“Let’s face it Gil, you are hardly the epitome of fun.” Catherine smiled at him.

“Catherine, I do know how to have fun.”

“When Gil? You barely crack a smile at work, laugh, joviality, well those times are rare.”

“But it’s a place of work.”

“True, but sometimes people need to relieve the tension.”

“So you think I was too harsh on Greg?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but I do.”

“Catherine, he needs to grow up. He wants to be taken seriously as a CSI, surely you can’t condone the way he behaved.”

Catherine smiled. The vision of Greg completing a rumba style dance while singing the Copacabana at the top of his voice, although slightly out of tune, in the break room, was one she’d find hard to banish. The fact that Nick was sitting at the table, doing a Simon Cowell impression, as he watched the performance with every intention of critiquing the younger man, just added to the general sense of respite she’d needed. The past few weeks had taken its toll on all of them, plenty of overtime, with several harrowing cases to be resolved. She was pleased to see at least two team members taking time to relax.

Gil, however, had not viewed the scene so lightly when he’d walked in. Nick had managed to quickly appear to be working; the same was not true of Greg, who was reminded of the importance of a professional working environment, in a lecture by Gil in which all of his frustration of the previous weeks was vented.

Catherine knew better than to challenge Gil at the time, instead biding her time. She had a plan, a way to help him to unwind, knowing that was what was behind his anger, not Greg’s performance. All she needed to do was to get him to comply.

She sighed. “I know what you are saying. But you forget everyone is not like you. The rest of us need time to relax, let our hair down. We’re not machines, with our sole focus being the job.”

“Is that what you think I am, a machine?”

She paused, appearing to be mentally weighing up her options, her next words. She stood, moving to rest against his desk, facing him. She took hold of his hand. “I know you are not a machine, I know you care, love us all.” She smiled, squeezing his hand as she heard him suck in a breath in anticipation of the ‘but’. “It’s just the rest of the team are still young. At times you seem so distant, so removed from them, it’s as if you’ve forgotten what fun is. You work so hard, too hard at times, it’s hard to do everything you want, close every case. But you need to give yourself time, relax, have fun, or you’ll not be here with us in a couple of years.” She felt tears burning behind her eyes, “I don’t think I could do this knowing you weren’t here. You are too important to me, for me to lose you to this job.”

Her tears had not gone unnoticed by him. He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, wanting to pull her into his arms, comfort her, tell her of his love for her, but that fear that lived in the pit of his stomach prevented him, how could he do that here, of all places? Instead he settled for comforting her with the slightest of touches, and the offer to change, for her. “What can I do? What do you want me to do?”

She looked down at their joined hands, part of her wanted to plead for more, to be held by him, caressed, but she knew that would push him too far, and possibly lose him. She raised her head to look at him. “Take tomorrow off. Spend the day with me. Just you and me.”

“I don’t know, there’s the lab and...”

“You asked me what you could do. If you are not willing to give one day, that’s all I ask one day, then I don’t know. Maybe it is too late. Maybe I’ve already lost you.”

As she started to withdraw her hands from his, he tightened his grip on them, causing her to look up at him. The fact that she’d referred to herself as losing him and not the team was not lost on him. “I’m sorry. A day for what?”

“For you and me.”

“To do what?”

“Does everything have to be planned? Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you Catherine.”

“Well I take that as a yes. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.” She leant in and gently rested her lips against his forehead, not exactly a kiss in his mind, yet contact was made. The area where her lips touched him, tingled, filling him with an unexpected feeling of comfort, a strange and unusual feeling, he’d not encountered for so long.

He watched her leave his office, not concerned about her plans for their day, just filled with the anticipation of being with her for a whole day.

At nine o’clock a rather nervous Gil Grissom, shuffled on the porch at Catherine’s house, waiting for her to appear.

He didn’t have to wait long, before Catherine appeared before him, smiling and carrying a small bag in her right hand. “You’re on time.”

“I was afraid not to be.” He countered a little nervously.

She laughed, shaking her hair, then linking her arm through his and hugging it to her. “There really is no need. You trust me and you know I’ll take good care of you.” She all but purred.

Gil felt the heat of his cheeks as they blushed. Realization hit him that he could indeed be in a great deal of trouble by the end of the evening. It was true he did trust her, sort of, but then her ideas of fun were no doubt very different from his. What was he doing? Really? Fifty years old and still putty in the hands of this woman, when would he learn? He coughed, thinking foolishly that act would enable him to regain control, but he’d not reckoned for Catherine Willows, who in response, squeezed his arm closer to her and looked up expectantly. “Ehmm, where …where are we going?”

She smiled, winked and then half laughingly answered. “Now that’d be telling.”

“How….”

“Keys.” She demanded.

True to form, without a hint of argument, he handed over his keys. Why was it so easy to comply with her wishes, yet keep his own so secret?

They walked to the car, Gil holding the driver’s door open for Catherine, who rewarded him with a smile as she climbed in. He walked around the front of the Tahoe, climbing into the passenger side. As he reached for his seat belt, he smiled at her raising an eyebrow. “What no blindfold?”

“Hmm…. I’m sure there’s something we could use.” She started to look around the vehicle, only stopping when Gil put a hand on her arm.

“Cath!” He all but squeaked.

She tried to smother her laughter unsuccessfully at the look of abject horror on his face. Then she winked, “Maybe we need to save that for date number five.”

“D… d…date?”

“Well what else would you call this? You, me, going out together on a non-work related matter. I’d call it a date. Why, is that not okay?”

He smiled. “No, it’s more than okay.” He had not missed the fact that more of these ‘dates’ had already been planned. That same feeling of comfort he’d felt when her lips had brushed his skin, took hold, starting in his stomach and radiating out. Maybe, just maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

He allowed himself to relax as she drove him towards the strip. He was aware of her stolen glances in his direction, each one reigniting that feeling of comfort within him. His earlier concerns about trusting her were banished as a small smile took residence on his face.

As she turned once more to catch a glance, she caught the smile. “Ahh, the lesser spotted Grissom Grin.”

He chuckled, the deep melodic sound causing her to join him. “Really Cath, I’m not that bad.” He left off the ‘am I’, part of him was all too aware of his recent striving for a perfect conviction record and the toll it had taken upon him.

She grinned, “Hmmm, now lets analyse this shall we? The evidence; a five foot eleven workaholic, who is driving himself to an early grave, working all the hours he’s awake and yelling at anyone who dares to try to relax in the workplace.”

“Oh…really?”

Sensing the slight dismay in his voice, she smiled, and then patted his knee. “It’s okay, you are not beyond repair yet. I know the perfect cure.” She winked, setting his stomach into a sickening series of somersaults, no rollercoaster could rival.

“Should this worry me?” He smiled.

“Well, that all depends.”

“On what?”

She smiled. “Do you want to change?”

“I think so.”

“So you have nothing to worry about.” She grinned at him, causing him to return a grin.

A few minutes later, Catherine pulled into the parking lot at the Venetian. Gil shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat, the reality of having reached a destination, beginning to slowly chase away his anticipation.

As Catherine hooked her arm through his, so she could steer him through the casino floor, towards the Grand Canal Shoppes. The comfort he’d felt at having her so close, started to evaporate to be replaced by churning fear in his stomach at the thought of what she may have planned, after all she’d described this as a date.

As the canal with its serenading gondoliers came into sight, he emitted a brief nervous chuckle. “Ehmm Cath, I hope you don’t think I’m going on one of those with you.”

She speared him with a look. “Why ever not? Afraid to be seen with me?”

Gil felt his face start to heat up. “Err...no…its…”

She smiled. “My date, my rules. You have no say, remember that.”

“But….”

She saw the desperation in his eyes. “Don’t worry, we are not going to do that…yet.”

He nearly protested that he wasn’t going to do it ever, but knew before voicing this that that was by no means certain. If she wanted to be serenaded by a gondolier who was he to prevent it? He knew that when that fateful trip came, as he was sure it would, he would be sitting beside her and requesting her favourite aria was sung.

The look of perplexity increased as she led him towards the main entrance then out of the doors, taking the left hand bridge.

As they approached the end of the walkway, he saw their destination. Two security guards who were sending eager tourists away manned it. His concern grew, not because of her intended destination, but due to the fact she was about to have her plans thwarted by some as yet unexplained closure of this attraction. A part of him revelled in the fact that she had thought so much of him to plan to such an extent just to make him relax. Could it be that she shared his feelings?

“Madame Tussauds, Cath?”

Her smile was his answer.

“But it looks like there’s a problem, we could…”

“I told you Gil to trust me. You don’t think a little thing like this will stop my plans.”

She smiled, and then winked before sauntering towards the security guards. She said something to them that Gil could not hear, and then laughed. He felt a pang of jealousy at her obvious flirtation with these men, but then had to ground himself, reminding himself that she had chosen to bring him here, had described it as a date, with the promise of future dates, there really was no need to be jealous.

He was brought from his thoughts by Catherine, tugging on his arm, “Come on.” She resumed her place nestled next to him as they walked the short distance to the ticket counter.

Once there the manager of the exhibit met them. “Welcome, Ms Willows, Mr Grissom. As requested, the exhibit is yours for the evening, while we prepare for our special event, tomorrow.” He caught Gil’s raised eyebrow. “The unveiling of Angelina.”

“Ah, of course.” Gil managed to utter without laughing at the thought of the extent people in the city would go to for publicity.

“Should there be anything you need during your visit with us, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Catherine smiled. “Thank you, and thank you for meeting my request so quickly.”

“You’re welcome Ms Willows.”

Gil made sure they were out of the manager’s earshot before stopping and turning to Catherine. “How?”

“Well let’s just say it helps to have connections.”

“Sam?”

“No, not Sam, an old friend, he owed me a favour, and I decided to call it in.”

Gil smiled, comforted somewhat by the fact that Sam wasn’t pulling the strings. “Why here?”

She smiled, and then shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, I thought it’d be fun, something different, something I thought you’d never done before.” She paused her eyes falling to the ground. “You hate it don’t you? You think it’s too touristy.”

He gently cupped her face, raising it so he could capture her eyes. “Actually no. I’ve always wanted to visit; it’s quite fascinating really how they create them. I’ve always been interested in Marie Tussaud’s history. The thought of her trawling the decapitated bodies during the French Revolution to create death masks, imagine the sights she saw.”

Catherine shivered. “And I just came here to marry George?”

“George?”

Catherine giggled. “You can marry George Clooney. I figured after Ed, I need a bit of luck with men.”

Gil chuckled.

“But now he’s involved in this wax unveiling scene, it seems I’m going to have to make do with you.”

“You want to marry me?” Gil’s surprise was evident. “I…I…”

She laughed. “Not tonight. No I meant I’d make the best of your company.”

“Ah, okay.” He was relieved, but disappointed.

They spent some time looking at the various waxworks. Gil was soon mesmerized by the extent of the detail of each figure, he took advantage of the fact that the whole museum was theirs and studied celebrities intently. Catherine meanwhile took the camera she had brought out of her bag.

At the first flash, as he was examining Patrick Stewart, Gil looked up startled.

“I wanted to create some memories for you for when the days become eternal, and you forget what matters.”

He smiled, “Only if you are also in some of the photos my dear.”

Catherine handed the camera over to him. She sauntered across to a model of Sean Connery, putting her arm around his shoulder and leaning towards him, acting as if she was kissing his cheek. Gil chuckled, and then took the picture.

They linked arms as they walked into the area dedicated to sports. Catherine caught sight of Muhammed Ali’s figure. “Oh Gil you have to…”

He caught the object of her exclamation. Then smiled, “For you dear, of course.” He squared up to the waxwork, raising his fists, in a mock boxing pose. The flash of her camera told him he’d been immortalized. “You know I used to box for a while in college.”

“Really? That does surprise me.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh there are a few things that could still surprise you about me.”

Catherine posed with a couple more sports stars, hamming it up each time, with Joe Montana, she pretended to be caressing his chest, while with Agassi, she was a Wimbledon player on centre court.

By the time they got to the ‘Puttin’ a Round With Tiger’ experience, all of Gil’s inhibitions had vanished. He happily took hold of a club, measuring out the putt in his mind, each step of the process recorded by Catherine. As the putt was sunk and the crowd cheered, he thumped the air with his fist, dropped the club and caught Catherine unawares, lifting her from the ground swinging her around, before gently returning her to the ground and kissing her forehead. “Sorry, I guess I got carried away.”

She laughed. “Don’t apologize, that’s why I brought you here. It’s good to see you so relaxed, having fun.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She cocked her head to one side.

“For making me relax. For …I don’t know, for this.” He grasped her right hand in his.

“You’re welcome.” She grinned. Then raised herself onto her toes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He stood still, frozen by the act, only returning to his senses, when Catherine pulled on his hand. She insisted on being serenaded by Elvis, as he sang, she lost herself completely in the moment, allowing Gil to slip away.

As the song finished, she looked across to where he’d been stood. “Gil?” She called. Getting no response, she assumed he’d moved to the next exhibit. Not finding him there, she walked on. She found herself in ‘The Pirates of the Caribbean’ experience. The smell of the crew quarters and the creaking of the timbers unnerved her. “Gil?” She called unable to keep the nervousness out of her voice. “Come on, this is not funny.”

Hearing a creaking behind her, she turned around, but was met by emptiness. She took a tentative step forwards, shivering slightly.

A shape jumped out in front of her, there was a flash of light, she screamed. “What the….”

Gil’s laughter greeted her. “That was so funny. You should have seen your face, oh wait you can.” He fiddled with the settings of the camera. Turning to her triumphantly and showing her the shot he’d taken of her.

Struggling to return her heartbeat to its regular rhythm, Catherine failed to see the funny side of his prank. “That was not funny. And if anyone sees that picture I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Oh, Cath. Come on. You have to admit it was fun, out of character?”

She speared him with a look. “Hmm, maybe I prefer the five foot eleven workaholic, now you come to mention it.”

Gil’s face lost none of its excitement. “I know you don’t mean it. I also know you are going to have fun making me pay for that.”

She giggled. “True. Okay, have you seen enough? Are you ready for something to eat?”

“You are going to feed me too!”

She swatted at him with her right hand. “After that little stunt, I’m not sure if I should.”

They left the exhibit, returning to the Venetian. Catherine had reserved a private dining room at the Canaletto, causing Gil to wonder once more at the extent of her contacts; as such rooms were normally booked months in advance and accustomed to larger parties than two.

The meal was exquisite, the privacy of the room allowing them to talk as well as enjoy companionable silences. As Gil finished his glass of wine, he smiled across at Catherine. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“What did I say?”

“You talked of blindfolds on date number five. It wasn’t the blindfolds I’m questioning. It’s the dates.”

“Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me? It’s okay, if you don’t. I just thought of you as something more than a friend. I have for some time. I guess I finally plucked up the courage to do something about it.”

“I’m glad you did. I’ve enjoyed today, I would love to spend more time with you. I care for you Catherine; I’m not good at voicing these things. For a long time now you have been more than a friend, you have a special place in my heart. I would like to see if we could make something more from this. How about it?”

“If you’re asking if I’m ready to try to make this friendship into a relationship, then yes I’m ready.”

“Good, one request though.”

“What?”

“Can I choose our next date?”

“Hmmm, I suppose that’s fair.” She conceded. “So where are you taking me?”

“That my dear is a surprise.” He smiled, and then leant across the table, capturing her lips with his.

The End