Golden locks flew beneath the crime lab's fluorescent lights as Catherine tossed her head to one side, then the other... in an obvious search, determination clouding her eyes. Upon reaching the targeted office, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open... knowing her relationship with the man on the other side was beyond the point of doing the obligatory 'courtesy' knock. "Grissom?" she called, stepping inside.

"Hey, Gris--" She stopped in her tracks at the sight before her.

Grissom jerked his head upward abruptly, a wide-eyed look on his face, as he hastily shoved something in one of the drawers of his desk and slammed it... wincing slightly as he pinched his finger in the drawer. "What? What, what?" was his quick, nervous response.

The strawberry-blonde's thick, glossy lips slowly pursed as her brows began a descent... her forehead wrinkling in confusion as she watched the display before her. "What were you--" She cocked her head slightly, a realization falling over her. She slowly grinned. "Were you just doing something in here that I wouldn't approve of?" she asked coyly.

His head tipped just slightly to the side as he gave her 'the look'... partly amused, partly exasperated. "Hardly," he replied dryly. His eyebrow quirked for a split-second as a smirk toyed with the edges of his lips. "And 'something you don't approve of' doesn't cover much, Cath."

She sighed wistfully, mirroring his smirk as she sauntered over to his desk. "Ahh, how well you know me." She pressed her palms to the cool surface and leaned her weight on her arms, attempting to lean across the desk, as if that would offer her any clue as to what he was hiding. "So what've you got back there?" she asked, her tone overly sweet.

He leveled his eyesight, his bottom lip jutting out just slightly as he visually feasted on the supple flesh practically spilling out of her low-cut white shirt beneath her simple, yet elegant, sky-blue blazer. His eyebrow twitched upward once more as he attempted to form a coherent response... and he slowly, reluctantly, dragged his eyes up to meet the amused look in her azure orbs.

"Nothing for you to be concerned with," he replied softly, offering a small, seemingly innocent smile.

Her mouth dropped just slightly as her eyebrows raised... wanting to comment on his obvious admiration of her 'goodies'... but she thought better of it. Instead, she pushed off the desk with her hands and leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "Keeping secrets again?"

She'd meant it in jest... though the undertone of hurt seeped through. She prayed he wouldn't catch it. And, as usual, it flew right over his head and down the hall. "Of course not," he replied immediately, to which she gave him a look. He sent it right back as he added deeply... seriously, "I promise."

She sighed, resolving to let it go for the time being, and headed for the door. "Fine, okay." Once in the doorway, she spun to face him, the blonde locks fanning out around her once more before framing her angelic face. She attempted a half-smile, her heart aching inside. She knew he was lying. "Doc Robbins is ready for us," she told him softly.

He nodded, mirroring her tone and expression. "Okay."

When she nodded and turned on her heel to leave, he leaned over briefly to watch her go... to watch her slip from his reach as she so often did... then glanced back inside the desk, letting out his relief in a whoosh of air. She couldn't know... not yet. He had to find the right time to tell her.

*****

"Grissom, what in the hell did you do with our case file?" Catherine interrogated, striding quickly down the hall to catch up with him.

He turned over his shoulder briefly to smile affectionately at the irate woman at his side. "Did you check the office, my dear?"

She threw her arms up in the air, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. She mocked his tone. "Noooo..." She then sighed and took off in the other direction while Grissom continued to DNA, smirking and shaking his head as he watched her curves move farther and farther into the distance.

Catherine flung the door shut, not even flinching as it slammed behind her, encasing her in the sterile environment that was Grissom's office. She took one look at his desk and froze, her jaw dropping halfway at the sight before her. Papers were haphazardly scattered all over the surface of his desk... many being parts of different case files. She threw her arms up in the air once more. "Great."

She muttered and babbled to herself under her breath, cursing Grissom for his sloppy behavior all the way while she sorted and stacked the papers. Once she'd finally gathered all the needed papers for her case file, she stacked them together and searched for the correct folder to place them in. "Damn," she muttered. "Knowing Grissom, he probably threw it out." She began opening his desk drawers, searching for the spare manila file folders. She went through five of the six drawers before happening upon the correct one, letting out a triumphant, "Aha!" before snatching a new folder out of the drawer. It was then her eyes caught upon something quite intriguing.

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward slightly to see what it was, keeping her eyes cemented to the object while she blindly placed the papers in her file and set it on the desk. Her hands then moved the extra folders out of the way, uncovering the mystery item. Her brow furrowed as she pulled out a long, black velvet box. "What the--?"

She took a deep breath, knowing fully how wrong it would be to pry into his personal business. Then, his behavior from the day before hit her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Curiosity killed the Cat," she sighed, and opened the box.

It creaked its stiff hinges, and with slight effort it snapped open... twenty sparkles dotting Catherine's vision as her eyebrows ascended to their highest points on her forehead. Inside the beautiful velvet box was an even more beautiful diamond tennis bracelet, made of the finest platinum, and twenty *very* authentic diamonds. "Whoa..." she whispered, in awe of the magnificent accessory. Then, like a bolt of lightning... it hit her. He was seeing someone.

The box snapped shut and the sparkles disappeared as her fist closed around the jewelry box, her vision blurring behind a rush of water. She gingerly placed the box exactly where she found it, and covered it with the folder it had previously been buried under, before slowly sliding the drawer shut, reaching for her folder. He was seeing someone.

She gathered her case file close to her chest, folding her arms across herself... as if this action would ward off the pain consuming her. That was why he didn't want her to see what he was doing, she realized. He didn't want her to know that he was seeing someone. A shaky hand reached for the knob, and she pulled the door open, pausing to wipe away any evidence of her pain. "And the Cat is dead," she whispered, and closed the door behind her.

Her head began to pound as she walked down the halls of the crime lab, any sound or event happening beyond her body going unnoticed as she headed blindly for the locker room. A voice, however... one all-too-familiar and far too painful to endure at this moment... shattered her trance. "So?"

Her head snapped to look at him, and her defenses sprang up, creating an icy forcefield to her hidden emotions. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

He raised his eyebrows at this response, and pursed his lips as he dragged his eyes down to the folder in her hand. "Were you able to find it?"

Her glare penetrated him. "Yes, I found it! No thanks to you!" She slapped the file to his stomach, and he caught it, dumbfounded. "There." She spun on her heel, muttering, "I'm going home."

He continued to stare after her, mouth open and forehead wrinkled in utter confusion. "B-but Cath, we have to--"

"I said I'm GOING HOME, Gil!" She turned ever-so-briefly over her shoulder to yell this at him, before she disappeared around the corner.

*****

She made it home more-or-less in one piece, and immediately headed for her plush leather couch, dropping her keys and purse on the floor before flopping down face-forward. Not a minute after she'd dropped to the couch, her cell phone rang. "Willows," she answered unenthusiastically.

"Cath?"

She rolled her eyes. "What, Gil?"

"Cath, what was all that about? We were supposed to be working on our case file together, and you just stormed off! We were supposed to have dinner together too, remember? What's going on with you?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned with," she chirped back, contempt laced in her tone.

His tone filled with shock. "Catherine..."

"Just let it go, Gil. Go back to your experiments in your sterile little office, and go back to your new little woman, and just forget about me, okay?!" she snapped, and before he could utter a response, she'd hung up.

**

He pursed his lips as he idly considered a possibility... then reached over to thumb through his desk calendar, subsequently shaking his head. No... it wasn't time for *that* yet. He'd learned to pay attention to Catherine's 'bad weeks'... as he called them. To even keep track of them, so he could prepare for the torrent of emotions that would spew from her like a fiery volcano.

But there was no logical explanation for her tirade at the moment, and he shook his head, utterly perplexed as to what could be troubling her... and where exactly she got the idea he was seeing someone. He pulled open his desk drawer to place the case file back inside for safe-keeping... so as not to stir Catherine's ire anymore by misplacing it... and that was when he saw it. He let out his breath forcefully, cursing to himself. She'd seen it.

Grissom quickly grabbed the velvet box and shoved it in the pocket of his windbreaker, sprinting for the Denali. He had to clear things up before she got much angrier. The way she sounded to him over the phone, she was two steps away from taking a machete to his head.

*****

Catherine awoke from her crying-induced slumber to a knock on the door, and she sat up quickly, attempting feverishly to wipe away any evidence of her sleep. "Who is it?" she called, her stomach flipping with the realization that it could be only one person...

"Cath, it's me! Please let me in, please let me explain!"

She rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "Gil, what part of 'let it go' don't you--" she yanked the door open, and the last word of her sentence trailed off. "Understand..."

"All of it," he murmured, holding out a single white lily to her... a picnic basket dangling from his other arm.

She just stared in open-mouthed awe and plucked the lily from his fingertips, delving into the sapphire gems of his eyes. They sparkled their plea at her... which he then vocalized. "Please?"

She just stared, and he smirked. "Come on, Cath, the food's gonna get cold."

Still dumbfounded, she moved to the side, granting him entrance to her home, and he immediately rushed over to the coffee table, setting the picnic basket down. She smiled. Whatever woman he was head-over-heels for was definitely lucky to have him. A pang of jealousy seared her heart. "Gil, you don't have to explain anything to me," she told him. "You're a grown man, you're free to date whoever--"

He took three quick strides over to her and grasped her shoulders, shaking her slightly as he stared deeply into her eyes, getting his point across. "I'm not seeing anybody, Catherine," he told her strongly, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Despite whatever you may or may not have seen that would indicate otherwise."

"Gil..."

He placed a finger to her lips. "Would you please let me explain what all this is about?" A smirk then slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. "And, perhaps, lecture you on snooping through someone else's private property?"

She melted into a smile. She wanted more than anything to stay mad at him. That was all she wanted when they fought... but over the years she'd come to learn that such a feat was simply impossible. "Fine."

He nodded, then gestured to the couch. "Take a seat."

She arched an eyebrow. "You are aware that this is *my* house? I give the orders around here."

He shrugged, smiling impishly. "Well, either sit down or I'm leaving and taking my chicken piccata a la Gil with me."

She immediately complied, sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa. He smiled at this, then moved to sit beside her. "Now... I don't want to jump to conclusions here, Catherine," he began, his hand disappearing into the pocket of his windbreaker, "But I believe you may have seen something in my office that might have led you to believe I was seeing somebody?"

She smiled ruefully, her thick lips curling... and she nodded.

He nodded in response, then glanced down to his pocket while Catherine followed his gaze, eyes widening slightly when she watched him pull out the long, black velvet box. He handed it over to her, his royal blue eyes twinkling as he smiled at her. "Was this what you saw?"

She opened it slowly, smiling as twenty sparkles entered her line of vision once again, and she nodded... unable to tear her eyes off its exquisite beauty. When a moment had passed without a response from Gil, she moved to face him... freezing when she felt his lips caress her cheek, his nose gently nuzzling. "Happy anniversary," he whispered.

A wonderful shiver crawled down her spine, both at the surprising words and his breath tickling her ear... and she snapped her head to face him. "What?" she whispered.

He smiled, taking the box from her only to remove the bracelet... then set the box aside as he held the bracelet up, draping it across the backs of his fingers. "I bought this bracelet to commemorate an anniversary," he murmured. "You see, twenty years ago I met this incredible woman... who completely altered everything I'd ever known about life, and friendship... and love."

Catherine's heart fluttered into her throat, and she pressed her fingers to her lips... her eyes growing misty as he continued, as if speaking a well thought-out monologue.

"And for twenty years I've felt a connection with this woman that I've never felt with any other... and I've loved her more deeply than I ever thought I was capable of loving someone." He grasped Catherine's hand, turning it palm-up as he slipped the platinum bracelet around her wrist. "She knew me from the first moment she met my eyes... and she's been slowly breaking down every brick I'd laid in the wall I used to shelter myself from the world."

He snapped the bracelet into place and looked up to finally meet her eyes, his own clouded with liquid vulnerability. "Knowing her has made me want to be a better person... has made me want to open up, to share my life with another human being. But, the more I considered this notion, I realized that I didn't want to share my life with anyone but her. She's my reason for waking each day and facing this horrible world... and she's my reason for going to sleep at night and wanting to do it all again."

He shrugged, his gaze falling to their intertwined hands as a lone tear slipped down his cheek. "And, I guess this bracelet is my own repressed way of trying to tell her that I love her... in every way imaginable... to the strongest degree that you *can* love a person." His fingertips traced the bracelet. "And each diamond is one unforgettable year that I've had this woman by my side, caring for me and loving me like no one else cared to."

Tears were now freely falling down Catherine's cheeks, forming wavy rivulets on her angelic face. She choked back a sob. "Gil..."

His shyness returned as he continued to just stare at their hands, squeezing hers gently as he cocked his head slightly. "And now, I... I'm wondering if she feels the same. If she feels a fraction of what I feel."

Her hands enfolded his face, drawing his watery gaze back up to hers. Her eyes shone with admiration, friendship, and the deepest love. She nodded. "Yes, she does," she whispered shakily, scooting closer to him. "She definitely does. EVERY fraction of what you feel. Every ounce." Her fingertips roamed to the salt-and-pepper hair curling at his temples, winding through affectionately as she dove into the serenity of his eyes. "I love you..."

He broke into the warmest smile she'd ever seen on his face, and he pulled her close, his hands around her waist while hers draped around his shoulders. "I love you too," he whispered back, and sealed his declaration with a kiss.

She immediately reached up and pulled his face closer to hers, choking back a sob at the whole emotional rollercoaster... over worrying that he was seeing someone... the shock of finding out he wasn't... then the extreme elation at knowing she'd held his heart the entire time.

When their passionate kiss ended, their foreheads met as they tried to catch their breath... and when they opened their eyes to peek at one another, Catherine smirked and smacked his shoulder. "And here you had me stomping around believing you had a girlfriend!"

"Never," he laughed, pressing another kiss to her lips. He rubbed the small of her back in small circular gestures while he stared into her eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it." He smiled affectionately. "You're the only one I dream of, Cath."

She returned his intense gaze, her own hands occupied with the curls at the nape of his neck. "You don't have to dream anymore," she whispered.

With that, she grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet, smiling at him over her shoulder as she led him upstairs. His eyes grew wide at the implication. "Are you serious?" he asked nervously, still allowing her to pull him upstairs while he glanced back at the picnic basket. "Wh-what about the food?"

"Oh, right." She spun on the stairs to face him, one step above him but just at eye level, and she cringed. "Did it take a really long time to make?"

He waved dismissively. "No, not really. It only took the chef at Bertucci's about twenty minutes to make it."

Her jaw dropped at the confession of his fib, and she wagged her finger at him...her tone dropping to a husky timbre. "Naughty boy," she scolded.

"Yeah? So?" he shot back, a wicked gleam in his eye. "What are you gonna do about it?"

She rolled her eyes and continued leading him to her bedroom. "I know what game you're playing, Gil."

"Is it working?"

She paused in front of her door and turned once more to face him, pressing her body to his as she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, bringing him down to her level. "You don't have to play games with me," she breathed, and licked a path from the cleft in his chin to his upper lip, pulling away when she was through.

He moaned, grasping her hips as she fumbled behind herself for the doorknob, twisting it and backing inside... pulling him with her. "Remind me to hide jewelry from you more often," he muttered, and the door slammed shut behind them.