Her blue eyes were being contrasted against the computer screen, which was the only significant light source in the room. The glimmering sparkle of her eyes harmonized with her golden ringlets; hints of strawberry seeped through at their roots. Her fingers moved swiftly on the keyboard as her face was gnawed into a look of disgust.

Men were so hard to trust.

It was the same story that replayed in her life—Chris was addicted to sex and she couldn't give him what he wanted. The bastard just couldn't accept the fact that loving someone meant compromising with his or her hours. And the fact that she was a CSI, in law enforcement, didn't help that fact any. She wondered how long it would be before she was "involved" with a man again. Before meeting Chris, it had been nearly seven months since she had any intimate contact with the opposite sex.

And this was the life of Catherine Willows … unfortunately.

But there was an up side to it. This meant that she could spend more time with her almost-ten-year-old daughter, whom she loved deeply. It was quite frightening; realizing how much Lindsey was growing into a model of herself when she was younger. As scary as it was, and as much as Catherine enjoyed it, she was going to do her best to set Lindsey in a straight path.

As a teenager, Catherine had left home and began her career as an exotic dancer. She didn't quite regret it. In fact, she had enjoyed it—at the time. But as her mind drifted into the past and she looked back on her life in the sex-trade, she found that there were much better choices that could've been made.

Catherine detected herself twirling one of her ringlets around her finger, a sign that she had been deep in thought. And she quickly snapped back into the awaiting reality.

Taking a deep breath, she gazed at the screen before her, exiting out of her e-mail account and grumbling as she did so. The message, and news, that she had received from Chris was the first thing that she had deleted. If the man couldn't live with her for more than two months, he was not the kind of guy she would want to spend the rest of her life with. God, for a while, she had even been considering a second marriage. But after this "good news," marriage was the last thing on her mind.

"Catherine, you heading home?"

She quickly looked up, finding the lofty form of Gil Grissom in the doorway.

"Uh … yeah," Catherine stuttered. She immediately closed her Internet connection.

Lab computers were used for strictly research and study—she remembered …

"Good, because you've been hogging a sum of our network connection for God knows how long," Grissom exerted with a smirk. He rested his shoulder against the doorframe, studying her emotions carefully through the semi-darkness.

"Yeah, sorry," she replied casually. Fortunate for her, the computer screen refused to give off enough light for the red, which was creeping onto her cheeks, to be revealed. "I was …"

Busted!

Catherine paused, noticing Grissom's prominent features. The bastard was waiting for her excuse out of disguised mere ignorance.

"Yes?" he asked, his smirk never leaving the curl in his mouth.

"Oh, nothing, Gil. I'm just getting ready to go home." She shut down the computer and heaved a sigh, before brushing past him, and exiting the AV lab. He inhaled her scent as the air breathed around him, taking the place of her presence. Watching her make her way down the hall and turn into the locker room, his smirk was erased, and he slipped into the lab room. Within a few minutes, the computer was booted up and the Internet connection was renewed.

Grissom signed into his e-mail account. `You've got mail,' the speakers blared. He smiled warmly when he saw the newly written message from "PrincessButterfly09."

To Bugman:

Hi, Uncle Gil! How are you? I'm doing great! Can I come over to your house soon and play with your butterfly collection? Maybe I can come over for my birthday. That would be fun! Don't tell Mommy this, but I don't want a party this year. I don't want you to tell her because I overheard her talking to Megan's mom and setting up a surprise party. I think I have to get off now, since it's almost bedtime and Mommy should be coming home soon. I love you!

Love, Your Princess Butterfly

Grissom had to chuckle. Lindsey, for being nearly ten years of age, was quite the girl. He guessed that one day she would want to work as a CSI, just like her mother. And her mother … the girl resembled Catherine more and more, everyday. Fortunately, none of Eddie's features (Catherine's ex-husband) had appeared distinguishing in Lindsey's appearance. That jerk had no right to deserve such a wonderful little girl. Whether it was a good thing or not, Eddie had died from a gunshot wound over a year ago. Erasing the fact that he had hated that man, Grissom sympathized for Catherine, being left alone to take care of her daughter and work the graveyard shift as a CSI.

He sighed and quickly typed up a reply. Although as much as Lindsey wished he would keep her thoughts a secret, her mother more than well deserved to know about this. The nine-year-old was never fond of birthday parties. As for a significant reason why, Grissom wasn't sure.

Suddenly, an ad popped up and his blue eyes scanned it. It was advertising online dating, something that Gil Grissom rolled his eyes and shook his head to. True love wasn't something meant to find in chatrooms—it was meant to be found in the "perfect circumstance" of reality. But there was something else about the ad that caught his attention.

"New—a special occupant service, featuring employment such as: medical fields, law enforcement, teaching areas, and much, much more …" he read aloud, his words a slight mumble in the empty lab. It was the `law enforcement' that had caught his attention most.

Realizing that there wasn't much to lose, just to check it out, Grissom clicked on it, and the link immediately brought him to a website. The layout was specially created to enthrall your attention, which was exactly what it did. This was all proving that curiosity got the best of him as Grissom clicked his original interest: law enforcement dating.

The next page asked for personal information, in order to match a person up with the "perfect man or woman."

Hell, if dating was not a success for him in reality, then maybe this chatroom thing wasn't so bad after all …

Catherine fumbled for her keys and opened up her door. Inside she inhaled the fresh aroma of wildflowers. Glancing over to the kitchen table, her eyes channeled over an assembly of dandelions, bluebells, primroses, lilies, and other various plants and flowers. Her best guess was that Lindsey had picked her this lovely bouquet after coming home from school that afternoon. Catherine almost felt bad that she hadn't really seen her daughter in two days. Overtime was a hassle.

Passing by her office on the way to her bedroom, Catherine noticed that the computer was still on, along with a glass of water sitting on her desk. She smiled, noting the half-written e-mail. Lindsey hadn't been tucked away in bed all night after all …

Catherine crossed the hall and found her daughter snuggled under her covers. At the instinct of a crack of light bristling onto her face, Lindsey popped open her blue eyes and giggled.

"Hi, Mommy!" she said happily, sitting up in bed.

"Hey, baby," Catherine replied. She walked over to her daughter and sat down on her bedside. Lindsey giggled again, pushing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. "What's so funny?" Catherine asked with a bright smile, leaning over to kiss her daughter on the forehead. "Now you wouldn't have happened to be awake after the babysitter left, would you?"

"Kinda …" Lindsey laughed, tilting in to fall into her mother's warm embrace. "All I did was reply to Uncle Gil's e-mail, because I heard the computer beep that I had new mail," she said innocently.

"Uncle Gil sent you e-mail at 3:30 in the morning?" Catherine asked, wide-eyed.

"Yup," Lindsey replied with a grin. And he told me that I shouldn't be up so late."

"Well, Uncle Gil is right … and he shouldn't be up so late either," Catherine explained, pushing Lindsey onto her back and gently pulling the comforter over her. "Now I don't want you sneaking up at night to check your e-mail anymore, okay, baby?"

Lindsey nodded and answered, "Okay, Mommy—I promise!"

"Good, now you sleep fast so you and I can go shopping for your birthday tomorrow."

"You mean just the two of us? And none of my friends?" Lindsey asked.

"Well, if you want them to go …"

"No, I want it to be just you and I tomorrow!"

"Okay, honey, it's a deal." Catherine smiled and blew her daughter a kiss. "Good night."

"Sleep tight," Lindsey echoed.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," they both harmonized. This was something that Uncle Gil had passed onto his little Princess, and from then on, it was a tradition that had to be done. Catherine didn't know whether to thank Grissom or dispute him of this every night custom. Well, it was good for Lindsey and that was all that mattered.

Closing Lindsey's door halfway, Catherine entered into her office and quickly scanned the in complete message that Lindsey had been typing. All she had written was a heading entitled to `Uncle Gil,' causing Catherine to quietly laugh out loud. It almost humored her—the fact her daughter was so close to her own supervisor at work. But Gil wasn't just a supervisor, co-worker, or scientist to her … he was a friend, a very close friend. In fact, he was almost like a brother to her. And hence the term "Uncle Gil."

Catherine, as much as she `hated' the 5'11'' workaholic who lived in his hermetically-sealed condo, admired his traits. Any man who could live with Gil's life-style and not go mad was quite the guy. So much for Chris …

Just as she was about to exit out of Lindsey's account, something caught her eye. A popup ad flashed before her. It advertised a free online dating service. This wasn't something that Catherine found improper, but it was merely something that she had ever put into context in her own mind. Online dating just wasn't her thing.

"Interesting," she murmured, noticing a special occupant's service, featuring law enforcement couples. "Maybe if I could hook up with some husky cop or scientist, then I wouldn't have to worry about him respecting my hours," she thought aloud. With a click of the mouse, she was taken to a capturing website, where she soon found herself filling out information for the "perfect man."

"A cop or scientist, who can respect me and my daughter. He needs to have a muscular build—preferably tall—handsome … boyish handsome, single, and in between the ages of 40-50. God, am I that old?" Catherine asked herself, interrupting her outward thoughts, "within the Las Vegas and Reno area, a beard … I like beards—scruffy beards … either blue or chocolate eyes, glasses … because hell, they make a man look sophisticated … dark hair, with maybe some curls, dark skin, but not too dark … oh, God, I could go on," Catherine sighed aloud, finishing up to type her descriptions of a man and her own descriptions. But it was just as she was readying to push the "submit" button when something hit her.

Am I describing Gil Grissom? Oh my god, I am so not describing Gil Grissom … hell, I am, ain't I? she thought, raising her hand to cover her mouth. It was true, as she reread her descriptions, that nearly every one of them resembled, in some way, the man on her mind.

"This isn't real, Catherine, you're just playing around. Anyway, Gil isn't your type …"

Then why am I describing every damn feature of his? she mentally asked herself.

For a moment, she was hoping that her mind would change and she would screw the whole "ideal man," but there was something lingering inside of her that caused her fingers to hit the "enter" button, and all was recorded into the site's data.

Shit.

The results came up faster than she would've ever imagined, but before she could access any of them, she had to give her alias, instead of her real name, for security reasons.

"An alias?" Catherine asked aloud, closing her eyes in thought. She quickly opened them and began to type out of the name (although she despised it) `Cat.'

Finally able to access the results, there were over twenty names that matched her descriptions. Reading down the list, she found alias' such as: Sexy Cop, All-That, Bob da Bomb, Naked Attorney (this name caused her to flinch with discomfort), The Scientist, Law Hunk, and Federal Sex-Toy.

"Lord help me," she said, setting her head in her hands and shaking her head. She looked back up at the screen and smiled, noticing the name `The Scientist.' Unlike all the others, this name actually had full registration for her matches, and her own descriptions. Quickly clicking on it, she read his ideas of the "perfect woman," and was almost blown away to find that she matched basically every single one of those descriptions … except for the "good sex" part. Unfortunately, she couldn't be the judge of that, but if she had to, in her mind, she wasn't too bad. Eddie had liked her, Chris had liked her … for a while.

There were a few options ahead of her: chat, private IM, e-mail, or more info. She clicked on the "private IM" link, not wanting any other unwanted folk to interrupt her desperate and childish attempt to find love.

`Hey,' she typed, a hint of nervousness flowing into her veins.

`Hi, Cat' The Scientist typed back.

`Where are you from?' Catherine asked.

`Las Vegas area. I don't work too far from the strip. How about you?' The Scientist replied.

`Same here. Well, Scientist, is there anything else that you go by … besides The Scientist?'

`Well, I guess you could call me G … and don't ask.'

`LOL, okay, I won't, G. So what do you do for a living? I work the graveyard shift for the Crime Bureau.'

`Really? That's very interesting. Well, I'm a scientist, as you know, and I do work for part of the Crime Bureau. You wouldn't believe how many divisions there are, though.'

`Yeah, talk about it. Today I just passed some guy that I had never even seen before. LOL!'

`Cat, may I ask what LOL means?' The Scientist typed.

`Oh, I'm sorry. It means to laugh out loud. I usually use it when a statement is funny. But my daughter thinks it means to have lots of loopiness.'

`Well, then LOL. So you have a daughter?' he asked.

`Yeah. She's a good little girl.'

`I work with a single mother who has a little girl. It must be hard to raise her and be in law enforcement, huh?'

`Yeah, sometimes it's really tough. But we get through. May I ask you a question?' Cat asked.

`Shoot.'

`I noticed in your descriptions, you asked for someone who could provide good sex … well, I'm not sure if I qualify for that. I know that my ex-boyfriend said it was good when we got it on, but what does he know? He dumped me, the bastard.'

`I'm sorry to hear that. Well, you know, there's only one way for me to find out how good you are. But judging from your own descriptions, you sound good enough for me. In fact, I don't believe I deserve a woman like you.' G typed.

`Oh, what the hell are you talking about? From your descriptions, you honestly sound like a hunk.' Catherine, realizing that she would probably never meet the man, decided to be as freely spoken as she wished.

`Right. I haven't really had any good luck with dating women, and I'm not really one for these types of things …'

`But you were desperate, right?' she asked.

`Yes.'

`Same story here; don't worry about it.'

`You want to meet up, since we're both in the same area?'

`Uh, yeah, maybe sometime, G.'

`Well, Cat, I was thinking tonight. If that's okay with you, of course,' The Scientist typed. `I'm not doing anything, and I've just been staying after at work so I could chat with someone as gorgeous as you.'

`Oh, G, you haven't even seen me! Stop with that flattery!' Catherine flirted.

`I've seen you—I've seen you with my heart, Cat.'

`You sound so poetic, Scientist. All the more reasons that I would like to meet you. I love a man with a poetic sense to him.'

`Really? Well, I love poetry. I quote it all the time, read it all the time, and actually, no one knows this, but I write it.'

`Now I know it,' she typed, laughing out loud.

`You're the first, too. Well, Cat, where would you like to meet?' The Scientist asked.

`How about a cute and romantic little club down in the strip?'

`And what would this cute and romantic club be called?'

Catherine filled him in on the information and sighed eagerly as they parted with intimate conversations. She closed her Internet connection and quickly said goodbye to Lindsey and explained that she had a quick "errand" to run. Before exiting out of the house, she set her security alarm, for reassurance that Lindsey would be safe.

Catherine pulled her Denali into a parking spot, pulling her keys out of the ignition, and darting into the Midnight Dazzle club. She did her best to avoid the heavy rain beating down on her way in. Once she had settled in at the counter, she ordered a drink. Looking around the club, she ran the descriptions that G had given her, as to what he would be wearing.

"A black and blue shirt, with black slacks …" she mumbled over and over. Her attention was turned to a man with his back to her, standing by the entranceway. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, tapping his foot on the ground in time of the music. She walked over to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and looked at her and smiled.

"Are you G?" she asked.

"Well, some do call me that," he explained. "But I usually go by the name of Greg. Why, do I know you, sweat heart? And if I don't, can we pretend that I do?" he asked with a large smirk that much resembled a friend of hers …

"Um, obviously you aren't the person I'm looking for, Greg. I apologize for the misunderstanding," Catherine said sincerely, a tinge of red forming at the corners of her cheek in embarrassment.

"Oh, come on, baby, you know that you came here looking for me!" he said wryly, licking his lips and reaching down to attempt a kiss. Catherine quickly dodged him, just enough so that his lips brushed her cheek. She squealed and slapped him across the face. In response, he grabbed her arm and pulled him into her.

God, another drunk bastard. Just what I need right now …

"Get your hands off of me!" Catherine hollered, trying to let her voice be known over the blaring music.

"Baby, if you leave me, there will be serious consequences. Now, honey, you know you want to come home with me. We could get our act on, you sexy …" Once again, he tried to kiss her, and she slapped him, this time letting off a louder scream in return for his harsh grip.

"Excuse me, leave this woman alone."

Nearly shocked, Catherine dropped her jaw, just as the drunkard's hand was released from her more personal area. But that wasn't what caused the shock of adrenaline to rush through her—it was the voice. She knew that voice, as if it spoke in her mind everyday.

"Gil?" she whispered under her breath, whipping around to face an all- too familiar face.

"Sorry, dude. You can have the bitch!" the man said, raising his hand when he saw Grissom's badge. He quickly darted out the door and was lost into the raining night.

"Catherine, you really have to get better boyfriends," Grissom murmured, shaking his head and gazing deep into her blue eyes.

"G-Gil?" she again stuttered, traveling her eyes up and down her body, causing him to feel quite uncomfortable.

"I think you've seen me enough to know what I look like, Cath," he said with a smirk, shoving his hands in his pocket, along with his badge.

"But, G-Gil?"

"I think you've had one too many drinks. Maybe I should drive you home," he suggested. "By the way, what are you doing here so late? Isn't Lindsey at home?" he asked casually.

"Well, yeah!" she said in an obvious voice. "What do you think I've been trying to ask you all this time? God, sometimes I think things pass right through your head."

"You here alone?" he asked. It had been years that he had been putting up with her sudden outbursts, if it was even suitable to call them that, so he knew how to deal with them when the time came.

"Well, sort of. I'm waiting for someone …"

"Your new friend, right?

"No, that bastard is long gone, Griss. Why are you so interested, anyway?" Catherine asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, since you ask, I'm meeting someone here too."

"You are?" she asked, emphasizing the `you.'

"That's what I said. She sounds really sexy—she works in law enforcement too," he explained.

"You're kidding me right? Well, unless this is coincidental, so does mine. I met him … well, online, to be exact. I know, it's stupid! You should never trust those dating services, but come on. I just need to do something different, something that I would never do—maybe I'll get lucky that way. I mean for the past four damn years of my life, I haven't had much luck, you know? And …"

"Wait, hold up, Cath. You met yours on a dating service … as well?"

"Yeah, I … oh my god." Her mouth dropped open even farther as she stared into the eyes of Gil Grissom—her long time close friend and co- worker/supervisor. He was also the man that she had been thinking of, typing in every one of his surreal descriptions that got her off every time she thought of him. The perfect man … no, it wasn't possible, it just wasn't. He couldn't be standing right in front of her …

"God, Cath, you don't think …" his words trailed off, in return for the grin that she was seductively giving him.

"Why, Gil, I didn't know that you were the online-dating-type," she said with a large smile, which crept up in the corners of her plump lips.

"I-I …"

"You know, Mr. Scientist, you told me that there was only one way to find out if my past boyfriends and husband were right about this whole `good sex' talk," she began with a flirtatious tone. Grabbing her hand in his, she pulled him out the door and stopped outside, once the rain was splattering on their faces.

"Well, yeah, I did say that, but I didn't mean …"

"I know what you meant, Gil, and there has to be a reason why each of us described each other for the "perfect someone" in their lives."

"Yes, that's very true, Cath, but …"

Catherine leaned up and sealed his words with a long and passionate kiss, pulling back only to relieve both of them of breath support. He ran his fingers along her wet chin and bent down to continue the kiss, both softly groaning as each other's curious tongues parted their lips, each exploring a new sensation.

"Should we sue the dating service?" he asked with a smirk, before their lips crashed once again.

"For what, setting up a single mother and a scientist, both in law enforcement? I think we should," she joked, sighing as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Hey, Cat," he paused to notice the glare she shot him. "Cath," he quickly corrected. "You know that thing we were going to try out?"

"Uh huh."

"You know, it's never too late to do so …"

"Who's driving? Screw the driving, let's pull over to the embankment by the river. I can't wait."

"Well, didn't think you came on that fast!" Grissom laughed out loud, tracing circles on the small of her back as they walked towards her Denali and his Tahoe. He leaned down and began kissing her neck, traveling down her cleavage.

"Hey, Gil?"

"Yeah, Cath."

"You write poetry?"

The End

A/N: *evil smirk* Should I continue this?