A/N Thanks to Michelle and Lisa for the beta work. They heart me on most days.
Catherine hurried down the surprisingly still hallway, short legs working double time to catch up with the lithe brunette.
"Sara," she called a little too loudly causing the other woman to look over her shoulder but never stop moving.
"Warrick emailed you the finger prints from the Mallory case and I told Ecklie you owe me a big one," Sara said as they rounded a corner the clip clop of their heels echoing in the dark corridor.
Catherine shook her $100 highlights as she tried to keep pace with Sara's long smooth strides "I think I stuck my Jimmy Choo's in my mouth earlier."
Sara tossed her dark mane as she gave Catherine a hard glance.
"Sara..." Catherine looked around to make sure the dark hallway to the locker room was clear. It was; even so, she lowered her voice. One never knew who or what was lurking around the corner. "Jim seems to think Grissom has a girlfriend."
"Good for him," Sara shrugged as she balled her left hand into a tight, white fist.
"Jim seems to think it's you," Catherine barreled on, nearly breathless from the exertion of keeping pace with Sara's gazelle-like strides
Feeling both trapped and free, Sara slowed her movements as they entered the locker room.
As Sara opened her locker Catherine straddled the ancient wooden bench with practiced sultriness. She watched Sara pull her purse from the nearly empty locker. "We don't have to talk about it." Sara arched a sleek brow and gave a hard swallow. "Hell, you won't talk about it. I just want to say I'm sorry if anything I said about Heather...hurt you or gave you the impression that I KNEW anything. It was pure speculation on my part. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known--about you two." She paused to bite her lip. "Okay?"
Shrugging her shoulder and leaning against the closed locker door, Sara's chocolate gaze found a spot on the wall just behind Catherine. "Wouldn't have made it any less true though."
Several moments passed as Catherine absorbed Sara's words. "No. I guess you're right. For what it's worth, I don't think Grissom slept with her."
"You don't think or you don't know?"
Catherine's brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as she shook her head. "Both."
Nodding slowly, Sara blinked furiously and tried to figure out what to do.
"Look," Catherine said in a voice so sweet it made Sara want to slap her and hug her at the same time. "Most of Sam's property is still tied up in probate and debt and god knows what else…but I've got couple of condos and an apartment building. You can stay there..." She stopped short as she took in Sara's bewildered expression.
"I don't live with him, Cath." Sara took a moment to steady her breathing and the shaking in her voice. "I just don't not live with him."
"Ah. Molding food in your fridge. Fresh food in his."
"Yeah," Sara said just above a whisper; she straightened her shoulders. "You offered me a drink once. I never took you up on it."
XXX
By the time Grissom got home, the weight of judgment and accusation had worn him down to the point that he fell asleep in his clothes after letting the dog out. The letter had actually been there when he'd collapsed fully clothed in the bed. After he emerged from dreamless sleep he'd been cheered to see a note from Sara. Big hands carefully unfolded the cream colored paper. Expecting a nagging reminder about installing a secure doggie door; he slipped his glasses on and murmured, "How are we going to find a doggie door for you boy?"
The hound lifted his head from the floor and gave Grissom a skeptical look.
Grissom,
I found your letter. In the book by the bed. Would you have ever given it to me? I doubt it. You said you have trouble expressing your feelings to me. At first I thought it was sort of sweet. Now mostly it's just sad.
Over the past 48 hours it's become clear that it's not the expression you have trouble with but the me part of the equation.
I'm not angry or bitter but this is getting tiresome. Everything and everyone seems more important than honoring me and our relationship. We lie to our friends and co-workers but you are completely comfortable with exposing your relationship with a murder suspect-yet again.
I appreciate the fact that Heather has had some major shit come her way but one must wonder when will the Shakespearian tragedy of her life end? I thought mine ended with you but it seems I was wrong.
Perhaps if this were the first time you've forsaken all your responsibilities to help her I could understand. Or if I thought it was the last time. I could deal. But we both know there will be another crisis and you will come running.
I suppose that's not fair. If I needed an alibi I'm sure you'd provide it. But if I'd needed one last night you wouldn't have been there to give it to me.
I do love you. Just not enough
Sara
While he'd read the letter the dog began to pace uneasily with his owner's quickening heart rate. When he was done, Willy stopped his movement and cast forlorn eyes at him. "What did you do?" He seemed to say.
"Screwed up-again," Grissom returned wordlessly.
The animal dropped his head and let out a half choking sound as he started to lick one paw.
Grissom reached for the phone and dialed without looking at the keypad. After three rings a connection was made.
Grissom was surprised to hear his voice break. "Honey, please come home." He paused to steady his voice. "I'll do anything if you just come home."