She dropped a folder she was carrying onto Grissom's desk, and dropped herself onto a chair opposite her supervisor, who had looked up from his paperwork. He lowered his glasses and gave her a small smile.
"So, who was it?" he asked.
"The butler," she stated, proudly.
Grissom raised an eyebrow and his smile twitched slightly.
Catherine nodded. "Cliché, I know… So?"
The expression on her face made it clear that she was expecting him to say something.
He frowned. " `So?'?"
"Yesterday you wanted to talk to me… Things have been a little crazy since then," she smiled.
"Yeah," was all he said.
Catherine allowed the silence for almost a minute, willing to accept that there was a small chance he was going to continue, even though she knew he wouldn't.
"So?" she repeated, slightly impatient.
Grissom just looked at her.
Her eyes widened slightly, almost in disbelief that he still seemed to have no intention of speaking. "Was it important?"
He simply stared at her: entranced by the sparkle in her eyes; the softness of her skin; the beauty that she radiated. Lost in his love for her. Then he gave a small nod and quietly said, "Yeah."
Catherine grinned. "Oh, you can still speak?"
Grissom laughed slightly but he still couldn't find the words to tell her. He had been prepared for this yesterday. Now, he didn't know how to say it. Every thing he could think of sounded corny or clichéd, and he couldn't help but fear that she would laugh in his face.
"Gil?" she prompted, beginning to be concerned by the worry she could see in his eyes. "Are you okay?… Is it your hearing? Has "
Grissom shook his head vehemently. "No… I'm fine. Everything's fine."
"So why are you finding it so difficult to talk to me?"
Grissom hesitated for a second then said: "I don't know if you're gonna like it."
Catherine was getting increasingly worried by his distance, but she tried to hide it behind a reassuring smile. "There's only one way to find out."
"I'm not sure I want to," he stated sombrely.
Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Catherine stood and banged her hands onto the desk, leaning the top of her body towards him.
"That's it! I've been patient for long enough. What the hell is going on?!"
After he recovered from his shock at her outburst, Grissom said: "Honestly, it's nothing to worry about."
She softened her tone and expression. "Then tell me… I'm not gonna bite," she smirked, flirtatiously.
Grissom smiled back, and his eyebrow flicked up.
"Gil Grissom!" Catherine reprimanded, straightening up.
"What?" he asked, innocently.
"I saw that look in your eyes… And I know exactly what you were thinking!"
"Oh, you're a mind reader now are you?" he asked, standing up to carry some files over to the filing cabinet, grateful for the change in atmosphere.
"Unfortunately not." She followed him towards the cabinet, stepping in front of him when he turned to walk back to his desk.
"Gil, we've been friends for nearly two decades. You know you can tell me anything," she smiled.
"Anything… You can even tell me you hate my taste in clothes. You can tell me you think I wear too much make up… You'd be wrong. But you can tell me."
"But you would hurt me," Grissom commented.
"True," she agreed, smiling. "So if you wanna live, best to tell me something more complimentary."
"Like… Even though you're exhausted you still look radiantly beautiful," she grinned.
"Ah. So you are a mind reader," Grissom smirked. Then before he knew it was happening Catherine's lips were on his, soft and sweet, and then they were gone again.
"What… er… what was " he stuttered, his mind in confusion and still seconds behind reality.
"Reading your mind," she smiled shyly.
Grissom smiled and pulled her towards him. "You're getting good at it." He gently cupped one side of her face, stroking her cheek softly as he looked deep into her eyes. "I love you."
Catherine's smile dazzled more than it usually did, and mischief twinkled in her eyes. "I know," she giggled as his lips crashed down onto hers.