Catherine was walking down the hall of the Las Vegas Crime Lab with a purpose: to leave. She passed by the always open door to Gil Grissom's office. As usual, there he sat, buried in his paperwork. So he didn't buy Libby's story, either... She knew he was scared and still in shock from the events that had taken place earlier in the day. Once again, she got a longing, loving look in her blue-green eyes. She stopped and leaned her left shoulder against the doorjamb. He was the most beautiful man God had ever created. His soft, gently waved brown hair was graying at his temples and elsewhere these days. His blue eyes had lost their shine since they'd fought and were looking over the rim of his glasses at a report. His beard was sexy and trimmed close to his face. It only enhanced his unearthly handsomeness. They had loved each other for almost 20 years and the last few weeks had been the hardest, most sad time in their relationship. She missed the man she wanted and needed more than her next breath.

"Hey," she called softly.

She watched as his head snapped up from the manila folder he was engrossed in. She was pleasantly surprised when that old twinkle came into the eyes she had come to know so well. The crows feet that creased the corners of those wonderful eyes became more prominent as he let a smile creep across his soft lips. He tried to hide it, but she knew and smirked.

"I thought you were long gone," he managed. Those words had two possible meanings. She noted the sadness in his tenor voice.

"Well, I'm not," she smiled. Then her cell phone rang. She couldn't help but notice him cringe and bristle. Jealousy and hurt crept back into his eyes. She didn't want to answer, but she wanted to be sure it wasn't Lindsey's sitter. She jerked the phone out of her purse, flipped it open and glanced at the number. She sighed in misery as she snapped it shut. The caller was unimportant. "Sorry," she said again.

He shrugged. "What? That call wasn't important?" He seemed very shy and nervous.

She tilted her head and forced his eyes to meet hers. "No, Gil," she said. She swallowed hard and suddenly felt ashamed and terrible, remembering the last time she was in his office and her phone rang earlier in the day. It had been one of the most awkward and painful moments in her life.

He heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. She came into the room, tossed her purse on the small sofa against the wall and settled on the corner of his desk. She reached across, pulled the pen from his hand and tossed it aside. She flipped the folder closed and smirked, feeling his playful annoyance. "You. Me. Food." Their eyes met. She was silently pleading.

"I thought... Don't you have plans?" he asked confused.

"I do if you say yes," she smirked, her voice low and sultry, a gleam in her eyes.

He raised his eyebrow and peered at her over the rim of his glasses, the way that always made her knees weak. Her reddish-blond hair caught the light just right and hung to just below her shapely shoulders. Her pale alabaster skin was spotted with freckles and he'd memorized where each one was. The black tank top, black flare leg slacks and black slip ons she wore were understatedly chic. She was the love of his life. He could not and would not ever deny her anything she asked of him. She received a wink because he knew she was waiting for one. She thanked God.

************************************************************************

She sat at the small, round glass table. She marveled at how he maneuvered around his kitchen as well as he navigated the lab. No matter how many times they did this, he never ceased to amaze her as she watched him cook.

"You should have a doctor look at your neck," she said breaking the friendly silence that had settled between them. They had never needed words to communicate.

Both brilliant minds drifted back ... A suspect had attacked him in the interrogation room, grabbing him tightly around his throat and slamming him against the wall. If Jim's men hadn't been able to pry him off of him, it could very well have been Gil on the slab in the morgue instead of the psychotic perp. He was scared and she was the first and only person at his side, the only one he wanted to comfort him. She tenderly touched his face and she knew he was frightened. As usual, he tried to hide it from her. Just like when he'd had his surgery and refused the wheelchair and acted like he was unaffected. But she knew his soul, felt what he felt and knew. She joked that the bruises the man left looked like a hickey. Their eyes met and for an instant, they knew they were both wishing it WAS a hickey and that she had been the one to give it to him. He tried to be stern, but he smirked and playfully swatted her hand away...

He began chopping up green pepper, ignoring her concern. "I told you I'm fine," he said.

She rolled her eyes and narrowed them. "If you say the word 'fine' one more time, Grissom, I swear I'll scream! I ask you if we're good, you say "We'll be fine"... You almost get strangled to death by some freak and I ask you if you're OK, you say "I'm fine..."

"Fine, Catherine. I will never say the word FINE to you again," he said, a smirk in his eyes.

Her eyes narrowed further. "FINE!" she spat in imitation. "I'm glad you can make light of this, Gil. It's only our relationship and your life we're NOT talking about!!" she said, sadness and anger battling in her sultry voice. She stood, yanked her purse off the back of the chair and was about out the door when she felt a gentle hand cover her shoulder. When she whirled around to face him, the pain and desperation in her usually sparkling, love filled eyes shocked him. "You didn't even let me talk! You shut down on me again... You never gave me a chance. You assumed the worst of me. You'd never done that before. Do you know how much that hurt?! I thought you believed in me, trusted me... KNEW me... I would NEVER do anything to jeopardize you or the lab and you know that, damn it!!!" she wailed.

"Cath, I..."

"I didn't do it to hurt you or anyone else," she hissed, interrupting him. "I did it to make life easier for my baby girl, to give Lindsey a life, a future! I have *never* once had a break... NEVER! ... My mother hated me because I was a constant, living reminder of her worst mistake: an affair with Sam Braun, a murdering son of a bitch who thinks money can fix everything. The man who raised me hated me because he knew I wasn't his. I left at 17 and they didn't care and wouldn't let me come home. I bussed tables and fell in with the wrong crowd. I smoked, but for some strange reason I was able to kick the habit with that Nicorette gum stuff... Then I got high on Coke and wrapped my naked body around a cold metal pole. I married a lowlife who beat me because I believed I didn't deserve any better and couldn't DO any better... Stephanie was murdered and someone I trusted was in on a frame job that let her real killer go free... My half brother is in jail for killing my other half brother and I -*ME*- had to put him away... My daughter was almost killed, I had to physically save her. That night haunts me to this day..." she stopped to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

He swallowed hard. This was not how either of them saw this date.

"But through it all, I had you... You're more than my best friend.You got me into rehab and took care of me. Ed claimed HE was my hero because *he* paid for it... Woo hoo. 'That don't impress me much.' He never even visited me!! And who hooked me on the junk in the first place?! You protected me from that bastard. You encouraged me to go to school. You love Lindsey as your own. You supported me. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't be alive or where I am today without you." She had calmed herself down enough and was speaking normally. "I told you about the check because it was a secret I was keeping from you and I remember a conversation we had while you laid in your hospital bed after your surgery about not keeping secrets from each other anymore. I wanted to tell you... But you wigged out on me."

"You're the one who painted her face and dressed up and went out with some 'new friend' you'd known for 2 seconds only minutes after that. Don't talk to me about 'wigging out,' Catherine," he said. He tried to be firm, but he came across as jealous and hurt. "I thought we had a healthy relationship, one where if we had a problem, neither of us ran about covering other people in latex and¼" He couldn't complete the thought because it hurt too much.

Her temper flared again. "How dare you!? How can you treat me like this?! YOU of all people... I'm human, Gil. I make mistakes... BIG news flash: YOU'RE HUMAN, TOO!! YOU make mistakes... I don't get all sanctimonious on your ass and not listen."

He realized the biggest mistake he'd ever made was his attitude that day. "I'm sorry, Catherine," he said after a long pause.

"I know you are, but that doesn't change what's happened between us. I'm sorry, too, but that doesn't make THIS any better," she said, her hands motioning from herself to him and back. "Are we really gonna let this tear us apart?"

"I want us to be OK, Cath... I miss you. I don't want to loose you," he said, his voice full of emotion. "How I can help fix this?"

"We have to work together, Gil... I miss you, too. I don't want to loose you, either... I think the first step is to sit down and eat breakfast."

He smiled. She smiled back. "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step," he quoted expertly. He reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it and he squeezed back.

As they ate, the air cleared. She kicked off her shoes and took a sip of her Screwdriver. She swung her feet onto the chair.

"You know the big Race in the Desert is coming up in few days. You runnin', Methuselah?"

He chuckled as he turned on the faucet to rinse off their plates. "Not if you want us to win, Cath. My knees are gone, you know that."

She giggled and stood. He closed the dishwasher and turned to her. They hated what had to happen, but they had to say goodbye... for now.

************************************************************************

The night of the big race came and everyone was excited. Gil announced each one of their assignments. "Greg, you start us off. Hand off to Sara. Sara hand off to Nicky. Nicky, you hand off to Warrick... Warrick, you run and hand off to Cath."

All eyes were on their supervisor. "What about you, bossman?" Nick asked.

"Oh, I have the most important job of all," he said proudly.

Catherine blinked, totally oblivious as to his intentions. "What's that?"

"Cheerleader," he said, looking at Catherine.

The younger members of the team looked at each other in bewilderment and went to their places. Catherine turned to Gil. She suddenly understood what he was doing. "My very own cheerleader," she beamed. "Just don't wear one of those short skirts, OK?" she smirked as she hiked herself up into the Denali.

As they drove to the start of her leg of the race, leg 16, he watched in amazement as she nimbly parted her hair and braided both ponytails. She had on a skintight light blue pullover, a pair of equally tight black leggings and a pair of Nike track shoes. She pulled on a black beret, settled it on her head, and it completed her look. Once they came to the line and stopped, they hopped out. They settled on the hood of the Denali and mingled with the other racers for a few hours. The sun had set and they knew the pack was on it's way to meet up for the trade off by the talk on the radio. He helped her pin her #88 on her back.

Gil hopped off the hood and she had a moment of panic.

"Where ya goin'?"

"I'm gonna get you some water," he said smiling over his shoulder as he walked away. She smiled back. She watched him cross the road and then head up the hill to the little store. She slid off the hood and then reached into the back. She was pulling out her navy CSI vest and sliding her left arm into it when she noticed a man staring at her intently. He had jet black hair and a strong, pointy nose. He was relatively tall. She was more than used to men ogling her. She let it go and finished pulling on her vest. She began to stretch. She was in perfect shape and healthy, especially for her age, but she was no where near as flexible as she was in her much younger "dancing days."

"Hey there," the man said.

"Hey," she offered politely as she straightened up from touching her toes.

"Al Brooks. I'm sheriff of Jackpot. Nice to meet ya," he said, extending his hand to her.

She extended her hand to him and shook it. "Catherine Willows, CSI Las Vegas. Jackpot, huh? "

"Yup," he smirked. She watched the man focus on something behind her. She turned to find Gil standing there, two Dasani water bottles in his hand. He moved to Catherine's side.

"Well, well. Mr. Grissom, good to see ya again."

"Sheriff Brooks. How are you?" he said with a surprised smile. The men shook hands.

"Just talkin' to your wife here. You got yourself a prize," he winked.

Catherine raised her eyebrow. Gil cleared his throat and glanced at Catherine out of the corner of his eye. Sheriff Brooks moved back to his group after a few minutes of chit chat.

Catherine and Gil were lost in each others eyes. It was slightly past 3 AM, and the pack made it around the corner. They heard nothing but each others heartbeat, saw nothing but each other. When Warrick tentatively approached them, Catherine yanked the baton from his hand without breaking eye contact with Gil. She turned on her heels and began to run. Gil gasped and practically leaped into the Denali, eager to follow her. He gaged her pace and rolled down the window. They moved along in silence for a while. It was wonderful to be alone together in the fresh, clear night, the angst forgotten- at least for now. Then Gil remembered. He hit play on the CD player. The cheesy, grandiose music from the Olympic racing movie CHARIOTS OF FIRE began to play. He knew it would annoy her. Sure enough...

"What the HELL kinda music is that?" she grumbled playfully.

"Inspiration," he said, looking at her lovingly.

"Sedative," she giggled.

"OK," he said, smiling at her rolling eyes. He changed the CD player to the radio. Catherine couldn't help but think to herself that there were very few men who would voluntarily change the radio station for their woman. It landed on some country music neither of them knew.

"Something with a little less twang," she said, slightly imitating Nick. Gil punched the button again. A top 40, popular rock station.

I said, are you gonna be my girl?

Well, 1,2,3, take my hand and come with me
because you look so fine
and I really wanna make you mine

I say you look so fine
that I really wanna make you mine

Oh, 4,5,6 c'mon and get your kicks
now you don't need that money
with a face like that, do yA?

The music was upbeat rock and fun. The lyrics caught their attention.

"Better," she smirked. Their eyes met. He smirked back. They left it at that.

A few minutes later, Gil pulled 'a Grissom' and took off unexpectedly, leaving her in the dust- literally. Catherine followed him, breaking all the rules and relinquishing the lead they had. Gil had seen flares and they stumbled upon the body of a 'bad ass' Los Angeles cop. They ended up solving the case together.

************************************************************************

Then they caught another case that brought her 'father' Sam Braun back into the spotlight as a murder suspect. Gil had to remove her from the case. It was the first time he'd ever had to do that. He was able to clear Sam... with her 'help.'

Lindsey had her first sleepover of the summer season, so Catherine pulled on a little black dress and headed off to dinner with her 'father' Sam Braun. She had been so sad and lonely lately that anyone seemed to deserve some of her time. Sure he killed a young woman and he was just cleared of another murder, but her attitude these days was "Whatever; what the hell." Something he said to her months ago came back into her head: 'You make life too hard.'

They sat in a booth, Sam looking over the menu, Catherine pretending to do the same. The Rialto in the Venetian Hotel and Casino was neutral territory and served the finest Italian food on the Strip. It was an easy decision. They had been silent the entire time, but came to life as the waiter approached them. They gave him their orders and Sam insisted on a glass of the finest champagne. Catherine ordered Vodka. It was beginning to annoy Sam that his daughter invited him to dinner and then proceeded to ignore him. Sam Braun would NOT be ignored.

"Who was that loser you were with earlier, Mugs?" he asked, trying to start conversation. The waiter brought his champagne and settled her Vodka in front of her. She disregarded it for the moment.

"No one," she said flatly and without hesitation. It was evident to him that she could care less. "It's none of your business, anyway."

"You are my daughter, the mother of my granddaughter. It most certainly IS my business," he told her sternly as he lifted the glass of champagne to his lips. "I told you I want to try and do right by you and Lindsey."

"If I want you to know something and want you in our life, I will tell you," she hissed as politely as she could. "I'm not saying that this dinner means anything... I just thought it might be a way to start," she tried. She was unable to go on, as if the situation she had put herself in just hit her.

He let her cool, let it go at that. The waiter brought their salads.

"Your lover cleared me of murder. I was hoping you'd bring him to celebrate with us. I owe him one," he smirked, setting down his glass.

Catherine's blue-green eyes began to glow at the mention of Gil. That was not lost on Sam, but she said nothing, did nothing. Sam sighed in frustration. He watched her pick at her salad. The waiter came and said that he had a phone call. He left the table. She picked up her Vodka, swirled it around and took a large gulp. Her eyes drifted mindlessly around the posh restaurant as she lowered her glass back to the table.

He was standing in the doorway.

She forgot how to breathe and her heart stopped. He had never looked so handsome, with his gray-brown waves, closely trimmed beard and blue eyes that always read her soul. Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. Her elegant hand raised and covered her trembling lips. She had never been so happy to see him. He made his way over to her, their eyes locked as he crossed the room.

"Hey," she offered.

"Hello," he said softly. How did he know?

She saw his eyes land on the empty space next to her. She felt jealousy and hurt fill his entire being. When she saw Sam slowly approaching the table, she looked down. She looked up and watched Gil turn. Relief flooded over him, she saw it relax his body. She suddenly realized that he believed she was with her 'new friend.' It may not have been who he thought it was, but it was just as bad in his eyes.

"I'm glad you came. I owe you one, so let me do this for you. I have to go..." he motioned for the waiter to come over to them. "Treat them like royalty, anything they want," he instructed him. He turned his attention back to Catherine. "We'll talk later, Catherine... Good bye, Grissom," he said, turning to Gil and extending his hand. Gil swallowed hard and nodded, but did not except his offered hand. With that, he was off, leaving the two of them alone. Sam had somehow arranged this.

"You were having dinner with Sam?" he asked, his tenor voice questioning and surprised, maybe even happy.

Catherine shrugged her bare, pale, freckled shoulders. Their eyes met.

"I thought that... What happened to your new friend?" he asked quietly.

She smiled her warm, sultry smile. More words that Sam had spoken to her came back and she used them to answer him. "He wasn't impressing me."

Gil settled into the booth beside his beloved grasshopper and they smiled.

************************************************************************

Their next case was rape victim Linley Parker. Catherine took it hard and he knew it. They had a 'marital spat' about who was right and wrong. Greg broke it up... so to speak. Gil set about doing some research and tests. To his pleasant surprise, they proved SHE was the one in the know. It was one of the oddest things he'd ever uncovered. They closed the case and parted ways, Catherine unable to hide her gloating smirk. Gil settled behind his desk to review their report. The phone rang. Sara had been pulled over for drunk driving. She was fine, but he was still very worried. He went to her side. So this is what it felt like to be a 'father' and get the dreaded 'call' they'd seen so many times. God forbid he or Catherine ever got a call like this about Lindsey. Guilt welled up inside him. His gentle but firm and persistant rejection and the more recent promotion he'd offered Nick instead of her MUST have contributed. He knew she had feelings for him. He had feelings for her, but they weren't the same. He was 16 years older than she was. He met her after teaching a seminar in San Francisco almost 5 years ago. Since then, his relationship with her was the oddest one in his life. Genuine concern wrinkled his brow. He took her hand.

"I'll take you home," he said. He spared her the lecture he knew she should receive. She was an adult and she knew. She explained how she, Nick and Warrick had gone out on the town for the evening then she "called it a night." He put on some coffee, told her to take some time off. She protested, but he said he would take action if she didn't. She managed a faint "Thank you" and he left her sitting on her sofa.

There was someone he needed to talk to about this, someone else who should know. He flipped open his cell phone and pushed #1 on his speed dial.

"Cath, it's me... Sara was just pulled over... No, she's fine..." he assured her.

They decided he should come over to her house. They hung up.

As he drove along the infamously famous Las Vegas Strip, a conversation he and Sara had earlier that day came back to him. It was about vacations. Sara had been all but forced into hers. He should take a vacation, too. Suddenly, an image filled his brilliant mind: Catherine in a kelly green string bikini, Lindsey covering him with sand. They had their sunglasses on and all three of them were laughing. It made him happy. A scene flashed back to him. It involved an unhappy Sara and a letter of resignation. Gil had absentmindedly forgotten she was a vegetarian and subjected her to a rather unpleasant clean up job. Gil invited Catherine over to cook her breakfast and spend time with her. They had a discussion about how they were becoming a family, that they all looked up to him. He was the father, Sara the spoiled and only daughter and "the Boys", Nicky, Greg and Warrick. He guessed that Al was the grandfather and Jim and Rory were his brothers, the uncles. That left Catherine as the mother. That made her his wife. That made him VERY happy.

When he pulled into the driveway, he immediately noticed a certain lovely young girl waiting for him on the tiny porch. Their eyes met and he began to beam. She bounded down the three steps and leapt into his arms.

"Hey!"

"Hey! How are you?"

"I'm happy it's summer vacation!" she squealed, squeezing him close to her. He melted. He squeezed her closer and giggled as he eased her down.

"I bet you are," he said. He took her hand. "How did your science project for the end of the year go?"

"I got an A!" she chirped. "Those bugs are sooooo cool."

Gil chuckled. "You're lucky this year is a cicada year. It only happens..."

Lindsey rolled her eyes much like her mother would and interrupted him "... every 17 years, I know. You told me all about it, helped me with the project and I really liked it," she said smiling.

They walked up the steps and Gil raised his head. Catherine stood in the doorway, her arms folded, love in her eyes and a grin on her exquisite face.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey, Cath."

After chatting away and playing a game of cards with Lindsey, the clock chimed 10 and Catherine told Lindsey it was bedtime. Without protest, the 10 year old blue eyed blond hugged her mother tightly and kissed Gil on the cheek. She happily made her way to her bedroom. They heard the door close. Now they could talk. They settled on her small Ivory white sofa and popped open Budweiser beers.

"I noticed something wasn't right when she decided not to help me with Linley's interrogation. I felt it, ya know... Like I do with Lindsey... What did you do? Did they book her?"

He explained that they had just raised the legal limit, she had no prior offenses, she wasn't on the Strip, so they were lenient. They called him because they knew who she was. He simply drove her home. Catherine found herself falling even more in love with him. He loved his "family" and cared very deeply.

They sat silently for a few moments, lost in each other's eyes, happy to be so close gain physically and emotionally. Everything went away. She tilted her head up and heir lips met in the most passionate, loving kiss that ever was. It took a moment or them to get their bearings. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close s physically possible. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers nto his soft grey-brown waves. His beard ticked her chin and she thought it was the most glorious feeling she had ever felt. To her surprise, he parted her lips and awkwardly deepened the kiss. It was as if he was trying to show her he had the goods, like he felt he had to show her he was on her level when it came to... that sort of stuff. She giggled lovingly at his sweet folly. She pulled him closer and broke the kiss. She allowed her tongue to softly dance over his chin and lips, then slide into his mouth. She showed him what it was all about. After a few minutes, he moaned, unaccustomed to the physical affection and the response it was producing in him.

They pulled apart and she giggled. His eyes were filed with love and desire. Without anymore words, they made their way to her bedroom...

... It was passionate and loving at the same time. Neither of them had ever felt anything like what they felt as they explored each other and released all the pent up love and tension that had built up between them... They were pressed together and her head of soft, now damp reddish-blonde hair rested on his shoulder as they allowed their pleasantly aching naked bodies to calm down. Their fingers were laced together, her leg draped over his... They drifted off to sleep clinging desperately to each other, as if they lost physical contact, they'd be lost to each other forever.