"But it hurts!"
Catherine increased the pressure of the ice pack against Grissom's wound, with an evil grin.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, as his hand shot up to grab her wrist. "You are cruel!"
"Well, you don't even know what pain is, and you're sitting here whinging!" she countered, fighting against his grasp to place the compress gently against his forming bruise.
"And I suppose you're an expert on pain?" Grissom asked, wincing at the contrast between the ice and the burning of his skin.
"Well, I'm sure I've experienced it more times than you have... And I'm not just talking about little bumps to the head!"
"My operation hurt," Grissom stated in a child like tone, proud that he could prove her wrong.
"You were anaesthetised!" Catherine laughed.
"Okay! If we're being pedantic, my recovery hurt!"
Catherine now looked more sympathetic. "All right, I believe you have experienced pain - but compare that to this, and you must agree that you are being soft," she smiled sweetly - a smile that he could never ignore.
He was silent for a moment drawn in by her beauty, and frozen by his love for her. Then he remembered that she wasn't his. That it was times like this - when he allowed himself to forget that they were nothing more than friends - that made it harder to see her everyday; that made his heart ache each time another day passed during which he didn't find the courage to tell her how he felt. Reality brought him out of his daze, and after recalling where they were up to, he pouted and said:
"There was a lot of force behind that blow!"
Catherine smiled again. "I know, honey, but I did warn you to stand well back," she said, in a tone she might use to a child.
Grissom made a move to stand. "You know, I'd get more sympathy from my bugs... I think I'll just go home."
Without thinking about it Catherine repositioned herself to stop him, resulting in her straddling his lap. "Don't be silly..."
Their eyes locked for a second and she realised what she had done to cause the surprise and nervousness that flashed in his. She felt her heart rate increasing rapidly and quickly tried to take control of her breathing before it did the same.
"You - " she started, then cleared her throat, "You can't be alone. You might have a concussion," she grinned.
Her humour made his nerves subside and he smiled whilst trying to feign offence. "If you're just going to make fun of me - "
"You're just so easy to make fun of," she giggled.
"Do you get these insults out of a book or do they just come to you?" he smirked.
"It's my quick wit..." she smiled, then after a moment of looking deep in thought, she continued, "You remember me saying that?"
Grissom shrugged shyly.
"That was over two years ago," she added.
Grissom shrugged once more. "I guess that shows my injury can't be that bad. I'm sure I'm okay to go home."
He saw Catherine's eyes cloud before she managed to conceal it. She looked disappointed, but he felt sure he must have been imagining it.
"If you're sure," she said, maintaining her recently adopted smile.
"I'll be fine," he said softly, lost in her eyes, which had once again captured his.
She shifted slightly, subconsciously brushing herself against him. "Are you sure?" she asked, in a seductive tone that surprised them both.
Seriousness replaced the look of desire that had, for a few seconds burned in Grissom's eyes, as he said: "Cath...?"
She responded quickly, suddenly panicked by what she had done. "I'm sorry... I don't know what I was doing..." she said as she began to raise herself off his knee.
She was stopped by his hands on her waist as he said, "I do."
Her head shot round to face him, her expression questioning his meaning.
"Yearnings and longings are difficult to suppress," he said, moving one had to tenderly cup the side of her face.
"Sounds like a quotation," she said, shakily. "But, I don't know who - "
"Gil Grissom," he smiled.
"Ah! He's a wise man... Good insight."
"He speaks from experience," he said, as his thumb stroked her cheekbone.
Catherine scolded herself for the jelly-like feeling that had taken over her body and mind at this small gesture. `You're Catherine Willows,' she told herself, "You don't get flustered over men... oh, but this is Grissom,' her mind said as she felt Grissom's thumb moving so gently against her skin. She regained her composure, `Snap out of it! It's just Gil. You can do this. You've been waiting for this. You know what you've got to do. Stop talking to yourself and flirt!'
She smiled flirtatiously and said: "So what does he yearn for?"
Grissom raised an eyebrow, pleased that he hadn't scared her away, and impressed that she was flirting with him. "Well, there is this hair that he yearns to touch, these lips that he yearns to kiss, this body that he yearns to hold against his." As he spoke he ran his hand through her hair, smoothed his thumb across her lips, and pulled her tighter to him. When he finished, their faces were just centimetres apart, their eyes held firmly by the other's.
Catherine smiled, happily, "So what's the problem? How come he doesn't fulfil these yearnings?"
"She has a flaw - " he smirked.
Catherine pulled back to protest, and Grissom caught her hand in his. "She's useless with a yo-yo," he grinned.
"It flies all over the place when she tries to do it. She even hit him with it once!" Grissom continued.
"And I bet he kicked up a fuss and demanded attention!" Catherine smiled.
Grissom nodded solemnly, "Most definitely! If you saw her, you'd want an excuse to demand attention."
"Really? She's that hot?"
"Oh yeah! Every guy who has ever met her will vouch for that."
"Is she single?"
"Then why hasn't he told her of his yearnings?"
"He's ... scared," Grissom admitted, with a look of vulnerability Catherine had rarely seen before.
"Well, he shouldn't be."
"But he is. They've been friends for eighteen years, three months and twelve days, he doesn't want to ruin what they've got."
"Chances are they're probably meant to be more than just friends."
"How do you know that?"
"Because she probably has similar yearnings. Every time she sees his cute little smile, she yearns to feel his lips against hers, every time they're in the same room she feels desire soar throughout her body and she yearns to hold him and dissipate the sexual tension they've built up over the eighteen years, three months and twelve days."
As she spoke they drew closer together again, both hearts beating uncontrollably, breathing fast and chests heaving.
"Well, if they both have these yearnings, why aren't they together?" he said quietly as they stared into the pools of love that looked back at them.
"Because they keep talking about themselves in the third person, instead of taking action," Catherine smiled, before their lips crashed together, in a kiss in which yearnings were fulfilled, and yo-yos forgotten.