He doesn't look any older to me, he really doesn't. I mean, I've been checking his appearance tonight. Okay, I've been checking him out tonight, so what's new? He looks the same, as wonderful as he always has. Should I explain that it's Gil Grissoms' birthday today? Well it is. My Mr Grissom is a year older today.

We haven't spoken about it, his birthday I mean. Actually we haven't spoken about much in the last few weeks. Or months. Or for as long as I can remember... I might be being a little over dramatic with that statement, but maybe not so much... We seem to have drifted away from each other recently, and I want so much to find my way back to him. Again, maybe that's being over dramatic, but I do want him back. You see, that was a lie too, there were too many words in that sentence:I want him.

I should say that again, when it's safe to do it. I want him.

I don't say that very often, it hurts to admit it and for it then to never come true. But today isn't about what I want, it's about what I should get for my friends birthday. I want to buy him the perfect gift, and I know I've left it a little late, but it's a big decision. I have been thinking about it for weeks, wondering what would make him smile. Maybe that's all I need to do for his birthday, make him smile. But as I think I might have mentioned, I seem to have forgotten how to do that. Or I'm still using all my big guns, but Gil has become immune to my charms. Which makes me a little sad, I have to tell you. But there it is. Gil is immune to my charms, such as they are.

What should I get Gil for his birthday? Seriously, what should I get him? I want the perfect gift to communicate to him that I want to be his friend again. I wonder what that is? Socks? Whiskey? A book? My heart?

Ignore the last one, that was me dreaming out loud again, he probably wouldn't like it anyway. No, I know he wouldn't like it. So I should probably go with socks. I'm not cheap, I'd get him nice ones. It's the thought, right?

Well, the problem with that whole thought process is my own stupid heart. It wants him, along with the rest of me, it wants him. Wouldn't that be the worst birthday present I could ever give him, my declaration of dependence? Poor man, he doesn't deserve a burden like me, but what does he deserve?

Now that is the question which has kept my mind off my work all night, what does Grissom deserve? The best? Obviously a given, but we are running out of time here. What is slightly further down the list than the best?

Me?

Okay, have to stop with that. I swear, I'm not trying to offer myself as a prize, I just can't seem to stop it. I only get like this around his birthday, and around mine for that matter. I think about what life could be like if I could just gather my nerve and tell him. Or touch him, shortly followed by kissing him.

This will stop soon, really, it will. I just have to wait for the day to be over and I'll be able to control myself again. I'm good at it, really good. You would know that if you could see me all the time, I'm not so out of control on a normal day of the year. If I was like this every day I wouldn't have let us become so estranged, or whatever it is we are right now.

It's just that on birthdays I take a look at who we are, and think about what we could be. I look at him mostly, and swoon a little. I think I can swoon in silence most of the time, not that you necessarily have to make a lot of noise to swoon... But I can generally do my swooning in silence, with little evidence of the fact to the outside world. I think there may have been swooning earlier, or maybe I've just been watching my Pride and Prejudice DVD too much these days. You know the one I mean? I imagine Gil as my Mr Darcy, wearing tight britches as he steps out of a lake.

Okay, I know there aren't too many lakes round here, and that Gil doesn't tend to wear britches? But in my imagination...

Well it's my birthday present to myself, and my greatest flaw - and goodness knows there are enough of them to go around. So I spent a couple of hours thinking about Gil last night, thinking about how wonderful he looked as he stalked around the lab. It was his arms that did it for me, he has very masculine arms. Does that make sense? I mean,he's a guy, it's a given that the arms are masculine... But he has these amazingly powerful arms, and they make me feel like I could be his Elizabeth Bennett. Okay, that's enough. I need to stop watching that stupid DVD, it seems to be taking over my good sense. And taking over what I'm supposed to be thinking about, Gil and the present which will get me my friend back.

I've lost days to this project, complete days. The worst was yesterday, the last day I had to find Gil a present. I went and got drunk, there was no present gathering. There was simply a lot of beer and me feeling sorry for myself, and I don't usually drink that much beer - feeling sorry for myself is another story. So I find myself here, outside his office, waiting for him to admit the day is over. Or I'm waiting for him to think I'm already gone. But you can only wait for so long, right?

"Grissom are you ever going home?"

"I will soon. I thought you'd gone, Cath."

"You thought, or you hoped?"

Nice Catherine, way to make him feel appreciated.

"Would it be so wrong if I hoped you'd gone home?"

"Yes."

"It would be wrong for me to want you to have a home life away from this place. I thought you'd gone to home to Linds."

See he is my Mr Darcy, misunderstood but secretly very kind, or something... I think that was me daydreaming.

"Sorry, Grissom. I meant that you were hiding from me, I meant you were avoiding me."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't think we need a reason for it these days, it's just what we do."

"Catherine, I'm busy here, is there something you need?"

"My friend."

So there's that big mouth that gets me into so much trouble.

"Cath..."

"I wanted to say happy birthday."

He puts down what he was working on when he hears me mention these words. I finally have his attention, or the part of it he allows for me.

"I was trying to forget about it, Cath."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting that, I have to say. I thought he might smile and tell me how he could always depend on me to remember. I thought that we might go for breakfast and make up for whatever has been wrong with us for the last few months. I thought that he would smile, at the very least I thought he would treat me to one of his smiles.

"I'm sorry Gil, I didn't think."

"No you didn't"

What?

"What?"

Well it needed to be said.

"You didn't think. Now, could you go please Catherine."

"Shifts over, Gil, you need to go home too."

"I will when I'm ready."

"Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?"

"I'm not Catherine, I'm simply trying to get on with my work."

"By picking a fight with me?"

"By getting you out of my office."

"In the past the best way to get your work done was to invite me in here to help. But we don't do that anymore, do we?"

This conversation is going a lot differently to the one I imagined we would be having. I thought we would be discussing whether I should pay for breakfast or whether we should go somewhere nice and Gil could pay. I don't think that's going to happen now, and Gil's silence on the matter is really beginning to tick me off.

"Do we?"

I think I might have shouted that a little too loud.

"No, Cath, we don't. I don't ask you in here to help me anymore, and you don't come when I don't ask."

It's the sadness in his voice which threatens to undo me. Why does he have to possess such expressive eyes, he looks defeated all of a sudden. This has nothing to do with age, with getting older, there is something more serious going on here. And then it hits me, the last time he retreated from me there was something more serious going on. Please make him be alright, please let him see another birthday.

"Gil?"

If I say the wrong words then he won't tell me what I need to know, and whatever is wrong is something I need to know.

"Are you sick again Gil?"

So much for subtlety, Cath. At least he meets my eyes again, but I can feel mine start to water under his gaze. I blink quickly trying to ward off the tears, but of course it only encourages their progress. I turn away, maybe I want to turn away from the difficult words and this difficult scene. I wanted today to be, actually it doesn't matter. Whatever I wanted the day to be will not happen now, and it's too late to go back.

"No."

"Is that the truth, Gil. You're not sick?"

"Not in the way you think."

"What does that mean, not in the way I think? It's something different this time, tell me."

He sighs and I want to slap him, I do. Is he bored? Annoyed that I care?

"Catherine, I'm not ill. I'm not."

"I'll find out, Gil."

And for a moment there is the beginning of a smile on his lips, but it fades and his solemn gaze returns.

"I know you would. I'm not sick."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Nothing, I meant nothing. I'm getting old, remember, it was the crazy ramblings of an old man."

"Don't make fun of me, don't pretend this means nothing."

"I'm not. I'm in a weird mood, ignore it. Do you want to go for breakfast?"

No.

"Why are you in here?"

"It's my office, Catherine."

"Don't make jokes. I mean it, why are you hiding again? I thought we fought our way through that."

"I'm thinking about my own mortality, it's what I do the older I get."

"I'm not talking about today. You've been in here a lot recently, and I've been on the other side of the door."

"I'm getting older, Cath."

"Well, that's a given. You're a scientist, didn't they cover that at school?"

"No who's making fun of who?"

"I'm sorry, I joke when I get scared Gil."

"Look, let's go get some breakfast ,I think we both need some coffee."

"What else have you been thinking about in here? I know that's what you do, so what's going on in that head of yours."

"I didn't used to hate my birthday, but I'm starting to. It seems to be mocking me this year."

"Your birthday is mocking you? Seriously? I thought it was supposed to be women who go nuts about the aging process. Come on, you're still gorgeous and you know it."

He looks at me as though I just harmed him in some way, as if that were something I was intent on doing.

"Sometimes your jokes are too much, Cath."

"I wasn't joking."

"Okay, well let's leave it there."

"Leave what?"

"Whatever it is we're talking about."

"What are we talking about?"

"Birthdays. Growing older, not liking it very much."

"What don't you like?"

I say those words very quietly, conscious of the shift which has taken place in the room. We have maintained eye contact for longer than usual, and there is tension between us again. What we are not saying has never been more obvious, it's what we do say that keeps us apart.

"Do you remember what birthdays were like when you were a kid?"

Gil, honey, you wouldn't want to know. They are part of the reasons I ran all the way to this city, but I can't tell you that. I'll give you the edited version, though.

"Barely. I remember cake with pink icing, and fighting with my sister over who could eat more."

"Did you make a wish, a birthday wish?"

"I guess. Yeah, I did, wishes you couldn't say out loud incase they didn't come true."

"Exactly. Did you believe they would ever come true, Cath?"

"Not really, I don't remember. Lindsey still does it, I think she wished for Justin Timberlake last year. That better not come true."

He's smiling a little now, we both are. Talking about my daughter always brings us together, at least I know how he feels about my daughter. I would like to know how he feels about me.

"My birthday wishes never come true, Catherine. I make the same wish every year, and nothing. I never tell, hoping against hope, but what I wish for remains out of my grasp."

He sounds like a little boy all of sudden and the urge to hold him is overwhelming. But I stay where I am, but I need him to tell me...

"Gil?"

"Yes, Cath?"

I don't know when he did it, but Gil is leaning over his desk towards me. My hands are on the desk and Gil has placed his infront of mine,our fingertips are almost touching. He is almost touching my hand and I am actually giddy with the thrill of it.

"Have you ever thought about saying what you wish for out loud. Maybe the words need to reach an audience."

And as his fingers curl with mine, I think I know what he's going to say.

The end.