Natural Progressions

Disclaimer: Mine no! CBS, Anthony Zuiker et al Yes! Pity :o( "I'm Holdin' On To Love (To Save My Life)" belongs to Shania Twain.
Author's Note: Blame Billy, Marg and Shania for these little pieces. They keep Acting these out in my head!
Dedication: To Aby as always and you certainly know why girl! To VividlyBlue for Reading all my crap no matter how bad or sick! LOL


Chapter 13: I'm Holdin' On To Love (To Save My Life)

He should really go and talk to Catherine, but the thought of opening the door and going out into the real world like this terrified him, he'd always managed to hide it, until now. Catherine would know how to handle this, she'd adapted to this so much better than he had or probably ever would. She had been a rock since his revelations and he didn't know how she coped.

He knew the members of his team must have heard some, if not all, of what had transpired but again he couldn't handle facing them, couldn't cope with everyone finding out, not after he'd managed to disguise it for so long.

What he would do without her he didn't know. He didn't need anyone to tell him how lucky he was to have finally made that bond, that connection with her, even if it had taken Eddie's passing to get her to make her move. She was certainly helping him adjust to this, finally. But the timing tonight had been atrocious.

Gil Grissom lay back on the sofa and tried to relax, wondering what the hell he should do now?

I don't need a shrink to tell me what to think
There ain't no missing link in my love life
It's alright, I ain't that uptight
I don't need a psychic 'cause I don't really like it
When someone tries to tell me just what my future holds
I already know
Your love keeps me alive
You're all I need to survive
I got you by my side

Warrick rushed around the corner of the corridor and almost collided with the object of his search. "Catherine," he all but squeaked in surprise.

"And it's nice to see you too, Warrick," she replied a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

The younger man shook his head a smile brightening his face briefly before he became serious. "I think we may have a problem," he paused, "with Grissom."

She heard the uncertainty and confusion in his voice and wondered what her partner had been up to now. "How so?" she asked, staying calm until she knew what was going on.

Warrick sighed, and taking Catherine by the arm started walking back to Grissom's office as he explained.

"The Sheriff turned up about an hour ago," he said in a tight voice. None of the graveyard shift liked Brian Mobley because of the way he treated their boss. So what if Grissom was politically inept? He was employed for his scientific genius not his political savvy.

"He went to Brass' office first and, as I understand it, gave him a right dressing down." Catherine was pleased to see no glee in the younger man's attitude.

The African American and the homicide detective had never been very comfortable with one another, and they'd had an adversarial relationship when Brass had been in charge of the CSI night shift team. Things seemed to be improving all the time, now Brass was back at homicide. The older man had mellowed since being removed from the political cesspool that went with his former position. The one Gil Grissom now held and occasionally found himself mired in.

"Having had his say with our good Captain," Warrick continued, "he went to the boss' office to have his say." She saw anger sparkle in his eyes and his jaw muscles clench. "For about the first ten minutes all we heard was the Sheriff reading the riot act, interspersed with pauses which we took to mean Griss was giving as good as he got." Warrick tightened his hands into fists and a wick grin tilted his lips. "Then the sheriff starts really roaring, blaming the boss for all sorts of things and strides out the office telling Grissom that he'd be back when he's in a more co-operative mood and willing to be more forth coming."

Catherine was furious, but the only signs of it were the flashing in her eyes and the creasing tension lines around them. Sheriff Brian Mobley was a politically absorbed jackass who used to be a half way decent cop.

At least now she could understand why the rest of the team wouldn't want to approach Grissom right now, but she still couldn't see why that would cause a problem. She smiled tightly, unless of course he hadn't handed out the night's duties yet and in that case they would look for her to do their dirty work for them.

"So what's the problem?" she asked, acting innocent and keeping her voice perfectly level.

"Well..." Warrick seemed puzzled and slightly embarrassed by her take on things, "as soon as the Sheriff left Griss slammed the door, locked it and put out the lights," he informed her. Seeing that she was waiting, slightly impatient with him dragging out the explanation, he continued quickly, "We can't get him to open the door or answer his cell and shift's just beginning so we need..."

She raised her hand stemming his words, just as she'd thought, and nodded her understanding. By now they had reached their destination. Catherine got the spare key for the office out of her pants pocket, she motioned for Warrick to stay where he was and entered the lion's den.

"Hit the lights," a voice snapped from the darkness as she closed the door. If the door was locked and someone was still able to enter Grissom knew it could only be Catherine.

She found him lying on the sofa, his left arm draped over his eyes, taking deep calming breaths but they weren't working too well.

At first she thought it must have been one hell of a fight if he was still this agitated, but then she realised he wasn't angry, he was upset.

"Gil, what's going on?" she wasn't used to him wearing his emotions on his sleeve, where anyone could see them, and that worried her. When he didn't reply she walked over to the sofa and sat down beside him, pulling his arm away from his face and looked into his eyes repeating her question.

Grissom cleared his throat and wiped at his face. "You heard about the Sheriff I take it?" he asked his voice almost too quiet to hear. She nodded and waited for him to continue. "Half way through his diatribe my hearing went out on me."

'Well,' thought Catherine, 'that explains his colour and the one sided rant the others heard.' "And?" she asked.

"From what I've been able to piece together he thinks I'm just being my usual obstinate and unco-operative self." She knew there was more to this than just that, so she sat quietly and waited for him to tell it all. "The problem is, he wants answers about three of our more recent cases that some source of his has implied are linked," he looked away from her briefly then back adding, "but I've no idea what two of them are." The fear in his eyes increased as he concluded, "if he mentioned the names I didn't catch them. So what the hell do I do now?"

Catherine could understand his anxiety. Although she knew about his otosclerosis they'd been keeping it quiet from everyone else. Even young Lindsey had no idea, and Gil was practically living with them now. How to find a solution without having to say more to anyone than Gil was ready to reveal?

I'm holdin' on -I'm feeling strong -baby you're the one
For all my life!
Yeah I'm holdin' out -there ain't no doubt -I can't live without
You all my life!
I'm holdin' on to love to save my life

"There's a solution to this," she suddenly realised as she thought about it and told him. "Brass got a similar dressing down," she saw the surprise register on Grissom's face, so he hadn't been aware of that. "I'll just act my usual nosey self and go ask him, after all what are the chances the Sheriff reamed you both out about two totally different subjects?" She smiled, knowing the chances were incredibly small, then she bestowed a chaste kiss on her lover's cheek, they had to get to work now. "But we need to dish out the assignments first."

Grissom rose from the sofa, reluctant to move from the close contact they'd been sharing, and picked the assignment slips up off his desk. He turned toward Catherine who had moved to the door and then hesitated. "I can't..." he said, mild panic reasserting itself, "one question is all it will take for them to realise something is wrong." He looked so disheartened that Catherine had to swallow a lump that stuck in her throat.

He hated being vulnerable and today had been a bad day for it. This was the third time in as many hours that his hearing had gone. It frustrated him. He could go weeks without an episode or days or sometimes like today just hours. There was no rhyme or reason to it so there was no way he could adjust his schedule to fit it or adapt his life around it.

"Warrick's waiting for me," Catherine told him, making sure she remembered to look at him. "I'll give him these and tell him you've got a migraine. That way you can sit in here and relax until this passes then come join us at the scene."

She watched him sigh, the tension easing from his shoulders and the frown disappearing from his face. He gave her one of his little half smiles, knowing exactly what that did to her. "Thanks, Catherine," his voice was soft and full of his emotions, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Catherine chuckled, shrugged her shoulders and answered, "Let's not find out, eh?"

That was a sentiment Gil Grissom could whole-heartedly agree with.

(I'm holdin' on to love to save my life)