"You sure you're ok?" - Poor Warrick. His eyes show real concern, no wonder to me... We've been in this plane for forty five minutes and I've already been to the toilet three times. I dryly answer "yes" but I can't convince him. I wasn't expecting it either.

I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. If I could sleep for the rest of the flight everything would be ok, but I know I won't be that lucky. As soon as I close my eyes, that thought comes to haunt me again. I don't understand why I enjoy torturing myself like this. I can't stop thinking about it. No, not "it". "Him". I can't stop thinking about Him. I said goodbye to Horatio with a hand shake and I wished I could have stayed. I know it would've been just sex, at least for me, but sex is the only thing that could make me forget, at least for a few minutes. The only thing that could make me feel alive again. And it wouldn't be comparable to what I really want, but that I can't have... Oh no Catherine!... not again! I'm so glad I let Warrick have the window seat, it's so much easier to run to the toilet without having to jump over his legs first.

I run down the narrow plane corridor without bothering about what the other passengers might think about my frequency and urgency to get to the toilet, and when I finally get there and close the thin metallic door my hands are shaking so much I can't lock it. The door slams open suddenly and knocks me, and I stumble and end *delete this word* hit the wall with my back.

"Catherine, what the fuck...?

I've finally got on Warrick's nerves . Well done kid. - "Warrick, get the hell outta here!" - I yell at him without noticing tone and volume as I stand up and push him off, locking the door after him. And I finally cry. I cry even harder than the three previous times. I'm now crying in anger and despair. Helplessly. And I'm completely aware of the fact that he is listening from the other side of the door. Warrick and about fifty strangers in a state of wonder. That only makes me feel worse. "Catherine the rock", "Indestructible Catherine" is crying like a child and giving the show of her life.

I'm not aware of how long it's been since I locked up myself till I hear a stewardess asking Warrick why his wife has been crying in the toilet for ten minutes, and what makes us think we can disturb every other passenger flight. Poor Warrick. He won't forgive me this time. I gather the little sanity and strength I have left and open the door. If I give a show, I get credit for it. The stewardess looks surprised when she sees me. I guess she expected a different "wife" for Warrick, but she says nothing. He's only staring. I hold his hand and lead him back to our seats after apologizing to the "flight assistant" as she kindly corrected me, and promising him I'll explain.

As we walk to our seats, I can feel everybody gazing at me. They all want to know. I don't blame them, I'm very interested in hysteric behavior myself. I even took some very interesting classes about it. Warrick grants me access to the window seat, I know he doesn't want me to get up in a rush again.

I sit down.
He sits down.
We look at each other.
No one says a word.

I know he's waiting for my explanation but I just can't tell him. I have no words for it, all I can think to do is smile. Smiling is one of my most useful gestures. It helped me get a better table at a restaurant, the phone number of a stranger... and a wall no one can tear down. But not this time. This time my smile is just that: a smile.

Warrick is still staring. Warrick's eyes have some sort of hypnotic power... I never realized before... maybe he never looked at me like this before... maybe I never paid much attention. It's His eyes I see in every man's eyes. If Warrick suddenly decided to start wearing pink contact lenses I wouldn't notice. I hope he doesn't though, he's got beautiful eyes.

"Cath. What's wrong?"

I know I want to tell him. I know he's worried. But I just don't know how.

"Cath"

That's the second call. Second attempt to make contact. A third attempt with no answer would be rude, and also would make it clear that I won't answer. I imagine he knows that too because he stops calling. He holds my hand instead. Affirmation. I may not be answering but he's letting me now he's here with me. And there I go again. No more hysterics now, just tears. I smile and cry at the same time now. And I feel silly. Ashamed. But not alone. His grip on my hand tightens and pulls at me bringing us closer, till he can finally hold me. I hide my face on his neck and I feel so much better knowing the other passengers can't see me cry anymore.

I don't know for how long he holds me, rocking back and forth, whispering soft words, but when I finally let him go, my tears have left a fist sized wet mark on his shirt. And I know his shirt isn't the only thing my tears have soaked. He does deserve an explanation. Anything. "Warrick, I..." - my throat is sore and my words sting as if they were made from pins - " I..." - I can't say anything else.

"It's Grissom, isn't it?"

I have no idea of how I look after all that crying but I'm sure my face is priceless. If he found out... does that mean everybody has? I can't react. I know my mouth is open but I can't remember how to close it.

"Oh, Cath..." and he holds me again. I wrap my arms around his neck and I start to feel better. I know I haven't closed my mouth, and it's still open when we part. That helps my words to come out. "Is it that obvious?"

Warrick smiles, first time in hours, and his eyes smile too. "Oh god, Cath. It wasn't obvious but I guessed it was him or, well " - he doubts a bit - "Horatio".

I'm not sure if I want to laugh or cry. He is so right. only that he doesn't know how right he is. It *was* Him or Horatio. Hope or reality. Waiting or geting. And he doesn't even imagine it. I smile too.

"What will you tell him when we arrive?"

Why is he asking that? Tell him... what should I tell him:" Grissom, Gil, I've been loving you for years but never said a word because you're obviously not in love with me... but I couldn't help making a fool of myself"? - "Nothing". That's my extended answer.

Warrick looks surprised. "Nothing? But you love him, right?"

I have no answer for that. Love him? No, I don't love him. I worship him. Getting up every morning would have a completely different meaning without him in my life. No, loving him isn't enough.

"I love him Warrick. I love him more than my own life. Lindsay and Gil go before me in every choice I make, in every thought I have. They're my whole life". - God, I can't believe what I just said.

Warrick smiles because he knows that's the truth and nothing but the truth. "Then, he should know. You should let him know".

Warrick looks so cute while sleeping... it's amazing the way his whole body relaxed, his face becoming an image of absolute peace. I love him. I love him a lot. He just gave me my life back. He didn't mind hearing me ranting about how much I loved him and why I can't tell him for more than forty five minutes, but he also managed to prove all my theories wrong. He threw ten years of fears and doubts out the window... proof by proof, theory by theory. Only that he doesn't know. All he knows is I feel better and I will "think about it".

Poor Warrick... five minutes after he fell asleep I was running down the corridor again, getting to the plane phone. I never thought deliberately insinuating to Him would be so easy and fun...

And Warrick sleeps so peacefully unaware of my subtle abilities... I made him promise me breakfast at his place, like in old times. Completely unaware of the fact that I won't let him say "see you tonight" and leave. Not this time. I'll meet him at the lab, because I know he'd forget to pick us up, and we'll have the best breakfast of our lives.

It's still an hour to get to Vegas so I decide to make a good use for the little plastic headphones and hook myself to the plane's music hoping I could fall asleep just like Warrick... but knowing I couldn't. Not with the images that are filling my head about what's waiting for me. I blush at the thought that I should get some rest if I want to try all I have in mind with him, and I'm glad no one's looking at me. I've jumped from hysterics to silly grin so fast... I feel stupid. God, I didn't remember how being in love was.

Every song sounds like the last one. I don't really care. I'm not paying attention to what I listen to. I jump from song to song, from a Verdi's opera choir to Sinatra and from that to some strange tune that sounds like a French version of "Nights in white satin". And I'm still smiling. Some nice tune catches my attention and a verse in Spanish brings me out of my semi-catatonic state.

"Poco a poco, me voy acercando a tí..."
(Little by little, I'm getting closer to you)

And I suddenly remember that boyfriend from Puerto Rico I had in high school. I would have never cared much for my Spanish if it hadn't been for him. And Spanish wasn't the only thing he taught me. There's that blush again.

"...Poco a poco, la distancia se va haciendo menos.
Yo no sé si tu vives pensando en mí...
... porque yo sólo pienso en tu amor y en tus besos."
(Little by little, the distance is getting smaller
I don't know if you live thinking about me
Because I only think about your love and your kisses)

I find myself nodding to what that lady sings. She's so right... so many years thinking about him... imagining the touch of his skin on mine, his taste, his smell... his sounds... So many years loving him without knowing he feels the same. I know now. He didn't say a thing but Warrick made me see it. There's no way he can't feel the same. There's no way he hasn't noticed how things have changed between us.

"Qué bonito es querer como quiero yo...
... que bonito entregarse todita completa"
(It's so beautiful to love as I'm loving you,
so beautiful to give yourself completely)

There's no turning back now. I'm all his. I've tried, I was sure it couldn't be, so sure being together was impossible, but now I know there's no other way. This is how it was meant to be. I was made to be his. There's nothing anyone could do about it.

"Yo no sé ni pregunto cómo es tu amor
porque a tí cómo a mi, no nos cabe en el cuerpo"
(I don't know, and I don't ask how your love is
because I know it's like mine, too big for both of us)

And I know he never said it, but he loves me. I know he loves me as much as I love him because I fall for him every time he smiles and looks at me. Every time he trusts in me and in no one else. I know it every time he varies his position so that he can touch me... when he passes by me... it's just a touch on my back, on my hand... just a touch, barely a caress, but he means it.

"No me digas que no sufriste, que no extrañaste todos mis besos.
No me digas que no lloraste algunas noches que estuve lejos"
(Don't tell me you didn't suffer, you didn't miss all my kisses.
Don't tell me you didn't cry every night I was away)

And he calls me. He calls me on my days off just to know how I am doing. We talk about everything and nothing. He's at his office, sitting at his desk and I'm lying on my bed with my eyes closed, making believe he's by my side whispering in my ear, forgetting about the phone. I've been in Miami for two days and he called to discuss every little detail with me. Poor Horatio, I'm almost sorry for him. He could have had me... if I hadn't been so desperately in love, and just a little bit more desperate... I almost conformed with what I didn't want. But now I know I'll get exactly what I want... what I've always wanted. A man who will love me for what I am and a man I can love with no reserves. Oh my God, Catherine, not again! Tears fall down my cheeks again, but I cry in satisfaction now for knowing I wont have to wait any longer.

"Poco a poco me voy acercando a tí...
Poco a poco se me llenan los ojos de llanto,
Que bonito es llorar cuando lloro así,
por tu amor, junto a tí y adorandote tanto"
(Little by little I'm getting closer to you
little by little tears well up in my eyes.
It's beautiful when I cry like this
For your love, close to you and worshiping you so much.)

I cry with joy, knowing I'm coming back to him. Knowing things will be different now. I cry knowing he's waiting for me and he's taking me for breakfast without imagining what will happen between us. Knowing I'll turn his perfectly ordered world up side down... and he'll be thankful I did. A hand caresses my cheek cleaning a tear and I open my eyes to face Warrick. He's smiling. I guess it was evident I wasn't crying in sorrow... a smile from ear to ear is a clear evidence of happiness for a level 3 CSI.

"Everything all right?" That's all he asks.

"It couldn't be any better. Thank you Warrick". And even though he has no idea of what I have planned, he realizes that things have changed for me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. No, things couldn't get any better...

"Poco a poco me voy acercando a tí...
Poco a poco se me llenan los ojos de llanto,
Que bonito es llorar cuando lloro así,
por tu amor, junto a tí y adorandote tanto"
(Little by little I'm getting closer to you
little by little tears weel up in my eyes.
It's beautiful when I cry like this
For your love, close to you and worshiping you so much.)

FIN