To the Day [CSI; Grissom/Catherine]
TITLE: To the Day
FANDOM: CSI
PAIRING: Grissom/Catherine
SPOILERS: None; fourth-season-ish AU
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: No one but them understands. To everyone else, the tradition is seen as a little strange -- after all, they've never dated, been married to each other or even shared a kiss. But to them, their anniversary is important.
*****
They always celebrate their anniversary. As the years pass, they tend to forget about birthdays, and sometimes major holidays if their work demands their attention... but they never forget their anniversary. It just seems natural to celebrate such an important day.
No one but them understands. To everyone else, the tradition is seen as a little strange -- after all, they've never dated, been married to each other or even shared a kiss. But to them, their anniversary is important.
They always celebrate with dinner. Occasionally he stops by her place, but more often than not, they end up at his. He has used their anniversary as an excuse to hone his culinary skills, and this year he decides to impress her with grilled salmon.
She opens a bottle of Pinot Grigio while he prepares their dinner. They chat amiably and she watches him as he works. She's always loved watching him when he works, no matter what he's doing. He puts the same amount of concentration and inward analysis into cooking their dinner that he puts into scrutinizing a crime scene.
She makes a joke that if she knew he could cook so well, she would've married him years ago. He smiles, but she catches a hint of sadness in his eyes and she hides her fading smile in her wine glass. Perhaps it was the wrong kind of joke to make on a night like tonight.
Though they've never dated, been married, or even kissed, it isn't as if they never had the opportunity. When they seemed to reach the line, one or the both of them would always step back, each too afraid to cross it, not wanting to sacrifice the harmony of their friendship.
When dinner is ready, they sit down at his small dining table and begin to eat. They always promise on their anniversary never to talk about work, but more often than not... their work is all they have. Her daughter is off living her own life, evolving as a teenager, and he shares his home with nobody but his bugs. And she banned mention of his insects during dinner on their fifth anniversary. Fifteen years later, he still knows better than to bring it up.
Though he does manage to sneak in a quick tease that he'll let her hold his tarantula later, and she chucks a piece of steamed asparagus at him in response while they share a grin and a laugh.
After dinner, she offers to do the dishes and he politely declines, ever the gentleman. Instead, he requests that she keep him company while he quickly washes them. She is happy to oblige, and takes a seat on one of his bar stools while refilling their wine glasses.
When he's finished, and has dried his hands thoroughly on his favorite dish towel, they toast to twenty years of friendship and clink their wine glasses together, smiling at each other over the rims as they each take a sip. Then, he gestures to the couch and she takes the lead, making herself comfortable and holding his wine glass for him while he heads for the stereo.
Music that is unmistakably from the 1980s filters out and she nearly splutters on her wine in mid-sip. Not exactly mood music, she teases him, and he simply smiles, returning to her side and taking his wine glass from her fingers.
You don't remember this song, do you?
She shakes her head in the negative and he smiles, expecting as much. He's the one with the nearly-eidetic memory, after all. Then he reminds her that it was the song that played when they were first introduced to one another; she asks him how he remembers, and his smile is directed down into his wine glass before he sets it down on a nearby coaster.
When he speaks again, it's to the tune of the song, singing the lyrics to her softly:
You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you...
She smiles, ducking her gaze and looping a slice of red-blonde hair behind her ear before she looks up to meet his grin. She nods, filling in the next line for him, though she knows her voice is just slightly off-key:
I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around, turned you into someone new.
He nods, and tells her he remembers the song because its opening lyrics perfectly encapsulated that first happenstance meeting -- she had been working as a cocktail waitress at the French Palace when he had been sent in to investigate the death of a bouncer. And according to him, meeting her turned him into someone new.
They listen to the song in its entirety before he turns the stereo off; she looks at the clock and realizes they have to be to work in just under two hours. Reluctantly, she tells him she needs to leave, and he understands, though it's obvious to both that they wish to stay together.
She finishes off her glass of wine and makes a joke about not being able to work due to intoxication. He chuckles lightly at the joke and then brushes it off, reminding her that he's the boss, and that they'll be fine.
He walks her to the door next, his hand just barely cupping the inside of her elbow as he does so. She whirls around at the door, one hand behind her on the knob while she smiles at him, thanking him for a wonderful anniversary.
This is how their anniversary celebrations always end. She thanks him, he smiles and nods, and she bestows a kiss upon his cheek before turning to walk out the door.
And so she thanks him. He smiles and nods. She leans forward and bestows a kiss upon his cheek before turning to open the door.
And his hand pushes the door closed, her name tumbling from his lips in a low baritone.
Catherine.
The sound beckons her attention, and she turns to meet his eyes again. As she does, he leans in and gently steals a kiss, breathing in softly through his nose while his hands slide across her waist.
She is frozen in surprise for a moment, eyes closed but brows raised, wondering what's gotten into him. But a split-second later, what's gotten into him doesn't matter, and she returns the kiss, the fingertips of one hand sliding down his cheek and over his beard, finally landing on his chest when he pulls away.
He blinks at her and for once she has no idea what he's thinking. She wants to ask, but has somehow forgotten how to form a coherent thought. So they stare at each other a moment longer and she watches as his eyes bounce between her eyes and her lips.
Finally, he smiles... tells her to ask him how long he's been wanting to do that. Indulging him, she smiles and tilts her head.
How long, Gil? About twenty years?
He nods and kisses her lightly again, adding, to the day, to complete her thought. When he pulls back again, they both smile, the look in both sets of eyes clear.
And this anniversary, they add a new tradition, and decide to turn up a little late to work.
FIN
Like what you've read? Why don't you watch or join the community?
{x-posted to graveshiftcsi}
FANDOM: CSI
PAIRING: Grissom/Catherine
SPOILERS: None; fourth-season-ish AU
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: No one but them understands. To everyone else, the tradition is seen as a little strange -- after all, they've never dated, been married to each other or even shared a kiss. But to them, their anniversary is important.
*****
They always celebrate their anniversary. As the years pass, they tend to forget about birthdays, and sometimes major holidays if their work demands their attention... but they never forget their anniversary. It just seems natural to celebrate such an important day.
No one but them understands. To everyone else, the tradition is seen as a little strange -- after all, they've never dated, been married to each other or even shared a kiss. But to them, their anniversary is important.
They always celebrate with dinner. Occasionally he stops by her place, but more often than not, they end up at his. He has used their anniversary as an excuse to hone his culinary skills, and this year he decides to impress her with grilled salmon.
She opens a bottle of Pinot Grigio while he prepares their dinner. They chat amiably and she watches him as he works. She's always loved watching him when he works, no matter what he's doing. He puts the same amount of concentration and inward analysis into cooking their dinner that he puts into scrutinizing a crime scene.
She makes a joke that if she knew he could cook so well, she would've married him years ago. He smiles, but she catches a hint of sadness in his eyes and she hides her fading smile in her wine glass. Perhaps it was the wrong kind of joke to make on a night like tonight.
Though they've never dated, been married, or even kissed, it isn't as if they never had the opportunity. When they seemed to reach the line, one or the both of them would always step back, each too afraid to cross it, not wanting to sacrifice the harmony of their friendship.
When dinner is ready, they sit down at his small dining table and begin to eat. They always promise on their anniversary never to talk about work, but more often than not... their work is all they have. Her daughter is off living her own life, evolving as a teenager, and he shares his home with nobody but his bugs. And she banned mention of his insects during dinner on their fifth anniversary. Fifteen years later, he still knows better than to bring it up.
Though he does manage to sneak in a quick tease that he'll let her hold his tarantula later, and she chucks a piece of steamed asparagus at him in response while they share a grin and a laugh.
After dinner, she offers to do the dishes and he politely declines, ever the gentleman. Instead, he requests that she keep him company while he quickly washes them. She is happy to oblige, and takes a seat on one of his bar stools while refilling their wine glasses.
When he's finished, and has dried his hands thoroughly on his favorite dish towel, they toast to twenty years of friendship and clink their wine glasses together, smiling at each other over the rims as they each take a sip. Then, he gestures to the couch and she takes the lead, making herself comfortable and holding his wine glass for him while he heads for the stereo.
Music that is unmistakably from the 1980s filters out and she nearly splutters on her wine in mid-sip. Not exactly mood music, she teases him, and he simply smiles, returning to her side and taking his wine glass from her fingers.
You don't remember this song, do you?
She shakes her head in the negative and he smiles, expecting as much. He's the one with the nearly-eidetic memory, after all. Then he reminds her that it was the song that played when they were first introduced to one another; she asks him how he remembers, and his smile is directed down into his wine glass before he sets it down on a nearby coaster.
When he speaks again, it's to the tune of the song, singing the lyrics to her softly:
You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you...
She smiles, ducking her gaze and looping a slice of red-blonde hair behind her ear before she looks up to meet his grin. She nods, filling in the next line for him, though she knows her voice is just slightly off-key:
I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around, turned you into someone new.
He nods, and tells her he remembers the song because its opening lyrics perfectly encapsulated that first happenstance meeting -- she had been working as a cocktail waitress at the French Palace when he had been sent in to investigate the death of a bouncer. And according to him, meeting her turned him into someone new.
They listen to the song in its entirety before he turns the stereo off; she looks at the clock and realizes they have to be to work in just under two hours. Reluctantly, she tells him she needs to leave, and he understands, though it's obvious to both that they wish to stay together.
She finishes off her glass of wine and makes a joke about not being able to work due to intoxication. He chuckles lightly at the joke and then brushes it off, reminding her that he's the boss, and that they'll be fine.
He walks her to the door next, his hand just barely cupping the inside of her elbow as he does so. She whirls around at the door, one hand behind her on the knob while she smiles at him, thanking him for a wonderful anniversary.
This is how their anniversary celebrations always end. She thanks him, he smiles and nods, and she bestows a kiss upon his cheek before turning to walk out the door.
And so she thanks him. He smiles and nods. She leans forward and bestows a kiss upon his cheek before turning to open the door.
And his hand pushes the door closed, her name tumbling from his lips in a low baritone.
Catherine.
The sound beckons her attention, and she turns to meet his eyes again. As she does, he leans in and gently steals a kiss, breathing in softly through his nose while his hands slide across her waist.
She is frozen in surprise for a moment, eyes closed but brows raised, wondering what's gotten into him. But a split-second later, what's gotten into him doesn't matter, and she returns the kiss, the fingertips of one hand sliding down his cheek and over his beard, finally landing on his chest when he pulls away.
He blinks at her and for once she has no idea what he's thinking. She wants to ask, but has somehow forgotten how to form a coherent thought. So they stare at each other a moment longer and she watches as his eyes bounce between her eyes and her lips.
Finally, he smiles... tells her to ask him how long he's been wanting to do that. Indulging him, she smiles and tilts her head.
How long, Gil? About twenty years?
He nods and kisses her lightly again, adding, to the day, to complete her thought. When he pulls back again, they both smile, the look in both sets of eyes clear.
And this anniversary, they add a new tradition, and decide to turn up a little late to work.
FIN
Like what you've read? Why don't you watch or join the community?
{x-posted to graveshiftcsi}