Title: Family Matters
Rating: PG13 – Humor fic
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been, never will be. Just having some fun. Besides, I have no money, so don't sue. No infringement intended.
Archive: Anywhere…just let me know so I can visit.
Spoilers: Burden of Proof – post-ep vingette
Summary: None – this is just how I wish BoP had ended.
Feedback: I'm not above begging for it…seriously.
Author's Notes: I had no beta…any errors are mine. I took liberties with the narrative between Cath and Gil. I don't have the ep on tape so I'm not exactly sure what was said. Forgive me? Hope you like it. Special thanks to Sobell on `Television Without Pity" – if it wasn't for the BoP recap…I wouldn't have had a narrative leg to stand on.
"Tough case, huh?"
Gil Grissom's voice brought Catherine out of her fog. She glanced over the dinner table at him. His face held an expression she had become very familiar with over the years. Concern deepening the blue in his eyes.
"Yeah. You could say that." She brought her drink to her lips and took a long pull. "You know me, Gil. I would prefer a plain old homicide any day of the week – to something like this."
"You wouldn't be human if it didn't affect you."
Catherine nodded. Her eyes dropped to the plate in front of her. She began to push the food around it absentmindedly. When Gil had invited her over for dinner, so they could decompress, she had agreed immediately. Catherine knew it would be the perfect opportunity to bring the subject up, she just wasn't sure how. Gil was a very private person. Not to mention a stubborn one – and he didn't like being held under a microscope. Especially by someone who knew him so well. She decided to just say it and get it over with.
"I heard about you and…Sara."
Gil shrugged and shook his head. He didn't raise his eyes to hers when he responded.
"Sara, you know, she gets very emotional."
"Are you in denial? No...that's way too analytical. Wow, you got burned bad, huh? Welcome to the club." Catherine heard herself babbling, but she couldn't seem to stop. "I…I got third-degree burns from my marriage. Happens to everybody. Everybody just moves on."
"Good. Let's move on."
Catherine felt the frustration from his evasiveness growing hot inside of her. She was used to his avoidance tactics and she could see right through his current attempt at one. He wasn't very good at concealing things from her.
Never had been.
His discomfort was crystal clear in his expression. She knew he'd rather be looking at a crime scene, at his bug collections or more realistically…doing just about anything else besides discussing this particular topic. And had the situation revolved around something outside of work – something less important – she would have allowed him to escape into happy Grissomland.
But not this time.
Catherine was not going to stand back and allow one of the best CSI teams to fall apart simply because Gil was neurotic when it came to handling personal issues.
Especially when they involved him.
"You have to deal with it! You have to deal with it!. You have to deal with it first before it...goes away. You are the supervisor. You have responsibilities and people are making a family around you whether you like it or not, whether you give them permission or not."
Gil began shifting in his seat, his body language telegraphing the obvious fact that he was growing more and more uncomfortable with the discussion. Confusion clouded his eyes. Catherine thought she even saw a little bit of fear mixed in them as well.
"God, Gil. We don't have to go to the Grand Tetons together." She waited until his eyes settled on hers. "Just...every now and then you gotta *lift* your head out of that microscope."
"Yeah." Gil finally relaxed, his muscles loosening as a long sigh slipped from his mouth. "I guess I can understand that."
Catherine stood and walked over to the window. She stared outside for a moment, then turned and collapsed on Gil's couch. She watched as he picked up the phone and dialed. She almost laughed during his conversation – but somehow managed to hold her tongue as he spoke.
"Yeah. Hi. I...I'd like to get some flowers for a girl. Oh, no. Not flowers. Um…uh…uh…a plant. A living plant. She likes vegetation. Yeah, that'd be fine. To Sara Sidle, delivered at the
CSI division of the Las Vegas Police Department. The one out on North Troop Boulevard. Yeah, you can bill me at the same place. Gil Grissom. The sentiment? Oh…oh…on the card. Ummm. Uhhh. Have…have it say…uh…have it say…uh…'From Grissom.' Thank you."
Gil returned the phone to its cradle and turned back to Catherine – who was now laying comfortably on the sofa. She was on her side, head propped up with one hand. The other arm was slung over her hip, hand gripping the glass containing the remainder of her drink. She was grinning at him – eyes flickering mischeviously.
When her smile widened at his voice, he marched across the room to her, arms crossed over his chest.
"Would you mind telling me why you're looking at me like that?"
"It's nice to see that your people skills are just as good over the phone as they are in person."
"Ok, ok. My earlier analogy regarding the CSI team – the whole `family' dynamic thing – made me think of something."
"And?" Gil paused and waited for her to continue. When she didn't, a frustrated groan erupted from him. "Are you going to share with the class, Ms. Willows?"
"Sure." Catherine lifted her drink to her lips and drained the last of it with one long swallow. She leaned over and placed the glass on the small table to the side of the sofa. "But I need to ask you a question first. And you need to answer it truthfully."
"Do I need to place my right hand on the Bible?" One corner of his mouth curled upward in a smirk.
"Ok, ask your question."
"Is there something going on between you and Sara? And I don't mean on a professional level – I mean on a personal one."
"Catherine, come on. Are you serious?"
"Just answer the question, Gil."
"No." He shook his head vehemently from side to side. "No. No. No. I'm her boss…not to mention the fact that I'm much older than she is." Gil took a swallow of his own drink and placed the glass next to Catherine's empty one. "I can't even understand why you would think…what would make you… No. There's nothing *personal* going on between us. Why?"
"I just wanted to be sure."
"Fine, you have your answer. Now what were you going to say?"
"Well, in my `family' analogy, see, you are the father figure. Sara, Warrick and Nick. They are the kids."
"And what about you, Cath? Where do you fall in the `family'."
"Me? Well, I'm the trophy wife, of course." She laughed hysterically. Gil joined in. When their laughter subsided, Gil spoke.
"Funny. But that still doesn't explain why you were looking at me that way."
"Ok, ok. So, I'm the mother here. There was a situation that had to be fixed in the family. And, uh, well, now that you have made an attempt to smooth things over with Sara and since everything else is going well with the other kids, I think it's time to take care of some stuff between mom and dad."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
"I really don't, Cath. We don't have any problems between us that need to be fixed." He stopped for a moment and met her gaze. Her eyes were filled with heat. It seeped into him and coiled hotly within his stomach. He swallowed roughly and spoke. "Do we?"
Catherine's tongue slipped out of her mouth. She ran the tip of it over both lips, moistening them, and patted the sofa next to her.
"Gil, we both know there's something we need to…uh…discuss. Some unresolved issues between the two of us."
Gil rocked anxiously on his feet – left to right and back again. Her eyes were glued to his. The attraction he saw in them was reflected his own. He could feel his eyes filling with it as he stood looking down at her. Electricity crackled between them. It burned through him, gooseflesh rising along his body in its wake.
"Cath, I don't know if it's a good idea."
"Gil." Catherine's eyes moved down his body and stopped at the hard packet of muscle tenting the front of his pants. "It looks to me like at least part of you thinks it's a very good idea."
Embarassment flooded Gil's features.
Catherine reached out and grabbed his hands. She pulled him down on top of her.
"Shut up, Gil. There is obviously something between us. It's been there for awhile. And it's time we settle this."
"What if the team finds out." Gil shuddered as Catherine wrapped her hands around his body. He pushed himself upward and hovered above her, supporting his weight on his arms. "What do we tell them?"
"First of all, we're both consenting adults. What we do on our own time is our business. Besides, I don't think anyone is going to ask. I seriously doubt that they'd even want to know anything about
"Think about it for a minute, Gil."
She lifted her hands to his shirt and began to unbutton it quickly. When she was finished, she pushed it off his shoulders. She reached around his neck and pulled him toward her – close enough that their lips were almost touching. A sly smile spread over her mouth.
"What kid wants to hear about their parents having sex?"