She landed on her knees, the shock of the impact sending waves of pain rippling up her thighs and into her hips, lips pressed together in a thin, white line as she made every attempt to make the shock invisible to her partner. His landing was more improved, the balls of his feet absorbing the bulk of his muscle and sinew, blue eyes searching her face far too intently from behind a deplorable green mask. He'd wanted that mask. But looking at it only made her knees hurt more.

"You'd think I could land better." She hissed at the pain as she rose, glancing down at the tears the impact had made in the thin, black latex of her leggings. "Lady Heather assured me that this fabric was up to severe beatings."

"I doubt that Lady Heather has been doing many rooftop calisthenics."

"You never know, in her line of work."

"Oh trust me, she's nothing in comparison to this."

"Really?" she raised an unseen eyebrow, which was hidden underneath a more feminine black mask. "And how might you know that? First hand experience? Working that superhero mojo of yours?"

He was sure if she could see his face, it'd be beat red. "Uh... can we get back to work, or are you going to keep stalling? The tarantulas await us."

"The tarantulas...excuse me? I thought we were going after the Espresso Emporium."

She swept her cape over one shoulder, stepping up to the edge of the roof to glance downward. Vegas night was much like Vegas day, making it easy to watch over the bustling town, and to see everything more than clearly. "Let me guess...you're getting in a new pet, aren't you? Protecting your interests?"

"Just like you're protecting your tall mocha cappuccino, partner."

"Yes, well, if I'm expected to run around Vegas in an outfit like this all night...I deserve that tall mocha cappuccino."

"Well, they always say that the clothes make the man...but in this case, Catherine, the clothes were made by you, and since the clothes you wear tend to reflect your personality..."

"Shut up."

"You started it."

"No you and your creepy crawly friends started it."

"Don't bring them into this. What did they ever do to you?" he retorted, folding his gloved hands across his chest.

"They existed, honey," she purred, a smile spreading across her face.

"So do I." He responded dryly, moving away to stand on the opposite side of the roof, wrapping his arm around a too-large, too-gaudy sign advertising 'Chesters Big-Chested Chicken', a nightclub show in a downtown Vegas club. Catherine was familiar with the show- far more than she wanted to be- and grimaced at the sight of the advertisement.

"Do you have some pressing need to be rescued by a forty-something former dancer in tight black latex, dear? If you do...then let Sara Sidle throw herself at you, and I'll see what I can do."

"I shudder at the thought. Though, I do get a little turned on when I see you dash into the fray, so to speak."

"Well we're still not dashing in there to save your hairy friends. No, matter what you say. At least, not before we hit the Espresso Emporium. This super woman needs her Mocha. Maybe not after, either. I'm not sure even a caffeine jolt could get me in that pet shop."

"Would something stronger than caffeine do the trick?" He reached for his belt, her own weapon striking out to smack his hand away within seconds of the movement.

"Don't you dare- you've had enough fun with that thing already. If you even think about trying it again..."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He smiled, tucking the well-worn weapon of choice out of sight beneath his utility belt once again. "If you keep your pole to yourself, I'll keep my 'pistol in my pocket'."

"You do that." But no sooner had she spoken than she was moving away from the edge of the roof, eyes narrowing slightly as she tipped her right ear toward the street. "You know, your furry friends may just have to wait."

"Something going on?"

"Something bigger than your special equipment, that's for sure." She said, wriggling her eyebrow with a glance at his utility belt, which he hastily covered with his cape. "And hopefully less threatening to society. But we'd better find out."

The two figures leaped gracefully off the building and on to the next one, towards the sounds of distress that had become apparent with each forward movement.

"I think it's a female," she called, mid-leap.

"Not another hooker in distress," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Below the streets filled with people as the passers by gazed in amazement, wondering what new situation could possibly have arisen.

"Look, over head!"

"It's super Grissmo, and the Willowy Wonder!"

The so-dubbed 'Willowy Wonder' rolled her eyes, tossing her silver pole into the street, the already lengthy piece of equipment doubling in size to allow them easy access to the melee below.

"How is it that I got pegged with that name?"

"And I suppose you'd rather have 'Grissmo'?" Her compatriot slipped onto the pole behind her, his decent increased by the slick material of his gloves and the peculiar substance, which lubricated the pole. "What's-"

"Sweat." She called upward, honey-blond hair fluttering up to tickle his latex-laden ankles. "I use this to keep in shape- it's not my fault we get called into action before I have a chance to clean it off."

"One these days we're going to break our necks using this thing."

"You can take it, I'm sure; after all of those rooftop calisthenics. This kind of thing should be right up your avenue." Catherine winked at him, and landed safely on her feet. Putting her hands on her hips, Catherine's laughter rang out as moments later, Grissom's feet buckled upon impact, causing him to land solidly on his ass.

"What did I tell you?" he mumbled, getting up and dusting off himself off.

"Who's the graceful one between the two of us now?" Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried to stifle her laughter, but with no avail.

His responding glare was short lived, as the crowd converged upon them, hands tugging at their ornate costumes in panic and dismay.

"What's going on?" Catherine began to resize the pole, hands wrapped securely around the dangerous item, as she and Grissmo were pressed closer together. "Gris?"

"Yes?"

"Is that your Grissmo- or are you just excited about this emergency?" Her comment wasn't missed by several onlookers, and the crowd parted for the slender figure as she began to move toward the source of the general problem- a seemingly massive tree, sprouting between cracks in the asphalt, a lone hooded figure crouched among the branches. "What seems to be the problem here?"

"You haven't figured that out yet? And you call yourself the 'Willowy Wonder'. I wonder how long it took you to think up that name." The figure lifted her head, hood falling back over waves of silken brown, which caressed fair features and framed glistening amber eyes. "I'm Stupid-Tree Sidle- and I'm here to rock your world."

"And you think my name is bad. Jeesh. And could that outfit be more cliché?" Catherine eyed the woman in front of her, clearly unimpressed. Turning back to her latex clad partner, as he unsheathed his spidey sword, Catherine asked him lightly, "so, how do you want to wack this weed, Grissmo?"

Running two fingers down the length of his sword, a smirk emerged on Grissom's features. "Sharp as a diamond, Willowy Wonder. Eight settings...including hurt, maim, kill, and torture. Comes complete with poison webbing, and sticky spiders for tying up opponents in, er, tough places..."

"Men and their toys," she huffed. "Why do you always get all the cool gadgets?"

"Because you got the better mode of transportation," He replied, taking a stance beside her. "And you look better in latex."

"All right, then." She murmured, balancing her pole precariously in both hands, eyes resting on the figure before them. "Well, Grissmo- looks like we've got a BNS."

"BNS?" For all the good his multiple years in school had done- the great and powerful Grissmo became stumped at the term, blue eyes clouding over in confusion.

"Bitch...needs...slappin." And without hesitation, the Willowy Wonder leapt forward, dancing pole thrust outward in a strike against the tree trunk, impact jolting her onto her own rear as the piece of flora shook mightily against the blow, sending the figure within it tumbling down to the rough city streets. "Well- looks like this one fell out of the stupid tree, partner."

Stupid-Tree Sidle rose from the ground, her eyes filled with red-hot anger. "How dare you defile me and my tree like this? You're gonna pay, bitch!"

Out of nowhere, a potted plant shimmered into her hands, and she hurled it in the direction of the two superheroes. It landed just in front of Willowy Wonder, and as it hit the ground, exploded, sending her careening into the wall of the dark alley.

Grissmo had little time to react, however, as a similar plant was hurtled in his direction, making contact only with his right arm as he swung away and rolled behind a nearby dumpster.

"Don't you think we can settle this!?" He glanced sideways, seeing his partner lift herself up on one elbow in the clouds of soil and dust. Her eyes were clenched shut against the offending particles, but she had begun to crawl, blindly, toward the sound of his voice.

"She attacked me...of course we can't settle this." Sidle had begun to whine, the force of the sound only serving to increase the rising of dust from her projectile plants. "The great Grissmo and his willowy sidekick- falling before me, Stupid-Tree Sidle! At last..."

"Listen, wench- I don't fall before anyone!" As the whining had commenced, Catherine had accelerated her crawl- in the wrong direction, leaping out of the clouds of dust to connect one slender, black leather boot with Sidle's bared, whine-infested throat, sending the villain careening toward a storefront.

Catherine wiped her eyes clear of the dust, as it ceased momentarily. "Grissmo? Gil?" Her vision still swimming; she searched blindly for her partner, fumbling along the tree-root riddled sidewalk.

"Over here!"

"I can't see you, where are you?" Panic was growing in her stomach, as she crawled along, her right hand thrust out in front of her, making sure she didn't run into anything that could harm her.

"Follow my voice... yea that's it. This way." He urged her onward, and soon she was at his side, panting heavily at the effort. Finding his hand, Catherine clenched it tightly; her lack of sight left her vulnerable, and she was unwilling to lose him once again. Grissom winced at the contact, his arm a bloody mess.

"You all right?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Cath....We really don't have time for pleasantries here." He replied, noticing Sidle raise herself off the ground once again.

"Oh so that's how it is?" Cath retorted, lightening her tone. "Ya know, if I wasn't blind as a bat... I'd have you right here."

"Cath! This really isn't a good time for this." He tried again, whispering through clenched teeth.

"She's right behind me, isn't she?"

"Hope you like it from the back, Will." Before Catherine could react, Grissom shoved her aside, the blind partner careening to a stop near the protection of several garbage cans, leaving her counterpart to take the blow. The sharp thwack to his skull sent Grissom to his knees, the impact jarring his entire body with pain. She'd struck him with a stray branch, the knobby end sticky and damp, and as Grissom touched the back of his skull with his hand, he knew why. "Was that good for you?"

"Not as good as it will be for you." He muttered, tucking into a neat roll to bring himself before her.

"Oh I'm sure of that," she cackled, "It's only a matter of time Grissmo, until you fall under my spell."

"I've already fallen under someone's spell, Sidle." Grissom glanced over to his sidekick, who was on her feet again. "Will's you okay?"

"I'm fine. Really pissed off, but fine." Her face contorted, the anger evident in the clench of her jaw, smooth skin tightening fiercely around her lips. "But I think it's time, Gris."

"You're not talking about..."

"I've had it with this bitch- she's going down." Catherine's hand began to search eagerly through her own utility belt, purple leather concealing half a dozen pouches, rife with weaponry she'd chosen not to use, for it's intense power...but the fray with Sidle had given her ample encouragement, and without hesitation, her nimble fingers withdrew the ultimate weapon.

"She's been asking for it, Cath- but you can't..."

"Of course I can, damnit. But I can't see...you're...going to have to throw it." She forced the circular object into Grissmo's strong fingers, her thumb gently rubbing the side of his hand with encouragement. "You can do it- remember, Graveshift beat Days in softball...and you were our pitcher."

Grissom wrapped his hand around the object, and prepared to hurl it at the enemy across from them. Seconds went by, and it felt like an eternity.

"I'll distract her, you throw," Catherine told him harshly, before moving away from his side.

"And how exactly are you going to do that! You don't even know where she is?!"

"I'll think of something; stop being such a pessimist!"

"GAHHH, Grissmo you're mine. You think that wimp of a side kick can compare to me!?" Sidle shrieked with anger, shaking the ground as she stomped about.

"I may not be perfect, but I'm gold compared to you, Stupid Sidle." Catherine got up behind the younger woman and grabbed hold of her, rendering her helpless to Grissom's attack. "Grissmo! Throw it! Now!"

He threw, with all the might and determination he would have thrust into a night of passion, arm coming back in a perfect arc before sending the globe hurtling toward the heinous target. Sidle began to shriek, an inhuman sound which caused the distracting Catherine to pause in her tracks, hands coming up to cover her ears...as the weapon struck her temple, ricocheting to strike Sidle between the eyes. As the spit flew, released from its confinement within the grenade, Grissmo watched in shock as his companion folded to the earth, in a pile of liquid latex and honey-blond hair.

"Damn you, Willowy Wonder! Grissmo- I'll be back!" Sidle had begun to shake her hands in threat, nose ballooning to roughly the size of a small watermelon, but her voice fell as she realized that, undoubtedly, she had begun to change form.

Into a nice, juicy, porterhouse steak.

"Eeeew.... I'm turning into desecrated animal!" She began to writhe in agony, as Grissom threw himself to Catherine's side, cradling her head in his lap.

She saw the light first, remembering cartoons where they told you repeatedly, 'never go into the light', and admitted to herself that she wasn't entirely sure what to do.

But in the cartoons, they never said what to do if the light spoke like Gil Grissom.

"Cath? Catherine?"

His worried voice assaulted her ears, and as the light faded, she shook her head in attempt to clear the fog that seemed to have settled in it. Within a matter of a few seconds, her vision cleared and her gaze met a set of distressed blue eyes looking at her from above.

"You saved me," she murmured squirming in his arms a bit.

"You hit your head...what do you mean, 'I saved you'?" His brow furrowed with the combination of confusion and worry, fingers gently probing the top of her skull. "That must have hit you harder that I thought- you might have a concussion."

"What must have hit me? You threw that grenade- Sidle didn't even get in a strike." Catherine pulled herself into a sitting position, reaching up to probe the injury with her own fingers, the lump beneath her hair causing her to hiss softly. "Ouch."

"I'm sorry, Cath- my tarantula tank fell from the shelf when you ran into it..." At her sharp glance, he nodded. "I know, you told me to move it ages ago."

She nodded, the action causing her to hiss further as she began a slow crawl toward the leather couch by the wall, heaving her strangely sore body upon it.

"I had the strangest dream...how long was I out?"

"Twenty minutes. I've been waiting for Greg to bring a cold washcloth."

"And you haven't left my side in twenty minutes?"

"No..." But she was looking past him, at the pair of brown eyes, which peered through the crack in the doorway as booted feet scurried past, brown hair whispering in the wind.

"Stupid Tree Sidle!"

Finding a spot on the edge of the couch next to Catherine, Grissom sat down; his brow furled out of curiosity. "Catherine? Are you sure that you're okay? Maybe we should go get your head checked out, at the hospital. I mean...you were out for a long time. That can't be good."

"Right now, all I could use is some Advil. This headache is killer." She replied, sitting up suddenly. That proved to be a mistake, as once the action was finished; Catherine felt a wave of nausea pass over her. "God, I think I'm going to be sick."

"That's it. Catherine, I'm taking you to the hospital." He was up before she could protest, lifting her in his arms and cradling her like a damaged doll, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling upward in defeat.

"You know, for a superhero, you're pretty suave." He said nothing to that, pushing through the doorway with his charge balanced within his grasp, turning toward the parking lot and the waiting Tahoe.

As his feet hit the asphalt, the sound of approaching steps tore Catherine's gaze away from his eyes, her own coming up to catch sight of the individual intercepting them on their way to the distant vehicles.

"Grissom- do you want me to get a start on those prints?" It was Stupid Tree Sidle once again, arrogant smile, eyes the color of dung glancing down upon the defenseless Catherine with nothing less than the malicious intent to do away with her. It was obvious, and Catherine began to struggle in Grissom's grasp, determined to gain her own footing in the situation.

"Griss, let me go...now!" she growled leaping out of his arms and towards Sidle. The force of the impact sent both females sprawling to the hallway floor, Catherine reaching to take hold of Sidles' neck.

"Cath! What are you doing?" Kneeling down, he pulled the fiery blonde away, sweeping her back into his arms with one quick motion.

"Damn, she packs a wallop." The brown-haired woman rose, rubbing the spot on her neck where Catherine's hands had been.

"Sorry Sara, she's been a little off... since she woke up. I'm taking her to get checked out, right now.

"I'd like to get her checked out, Grissmo! Now let...me...go!" Catherine had become increasingly agitated, Grissom clenching her wrist with strong fingers. "Get me my pole!"

At that, Sara suppressed a chuckle, Grissom's face clearly reading that this was not at all the time to begin making fun of his partner's condition, as he began to steer her once again toward the parking lot. "Catherine- now."

"Gris- what are you doing? Any hero worth his salt knows that Stupid Tree Sidle is bad news...and if you'd let me close enough to spit on her, you'd see that!"

"Spit?" Grissom asked, humoring her.

"Yes, Spit! Do you need me to show you how it's done?"

Sara's expression turned from one of joy, to one of horror upon hearing what Catherine was trying to do. "Gris, I'll just get a head start on those prints anyway. Can't hurt to stay ahead, right?" She backed away nervously, hoping she could make a fast exit before Catherine was able to wiggle out of Grissom's grasp once again.

This time, Catherine allowed her nemesis the chance to escape, perhaps realizing at that time that her own chances of escaping from the arms of her partner were slim to none. He held her, iron clad grip making it impossible for her to desire anything more than to remain after a while, and she looked up at him with a smile, once Sara had made her escape.

"Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is?" She questioned, as he quickly approached his Tahoe and placed her upon the ground.

"What, exactly?" Grissom's struggle to remain dignified was evident, his embarrassment clear in the sudden reddening of his cheeks. "Catherine- if I'd let you walk the distance..."

"The fact that you're standing here, breaking our code of ethics..." Catherine's hands were planted firmly on her hips, fingers curling around the waistline of her pants as she contemplated him. "You remember. We clearly stated that if one of us were out of control, planning on using our powers for our own personal gain- the other was to use their weapon to subdue this out-of-control person until they were able to be properly cared for."

"Am I hearing things, or are you seducing me, Catherine Willows?"

Seeing her waiver slightly on her feet, Grissom took Cath's hand, and helped her into the Tahoe. She grinned back in appreciation, and leaned her head against the headrest, hoping the stillness would calm the raging headache that had set in.

"That's rule number two, Gil Grissom. No seducing your partner in crime-stopping." She smiled, leaning forward to shrug away his hands as he began to pull her seat belt over her. "But that's only if the Willowy Wonder had it in her head to seduce the great and powerful Grissmo. However...were it the case that Catherine Willows felt the need to seduce Gil Grissom...well, we never once made a rule regarding that."

And she kissed him, her hands on his shoulders, well-manicured nails digging into the soft leather of his jacket, leaving five-hundred dollars of cow hide riddled with tiny cresent moons. He released the seat belt, which was still grasped within his hand, faintly hearing the snap as the fabric belt retracted, Catherine's body falling forward and into his arms again, lips firmly attached to his own.

"You really do have a concussion, Cath," he replied as they broke apart. "Not that I mind in the least."

"Well it's only fair that you enjoy this as much as I do, then," Catherine responded; as he felt something heavy strike the back of his skull....

The End.