I started writing and this is the result. A one shot fic, titled the same, but it's relevant. :) Please let me know your thoughts. Set from Sara's POV.

One Shot

I pulled the cigarette from my lips, exhaling the smoke from my lungs. There was barely any breeze to the Vegas city air, its constant muggy heat keeping a sweat to my skin.

I had the night off work - it was meant to be a treat from Grissom as I had worked so much overtime.

It was more like a nightmare.

My mind was on overdrive, filled with images of her: her blonde hair; her perfect curves; that torturously teasing smile.

I took a sip my beer, placing the glass bottle back on the concrete step I was sat on; my back-step was comfier than my sofa, I felt less trapped inside my mind when I was outside. I took another drag of the burning cigarette between my fingers; I could just imagine her coming over after work, bottle of wine in hand; I let my mind wander, to fantasize about spending time with her. My mind had become my greatest enemy of late - teasing me in my sleep with possibilities, what ifs. I couldn't remember the last time I hadn't dreamt of her.

My thumb pressed my cigarette into the concrete step, extinguishing its core. I had lost count of how much I'd smoked tonight, how much I'd drunk. I wondered what she was wearing right now. Probably something that would get my heart racing - sometimes I felt as though she did it on purpose. A blouse with an extra button undone to reveal her soft skin, a pair of denims that hugged her ass, or a pair of killer heels that almost made her as tall as me. I'm sure she'd caught me looking once or twice, but she had never said anything of it.

I hadn't been with anyone in such a long time, neither had she; I wondered if she was lonely, if she thought about me at all, if she missed me when I wasn't there. I desperately wanted to tell her how I felt, but I held back. How could I be sure she felt anything? I had no sign from her that she was interested at all. She had once let slip that she had been with a woman, but it was a comment that was made after five or six cocktails; this revelation had been much to Nick and Warrick's delight, and Grissom's confusion. Despite the unbearable urge I had had that night to confess my feelings for her, I had resisted saying or doing anything. Alcohol was a dangerous liquid - regret always followed it.

I downed the rest of my beer, noticing the sun was rising from the horizon - I had been out here longer than I'd thought.

It was common knowledge that we weren't best friends, we never had been. She thought my past clouded my judgement on cases, although she didn't really know about my past, it was something we had never really been in a comfortable situation to discuss - it wasn't exactly like I could bring up the domestic violence that surrounded my childhood, and which led to the murder of my father by my mother, whilst we were collecting prints or photographing a scene.

Although I had often made a vocal opinion of how she dealt with men, it had only been through anger. I actually envied how she sometimes acted around them; she knew how to get them to do as they were told. I had often fantasised that she would treat me in the same fashion.

Despite our arguments over work, we had generally gotten on quite well outside of the lab. She had once taken me for a beer to get over Hank, but her supporting words hadn't really filled the gap in my soul that had her name written all over it. Of course we'd been for breakfast with the team on many occasions, but it had never really brought us any closer, and it always consisted of me trying to sit next to her or start conversations with her. It was like I was in high school again, although the feelings I had had then for one of my classmates, and eventual girlfriend, were nothing like this.

I didn't know how much longer I could live with the unrequited burning in my soul. It was eating away at me - the need to touch her skin, to run my hand through her long blonde hair, to kiss her. I wanted to ring her: I didn't know what I'd say, but the second the idea came to my mind I had to do it.

I pulled my cell from my jeans pocket, holding it in my hand for a second, my heart beating so hard I could feel it in my ears. I dialled her number as I saw my hand tremble a little. I was getting more nervous by the second. I pressed Call and it began to ring. I debated hanging up there and then but I couldn't: I needed to go through with this. I may never find the courage again.

It rang.

It rang.

It rang again.

The phone made a short click and I felt my stomach flip before it cut to her answer machine. "Hi, this is Catherine. You know what to do."

I wanted to hang up but I knew it would seem weird to not leave a message when my call would have been so unpredicted. "Catherine. It's Sara...I... Uh...just wanted to see how the night was going without me... Anyway, see you on shift later I suppose. Bye."

Damn it.

I hit the end button and put the phone to my side on the step. I needed to smoke. I quickly brought a cigarette to my lips. My hands were shaking as I lit the tip of the cigarette with my lighter, and I felt tears sting my eyes as I took my first drag.

I was filled with anger - I had come to such a defiant conclusion that I would say something to her that would make my feelings known, that something would come of it all, but I had bottled it. I stared out at the horizon as I tried to settle my emotions. Maybe she'd ring me back, maybe she'd just come over knowing how bored I was on my own. Maybe she wouldn't contact me at all and nothing would change.

I hated how scared I was to tell her. I knew even if she felt nothing in return, she would handle it well and let me down gently but it was the rejection that would really hurt - the shocked look in her eyes, the embarrassment from her as she wondered if she'd led me on, the sympathetic smile, the tension afterwards. On top of all of that, it would break my heart, and that was something I doubted I would ever get over.

I had tried to ignore it all, to get over her, but she was inside of me, I would always feel this way.

I would always be in love with Catherine Willows.