Disclaimer: The closest I will ever come to owning these guys is when I get the DVDs. :)

A/N Sorry if it isn't any good. This was just a random idea I got sitting in Costco, eating pizza, staring at a giant display of tampons. I decided to make it a full story, just for the heck of it. ;) Let me know if you love it or hate it.

Oh! and I got the half-definition from some online dictionary that popped up on Google. The definition was actually displayed in the results, so I don't even know what site it came from.

Spoilers: Not a one!


It had started out innocently enough. Catherine and Grissom had been in the locker room, talking, when a couple of loose tampons fell out of Catherine's locker. She bent down to pick them up, not the least embarrassed, but when she saw his face, she burst out laughing.

"What? Embarrassed at seeing what the entire feminine race has to stick in unmentionable places?"

Gil blushed.

Catherine watched in amusement.

"What's the matter, Gil? Do you not like tampons?"

She laughed again as Grissom shuddered.

"Please don't say that word."

"What? 'Tampon'?"

He shuddered again.

"Oh, my God, Gil. I have known you for years. You are not one of those guys who goes running every time someone mentions feminine issues." She paused for a moment, grinning. "Or are you?"

"I simply don't care for either the product or the word." He said, trying to downplay the whole thing.

"Uhuh. I can tell." She said. An idea was beginning to form in her mind, and she had to get out of there before he caught on.

"Well, I guess I'll be going. Have a nice shift." And she was gone.

Something was up, and Grissom didn't know what it was. She had gotten this look on her face and hightailed it out of there. They had known each other for too long for him to not know what that meant. Catherine was planning something, and she didn't want him to know. And Grissom didn't like it. Not one bit.

Grissom walked up to his front door the next morning exhausted. He had been working hard on a couple of particularly tough cases. By that time, he had completely forgotten the conversation he and Catherine had had the night before. Inserting the key in the lock, he noticed something. There, stuck to his door by a piece of scotch tape, was a tampon. Catherine. He was mildly annoyed, but too tired to care. He made a mental note to take it down later. He opened his door and...What the hell? There were tampons everywhere. On his ceiling fan, on the tv, all over the couch. There were pink ones, blue ones, boxes, and cutouts from magazines. Except for one cushion, the living room was covered. It looked out of place among the rest of the disaster area. He wondered how she had missed it. She had even stuck a giant picture on his wall.


He shouted, to no one in particular, since nobody was there. No longer tired, Gil walked back outside, shutting out the images of the things. He pulled out his cell phone and punched Catherine's number by memory.

"Willows." She sounded as if she was trying to cover up a laugh.

"Hello, Cath". He said, ever calm. "Do you think you could explain to me why there are a bunch of.." He still couldn't bring himself to say the word. "...feminine products covering my living room?"

"I don't believe I could, Mr. Grissom." She sounded as if she were enjoying this.

"Well, since you don't know anything about it, do you think you might be able to come over to help me go over the scene of the crime? You do realize we are dealing with breaking and entering." Despite everything, Grissom felt himself slipping into her playful attitude, as well.

"Certainly. I will be right over." She hung up, as did Grissom. What was it about her that always made him forget to be mad?

Meanwhile, Catherine could hardly contain her laughter as she hung up the phone. Then she sobered. She hoped she hadn't gone too far. It had seemed hilarious at the time, but hopefully Gil wouldn't be too mad at her.

Catherine pulled up to his house and noticed that the tampon she had taped to the door was still there. She laughed. Stepping out from the car, she made her way to the door and let herself in. Gil was sitting on the couch, on the one area that did not have tampons on it. She had left it open on purpose, and had figured that that would be where he sat. She was right, of course.

He looked up.

"Catherine Willows, what on earth is all of this?"

"Tampons." She said sweetly, purely for her own amusement to see his face.

"Why?" He didn't sound angry, as she had expected. Rather, he sounded quite amused. What was up with him?

"Because I wanted to see what you would do." She said, smiling. "And. of course to rid you of this ridiculous thing."

"Technically, Cath, it would be a phobia. What the dictionary defines as a persistent, abnormal, irrational fear of a sp-"

"Okay, Mr. Dictionary." She interrupted him from his recitation, grinning. "Would you like me to help you clean this up?"

"Oh, no this is a crime scene. We can't tamper with the evidence."


He laughed. "All right, all right. But I am not touching those things."

She sighed. "You are hopeless."

He leaned back to watch her as she bent down to pick up a few of what appeared to be real tampons.

She glanced sideways at him, and back down at the contents of her hand. Uh oh.

He got up from the couch. He should have known that she wasn't giving up her fun that easily.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

Yes, she would.

With a quick spin, Grissom was off, with a laughing Catherine chasing him. He went into his bedroom, and turned to close the door. Unfortunately, she was either faster or closer behind him than he had thought. She rushed into the bedroom and cornered him so the only way out was to crawl over the bed or go around her. She threw one at him, and he ducked.

"Gil Grissom, I swear, I am not leaving until I get you to at least say the word."

"Oh, really. I'd say that you were going to be here for quite some time, then."

"Not necessarily."

She walked slowly towards him.

Catherine hadn't had this much fun in years. She and Gil never did anything like this. As she continued walking toward him, he suddenly he jumped on the bed, making one last ridiculous attempt at freedom. He didn't make it, of course. She jumped after him, but he rolled back on top of her, pinning her hand to the mattress. Catherine felt her heart rate quicken and her breath speed up. She couldn't speak for him, but suddenly her attention was not on the game.

They stopped moving.


Seeing the expression on her face, he gave up all attempts at hiding his feelings. He reached, took the contents of her hands, and threw them across the room.

"Tampons be damned." He said, and kissed her.

The End