Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is © Anthony E Zuiker/CBS. None of these characters belong to me. One instance in this chapter is from the series, episode "You Kill Me;" everything else is a play-off. Whatever happens besides is coincidental. Enjoy:

I Am the Better Man

Chapter 1

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Sara left."

I turned away from my locker for a second and looked at Nick, processing what he had just said and the look on his face as he looked up at me from the bench. I loosened up and gave a small chuckle, looking back inside my locker and taking off my jacket. Nick, Nick, Nick… always trying to tease me. Why must you torture me so?

"Haha, good one, Nick – "

"I'm serious, Greg."

I looked at him again. The way he was talking was extremely serious and subdued; I could barely believe it was him. If I didn't know he was there, I would have thought he was my boss or something. The smile on my face had disappeared. An uncomfortable silence seemed to have made itself comfortable in between Nick and I, stuck. Not sure how long it lasted, but I didn't like it's company.

"You're not… you can't be serious…" I closed my locker slowly, my gaze still on Nick. He pursed his lips, as he usually does when he's sure of things, and started working on tying his shoes on the bench.

"Yeah, needed time away I heard… she was really stressed out. I can understand. After that case with Hannah and Marlon… it was hell the first time, but to see them again? It's a wonder I'm still here, with everything you get out of this job." Nick finished with his left foot, set it down on the floor and raised his right foot onto the bench, working on those laces now.

"She was stressed out…" I repeated those words to myself, more than a thousand times it seems in my head. I sat down slowly on the bench next to Nick, staring at the locker in front of me. I stared at the scratches on it, I could barely make out a butterfly… "Why didn't she tell me?"

"She didn't tell me," Nick answered, making a content face at his shoes. I turned my head to face him, a little confused.

"Then who told you?"

"Catherine." Catherine seems like the sort of person Sara would tell… but at the same time she doesn't. I asked again to make sure:

"And who told her?"

"Grissom."

Grissom. I paused, hoping in my head Warrick had told Grissom about Sara's departure. Or even Hodges. Just not directly to Grissom… "Who told Grissom?"

"Sara wrote him a letter. Apparently it was…" I didn't hear much after that. My heart plunged. Never felt so hard to swallow my own spit. Of course I knew about Sara's relationship with Grissom – the whole lab knew! Doesn't mean I was hunky-dory with it. I was kinda-sorta happy because I thought Sara was happy, and that's all that mattered to me. That she was happy. But to find out that she had left because she was stressed, needed time away, that she wasn't happy. That hurt… that hurt a lot. And what made it worse was that Grissom didn't do anything to comfort her. With all the extra time together, you'd think Sara's emotions would get through his thick head. If I were Grissom, I would have found a way to prevent her from leaving, prevent her from even thinking about leaving. If I were Grissom… I'd be better. For her.

But was I really the better man? I like to tell myself that. Yet with Sara's choice… I can't help but question it.

And then I heard Nick's voice again, "… we should go comfort Grissom."

"Huh?"
"You know… take him out to eat or something. He must be real hurt."

"Hurt?" Was this person Nick I was talking to? The guy that knew I had feelings for Sara from the get-go? Who teased me for such feelings? But here he is, telling me we should comfort some other guy? Boy did my blood start to boil.

Unfortunately, I didn't know how to leave casually without seeming like an ass, so I said, "... I think I hear the kettle calling. Blue Hawaiian… can't waste that."

"I don't hear anything – "

"That's because it's calling to me and me only…"

"Yeah, see you around, Greg." Fortunately, I don't think he got it.

I got to the break room and decided a cup of coffee wouldn't be such a bad idea. I pulled up a chair and slouched in it, leaning over my elbows on the table, playing with my fingers. Porn wasn't of my best interest at the moment: I was trying to figure out why Sara didn't tell me that she'd left…

As I pondered over my grief, Catherine came into the room.

"Hey Greg."

"Hey Catherine. What's up?"

"Ah… long day."

"Sure is…" I sighed, inconspicuously I hoped; I didn't really want to talk to anyone at the moment. She didn't respond, so I thought she'd leave soon, but I guess I shouldn't assume. She sat in the chair next to me. I could feel her eyes on my face averting hers. I realized how odd I looked just sitting there, hunched over in my chair over… nothing. Or, nothing she could see, which is why I guess she started to talk again, "You all right?"

"Yeah! Yeah. I'm all right." Even that much was a lie.

"Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but…" she trailed off, looking around through the windowed-walls of the room. Wonder who she was looking out for? I perked up a little, hoping for some lab gossip, or a hot case.

"Buuuuut…?"

"But Sara's gone, and – "

"Oh, yeah…" I slouched again. I should have known, "horrible, isn't it?" I looked at Catherine in the eyes, then down to my hands on the table, "The lab just doesn't feel the same."

"It really doesn't." she stood up at the sound of a bell, indicating the coffee was ready. I grinned, maybe someone was actually going to comfort me! ME! And of all people, Catherine! Who would have thought?

She brought a mug of the lovely, aromatic, Blue Hawaiian goodness to the table. Oh Catherine, you shouldn't have, you brought the coffee to me!

And then she killed me, "Someone needs to talk to Grissom. Calm him down a bit."

Dammit! Why? Why Catherine, why? I thought you had something for a second.

"What's wrong with him?" I answered, irritably. She gave me a baffled look, and I returned it. Maybe she'd restate her statement.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong with you?" Of course there's something wrong with me. My heart aches! How can you not tell?

"I'm… a bit upset is all."

"Oh, Greg… we're all upset." What's this? A little acknowledgement? Oh, do go on! "But don't worry… we'll make it through. It's just Grissom needs the most help now, I think."

"Why?" I snapped. I should feel bad… but I don't.

"Where have you been? He's suffering from heartache."

Oh, my heart! How you ache! What? What's that? Suffering for more than a year, and you're still not recognized? Poor you. Life isn't fair.

"Oh, there he is!" and with a sip of MY coffee, Catherine scurried away. I looked down at the mug. At least I almost thought it was for me.

But I don't get it; I honestly don't get it. For people who solve crimes for a living, looking for clues and the subtleties in life, I'm surprised these people are still employed. I crushed on Sara back then. When I felt things were getting a little intimate between her and Grissom, I still felt the same way for her, if not it grew stronger. When it was official something was going on between her and Grissom, sure I felt bad… but my affection for her never disappeared.

I looked at my reflection in the coffee and sighed deeply.

"No one understands you, Sanders. It's a real shame…"

Then Catherine came back.

"What's a real shame?"

Tell her. Tell her how you feel about this whole matter. How furious you are; how irritated you are; how terribly your heart aches. Make her and everyone else realize their wrongs.

"Nothing." Idiot. Why'd I say that?

"Oh… okay. You sure?"

No. No. I'm not sure. I mean I am sure. I am sure there is something shameful in how

am being treated. I am sure!

"Yes!"

"Well, that's good. We don't need any more touchy people right now."

Sanders, you messed it up again! I AM one of those "touchy people" right now! Oh… just forget it… this will all blow away soon enough. No need to make people feel like you're insane. Just change the subject. Ask how Grissom is doing. You don't have to say his name.

"That was quick."

"What was quick?"

Don't say his name.

"What you just went to do."

"Greg, I did a lot of things in the past couple minutes."

Really? How?

"Did you?"

"Yes."

Don't say his name.

"I mean… that thing you had to do… urgently… the urgent thing." Catherine's face showed that of realization. I grinned at my cunning. She understood!

"… did Lindsey call?"

No! She didn't understand! Now you're getting her scared. Ah, for heaven's sake…

"No… Grissom."

"Oh, well, it's going to take a lot of time for him to deal…"

"… time?"

"… yes. As do all love-related issues."

Wow, did I feel like yelling into a pillow. I must've had the most blank expression on my face, save for a pained smile. After holding her gaze for a few long seconds, I stood up and left. I even left my coffee. Without a word. Gone. Woosh. Disappeared! Just like how everyone feels my emotions towards Sara have done. God, I can't stand all this ignorance! I just need to get home, away from all these people.

I rounded the corner, pretty damn flustered, and wouldn't you know who just happened to be approaching me? Hope he doesn't talk to me, doesn't say a word to me. Don't even acknowledge that he's there, Greg Sanders. Just ignore him…

"G'night, Greg."

Damn, I looked. He spoke to me. Say something sharp, Greg. Retaliate. Show him how much of a better man you are than he is. Make him regret the day he ever took Sara away from you.

"Yeah, whatever…"

… smooth, Greg. Smooth.