"Why are you bothering me like this again? I thought you were here to support me."

"Catherine, this is not 'bothering', this is me nurturing my pregnant friend."

"Am I said friend?"

"Yes."

"Then you have a very mixed up idea of nurturing, honey. Making me watch Orlando Bloom movies is not nurturing - it's mild torture..."

"Bite your tongue. Orlando on screen is a spiritual experience, you're simply too old and married to remember what beauty is."

"I could kill you, you know, and use pregnancy hormones as my defence."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. And I don't disagree with you, Orlando is very beautiful but when I think about how dreamy he is... Well I start thinking about Gil, and then I just get sad again."

"You have it bad my girl."

"The marriage license kind of makes that obvious, Jon."

"Right. Has he called today?"

"No. He's working insane hours to try and get home sooner, he'll call tonight when Linds gets home."

"I don't understand why he had to go to New York, don't they have their own experts?"

"Not like Gil."

"Your face when you say that, all stupid and proud."

"The proud bit certainly, but the stupid bit just makes me want to stand up in court and use the hormone defence again."

"Sorry sweetie. Can I get you anything?"

"Gil."

"Cath..."

"What? You asked. I want my husband, I miss him. I love you, blah blah... But I miss Gil."

"Okay, awkward girl, if I could work my magic and bring him here then I would - but I think it's beyond even me. I was talking about comfort food, pillows, a mirror so you can see your feet again."

"Jon..."

"Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood, and I was practising with 'Cath is fat' jokes for when you are..."

"I'm telling you now, you begin developing a 'Cath is fat' line of gags then you will know what it is to suffer. Say it with me - PREGNANT not FAT... I expect better from you sweetie."

"Pregnant not fat, I know sweetie. I was making fun of you like I always do, what's happened to your good humour?"

"It's left me. It's in New York with Gil."

"Right. Why don't you just go and call him , you'll feel better."

"He's busy, and I am NOT that woman who needs to check up on her husband every few minutes."

"Well, you obviously are."

"Am not, I just miss him. Don't you?"

"Yeah."

"He writes to me."

"Huh?"

"How very eloquent of you. I'm so glad you teach my daughter."

"I'm the definition of eloquence in the classroom, it's just you that makes me tongue tied. Anyway, Gil writes to you? When?"

"Since he went to New York. He wrote the first one at the airport, and there has been at least one for every day since."

"You two make me sick... Can I read them?"

"No."

"Please, I'll put the movie off and everything. I'll buy good popcorn."

"They're private."

"But you brought up the fact of the existence of the letters, so I need to know. What does he write you about?"

"You really don't need to know. He writes about general things - the case he's working on, Linds, me, missing us..."

"And he writes everyday? Why doesn't he just email you like good Americans everywhere?"

"Because he's romantic and sweet, everything you are not apparently. He bought a good pen and nice expensive paper, and he writes to me. It's wonderful actually. I come home to a package of mail every couple of days. Lindsey does too."

"If I didn't love you, I really wouldn't like you very much."

"Why?"

"Cause every time I think how lucky I am to have a wonderful boyfriend you go and out Grissom me."

"Get used to it."

"I'm trying. Actually this baby will be lucky to have me around, crazy Uncle Jon to balance out all your dreamy perfection."

"We're far from perfect, honey. Happy, though."

"Yeah. Okay, so can we spend your day off reading Gils' letters, or do we watch Orlando Bloom?"

"Movies, and no sneaking off to read my mail if I fall asleep."

"No promises."

"Remember 'pregnancy hormones', I will do real damage..."

"I don't doubt it for a second sweetheart."

I was talking to Jon earlier about missing my husband. We were joking about it, I suppose, but I'm not doing too well with the enforced seperation. He's been gone for two weeks and the chances of him being home in the next few days are very slim.

He's got a case to finish before he can come home to us. I know he doesn't want to be there, I know he doesn't, but he is. And I'm sulking. Not to Gil, of course, it's not his fault - but I am sulking at the general unfairness of it all. Am taking most of my ill humour out on Jon, it's what he's for. But why does Gil have to be so brilliant, so in demand to crack this case. Why did I have to fall for the smart one?

That's not fair, I should think of the families of the victims in this case. I know that's what Gil is doing, I know it's why he left. My sweet man. It was a difficult decision for him to go, I know he didn't want to miss a single minute of my pregnancy. Our pregnancy. But Lindsey and I decided he should go, we all did. But I can still be sad.

He wrote to me again today, I didn't tell Jon that. That's sixteen letters since he left. He writes a clutch of them and sends four or five together to brighten my day. And they do, I love the way he writes. But he writes for me, and I won't even share them with Jon. No matter how much he begs. Some things even your best friends can't know. But while he's gone, Jon will make me smile, and make me miss him all the more

THE END

Okay, that was a scene setter I suppose. I have written the 'letters' if anyone wants to read them. I know they will be pure schmaltz, but it is Valentines week??