ladyhunter
Head of the Swing Shift
great great great!
I wonder what 'talk' she was going to have with Gil?
this gets better and better
I wonder what 'talk' she was going to have with Gil?
this gets better and better
Through The Looking Glass
- Thread starter CSIMarg
- Start date
CSIMarg
Witness
Granted I’m not exactly in the best mood, but maybe I will feel better after giving this update to you. Oh yes, the talk between Catherine and Gil is coming. Not sure when.
----
“A symbol of love used as a warning sign” Nick indicated as they stepped into the break room, and he stepped to the side as he opened the cabinet and grabbed a coffee cup.
“Whoever put those wedding rings in Jack Malone’s stomach, apparently knew what they were doing” Warrick offered, placing his hands on the counter, his fingers tapping along the edge, in a rhythmic motion.
Nick nodded as he poured himself some coffee, about half full as they continued with the discussion. His brows arched as he turned around, his hand wrapped around the handle of the cup. “Jack works as a spotless business man, and evidently has a clean house as well”
Warrick nodded—but he had his own suspicions about the house—as he opened another cabinet door, and took out a small plate, then rummaged through the small white refrigerator, until he found what he was looking for. “The house must have already been clean enough that nothing looked out of the ordinary”
With a ding, Nick tapped the spoon on the side of his cup. “To them maybe” He took a sip, his features filled with warmth and delight. “What about the wife?”
Warrick’s brow rose, as he poured the contents of beef stew into the bowl. “Practical” He added, placing the used Tupperware into the sink.
* End of Chapter Four! (Finally!)
----
Chapter Five: Broken Horizon
Catherine mindfully checked her watch-- the hands on the clock ticking on beat with the clicking of her shoes-- as she walked down the white and gray colored tile of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Her eyes edged beyond the blue gray wall, as she comprehended the familiar sounds of the building.
Files strewn or stacked across various desks as she passed, reminded her of her own--even settled her into a comfort that she could bury her limits in, and at least for a little while she could breathe without other's concerns. Be able to collect her thoughts, without blame and anguish of what was, or what could have been. Her daughter was her life now, and her work would never replace any part of that love.
She exhaled, rubbing the left side of her forehead, as she walked past the break room and down the hall to her office. Catherine knew her daughter hardly saw her, through the long hours that she worked. Now if only Lindsey knew the time she spent away from her was only what she did so they could survive.
Arching a brow, she sighed as she opened the door to her office. Besides the light that flooded in from the hall, a small light in the corner lit up the darkened room, casting an eerie but consoling shadow, as her eyes scanned over her desk.
There in the middle was a gold lamp, and a small stack of files. In the corner was her computer, the mouse pad her daughter had given her as a present, sat underneath the wireless mouse nearby. Various pictures of Lindsey were framed, and set in clear view on the desk.
Closing the door to her office, she took one frame, particularly her favorite into hand. She smiled warmly seeing her daughter with a white milkshake mustache, as they faced the other and laughed.
Catherine remembered that summer day had been hot, and they stopped to get milkshakes on the way home from the fair. Lindsey had gotten just a plain vanilla one, while she had a small chocolate shake, and Eddie had gotten raspberry.
As soon as Eddie had handed Lindsey her shake, she dodged right into before they could pick out a table. Before they knew it, she had gotten vanilla all over her upper and lower lips. They had wiped off most of it as soon as they had sat down, but Eddie inisted not to wipe off her upper lip just yet because he wanted to take a picture.
She agreed and he took her picture with the camera before Lindsey inisted that her mother join her. Eddie was laughing as he joined in with Lindsey's pleadings. "Yeah momma please" He reiterated--but all Catherine could do was roll her eyes and laugh, before finally giving in.
But when the picture had been developed, it turned out to be one of Catherine's favorites.
----
“A symbol of love used as a warning sign” Nick indicated as they stepped into the break room, and he stepped to the side as he opened the cabinet and grabbed a coffee cup.
“Whoever put those wedding rings in Jack Malone’s stomach, apparently knew what they were doing” Warrick offered, placing his hands on the counter, his fingers tapping along the edge, in a rhythmic motion.
Nick nodded as he poured himself some coffee, about half full as they continued with the discussion. His brows arched as he turned around, his hand wrapped around the handle of the cup. “Jack works as a spotless business man, and evidently has a clean house as well”
Warrick nodded—but he had his own suspicions about the house—as he opened another cabinet door, and took out a small plate, then rummaged through the small white refrigerator, until he found what he was looking for. “The house must have already been clean enough that nothing looked out of the ordinary”
With a ding, Nick tapped the spoon on the side of his cup. “To them maybe” He took a sip, his features filled with warmth and delight. “What about the wife?”
Warrick’s brow rose, as he poured the contents of beef stew into the bowl. “Practical” He added, placing the used Tupperware into the sink.
* End of Chapter Four! (Finally!)
----
Chapter Five: Broken Horizon
Catherine mindfully checked her watch-- the hands on the clock ticking on beat with the clicking of her shoes-- as she walked down the white and gray colored tile of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Her eyes edged beyond the blue gray wall, as she comprehended the familiar sounds of the building.
Files strewn or stacked across various desks as she passed, reminded her of her own--even settled her into a comfort that she could bury her limits in, and at least for a little while she could breathe without other's concerns. Be able to collect her thoughts, without blame and anguish of what was, or what could have been. Her daughter was her life now, and her work would never replace any part of that love.
She exhaled, rubbing the left side of her forehead, as she walked past the break room and down the hall to her office. Catherine knew her daughter hardly saw her, through the long hours that she worked. Now if only Lindsey knew the time she spent away from her was only what she did so they could survive.
Arching a brow, she sighed as she opened the door to her office. Besides the light that flooded in from the hall, a small light in the corner lit up the darkened room, casting an eerie but consoling shadow, as her eyes scanned over her desk.
There in the middle was a gold lamp, and a small stack of files. In the corner was her computer, the mouse pad her daughter had given her as a present, sat underneath the wireless mouse nearby. Various pictures of Lindsey were framed, and set in clear view on the desk.
Closing the door to her office, she took one frame, particularly her favorite into hand. She smiled warmly seeing her daughter with a white milkshake mustache, as they faced the other and laughed.
Catherine remembered that summer day had been hot, and they stopped to get milkshakes on the way home from the fair. Lindsey had gotten just a plain vanilla one, while she had a small chocolate shake, and Eddie had gotten raspberry.
As soon as Eddie had handed Lindsey her shake, she dodged right into before they could pick out a table. Before they knew it, she had gotten vanilla all over her upper and lower lips. They had wiped off most of it as soon as they had sat down, but Eddie inisted not to wipe off her upper lip just yet because he wanted to take a picture.
She agreed and he took her picture with the camera before Lindsey inisted that her mother join her. Eddie was laughing as he joined in with Lindsey's pleadings. "Yeah momma please" He reiterated--but all Catherine could do was roll her eyes and laugh, before finally giving in.
But when the picture had been developed, it turned out to be one of Catherine's favorites.
MacsGirlMel
Mac's Personal Assistant
awww....please continue soon!
ladyhunter
Head of the Swing Shift
That is great!
I love the milkshake picture
I love this story it gets better and better
I love the milkshake picture
I love this story it gets better and better
CSIMarg
Witness
Things have finally slowed down--that and I finally got internet, so now I can update pretty much whenever I want, and more often And thanks guys, I appreciate that.
----
Both exchanged looks. That was a new piece of information they didn’t know. “New arrival? So your sister was expecting?”
Rachel eyes darted back towards them. She as well had been excited for the new arrival, and couldn’t been happier for her sister and brother-in-law. The days of Bridgett not feeling well, and not quite on target like she would have liked to have been, came in the form of relief and a surprise for her family. “Seven months today” She answered quietly, her mind unwrapping the pain of the questions asked.
And although she understood why they would have asked some of these questions, she didn’t get how they were leading them any closer to her family’s killings, or to where her nephew who was still possible alive, and out there somewhere.
Jim noted the look, and knew he had seen it many times. Every question asked, he knew, was like ripping a paper to shreds—even though it was her heart that was really being ripped out.
He knew it was hard for Rachel to just stand here and to feel helpless, while they asked questions that didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere, or to the point that they wanted to be. “Thank you, we’ll be in touch.” He offered in a heartfelt sympathetic tone. And nothing more, as he could make no promise or guarantee that she could find comfort in what she had lost, or found.
------
“Found a phone charger, book, a bag of cheerios, and a car seat, in Jack Malone’s car.” Greg put bluntly, of his findings.
“But no phone.” Warrick added, placing his bowl in the sink.
“No phone, but I did find a crumpled up paper stuffed underneath the passenger’s seat.” Greg arched a brow, as he placed a wrinkled paper, which had been placed in an evidence bag, onto the counter. “Smith, Malone, and Jackson law firm.” He didn’t have to say that twice.
Warrick looked back, as Nick looked up in interest, “Now we could be getting somewhere”
Greg nodded, eyes twinkling with insight, ”Looks like young Jack was just about to be something more than just a lawyer.”
Both stopped, and stepped over. “He’s taking over the firm” Warrick spoke up first, as they all took interest to the half-crumpled paper.
Nick moved back slightly,“ By the looks of it, Smith owns the firm” He eyed the scribbled signature at the bottom of the page, then noticed the printed name, Alex Smith, underneath.
“A law firm now being given to Malone” Greg chimed in, leaning against the doorframe.
“Which leaves Jackson.” Warrick advanced on the situation. “What about the dirt we found in the house?” He turned towards Greg, in speculation.
“Found traces of rubber, from off the bottom of a shoe” He offered, “The dirt in the front yard that I took from the front garden that I compared to the dirt found inside, matched. Also, I compared the footprint found outside, to several of the footprints, inside. They were both a definite match.” Greg added quickly.
“So whoever was there, was watching beforehand. ” Warrick added, as he walked back over to the sink and rinsed his plate off. “And they probably have a torn up shoe.”
“In addition, the evidence.” Nick finished, with a smirk.
----
No matter how much Catherine didn’t want to accept him, or to give up the painful memories, in all the complicated webs there were in this world, she still loved him—and no matter how long she kept those things secret and bottled in, it would always be hers.
She placed the frame back on the desk, and went around and sat down in her chair. Reaching her hand up she turned on the lamp, which set a little more light into the room. She shook her head lightly, and grabbed a file from the pile, prying it open gently.
In silence, she went over details of the case tying up loose ends, and recorded last minute findings. Then set aside the file, for return in a new pile on the other side of the desk, while her hand then picked up the next file present, she repeated the process, and set that file on top of the other.
Running her thumb, and index finger over her forehead, a profound smile came over her face. Her hand lingered over the receding pile, as she grasped another file and set it in front of her.
Rounding around, she grasped the remote. Her thumb reaching at the gray button, lit up the black CD player behind her, into motion.
With her index finger pushing at the play button, set the music playing—filling the air with no longer silence, but with the sounds of Snow Patrol. Yet it was unusual for her to find comfort in music, even though today it seemed to reassure her of something more.
And as the words of the lyrics played in the background that adjusted to the atmosphere, Catherine turned back towards her desk and opened the next file, as the words parted through the air.
Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
And learn to wear eachother well
And when the worrying starts to hurt
And the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
You can imagine this place
Yeah our secret space at will
Shut your eyes I’ll spin the big chair
And you’ll feel dizzy light and free
And falling gently on the cushion
You can come and sing to me
Shut your eyes and sing to me.
As silence filled the room and the song ended, she let her eyes shut, as she leaned against the palms of her hand—her elbows resting upon the desk for support. She felt herself drifting off, but found the light from the lamp the only thing that she was still keeping her from sleep.
Yet she still found herself drifting, with her eyes still closed—her energy low, from lack of sleep. Her body swayed, in effort to balance her upward motion, the music gradually distancing, as the light seemed to fall deeper, and her dreams poised into consciousness.
Her body felt light, and carefree. Words slipped into mind, but tarried inside. Control seemed to extend to a pause, motions lightly came.
And thanks guys, I appreciate that.----
Both exchanged looks. That was a new piece of information they didn’t know. “New arrival? So your sister was expecting?”
Rachel eyes darted back towards them. She as well had been excited for the new arrival, and couldn’t been happier for her sister and brother-in-law. The days of Bridgett not feeling well, and not quite on target like she would have liked to have been, came in the form of relief and a surprise for her family. “Seven months today” She answered quietly, her mind unwrapping the pain of the questions asked.
And although she understood why they would have asked some of these questions, she didn’t get how they were leading them any closer to her family’s killings, or to where her nephew who was still possible alive, and out there somewhere.
Jim noted the look, and knew he had seen it many times. Every question asked, he knew, was like ripping a paper to shreds—even though it was her heart that was really being ripped out.
He knew it was hard for Rachel to just stand here and to feel helpless, while they asked questions that didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere, or to the point that they wanted to be. “Thank you, we’ll be in touch.” He offered in a heartfelt sympathetic tone. And nothing more, as he could make no promise or guarantee that she could find comfort in what she had lost, or found.
------
“Found a phone charger, book, a bag of cheerios, and a car seat, in Jack Malone’s car.” Greg put bluntly, of his findings.
“But no phone.” Warrick added, placing his bowl in the sink.
“No phone, but I did find a crumpled up paper stuffed underneath the passenger’s seat.” Greg arched a brow, as he placed a wrinkled paper, which had been placed in an evidence bag, onto the counter. “Smith, Malone, and Jackson law firm.” He didn’t have to say that twice.
Warrick looked back, as Nick looked up in interest, “Now we could be getting somewhere”
Greg nodded, eyes twinkling with insight, ”Looks like young Jack was just about to be something more than just a lawyer.”
Both stopped, and stepped over. “He’s taking over the firm” Warrick spoke up first, as they all took interest to the half-crumpled paper.
Nick moved back slightly,“ By the looks of it, Smith owns the firm” He eyed the scribbled signature at the bottom of the page, then noticed the printed name, Alex Smith, underneath.
“A law firm now being given to Malone” Greg chimed in, leaning against the doorframe.
“Which leaves Jackson.” Warrick advanced on the situation. “What about the dirt we found in the house?” He turned towards Greg, in speculation.
“Found traces of rubber, from off the bottom of a shoe” He offered, “The dirt in the front yard that I took from the front garden that I compared to the dirt found inside, matched. Also, I compared the footprint found outside, to several of the footprints, inside. They were both a definite match.” Greg added quickly.
“So whoever was there, was watching beforehand. ” Warrick added, as he walked back over to the sink and rinsed his plate off. “And they probably have a torn up shoe.”
“In addition, the evidence.” Nick finished, with a smirk.
----
No matter how much Catherine didn’t want to accept him, or to give up the painful memories, in all the complicated webs there were in this world, she still loved him—and no matter how long she kept those things secret and bottled in, it would always be hers.
She placed the frame back on the desk, and went around and sat down in her chair. Reaching her hand up she turned on the lamp, which set a little more light into the room. She shook her head lightly, and grabbed a file from the pile, prying it open gently.
In silence, she went over details of the case tying up loose ends, and recorded last minute findings. Then set aside the file, for return in a new pile on the other side of the desk, while her hand then picked up the next file present, she repeated the process, and set that file on top of the other.
Running her thumb, and index finger over her forehead, a profound smile came over her face. Her hand lingered over the receding pile, as she grasped another file and set it in front of her.
Rounding around, she grasped the remote. Her thumb reaching at the gray button, lit up the black CD player behind her, into motion.
With her index finger pushing at the play button, set the music playing—filling the air with no longer silence, but with the sounds of Snow Patrol. Yet it was unusual for her to find comfort in music, even though today it seemed to reassure her of something more.
And as the words of the lyrics played in the background that adjusted to the atmosphere, Catherine turned back towards her desk and opened the next file, as the words parted through the air.
Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
And learn to wear eachother well
And when the worrying starts to hurt
And the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
You can imagine this place
Yeah our secret space at will
Shut your eyes I’ll spin the big chair
And you’ll feel dizzy light and free
And falling gently on the cushion
You can come and sing to me
Shut your eyes and sing to me.
As silence filled the room and the song ended, she let her eyes shut, as she leaned against the palms of her hand—her elbows resting upon the desk for support. She felt herself drifting off, but found the light from the lamp the only thing that she was still keeping her from sleep.
Yet she still found herself drifting, with her eyes still closed—her energy low, from lack of sleep. Her body swayed, in effort to balance her upward motion, the music gradually distancing, as the light seemed to fall deeper, and her dreams poised into consciousness.
Her body felt light, and carefree. Words slipped into mind, but tarried inside. Control seemed to extend to a pause, motions lightly came.
ladyhunter
Head of the Swing Shift
I love it!
Snow Patrol
I didn't know Catherine liked them
it's great!
Snow Patrol
I didn't know Catherine liked them
it's great!
MacsGirlMel
Mac's Personal Assistant
awww...*hugs Cath*
ladyhunter
Head of the Swing Shift
^^ he he he no worries
your story is awesome
**I too am stuck**
your story is awesome
**I too am stuck**
CSIMarg
Witness
You might recognize this next part from the flashback in chapter three. It's only the start-- Eventually everyone will talk.
---
“It’s really pouring now” Sara commented, as Gil walked into the break room, and went straight over to the full coffeepot, before opening the cupboard above and grabbed himself a nice mug.
Gil arched his brow and chuckled softly, as he gazed over at her, while her brown eyes stared at the rain drizzling down upon the building’s windows. His eyes went from the curvy patterns as the rain fell briskly out of view, back on to her as he nodded. “We know one thing it’s good for though --” He added, looking from the corner of his eye, and gripped his hand tightly around the handle of the pot, while holding the cup with his other hand.
She took her gaze off of the window and smirked, before she had even established her attention upon him. Her brow arched in interest as her smirk turned into a soft smile, as she now saw one steaming mug of coffee in a navy blue mug sitting securely on top of the white countertop, while he retrieved another mug from the cupboard.
Her gaze seemed to hold him fixated as he carefully pulled out an Indian red, colored mug; in fact such a beautiful color for such a gloomy and well started day. Only to say it really hadn’t started that well, and now well—it was raining, and it had been a long day—a very long day.
So even after uncomprehendingly gazing in her direction, his eyes swimming deep in her chocolate brown eyes, he could see her focus drowning out the rain that drummed rhythmically against the window, as they stared at him, then broke to look at her empty hands that sat in her lap.
He used this brief moment to pour the other cup of coffee, then walked over and handed it to her as she broke away her sudden gaze upon on the wall. She looked at him with small smile and a thank you, as she took cup graciously into hand.
“I needed this” She gestured to the cup, then took a sip, and the room became silent again; beside the pitter-patter sound of the rain, and the few people that were still here in the lab, relaying off important information to one another.
“Knew you would” He smirked, then went back over to the counter and took a sip of his own coffee. Casting his glances here and there towards her tired frame, and knew very well behind the comfort of the couch; legs drawn in towards her body, hands wrapped around the steaming cup, her eyes again gazing out the rain casted window, definitely told him something was on her mind.
He drew a seat comfortably on the small couch horizontally from her, while they dwelled in the silence. He found himself staring out the window, as he drank soft sips of coffee-- his mind compressing over the crime scene, and evidence, besides some other things that happened to come up somewhere along the way.
She let the cup rest in her lap, “Grissom--” Her senses registering on the cinnamon swirl taste. Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, her brown eye squared in question.
Along with her tone assumed, in question, he turned his view away from the frosted window. His breath deeply consumed in a feathered fog, where he had been dwelling. His eyes looked up at her in thought “Sara” He responded, putting one hand underneath his cup.
She paused for a moment. “Get to the coffee pot before Greg?” She quipped lightly, with a smile
“Wouldn’t dream of it” He answered back casually, his eye catching the falling rain outside the window.
----
---
“It’s really pouring now” Sara commented, as Gil walked into the break room, and went straight over to the full coffeepot, before opening the cupboard above and grabbed himself a nice mug.
Gil arched his brow and chuckled softly, as he gazed over at her, while her brown eyes stared at the rain drizzling down upon the building’s windows. His eyes went from the curvy patterns as the rain fell briskly out of view, back on to her as he nodded. “We know one thing it’s good for though --” He added, looking from the corner of his eye, and gripped his hand tightly around the handle of the pot, while holding the cup with his other hand.
She took her gaze off of the window and smirked, before she had even established her attention upon him. Her brow arched in interest as her smirk turned into a soft smile, as she now saw one steaming mug of coffee in a navy blue mug sitting securely on top of the white countertop, while he retrieved another mug from the cupboard.
Her gaze seemed to hold him fixated as he carefully pulled out an Indian red, colored mug; in fact such a beautiful color for such a gloomy and well started day. Only to say it really hadn’t started that well, and now well—it was raining, and it had been a long day—a very long day.
So even after uncomprehendingly gazing in her direction, his eyes swimming deep in her chocolate brown eyes, he could see her focus drowning out the rain that drummed rhythmically against the window, as they stared at him, then broke to look at her empty hands that sat in her lap.
He used this brief moment to pour the other cup of coffee, then walked over and handed it to her as she broke away her sudden gaze upon on the wall. She looked at him with small smile and a thank you, as she took cup graciously into hand.
“I needed this” She gestured to the cup, then took a sip, and the room became silent again; beside the pitter-patter sound of the rain, and the few people that were still here in the lab, relaying off important information to one another.
“Knew you would” He smirked, then went back over to the counter and took a sip of his own coffee. Casting his glances here and there towards her tired frame, and knew very well behind the comfort of the couch; legs drawn in towards her body, hands wrapped around the steaming cup, her eyes again gazing out the rain casted window, definitely told him something was on her mind.
He drew a seat comfortably on the small couch horizontally from her, while they dwelled in the silence. He found himself staring out the window, as he drank soft sips of coffee-- his mind compressing over the crime scene, and evidence, besides some other things that happened to come up somewhere along the way.
She let the cup rest in her lap, “Grissom--” Her senses registering on the cinnamon swirl taste. Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, her brown eye squared in question.
Along with her tone assumed, in question, he turned his view away from the frosted window. His breath deeply consumed in a feathered fog, where he had been dwelling. His eyes looked up at her in thought “Sara” He responded, putting one hand underneath his cup.
She paused for a moment. “Get to the coffee pot before Greg?” She quipped lightly, with a smile
“Wouldn’t dream of it” He answered back casually, his eye catching the falling rain outside the window.
----
MacsGirlMel
Mac's Personal Assistant
Grrr it won't let me post! Please continue soon!
CSIMarg
Witness
A little pick me up-- maybe after my run I'll have more inspiration to write.
----
Picking up the files from off her desk, she made her way out into the hall—manila files thrown into one messy pile with her hands wrapped around them. In her broken manner, she couldn’t help picturing what would happen if she did drop them, and she held on tighter, as the clicking of her heels echoed past the white walls, and tile floors.
“Catherine!” Her eyes closed, as her grip loosened slightly on the files, she could feel them slipping from her grasp, so she shifted them farther into her arm when she turned around. “Hey” She could feel the concern in the tone of his voice-- her gaze falling right into check with Warrick Brown.
“Hey yourself” She answered steadily, arching a brow. As she didn’t already know that the world evolved in little circles, she wouldn’t have to ask where this conversation was going.
----
Picking up the files from off her desk, she made her way out into the hall—manila files thrown into one messy pile with her hands wrapped around them. In her broken manner, she couldn’t help picturing what would happen if she did drop them, and she held on tighter, as the clicking of her heels echoed past the white walls, and tile floors.
“Catherine!” Her eyes closed, as her grip loosened slightly on the files, she could feel them slipping from her grasp, so she shifted them farther into her arm when she turned around. “Hey” She could feel the concern in the tone of his voice-- her gaze falling right into check with Warrick Brown.
“Hey yourself” She answered steadily, arching a brow. As she didn’t already know that the world evolved in little circles, she wouldn’t have to ask where this conversation was going.
ladyhunter
Head of the Swing Shift
is there more?
CSIMarg
Witness
Yeah sorry, it doesn't help that I keep getting stuck and the fact that my updates keep getting shorter and shorter, or that I'm paranoid because I keep thinking I'm going out of line with the characters--yep that definitely calls for me being paranoid. :devil:
----
He shifted, noticing the full load of files in arm. ”You alright with those?” He gestured to some of the files.
“Yeah, I was just finishing up—and about to put these on Grissom’s desk” She reflected, walking aimlessly closer to Gil’s open door. “How’s your case going?” She inquired, diverting the situation as she walked into the office they all knew too well.
Warrick arched a brow, and exhaled. “Its going” He leaned against the doorframe, as she set the files down with a light thud, “Catherine,” He began, as she readjusted one of the files that had slipped out of the pile. After she turned around, her expression filled with a quiet challenge, he inquired “You had dinner yet?”
----
He shifted, noticing the full load of files in arm. ”You alright with those?” He gestured to some of the files.
“Yeah, I was just finishing up—and about to put these on Grissom’s desk” She reflected, walking aimlessly closer to Gil’s open door. “How’s your case going?” She inquired, diverting the situation as she walked into the office they all knew too well.
Warrick arched a brow, and exhaled. “Its going” He leaned against the doorframe, as she set the files down with a light thud, “Catherine,” He began, as she readjusted one of the files that had slipped out of the pile. After she turned around, her expression filled with a quiet challenge, he inquired “You had dinner yet?”
MacsGirlMel
Mac's Personal Assistant
Yays, YoBling