Disclaimer: This story is a sequel to Just Another Girl, so in order to really understand this fic its best if you read the other one first (it's not too long, so read it!). Thanks!

PS- Umm...so since we don't know if Warrick is going to live now thanks to the newest episode, this story is based on the idea that he lives and continues work (just as a lab tech, though)...and we'll say it takes place about two months after he is shot. I realize that this is very unlikely to actually happen in the series, but then again, that's what fanfiction is for!

She's Like the Wind

It must've been the devil who invented alcohol, because nothing could ever feel so sinfully good.

Catherine Willows sipped the blood red wine in her glass, relishing in the bitter sweet sting it left on her tongue. Just like life, she thought with a laugh. Life was always so annoyingly bitter sweet.

She'd been shocked when she had initially heard of the affair between Grissom and Sara, and even more shocked when Sara had suddenly booked it out of Vegas. And again even more amazed when Sara returned, and suddenly she and Gil were ready to be married again.

How nice that everything worked out for them, she thought enviously. She was insanely happy for Grissom and Sara, but couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy over the whole situation. Why had none of her relationships ever worked out? Maybe there was just something inherently wrong with her that made her impossible to love.

With a sigh, she downed the rest of the wine in her glass and reached over to pour herself another. She needed to find another sinner like herself, she smirked. Someone who wouldn't judge her past but instead embrace the good person she had become. At least, she thought she was a good person.

She looked back at the past 15 years of her life and knew herself as at least a half decent person. She took care of her daughter and tried to provide the best for her (even if Lindsey still insisted upon revolting). She'd gotten herself an education in a field that she was passionate about, and had risen through the ranks to one of the top positions. But there had been something missing from her life during those 15 years, something that she pushed away and denied herself, but suddenly she felt she couldn't deny it anymore.

Every woman wanted romance. Every woman wanted love. But not every woman was as tough, as volatile, and as heartbreakingly gorgeous as Catherine Willows. She was always choosing men who seemed to only want her for her body, and rarely for her intellect. And many of them turned tail and ran when she revealed her profession. Law enforcement didn't sit well with most men, especially men with power and control complexes. She needed a man who didn't want to fight for the top, but instead was content with himself and his own choices. She wanted someone who had faced demons, as she had, and who could respect how she had overcome hers.

She took another sip of her wine as her cell phone began to vibrate on the table next to her. With a deep sigh she set her glass down and lifted up her phone.

"This is Catherine."

"Catherine, this is Scott Pruitt, your father's attorney."

Catherine felt a wave of shock pulse through her. "Yes, yes, hello." she replied, her mouth suddenly dry. It had been some time since Sam Braun's death, and his will was undergoing major controversy. Apparently, several of his money grubbing ex-wives were staking claim on his fortune, while Catherine could care less if she ever saw a single cent.

"We have finally come to an agreement in regards to your father's will." Scott said, his voice somewhat sympathetic. "According to the will, you are to receive 1.5 million of Sam's fortune."

Catherine nearly choked at the dollar amount. "Wow, um, well, you can keep it, I don't want any money from Sam."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Catherine, I urge you to take the money. If you don't, it will be allocated amongst all of Sam's ex wives, and I can tell you with sheer honesty that they don't deserve it."

Catherine considered this for a moment. "Is there any way you can just donate my share to charity or something?"

"Unfortunately, no." Scott replied, sounding impatient now. "Catherine, just accept the money and if you want to give it all away so be it, but it has to be you who accepts the money first."

"Alright, fine." Catherine gave in. She winced as she felt a headache coming on.

"I will have the money waiting for you at Sam's bank, so come by at your convenience to sign the paperwork."

Catherine muttered a goodbye and shut off her phone. She felt weary and angry and afraid all at once. She had barely known Sam, and yet he had always told her that he would do right by her. Now she really believed him.

I need another drink, she thought bitterly. She poured more wine into her glass and sat for a moment in silence, letting the effects of the wine calm her thoughts. Suddenly, she heard a key in the front door and heard it swing open. Turning in her seat, she watched as Lindsey stepped in.

"Hey honey." Catherine tried to smile as Lindsey walked towards her.

"Hi." The young girl muttered, her light blond hair up in a ponytail. Catherine marvelled at how beautiful her daughter was becoming, with her ivory skin and light blue eyes.

"Did you have fun at Kristen's house?"

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "Yes, loads. I think I'm just gonna go to sleep now."

Catherine reached out to hold her daughter's hand. "I just found out some important news."

When Lindsey raised an annoyed eyebrow and didn't say anything, Catherine figured it was her cue.

"According to Sam's final will, I am inheriting 1.5 million dollars."

Lindsey's mouth hung open in surprise for a few moments, her little mind racing with ideas of how to spend the cash. "Will you buy me a new car?"

Catherine snorted a laugh. "I figure part of it will go towards your college fund...and the rest I'm donating to charity."

"Mom!" Lindsey cried, disbelief shining on her face. "Why do you always have to be so stupid? Let's get a bunch of new stuff! I know you want new clothes."

"It's not about that Lindsey." Catherine retorted, feeling exhasperated by her daughter's ignorance. "It's very hard for me to accept any money from Sam. He just doesn't feel like a father to me."

"So what. Doesn't change the fact that we're millinonaires now."

Catherine couldn't help but laugh. "We are not millionaires. You are getting 50,000 towards a good college education, and I am giving the rest away. So get over it."

"I can't believe you." Lindsey muttered, clearly angry. "Don't talk to me ever again!"

Catherine felt the sudden urge to rip her hair out. "Fine."

"You're talking to me!" Lindsey yelled as she ran upstairs. Catherine winced as she heard the bedroom door slam.

Teenagers! Catherine thought angrily. Why had no one ever told her how terrible teens could be? Horrible, selfish little brat! Hastily she grabbed the wine bottle and chugged it, only to suddenly choke on the bitterness of it. God, what had she become? Dumping the rest of the bottle down the drain, she stormed up to her own bedroom.

Maybe tomorrow would be an easier day.

0 0 0

His eyes focused in on the microscope as his long fingers gently adjusted the lens. As the image of the strand of hair came into focus, he studied it, then compared it to another hair sample. Match.

Warrick Brown smirked to himself at the little victory. He'd never get over the thrill of solving a case. It created such an adrenaline rush, one that he previously had only received from gambling. But he was trying to put gambling behind him now, and solving cases was just as good. Even now that he had been demoted to lab tech, he still felt that the cases were his own, even if all he did was report the results back to his coworkers.

"Got a match?" Nick asked as he walked into the lab, a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, I did." Warrick replied. "What are you all happy about?"

"You didn't see her?" Nick asked, looking concerned.

"See who?"

"The new tech!" Nick answered happily. "And man is she gorgeous!"

"Does this gorgeous tech have a name?" Warrick laughed.

"Not yet, but I'm about to find out." the grin on Nick's face grew wider as he seemed lost in thought.

"Hmm..." Warrick mused, watching his friend's apparent obsession with the new girl. "Why don't you go ask her out or something?"

"I'll get to it, don't worry." Nick replied confidently, tilting his chin up and smirking. "Just give me time."

Warrick snorted a laugh and returned to his work as his friend strutted out of the room. Nick was such a ladies man, it was amazing he ever got around to doing work at all. He had already flirted with every single girl who worked there, not to mention several women they met through cases. That guy just never stops! Warrick thought with a sigh. Then again, who was he to judge? He'd had his eye on Catherine for years now...

With a smile he pictured her beautiful eyes, and lips...and legs...shaking the thoughts from his head, he cleared his throat and tried to focus on work again. He'd never have her anyways. He didn't deserve someone like Catherine Willows.

It had been nearly two months since the shooting that almost claimed his life. Warrick rubbed his hand over the healing wound on his neck, wincing in remembrance of the pain. Since then he found he didn't trust anyone, especially not people he had originally thought could be trusted. Fortunately, Nick had been walking down the street that night and had heard the shots. If he hadn't, Warrick was certain he would have died that night.

The Undersheriff had been arrested the next day, after Warrick regained conciousness and was able to describe what had happened. And since then, he rarely walked around outside at night, and if he did, he kept his hand on the gun in his pocket.

Shaking away the memories, he began testing the DNA on a sample Grissom had brought him. He sorely wished he was out on the field again, but he had been demoted. He was lucky he had even been let back into the department at all. With a sigh, he began processing the sample and tried to shake all the negative thoughts from his troubled mind.

0 0 0

"We have a date." Sara said happily, smiling with sheer delight. Catherine's lips curved, but the smile barely reached her eyes.

"For the wedding? That's great." She replied, taking a sip from the coffee cup she held in her hand.

"Yeah, next month." Sara shifted her gaze to the carrier beside her that held Claire. The girl slept peacefully, her breathing soft and slow. "I'm going to need help finding a dress...I don't even know where to begin!"

"Honey, don't even worry." Catherine laughed, the sting of jealousy wearing off as the happy thought of marriage came over her. "We should start by getting some magazines. That's how I always decided what kind of dress I wanted. Then we'll go and try some on."

"It's just going to be a small ceremony...you know, I would love it if you would be my maid of honor."

Catherine choked on her coffee and stared at Sara, her mouth hung open in surprise. "Wow, Sara." she replied, wiping coffee from her chin. "I would love to."

With a smile, Sara reached out and held the other woman's hand, her demeanor suddenly serious. "You know, this means we have to shop for two dresses now."

"Then what are we waiting for!" Catherine laughed, feeling suddenly much more cheerful.

Later that night, Catherine stood in front of her closet mirror, the dress she and Sara had picked out for her pressed against her body. Modeling the dress, she tilted her chin and examined the shape of her body beneath the fabric. May be older than some, but definitely in better shape, she thought with a smile. She had always prided herself on self discipline and keeping fit and healthy. Nothing was better at soothing the mind then a strict routine to lose oneself in.

The dress itself was a soft, royal blue silk that hung just below her knees. The front was v-necked with thin straps that wrapped around to then form an open back to the dress that revealed what Catherine had long ago decided was one of her best assets. The sensuous curve of a woman's back was a great way to stop men dead in their tracks. Not that she had ever had much trouble doing that anyways.

Suddenly she felt foolish. Look at yourself, she thought pitifully. You're 45 years old, divorced, with a teenage daughter who insists on hating you. Catherine began to tear the dress off of her body, angered with herself for her fleeting moment of youthfullness. She was no longer young, and no longer allowed to think herself as such. It was time for a change, she realized with a sigh. Something had to change, and fast, or she was sure she would lose it forever.

0 0 0