Gil Grissom shut the folder and tossed it on his desk in disgust. He needed an assistant and they were sending him a stripper. He looked at Ryan Singleton and sighed.

"Great, just what I need, some augmented, trailer-trash blonde bimbo," he muttered. "A stripper. Anderson must be nuts, or in love. Maybe she promised him a lap dance."

"Maybe you can get her to perform for your birthday."

"I didn’t promise anyone a lap dance. And I most definitely will not dance for your birthday."

A voice from the doorway startled him and Gil whirled around, his eyes taking in the beautiful woman standing a few feet from him. He heard Ryan hide his laughter by coughing.

"For the record, I don't have fake breasts, nor is my hair trailer-trash blonde." She walked closer, stopping a few inches from him. "Oh and I'm not a bimbo." She eyed him coldly. "Any other prejudicial, preconceived notions you'd like to go over? Or can I get to work?"

Gil had the good grace to be ashamed, but he was also angry. This woman was too outspoken, too brash for his tastes. With the anger came the embarrassment of being taken to task in front of his friend. "Um. No. I'm sorry. Gil Grissom, you must be Catherine Reynolds." He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. And waited. Then waited some more. Just as he was about to let his hand drop to his side, she shook it briefly.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked him.

Catherine strode through the open door to Gil's office, anger in every measured step. Stopping in front of his desk, she snatched the papers out of his hand and leaned over, her face close to his.

"Let's just get this straight. I don't like you, you don't like me. Fine, I don't need any new faces in my life, but understand this, you will not run me off! You can belittle me, you can treat me as if I'm a stupid child that can't add two and two and get four. You can work me harder than anyone else, you can say anything about me that you want to, but you cannot get me to leave. I decide when it's time and buddy, it's not time!" She glared at him for another moment before straightening and leaving his office, slamming the door behind her.

When she got to the lounge, she flopped herself in a chair and dropped her head in her hands, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Anything to stop the tears that threatened. She'd die before she let him or anyone see her cry. Defeat was not a word in her vocabulary. The last 6 months of working with Gil Grissom had been an absolute hell. He'd done everything short of throwing her out the double doors of the lab to get her to leave. She'd lost count of the times she went home in tears, frustration and anger shaking her body as she navigated the streets of Vegas.

"Gil Grissom is a fucking asshole!" She raged as she got up and poured herself a cup of coffee. It tasted like shit, but she needed it. Unfortunately, she couldn't put any alcohol in it. Grissom didn't need any ammunition on her.

"I have something for you."

Catherine closed her eyes and sighed at his voice. She slowly turned, making sure her features were schooled and he couldn't read the hurt in her eyes. Deciding silence was her best option, she waited for him to continue.

He tossed a folder on the table. "Your eval. Read, sign and get it back to me." He turned and walked out.

"Great, you blew it this time, Cat. Good job." Catherine walked to the table and opened the folder, squeezing her eyes shut, knowing he was going to blast her. "I'm out of a job. I just know it." She opened her eyes and began to read over the columns, knowing that at best she was going to get all 'does not meet standards' or whatever the terms were. All evaluations were the same, they just used different words to tell you that you either met their expectations or you didn’t. What she read made her sink into the seat, her eyes wide.

In each column he'd checked 'exceeded' and his written comments were even better. Catherine set the papers on the table, staring at them in disbelief. It was a glowing evaluation and she was stunned. She grabbed a pen and scrawled her signature on the forms, afraid that if she didn't sign them quickly they would disappear. She stood and walked out of the lounge, heading for his office; she did have one question for him.

"Why?" she asked without preamble as she approached his desk.

"Why what?" Gil asked looking up at her.

"Why did you...why all the attitude towards me?"

Gil sat back and regarded her for a moment. "Because you're the best and you needed to prove it. To yourself, not to me. Do you disagree with anything I've written?"

"No. I just didn't expect it from you."

"Expect the unexpected, Reynolds." He fished through the papers on his desk. "One more thing." He handed her a badge. "You're now officially CSI level One. Congratulations."

Catherine reached out and took the badge from him, her fingers brushing his, smiling widely.

Gil froze; it was the first time she had flashed a smile in his direction and he was unprepared for the impact. He still didn't like her, he didn't feel bad for his treatment of her, but he could admit that she was beautiful.