The room was quiet. Well, not really. The low murmur of conversations filled in as background noise to the club's jazz band that evening. Everything was a normal Friday night, but even with the normalcy, she felt uncomfortable. When she first started coming here, it was a smoke filled, dimly lit den with red and brown paper leaves hanging from the rafters. Now, the leaves were gone revealing darkly stained walnut beams and smoking was no longer permitted within the club.

When the band took a short break, she scanned the crowd for her companion. He was not there yet, but it was still early. It seemed like only yesterday that she was waiting nervously to meet the stranger she had met in an alley way for coffee and half expecting her husband to come barging in to take her away. Her husband never showed. As a result, of that first meeting, she was where she was today. Yes, Jimmy had a role to play in her ultimate decision, but it was these weekly -formally daily- meetings that convinced her she was doing the right thing.

Nursing her coffee, she leaned back in her chair and smiled. It was those memories of idle chats about everything and nothing, ranting about impossible professors, and God-sent help with homework that sustained her while she finished school and dealt with her deteriorating marriage.

"Hello," he said as he sat down in the seat across from her. The table was covered with open textbooks and notebooks filled with her handwriting. He sat observing her for a couple of minutes as she rifled through the pages of an enormous biology textbook. "Test coming up?"

She smiled, shook her head, and continued to flip the pages. One of the club waitresses came to their table with his order. After an unsuccessful attempt to gain his interest, she left.

"Coffee, M'lady?"

Catherine laughed and set down her book. He handed her a mug and she inhaled the aroma. "Ah, heaven on earth," she stated with contentment. They sat in companionable silence as the jazz band returned for another set beginning with "My Favorite Things." Grissom observed his friend as she scribbled notes down from the textbook in front of her. With a sigh of frustration, Catherine slammed the book closed causing him to flinch at the sudden sound.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Grissom looked at her sternly; he knew when she was lying. "Fine, it's Saporisitta. He wants a detailed outline for a major paper before the weekend. Somehow, we're supposed to accomplish that while studying for a comprehensive test in micro. Stop laughing."

Grissom continued to chuckle at her frustration. In many ways, she reminded him of his fellow classmates at UCLA. He never had a problem with the abundant schoolwork that was required from him. Of course, he wasn't working nights and supporting a spouse while battling a habit.

Seeing that Grissom had stopped laughing at her, she shifted gears. "Jimmy stopped by last night at the Club."

"What did he want?" Grissom asked. He knew the detective from previous investigations. He was a good guy and Grissom truly appreciated that the seasoned cop could see past the glitz of Catherine's current career to see the active mind that loved puzzles.

"He had a small conundrum for me to solve," Catherine said, shrugging her shoulders. She sipped the coffee and enjoyed the silence that enveloped them. Jimmy and Gil were good guys- her angels sent from heaven. They both kept her from breaking down and giving in to the numbness that cocaine offered her when times got tough.

It had been nine years since she had fallen off and taken a hit, which led to another and another. Jimmy had disappeared from her life shortly before she announced her pregnancy to her co-workers. Grissom had switched from working swing to working nights; leaving her with only a couple of people on days with whom she could get along.

She had worked up until her eighth month before taking any leave. The money was definitely not what she was used to getting as a dancer, but it was a more honest living. During the months that followed her little girl's birth, her relationship with her husband began spiraling downwards. He took to staying out later or not even bothering to come home at nights. She tried to fight the depression that settled upon her as she took care of her daughter, but in the end, will power just wasn't enough.

It had been weeks since Grissom last spoke to her. She never knew when Eddie would come home and she wanted to get away from it all-life, feelings, everything. She knew Eddie had started to bring home coke that he "confiscated" from the girls he was promoting. It took only minutes to find his stash. She inhaled the white powder and leaned back on the couch. Two years of control lost as the drug hit her system. She didn't know how long she sat there, but Grissom barging in through the front door brought her back from her stupor.

Grissom gave her a cursory once over before heading to the nursery where Lindsey was loudly calling for attention. When he returned with a subdued baby, he held a bag of baby things and a duffle with her clothes. "Catherine, let's go."

There was no explanation. Seeing her daughter playing with her best friend's hair brought the reality of what she did to life. Catherine simply nodded and got her jacket. She left no note for Eddie as was custom, and they left. Grissom drove silently to the hospital, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She knew she messed up; she knew that he knew or at least suspected what happened.

Detox was easier this time around. Unlike her last time in the rehab center, she was allowed visitors after the first week. Lindsey, at her insistence and because Eddie had disappeared, stayed with her sister. Before Grissom went to work and after he got off, he would visit with her. During one emotional conversation, Grissom let it slip how he had arrived at her front door on his day off.

He could hear Lindsey wailing and Catherine refused to answer the door. "I was so afraid that something happened to you that when I barged in it barely registered that the door was unlocked. Cath, I want you to promise me something."

And she did. Any time she felt anywhere close to what she was feeling that day or if she had to fight with a craving, she called him. Sometimes they would just talk at work or on the phone and other times they would meet where their friendship took form.

"Hey there."

"You came."

"As if I would forget such a momentous occasion."

"Thank you for being there for me."

"I'll always be there, Cath." Grissom raised his mug and touched hers gently in a silent toast shared with a close friend.