Intellectual Itch

Disclaimer: Mine no! CBS, Anthony Zuiker et al Yes! Pity :o(
Dedication: To Aby as always and you certainly know why girl! To Vividlyblue for Being my inspiration and all the encouragement she gives me. And to Erin for all the long distance hand holding and reassuring :o)
Feedback: Yes please but please be kind, I'm nervous! :o) E-mail: KesNaya@aol.com
Archive: anywhere you like but drop me a line to let me know okay!
Author's Note: This one just popped into my head half finished so thought I'd try it out! The <<<<< signify flashback territory.


Chapter 2

They arrived at the CSI building just as the younger members of their team arrived back from the other rape crime scene of the evening; the lady had followed her usual pattern down to the last detail. "Hey Griss, what happened to you?" Warrick asked coming up behind him.

"Flat battery," Catherine answered for him.

Grissom turned to face the others and Nick gasped, "Whoa man, what happened to your face?"

The older man's brow creased into a frown of displeasure, "What about it?"

Not taking the hint to let matters drop Nick continued, "Those scratches look wicked."

"And..." Grissom stated, he was not having this conversation and the sooner the young Texan realised it the better.

Nick shrugged and started to turn away, "And nothing they just look painful."

They all took the hint then and let the night shift supervisor retreat to his office. Grissom knew that all too soon he would have to go to the break room and discuss the night's events. They'd want to know if she had struck again taking her sixth victim. That should mean she would disappear for yet another year.

The fact that the attacker could keep her anonymity when he risked being exposed as one of her victims ate at Grissom. He had never felt so angry in his life and he was finding it difficult to hide it.

Catherine knocked at the door coming in before he had the chance to answer. "I brought you something for those scratches and then the team's waiting for you."

She walked over to him, taking the lid off of the jar she was holding, but when she moved to apply the cream he flinched. "Hey, Gil, it's okay," she said trying to reassure him and cover her surprise. "You're not usually so jumpy."

He nodded and stood still allowing her to smear the scratches on his face with the antiseptic then opened his shirt to see to the others. Normally he would be thrilled to be receiving such attention from her and she knew it but the events of the night were catching up with him.

"Let's get through the briefing and then we can talk about this when we're less likely to be interrupted, okay?" Catherine asked wanting to focus on the work before she let her mind race and rebel at what had been done to her lover.

Grissom agreed. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't complied with his attacker. That he had been faithful to her even in this, but he couldn't find the words. The shame kept getting in his way. Shouldn't a man like him have been able to stop a woman of such slim build, as his attacker appeared to be, from doing what she did?

Entering the break room you could have heard a pin drop and Grissom realised that the occupants had stopped talking the minute the door opened. He tried not to read anything into that but it wasn't easy. He guessed he was being a little paranoid. After all the 'kids' didn't even know there had been a sixth victim yet, let alone that it was him.

"Well?" he asked taking his seat at the head of the table, "did we get anything interesting from the fifth crime scene?"

Warrick sighed noisily but it was Sara who answered, "Just the usual. The man seemed to have quite enjoyed the attention he was given and she left the usual detritus, but nothing that she hadn't given us before." The young brunette was as frustrated as her two male colleagues but she was doing a better job of keeping it under control. "Oh, and she took the usual trophy, a certificate that belonged to the victim, a college one this time, I think?"

Nick nodded his agreement, "So, I guess now we wait and see who number six is?" he asked, though it was a rhetorical question that the others didn't even try to answer.

"Actually," Catherine began looking at Grissom for his approval. He nodded he would rather let her explain things. "Grissom, Brass and I handled number six."

Warrick sat forward, intrigued. He'd heard nothing from dispatch about the sixth victim being reported or taken to hospital for the usual assault kit. "Who was it? Another of her intellectual prizes?"

Grissom gritted his teeth at Warrick's description. He didn't dare show just how angry he was, that would be too out of character and could set them all wondering. If he wanted to keep his secret he would have to play this like any other crime and not get emotional.

"Yes, same victim criteria and same m.o.," Catherine paused, "though this time she scratched the victims abdomen and chest with her nails and the man can't say if she spoke to him or not."

"Why not?" Sara asked, "she spoke clearly enough to the others, even if the accent she used was different all depending whether she was in the North or South of the country."

"He wouldn't elaborate." It was clear what Catherine thought of that and Grissom had to stop himself from wincing. That matter obviously hadn't been settled yet and it was going to plague him when he spoke to her later.

"Are all the samples with Greg?" Nick asked trying to defuse what promised to be a volatile situation if the tension in the break room was anything to go by.

"Yes," Grissom answered him, trying to ignore Catherine's pointed looks.

"Well, we'll go see if we can help him any," Warrick replied and indicated with a nod of his head that they should leave the older two CSIs alone.

They all left their seats and headed for the door, before Grissom could make a break for it Nick stuck his head back in. Stopping his boss and Catherine in their tracks he asked quietly. "I was right wasn't I?"

Grissom frowned deliberately not trying to understand what the younger man was implying. Catherine shook her head, drawing her hand across her throat in a cutting action but Grissom replied to the younger man.

"Right about what?" he asked in a monotone voice, the lack of inflection should have been enough to give Nick the heads up but he ploughed on in regardless.

"You were the sixth victim," he stated pointing to the scratches on his supervisor's face, "That's how you got those."

"And..." Grissom asked, did everyone know without him having to admit anything?

"And nothing," Nick replied, "I won't tell anyone, that's your call but I think you're under estimating us, boss."

And with that the young man marched off to catch up with his two colleagues.

Grissom sighed angrily and shaking his head, hastily sped away from the break room. He thought at first of going to his office but it would be too easy for Catherine to follow him there and he wasn't ready to have the conversation she'd push for. So, instead he headed out to the parking lot and one of the Tahoes.

He'd already borrowed Warrick's keys off of him on the pretext or revisiting the last crime scene and rushed toward the car the younger man normally used, desperate to get away and have some time for himself before the shit hit the fan which it would later this evening. After Greg processed the latest crime scene he would find his DNA all over it and that would be that.

He slammed shut the door and started the engine, before he could back the car out, Catherine was sitting beside him in the passenger seat.

"Going somewhere, Gil?" she asked innocently. She knew he was trying to escape but she wouldn't let him. Catherine had seen the pain and guilt in her lover's eyes and she wasn't prepared to let him mope or belittle himself. She knew he would blame himself for what the woman had been able to do to him, but Catherine knew that wasn't his fault and she also knew she had to find some way to prove that to him.

"Can't this wait?" Grissom asked struggling to keep his voice neutral. He refused to fall apart here in the parking lot where the others could easily find them.

"Just drive and we'll talk," Catherine told him, she reached her hand out but didn't touch him when she saw him flinch, "Gil, you didn't do anything wrong," she said forcefully, praying that just this once he'd believe her.

"Then why do I feel so guilty?" the shame was clear in his voice and he wiped at his eyes, angry at the tears that threatened to fall.

Catherine hated seeing him like this, even though she felt privileged that he would allow himself to show his feelings in front of her, but to see him so reduced, so hurt, it was heart wrenching. "It's a testosterone thing," she told him, trying to shock him out of it and get him to look at it professionally, "you're a man she was a mere woman, you think you should have been able to best her. Even though she held the upper hand from the beginning."

He looked at her for long enough that she had to grab the steering wheel to prevent the car veering into on coming traffic. "Sorry," he mumbled, dragging his eyes away from her and back to the road. 'A testosterone thing?' he thought shocked at what she'd said, 'was that all this was to her... a joke?'

She watched his face cloud over and realised her attempt at levity had been ill timed. "It's all right, Gil," she said, "you're allowed to feel angry and upset, it's only to be expected."

Of course she was right but that didn't ease his anxiety and shame. Didn't make him feel any better about himself. He also knew how Catherine's mind worked. It wouldn't take her long to pounce on the ambiguity of his earlier statements.

Seeing she wasn't getting anywhere, she decided to attack. "Why did she scratch you?" she saw the dread in his eyes. "I don't think it was just because you didn't join in with her little plan for the evening."

Grissom gave a brief sigh of relief; he should have known she would trust him. That she would know he wouldn't comply with anything the rapist would want, that he could be true to her and their relationship.

"Why don't you know what she said?" Catherine asked again, "or if she said anything, what are you hiding, Gil?" her worry made her anger sound more vehement and it stung him, making his own ire rise.

"Look, just leave it, I didn't hear what she said, okay?" he all but growled at her.

When she grabbed for the steering wheel and guided them into a parking lot he stared at her furious.

"What do you think you're doing?" he couldn't believe how angry he was feeling. He never let his temper get the better of him so why was it so hard to control now?

"Gil, what's going on?" Cath demanded, "why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"God, Cath, let it go, please?" he felt his teeth gritting, his palms sweating and his head and heart were pounding.

"Tell me Gil?" She snapped directly in his face knowing anger was the only way he would let slip what was bothering him. "Why didn't you hear what she said?"

"Because I didn't hear anything" he roared a sob catching in his throat," I couldn't hear her because I'm going deaf, all right?" he felt the tears fall down his cheeks. God why had he said that? Why had he told her? It was the last thing he had wanted to air now.

"You're going deaf..." Cath said in stunned amazement and then snapped back, "damn, of course, why didn't I realise this before?" she was so angry with herself for leaving him to deal with this alone. All the signs had been there and she'd missed them. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked him, her voice much more gentle, "why keep it from me?"

He tried to stem the flood of tears trailing down his face and get his emotions back under control, but tonight's events had just been too much for him and he felt strangely broken. "I just kept hoping it would all go way," he gave a rueful half laugh, "I prayed I'd wake up one morning and find it had all been a bad dream, a nightmare." He hated the way he sounded, so childish and naïve. What sort of scientist was he trying to live in a world of make believe, but it was so easy to let yourself be fooled when it was about something you didn't want to deal with.

"How long have you known?"

Grissom sat slumped in the driver's seat not wanting to look at her. "I've known it was possible most of my life," he said, "genetics, my mother is deaf," he explained unsure if he'd ever told her that or not. She didn't seem surprised so maybe he had. "It's been a fact now for six months."

"And you've kept it all to yourself, that must have been hard?" she stated more than asked but the question was still there. "Some friend I've been, but you must have known you could confide in me, Gil, that it wouldn't make any difference to me?" there was a not of anxiety in her voice, didn't he trust her?

He looked up at her, tear drops sparkling on his eyelashes and cheeks, his eyes an almost desolate grey in colour as he tried to shut his emotions down, leave his feelings to deal with when he was more settled. "I don't know anything right now, Cath," he answered her, seeing the shock on her face but continuing before she could say anything, "I can't even gage my own feelings in this so how could I even guess how you and the others would feel?"

The look of pain and compassion that mingled with her features was real and honest, he continued, "You say it doesn't make a difference to you but it does to me," he looked at his hands clasped tightly around the steering wheel and tried to make them relax, "I'm not the same man I represented myself to be when this relationship began, and after tonight I'm not sure when I'll ever be."

She was shocked, by his openness, by his unfailing honesty despite how much it was hurting him and by his willingness to let her so close. She had to find a way to reach him now before she lost him.

"Gil, we al change every day of our lives," she began, peeling both of his hands from the steering wheel and holding them in hers, making him face her, "everything we do and see in this job effect who and what we are so neither of us is the person we were when this started, but part of being together is learning to be there for one another, learning to cope with what is thrown at us and learning to help the other cope."

Grissom looked from their hands clasped together to her eyes, brimming with unshed tears and love. "Let me help you adjust and in that way we'll both learn together and grow together."

His body began to relax at her words and she felt the tension ease from his hands as a small half smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, "How do you do that?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Do what?" she asked uncertain of what he meant and unwilling to say the wrong thing.

"Manage to find the right words to glue me back together when I start to fall apart?" he said squeezing on her hands, his lifeline to sanity once more restored, and then relaxing again when she smiled.

She looked at him for a moment, thinking of the few times she had seen him react like this. He was so reserved, so well contained it was nice to see that he could be human and to know he relied on her like this. "You're a complicated man, Gil Grissom, especially to those who don't take the time to get to know you," she told him, "there isn't much that escapes that façade you show the world, but I'll always find my way through it to the real you," she leaned forward and kissed him, relieved that this time he didn't pull away from her, retreat behind that very façade. "It's what assures me that we're two halves of the same whole," she added smiling at him.

He sighed contentedly, his smile deepening and his eyes returning to their startling blue, "I suppose we should get back and it's time for me to face the music," he said reluctantly, unsure of the reactions he would get from his team.

"We do this together, one step at a time," Catherine reassured him, "I think you'll be surprised," she saw indecision flutter across his face, "like Nick said, don't underestimate them."

Gil nodded and, returning his hands to the wheel, headed them back to Criminalistics.

They arrived back at HQ and walked into the lay out room to join the rest of their team. Catherine opened the door just in time to hear Sara comment.

"You know this last victim is slightly different to her other five," the brunette was looking at a picture of Grissom's abdomen and chest, although of course she had no way of knowing it.

"How so?" Nick asked not noticing Warrrick acknowledge the arrival of the two senior CSIs.

"Better physique," she answered. Then both she and Nick jumped as Grissom said.

"Now, Sara, don't speak of the victims that way," he didn't seem angry but there was a strange note in his voice.

"I know," the younger woman intoned, "give them their dignity and respect." She seemed quite subdued.

Catherine looked at Gil, a smile brightening her face and a question in her eyes. He gave a rueful grin and nodded. "Well especially not right in front of the vic," she said a subtle laugh in her voice.

"Eh?" Warrick and Sara replied in unison and Nick's face took on a look of disbelief that then settled into one of pride and satisfaction.

"I'm victim number six," Grissom owned up, feeling more than a little nervous and embarrassed, but both Cath and Nick had told him to trust his team and he knew he should.

"Finally decided to be honest with us," Nick stated and before his boss could answer the two other juniors pounced on the Texan's statement.

"You son of a..." Warrick started but didn't finish, standing glaring at his friend.

"You mean you knew and didn't say anything?" Sara growled, equally angry.

Grissom suddenly realised that Nick had done this deliberately. Channelled the expected surprise and annoyance away from his boss until things settled. He looked at Catherine his face a picture of genuine astonishment. She merely smiled and nodded.

Before things could get too out of hand, Grissom spoke up, "Nick confronted me with his suspicions earlier and I refused to confirm or deny them," he told them all, "it was hardly his place to speak up."

Each of them turned and looked at him and he noticed a moment of hurt on their faces, "I didn't tell any of you immediately because I needed time to come to terms with it first."

That seemed to satisfy them until Warrick asked the question Grissom had been dreading, "But why didn't you hear what she said?"

Gil hesitated trying to think of a decent answer that wouldn't sound too contrived. He still didn't want everyone knowing about his impending deafness, not yet, he still needed time on that one. Catherine stepped in before the silence could last too long, "Earplugs!"

Earplugs?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yes," she answered looking him straight in the eye, "surely you've all heard him complaining for the last week about them digging up the road and sidewalk outside his apartment?" she indicated Gil as she spoke. She and Grissom stood watching the other three exchanging glances with one another as they realised the truth of this statement and Gil had never been more thankful for an inconvenience in his life.

"Well, the attacker had no way of knowing he was wearing them and he had no way of removing them," it was all so plausible it was almost laughable, but the younger CSIs accepted it.

Relief flood Grissom at their acceptance, Catherine was certainly his lifesaver especially tonight. He was, however, curious to notice that none of them asked about the scratches, were they all so sure of why he'd received them? Did he come across as that uptight? Well, he sighed, if he did so be it. The most important person in his life right now knew differently and that was all that mattered.

"Greg's still working on the DNA," Warrick informed them, "but he doesn't really expect to get anything new."

Sara shook her head, annoyed, "So she gets away scot free again then?"

"For now," was Grissom's only reply.

"Hey boss?" Nick began, "if you've been the victim of a crime shouldn't you be off the clock for tonight at least?"

"He certainly should be," a voice intoned from the doorway and they turned to see Captain Brass standing there, "further more as your apartment is officially still a crime scene you can't spend the night there either."

Grissom suppressed a shudder, going back to his townhouse was not high on his list of priorities tonight, but if they were going to force him out the door where else could he go?

"Fine," Catherine stated, surprising everyone, "I'm only supposed to work a half shift tonight anyway, so you can come and rest at my place."

Face flushing slightly, Grissom suddenly remembered she was right. Tomorrow was Lindsey's sports day and Catherine always took a half days holiday so she could be fresh and alert when she attended.

"Good, I'm glad that's settled then," Brass replied, "get him out of here so he can recuperate." From the sly grin he flashed at the strawberry blonde, Jim Brass knew exactly what sort of recuperation Cath had in mind for the blue-eyed man and she didn't even try to convince him otherwise.

"That's an order I'll be happy to comply with," she said chuckling and taking Gil by the hand lead him out of the door.