Catherine Willows hovered in between the hallway and his office, her body leaning on the doorframe, simply looking at him. A smile played on her lips as she watched the way his gaze was concentrated on the crossword puzzle he was holding. She allowed herself to wonder what it’d be like to have him gaze that intently at her, in bed, their bodies--

“Are you ever coming in, Catherine?”

Startled out of her fantasy, Catherine recovered quickly as the amused blue eyes of Gil Grissom settled on her. She could feel a slight heat on her cheeks and hoped he didn’t notice. She silently walked inside and closed the door behind her, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Gil. She didn’t say anything as she made her way to the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh.

The answer to fifteen across forgotten, Gil sat back in his chair and tried to figure out the puzzle sitting in front of him. He waited for her to speak.

After another sigh, she finally did. “I’m going to be fifty,” she said dejectedly.

Gil frowned slightly, mentally calculating her age. He looked at her in confusion, “In four years, Catherine.”

“Exactly! Four years, Gil. I’m forty--” she stopped, her tongue stuck. She tried again. “I’m forty--”

“Forty-six,” he finished for her, trying not to smile.

She glared at him. “Thanks.”

“It’s not that bad,” he assured her.

“That’s easy for you to say. Men are ‘distinguished’ when they get old, wom--”

“Old?” He raised an eyebrow.

Catherine smiled. “Older,” she amended. “I meant older.”

“Right.”

“But I see your point.” She leaned forward. There was no mistaking the wicked gleam in her eyes. “You’ll always be WAY older than me.”

“Only by five years,” he defended.

This time she grinned outright. “That’s half a -decade-,” she emphasized the last word, sitting back triumphantly.

“Okay, I’m old,” he smiled. “Feel better?”

She nodded, “Much.”

They sat in comfortable silence, both still smiling. The minutes stretched and they both knew she’d have to leave soon. She stood and walked to his desk. “I guess I should go, actually do some work.” She looked pointedly from his still unfinished crossword puzzle to him. “Unlike you.”

He smirked, she smiled. After another beat, she headed for the door.

“Catherine.”

She stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“Just so you know, I think you’re more beautiful now than when I first met you. And you were stunning then.”

Her stomach did a flip.

“If the words of an old fogey mean anything.”

She smiled. “No,” she said, her hand turning the knob and opening the door. “Not anything.” She crossed the doorway and turned back.

“Just everything.”

The end!