Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…and if I did, boy the fun I would have!!!

She glanced around the room at her co-workers and the people she considered her family.

"I didn't have a choice." That was her simple explanation. Like any of us would buy that shit.

Nick was the first to speak for us. He had been the most upset by the situation. "We trust you with our lives, Catherine. You could have trusted us with this."

Her eyes met Warrick's and there was no need for anything to be spoken. She immediately knew his feelings on the issue and that part of his anger came from being a player in their masquerade.

And then she set her sights on me. "Sara?"

There were a lot of things bouncing around in my head that I wanted to say to her. But this was neither the time nor the place for me cut her to shreds.

"If I have something to say to you Catherine, I'm going to say it in private."

That was a week ago and other than reporting my findings for cases to her, I've not spoken to her. I've ignored her phone calls. I've turned down her breakfast invitations. I've done everything humanly possible to avoid her.

That is until I look out the peephole on my door to find out who is banging on it in the middle of the morning. I find myself look at Catherine through this small hole and separated by three inches of wood.

I sigh heavily and open the door as far as the chain on it will allow me. I just stare at her. I don't speak.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let me in?"

I don't remove the chain. I don't open the door any further. "What do you want?"

She looks hurt. Funny, I recall most of our team wearing the same expression when we realized we had been duped by Catherine and that weirdo Keppler.

"I want to talk to you, Sara. The guys are all talking to me. We're all trying to work through this. But you, you won't talk to me. I can't fix this if you want talk to me."

"Cath, I told you that if I had anything to say to you I'd say it in private."

"Your apartment if private. Let me in and we'll talk."

"Catherine, I don't want you here. I don't want to talk to you."

"I'm not going anywhere until you let me in." I shut the door in her face and started back toward my warm bed.

I had only taken a few steps into my apartment when the banging started. The banging was accompanied by the sing-song chant of Catherine. "Sara. Sara Sidle. Let me in." She was repeating it over…and over…and over.

I stopped in my hall, waiting to see if it would stop. It didn't. Within a few minutes, my phone started ringing. The caller-id revealed that it was one of my neighbors. I answered it, "Hello?"

"Miss Sidle, there is a crazy woman banging on your door. You want me to call the police?"

I sighed heavily, "No, she's one of my coworkers."

"Really, she looks like that woman who used to come to your apartment and…"

"Have you been spying on me Mr. Maguire?"

"No, I just notice things. Get rid of her or I call the cops."

I hung up the phone and walked to the door. I slid the chain off and just as I opened the door, Catherine pushed it the rest of the way open and made her way into the apartment.

"Catherine, I don't want you here. But since you're hellbent on me telling you what I think of the situation I will." She sat down on the couch and made herself comfortable.

"Nick was right. We trust you with our lives every day. You could have trusted us with this. We've been together seven years. We're a family—were a family. Now, I don't know you. Grissom is gone and this guy shows up. You're supposed to be the acting supervisor, but you let him run around like a loose canon. There was a time when you despised me. I couldn't close Eddie's case properly—the way you wanted. You hated me for that, I knew that. I could understand that. You didn't like that Grissom brought me in to investigate Warrick. Come to think of it, there have been very few times you've actually appreciated me or anything I've done. Every opportunity you've ever had to tear me down or kick me when I was already down, you've taken. And now—now—you want me to forgive you so that you can put your 'family' back together. Is that what you want?"

She was no longer the confident woman who had sat down on my couch. She was now on the verge of tears. She stood up, got toe-to-toe with me and spoke, "Yes, that's what I want. I want you to forgive me." She stepped toward me and held out her arms.

"Not this time, Catherine."

"Why not? Why can't you forgive me?"

"Every other time that you've hurt me, it's been out of anger or bitchiness or heat of the moment reactions. I can understand those things. I grew up with that. But this—this thing with Keppler—this was calculated. You two made a decision and even involved Brass and other people in it. You didn't see fit to involve the very people that had busted their asses to find your kid when someone kidnapped her. You didn't see fit to be honest with the person you called to process the scene of your rape. The very people you say you love—the people you claim as family—we're the ones that you deceived. So, while Nick, Greg and Warrick might forgive you for this, I don't."

Tears were flowing freely down her face. "What about us?"

"What about us, Catherine? You can't possibly entertain the notion that there is an us anymore after this. We fucked a few times. That doesn't mean that there was ever an us."

"But we don't have to mix our personal lives with our professional lives, Sar. You can be pissed about work stuff. You don't have to bring it home." Suddenly, I realized this wasn't about work. It was personal.

"Not mix our personal and professional lives? That's a fucking joke, Catherine. The two are inextricably bound together. It's our personal experiences that make us better investigators. For me, there is no separation."

She moved toward me and went to put her arms around my waist. "Please, Sar."

I grabbed her wrists and moved her away from me forcibly. "Tell ya what, why don't you wait for the spirit to move me? And in my case, that'd be never, right?"

Defeated, Catherine turned and walked out my door.