of her hand, gently tracing circles on the palm. A silence encompassed the room, as they sat together.

Slowly Gil turned to her. "Are you happy?"

She smiled. "Yeah, yes I am."

"Good. I don't like to see you sad."

"Gil?" She asked concerned. "Are you okay?" A slight frown creased her forehead.

"Yes. Why?"

"I don't know, you just seem…I don't know, not your usual self."

"I've been thinking." He allowed her to laugh before continuing. "I'm glad the thought of me thinking is so amusing. I've been thinking about us."

"Oh." She whispered.

"Oh indeed. I've reached a conclusion."

"Which is?" She shakily murmured

"I don't think I can be your friend anymore, no that's wrong. I don't want to be just your friend, you see, you fill my thoughts, my dreams, my nights, my days, I think I love you." He leant in kissing her lips gently.

Snowflakes are falling now you're my long lost friend

The End