Catherine opened Grissom's office door, pleased that she had finally been able to pin him down.

"SHUT THE DOOR."

When her heart came down from the ceiling, she shut the door behind her and stared at the scene in front of her.

Gil Grissom, CSI extraordinaire, was stood on top of his desk with a butterfly net in his hands.

"Gil, what are you doing?" She asked, hands on her hips. The crawling feeling up her spine told her that she wasn't going to like it.

"I'm catching a moth," he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"A moth?" Catherine hated moths. She hated the way they looked, the way they fluttered, and she swore they always aimed straight at her when they were in the same room. They were out to get her. They always had been. She edged slightly towards the door, hoping she could slip out without him noticing.

"Don't go anywhere. He could get out so quickly, and then everything would be ruined." He glanced around the top shelves of the nearest set. Catherine backed herself into the furthest corner away, suspiciously watching where Gil was looking.

"Grissom, you know how much I hate moths. They should all be extinct." He threw a pained look in her direction but she waved him off. "What's so special about this one?"

"This one's a Grissom Moth." He actually smiled when he said it. It had been one of his proudest moments when he'd discovered the new species and it had been named after him. Catherine had been pleased for him, but completely unable to understand his elation. "I've got this one for Lindsey's science project at school, but Homer knocked the lid off his box.

Catherine smiled. Gil had almost begun to regret letting Lindsey name his new tarantula. She also smiled at the fact that he had willingly agreed to help Lindsey with her project. He had been around at the house the last few days helping Lindsey to plan it all. He was almost as excited about it as her daughter was.

"There it is," he exclaimed, lunging forward with the net. Catherine squealed and pulled herself down into a ball on the floor, hoping it wouldn't know who she was and fly the other way. "Darn." She heard him muttering to himself and jump down from the desk. When she dared open her eyes again, Gil was making his way behind the shelves.

"Catherine, can you bring me the stool?" His voice was quiet.

"Get it yourself."

"Cath, if I can catch it now, then you'll be safe quicker."

She stood apprehensively, listening to him softly chuckling, and picked up the small step stool he used to reach his top shelves. She edged her way around the shelves, holding the stool out at arms length.

Just as she reached him, she saw Gil swiping the net in front of him before turning to chase the moth, and he ran straight into Catherine and the stool. The force of the blow knocked her straight off her feet, and she landed on her back, Gil landing almost completely on top of her. The stool clattered up against the door. For a few moments they froze, waiting to see if anyone decided to investigate the noise. When it became apparent that no one seemed to be interested, the two of them realised in unison exactly where they were.

Catherine could only smile at the uncomfortable look on Grissom's face. It was a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and what Catherine could only seem to identify as lust. Suddenly, being on the floor underneath him was beginning to be both claustrophobic and incredibly exciting. Neither of them made any attempt to move, each attracted by the expressions of the other, by their close proximity and highly compromising position.

She couldn't help herself when she let her hand drift up to brush against his cheek. He couldn't help himself when he shut his eyes and nuzzled into her hand. Neither of them could help themselves when their faces began to get closer to the other.

That was until Gil felt Catherine stiffen beneath him. He opened his eyes to question her, when he saw her eyes fixed with fear at a point behind his head. He lifted himself from her gently and turned to see what he thought she was looking at. The Grissom Moth, the catalyst in their current situation, was sitting on the edge of a shelf right behind them. Trying not to breathe, Gil reached across Catherine for the butterfly net, slowly stood, and made his way towards the moth.

"Gil," Catherine pleaded from her position on the floor, too scared to move. He waved a hand at her behind his back, his gaze fixed on his target. In a blur, he swung the net forward and grabbed the top of the net together. He turned to Catherine, a triumphant smile on his face, and waved the net at her. Catherine tried to dig a hole into the floor. She wouldn't have been at all surprised if the damn things could eat their way through netting within minutes.

Gil's smile turned into a grin, and he carefully placed the moth back inside its cage and secured the lid by putting a paperweight on it. No way the spider was knocking it off again. He watched it flutter around inside before settling down, watching the outside world.

"Well, aren't you my hero."

He turned to see Catherine back on her feet and taking the few steps necessary to close the gap between them.

"I aim to please," he replied. All the doubts in his mind about their encounter on the floor completely dashed. "Next time, maybe you'll jump into my arms."

"Don't push your luck, hot shot." She grinned mischievously, stood on tiptoes in front of him and kissed him. He held her in his arms, kissing her hungrily and desperately.

"If this is what the result is," he said breathily, "Then maybe I should let the moth out again." He was rewarded with a slap to his midriff.

"Don't even think about it, mister." She leant forward and kissed him again. They were watched by a moth and a spider who were sat on the shelf behind them, wondering just what all the fuss had been about.

The End.