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Butterfly and the Sun
GENRE: GCR (don't worry!)
SPOILERS: "Butterflied" (sort of, but only vaguely)
RATING: PG (I promise I'll work on some more smutty ones for the future...)
SUMMARY: A brief vignette from Catherine's perspective. It starts out bleak, so now that you've been warned, don't come
at me with torches and pitchforks. I promise you'll get what you want. Also includes lyrics from "Everytime" by
Britney Spears (which are italicized... also asterisked for those that can't see the formatting).
Her blue eyes followed his movements on the other side of the room, watching him go for the coffee machine and pour himself
a cup without so much as even glancing her way. She concentrated on his form, willing him to turn his face to hers... to acknowledge
her presence.
*Notice me...*
She felt herself unconsciously reaching her hand out, as if she could touch him from where she was, then drew it back
in close to her body, realizing it would do no good. Hers wasn't the hand he wanted to take now.
*Take my hand...*
She felt the tears sting her eyes, and she choked back the sob creeping up her throat, wondering when it went so wrong.
Wondering when exactly in their eighteen years of friendship they suddenly became strangers to each other. When he suddenly
started ignoring their bond... that strong bond of unspoken love that had held them together from the beginning.
*Why are we strangers when our love is strong?*
<<Why is he doing this?>> her mind questioned while her brow furrowed, her eyes still trained on him, putzing
around by the coffee maker. Why did his mid-life crisis have to hit NOW, when she was so close to revealing her feelings for
him? And why, during this insane mid-life freakout, did he have to choose HER... the mouthy brunette that threw a tantrum
when things didn't go her way?
*Why carry on without me?*
She closed her eyes and shook her head, rising from her chair and practically bolting to the locker room, realizing the
sobs threatening to overtake her could no longer be pushed aside.
*Everytime I try to fly, I fall without my wings*
She needed him back... it was as simple as that. She needed the power to turn back time and make him hers, before he could
get himself worked up about that stupid case, and about that stupid victim that just happened to look like stupid Sara. She
knew the thoughts were childish, but she didn't care. She was past the point of worrying over coming off as petty or vindictive.
*I feel so small... I guess I need you, baby*
This bullnuts charade had been going on for five days now, and for the past four nights he'd haunted her dreams. His face
would hover in some strange mist, taunting her... reminding her just how cowardly she was for never telling him she loved
him.
*And everytime I see you in my dreams... I see your face, it's haunting me*
When the locker room door closed behind her, she collapsed on the bench and began to cry.
*I guess I need you, baby*
Trudging through the door, she dropped her bag onto the couch, kicking her shoes off, indifferent as to where in the room
they ended up. Glancing around her empty house, she wished for her daughter to be there instead of at school. If Lindsey were
there, she wouldn't be imagining HIM standing there with her.
*I make believe that you are here. It's the only way I see clear*
Why did she point out how much the victim looked like Sara? Why couldn't she have kept her d**n mouth shut? Perhaps it
was all her fault... perhaps if she had just kept quiet, he would've finished the case without taking much notice.
*What have I done?*
She then scolded herself. <<No way...>> she thought ruefully, knowing all-too-well how detail-oriented Grissom
was. He would've noticed eventually, even if she hadn't pointed it out. She just never dreamed that such a seemingly insignificant
thing as the victim looking like the young CSI would propel her supervisor head-first into a mid-life crisis. Never in a million
years did she dream he would snap his attentions away from her and onto the tall brunette. It was just too quick... too easy.
*You seem to move on easy*
She too felt like her supervisor... being thrust head-first into something she wasn't prepared for... something she couldn't
control. And for her, it wasn't a mid-life crisis. It was reality. She'd been tossed into a sudden, jolting reality. She'd
lost him. The man that held her up all these years, that gave her room to spread her wings, had dropped her to chase another
butterfly.
*Everytime I try to fly, I fall without my wings*
And she couldn't get out of the pit she'd fallen into. Everytime she so much as saw his face... everytime she caught a
glimpse of the smug, smirky-ass look Sara'd been constantly sporting, she shrank a few more inches. And now she felt so small
she was sure that if she were to call to him, it would sound like nothing more than a faint whisper.
*I feel so small... I guess I need you, baby*
And the dreams... those horrible, haunting dreams would not stop. No matter how much she begged... no matter how much
she prayed to the God that was currently snubbing her, the dreams didn't relent. Everytime her eyes succumbed to the weight
of exhaustion, there he was... in all his glory, smirking about his newest conquest that was half his age.
*And everytime I see you in my dreams... I see your face, you're haunting me*
She didn't know how much more she could take. She'd never been one to resort to desperate, selfish thoughts, but she couldn't
help but idly wonder just how affected he would be if she suddenly disappeared? Whether it be through death, or just skipping
town. Would he even notice?
*I guess I need you, baby*
*****
Another sickening scene was in front of her, playing out in the locker room. Sara was standing with her back turned to
the door, reading the small white card she'd plucked from the beautiful plant she'd received. With her back turned and head
bowed, Catherine couldn't decipher what kind of mood she was in, but guessed that since she'd received a present from her
older lover that she was grinning like an idiot. She sighed as discreetly as she could, exiting the way she came in... seemingly
invisible.
*I may have made it rain... Please forgive me*
If she'd only said something sooner, he'd be going through his mid-life crisis at her side, not trying to fulfill some
stupid male fantasy about being with a younger woman. If she hadn't been so blind to the possibilities of where their relationship
had been heading since his surgery, he wouldn't have given up on her. She d**ned herself for being a coward... for being too
weak to confess how she was really feeling.
*My weakness caused you pain, and this song's my 'sorry'*
She set off to work on her newest case, attempting to push thoughts of him to the back of her mind, and silently praying
the mid-life crisis would soon blow over like a Mid-Western tornado.
*****
Carefully she grasped the deadbolt on her door between her fingers, turning it to the other side before slipping her shoes
off and tiptoeing up the stairs. She knew her daughter had already put herself to bed, and felt awful for working a double
shift. She needed her daughter more than anything, now. That was all she had left.
*At night I pray*
Gently pressing a kiss to her forehead, Catherine crept out of her daughter's bedroom and went into her own, slipping
into her pajamas while she said her silent prayer... the one she'd been saying for nearly a week, now...
*That soon your face will fade away*
All the silliness about this 'mid-life crisis'... all the ridiculous looks between him and Sara... all this bogus bullnuts
that felt like one big April Fool's joke. <<Just end it... please...>> she inwardly begged.
*Everytime I try to fly, I fall without my wings*
She needed him back... she needed him in order to fly again. She felt like a butterfly in the summertime, the dew on her
wings holding her to the ground. She needed the sun in order to be free again.
*I feel so small... I guess I need you, baby*
A knock on the door downstairs shot her heart up into her throat, and her pulse began to race as she crept down the stairs,
stretching up on tiptoe to look through the peephole. It was then she saw his face... floating in front of her as if in her
dream.
*And everytime I see you in my dreams... I see your face, you're haunting me*
Pulling her door open, the pair stood and stared at each other momentarily, tears slipping down her cheeks at the sight
of him while he reached his hand out to her. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.
She swatted his hand away. "For what?" she replied, avoiding his eyes. She needed to forgive him... her heart
ached to forgive him... but for some reason her brain wouldn't let her give in so easily.
*I guess I need you, baby*
"I'm sorry for being stupid... for being blind and stupid."
"Yeah, well... boys will be boys," she grumbled, realizing only seconds after the statement left her mouth how
lame it sounded.
"But all boys have to grow up at some time," he countered, earning her gaze in return. "I wanna be a grown-up
now, Catherine."
The look in his eyes was so soft, so apologetic... she whimpered at the sight. "I thought I was your butterfly,"
she suddenly blurted out, weeping softly.
He reached out and pulled her close. "You are, Catherine, you are..." he whispered consolingly, rubbing her
back.
"But Sara..."
"I got caught up with the case," he interjected. "Her resemblance to Debbie completely clouded my better
judgement, and I behaved like every man I've tried my whole life not to be."
She was sure her pulse was flying through the roof at his close proximity, as his hands healed her, and she struggled
to form a coherent sentence. "But in the locker room today, with the plant..."
"My way of letting her down easy," he explained. "I thought I felt something for her that went beyond our
professional boundaries, and I did."
"But--" she began, only to be silenced by his finger on her lips.
A tiny smile escaped as he once again pulled her close. "Please let me finish," he begged, then pressed on when
she nodded, her head resuming its place against his chest. "I do feel something for her that goes beyond the boundaries
of mentor and protege... but I realized that what I was feeling was only how a father feels about his daughter. Nothing more.
The fact that our vic looked so similar to her ate away at me, and I felt like a desperate man confronted with the thought
of losing his little girl. I panicked."
When she was silent for more than a beat, he continued further. "I did take her out on a date, but over the course
of the evening I realized how very wrong it was to be there with her like that. Our evening ended platonically, despite the
blatant advances she was making toward me. For those next few days, she just assumed that a relationship was budding, but
really I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how to tell her I made a mistake."
Having finished everything he needed to say, he waited in trepidation for her response. After a minute or two of tense
silence, she spoke. "So why are you here? And why now?"
"I needed to see you," he confessed. "The past few days have been hell for me, not only because of what
was going on with Sara, but because I was losing you."
She chuckled grimly. "You were losing me? I coulda sworn it was the other way around."
"I hate being without you, Catherine," he whispered against her citrus-scented hair. "Whatever I'm going
through right now, whatever is happening to me, you're the only one that can heal me." And, as if he could read her earlier
thoughts, he whispered even softer, his lips nearing hers, "As much as the butterfly needs her sun in order to fly, the
sun also needs his butterfly... for she is his reason to shine."
THE END
by Caroline
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