"Where's Sara?" Gil asked as he sat down in the break room.
"I just saw her in the hallway a few minutes ago," Nick said, looking around the table.
"I'm sure she'll be here." Catherine gave him a look to say, back off, but he ignored it. "You're late," he snapped at Sara as she came in the door. Sara pointedly ignored him as she sat down, dropping a stack of folders down on table in front of her. Grissom glared at her for a moment, and then looked around at the rest of the table. "So where do we stand?"
Catherine sighed. "We're waiting for analysis on the trace."
"Um, actually, we got a hit off of the partial and blood from the bathroom. Two types of blood from the bathroom." Catherine shot her an annoyed look down the table and Sara's shoulders hunched defensively. "Sorry. I tried to page you."
Catherine looked down at her belt. "Oh, shit, Sara, I must have taken it off. Sorry."
Sara's face was emotionless, as was her voice. "Anyway, the perp just got out of prison in California a little over a week ago, a Daniel Green." She slid a folder down in front of Grissom. "Apparently, this isn't his first stop. There were a couple of DBs with a similar MO in the last week in California. A contact of mine faxed me the files." She slid another folder down the table to Grissom, still only looking about two feet in front of her. "And I just got a call about," She glances at her watch, "8 minutes ago that vic #2's cash card was used in the Strip about an hour ago to make a hefty withdraw. I stopped to map the location with hotels and casinos nearby before I came in since I imagine he's probably still near that location, gambling or something." She slid the last folder down in front of Grissom, keeping her eyes down.
"I'll..." Gil seemed a little unnerved by her demeanor, unsure what to say. "I'll call Brass. Excellent work, Sara." There was a chorus of agreement from around the table. Gil paused in his dialing, "Did you want to go on the search?"
Sara gave him a blank look. "Nah, I have paperwork to finish up before the end of shift." She hoisted herself out of the chair and was out the door, to the puzzled stares of her colleagues.
Everyone else followed her out, but Grissom motioned for Catherine to stay. After hanging up the phone with Brass, he asked, "What's wrong with Sara? Do you know?"
Catherine sighed. "No. But something has been bothering her lately, especially this last week." She gave him the patented pay-attention look that Gil usually registered and did, in fact, pay attention to what she was telling him. "And you are not helping any. Jumping on her for taking lunch? Calling her when you should have called me anyway? And embarrassing her in front of everyone just now about being late?" Grissom looked more and more uncomfortable as she read off the list of things. "And that's just today. You've been really hard on her, for months, when you aren't actively avoiding her."
Gil shifted in his chair and didn't meet Catherine's eyes when she looked at him. "What? What's going on, Gil?" When he didn't answer, she put a note of warning into her voice. "Gil?"
"She asked me out."
"She did what? When?" She glanced around behind her, quickly, to make sure nobody was in the break room.
"Last year. After the explosion."
"Did you? You didn't? Right?"
"No."
Catherine tried to catch his eye, but he didn't look up. She read his avoidance and sighed. "You wanted to, didn't you?" He nodded. "So you overcompensated by being hard on her so you wouldn't be accused of favoritism?" He seemed to be thinking, as if unsure that's what he had been doing. She sighed again in exasperation.
"Damn it, Gil." Catherine slammed her hands down on the table, breaking him out of his train of thought. "Everyone's noticed how you haven't been working with her on cases and how hyper-aware you are when she makes the slightest mistake." She leaned back in her chair and glared at him. "You've..." She blew air out noisily. It wouldn't help to list his offenses to him, again. "Well, that explains the last few months. But I think something else is going on this last week."
"Do you think I should talk to her?"
Catherine rolled her eyes before shaking her head, emphatically. "No. I'll try to talk to her." She snapped her chair back to upright. "What you need to do is get over this. You can't date and I'm sure Sara knows that. It was right after the explosion?" He nodded. "That shook us all up. Remember that incident with Brass? Where she rushed in instead of waiting for the PD to secure the scene?" Gil nodded again. "Maybe there was something going on there, risk-taking."
"But you need to start working on rebuilding your working relationship with her." She caught his confused look. "Lighten up on her. Trust her to do her job. And start working on cases with her as much as the rest of us. Work with her, not against her, professionally, and that will go a long way." He looked at her questioningly. "She messed up by asking you out, personally, but you are taking it out on her professionally. Because the two are so close for you. For both of you." She shook her head sadly. For a genius, he was so dense sometimes. "You just get back on track professionally." He nodded thoughtfully, his mind already working on what was probably already labeled "The Problem of Sara" somewhere in his head.
-----------------
Catherine paused outside 'Sara's lab,' as it was called by most everyone else. None of the labs were actually assigned, but Sara always seemed to work in that particular one. Her head was hunched over her paperwork, dark hair cascading down over her face, as if to shut out the world. Poor kid, Catherine thought, remembering her defensive look from the break room earlier. She's just expecting everyone to come down on her. And she's not wrong most of the time, Catherine admitted ruefully.
"Hey." She leaned against the doorframe.
Sara glanced up from her paperwork for the moment it took to register her presence and then went back to pretending to be absorbed in her paperwork. "Hey."
"You lied." Sara looked up at her again, her nose wrinkling and her eyebrows knitting together. Catherine held up her pager. "You tried to page me three times. I'm sorry, Sara. I shouldn't have assumed you didn't try to contact me." Catherine couldn't tell if Sara accepted her apology; she just sat there looking worn and tired. "Not that you needed my help anyway," Catherine continued brightly. "That was great work. They caught the guy only like 200 feet from that cash machine, playing slots. He was all packed up and ready to leave after spending the afternoon gambling. Your work on this case stopped a serial spree killer before he moved on."
"Thanks," she replied, less monotone but with nothing remotely close to warmth.
"Look, I know we're not exactly friends..."
"Yeah, you are right about that," Sara interrupted, a note of scorn in her voice. "So if you are about to tell me I can talk to you, well, why don't we just wait for the spirit to move me?" Her eyes sparked with defiance, but pain lurked there was well. "We both know when that will be, right?"
Catherine stopped herself from retorting, although having the snippy comments she made years ago thrown back in her face stung. "You know what I like about working with you? Or liked, anyway?" Sara's eyebrow quirked in an you're-not-gone-yet expression. "How enthused you are. Every crime scene is just like a big adult playground for you. Or was. A year ago, you would have been out the door when you got that info about the ATM with your hair on fire, dialing up Brass when you were already half way to the Strip, and nobody would have been able to stop you. Would have been like getting in the way of a hurricane. Now you 'politely' decline and get caught up on your paperwork. I don't know what's going on, but I do know I miss that enthusiasm. I miss that Sara." Catherine lets the silence stretch for a moment. "Anyway, you have my number. If the spirit moves you." She left at that, leaving Sara staring after her with a thoughtful expression remarkably similar to Gil's.
"I just saw her in the hallway a few minutes ago," Nick said, looking around the table.
"I'm sure she'll be here." Catherine gave him a look to say, back off, but he ignored it. "You're late," he snapped at Sara as she came in the door. Sara pointedly ignored him as she sat down, dropping a stack of folders down on table in front of her. Grissom glared at her for a moment, and then looked around at the rest of the table. "So where do we stand?"
Catherine sighed. "We're waiting for analysis on the trace."
"Um, actually, we got a hit off of the partial and blood from the bathroom. Two types of blood from the bathroom." Catherine shot her an annoyed look down the table and Sara's shoulders hunched defensively. "Sorry. I tried to page you."
Catherine looked down at her belt. "Oh, shit, Sara, I must have taken it off. Sorry."
Sara's face was emotionless, as was her voice. "Anyway, the perp just got out of prison in California a little over a week ago, a Daniel Green." She slid a folder down in front of Grissom. "Apparently, this isn't his first stop. There were a couple of DBs with a similar MO in the last week in California. A contact of mine faxed me the files." She slid another folder down the table to Grissom, still only looking about two feet in front of her. "And I just got a call about," She glances at her watch, "8 minutes ago that vic #2's cash card was used in the Strip about an hour ago to make a hefty withdraw. I stopped to map the location with hotels and casinos nearby before I came in since I imagine he's probably still near that location, gambling or something." She slid the last folder down in front of Grissom, keeping her eyes down.
"I'll..." Gil seemed a little unnerved by her demeanor, unsure what to say. "I'll call Brass. Excellent work, Sara." There was a chorus of agreement from around the table. Gil paused in his dialing, "Did you want to go on the search?"
Sara gave him a blank look. "Nah, I have paperwork to finish up before the end of shift." She hoisted herself out of the chair and was out the door, to the puzzled stares of her colleagues.
Everyone else followed her out, but Grissom motioned for Catherine to stay. After hanging up the phone with Brass, he asked, "What's wrong with Sara? Do you know?"
Catherine sighed. "No. But something has been bothering her lately, especially this last week." She gave him the patented pay-attention look that Gil usually registered and did, in fact, pay attention to what she was telling him. "And you are not helping any. Jumping on her for taking lunch? Calling her when you should have called me anyway? And embarrassing her in front of everyone just now about being late?" Grissom looked more and more uncomfortable as she read off the list of things. "And that's just today. You've been really hard on her, for months, when you aren't actively avoiding her."
Gil shifted in his chair and didn't meet Catherine's eyes when she looked at him. "What? What's going on, Gil?" When he didn't answer, she put a note of warning into her voice. "Gil?"
"She asked me out."
"She did what? When?" She glanced around behind her, quickly, to make sure nobody was in the break room.
"Last year. After the explosion."
"Did you? You didn't? Right?"
"No."
Catherine tried to catch his eye, but he didn't look up. She read his avoidance and sighed. "You wanted to, didn't you?" He nodded. "So you overcompensated by being hard on her so you wouldn't be accused of favoritism?" He seemed to be thinking, as if unsure that's what he had been doing. She sighed again in exasperation.
"Damn it, Gil." Catherine slammed her hands down on the table, breaking him out of his train of thought. "Everyone's noticed how you haven't been working with her on cases and how hyper-aware you are when she makes the slightest mistake." She leaned back in her chair and glared at him. "You've..." She blew air out noisily. It wouldn't help to list his offenses to him, again. "Well, that explains the last few months. But I think something else is going on this last week."
"Do you think I should talk to her?"
Catherine rolled her eyes before shaking her head, emphatically. "No. I'll try to talk to her." She snapped her chair back to upright. "What you need to do is get over this. You can't date and I'm sure Sara knows that. It was right after the explosion?" He nodded. "That shook us all up. Remember that incident with Brass? Where she rushed in instead of waiting for the PD to secure the scene?" Gil nodded again. "Maybe there was something going on there, risk-taking."
"But you need to start working on rebuilding your working relationship with her." She caught his confused look. "Lighten up on her. Trust her to do her job. And start working on cases with her as much as the rest of us. Work with her, not against her, professionally, and that will go a long way." He looked at her questioningly. "She messed up by asking you out, personally, but you are taking it out on her professionally. Because the two are so close for you. For both of you." She shook her head sadly. For a genius, he was so dense sometimes. "You just get back on track professionally." He nodded thoughtfully, his mind already working on what was probably already labeled "The Problem of Sara" somewhere in his head.
-----------------
Catherine paused outside 'Sara's lab,' as it was called by most everyone else. None of the labs were actually assigned, but Sara always seemed to work in that particular one. Her head was hunched over her paperwork, dark hair cascading down over her face, as if to shut out the world. Poor kid, Catherine thought, remembering her defensive look from the break room earlier. She's just expecting everyone to come down on her. And she's not wrong most of the time, Catherine admitted ruefully.
"Hey." She leaned against the doorframe.
Sara glanced up from her paperwork for the moment it took to register her presence and then went back to pretending to be absorbed in her paperwork. "Hey."
"You lied." Sara looked up at her again, her nose wrinkling and her eyebrows knitting together. Catherine held up her pager. "You tried to page me three times. I'm sorry, Sara. I shouldn't have assumed you didn't try to contact me." Catherine couldn't tell if Sara accepted her apology; she just sat there looking worn and tired. "Not that you needed my help anyway," Catherine continued brightly. "That was great work. They caught the guy only like 200 feet from that cash machine, playing slots. He was all packed up and ready to leave after spending the afternoon gambling. Your work on this case stopped a serial spree killer before he moved on."
"Thanks," she replied, less monotone but with nothing remotely close to warmth.
"Look, I know we're not exactly friends..."
"Yeah, you are right about that," Sara interrupted, a note of scorn in her voice. "So if you are about to tell me I can talk to you, well, why don't we just wait for the spirit to move me?" Her eyes sparked with defiance, but pain lurked there was well. "We both know when that will be, right?"
Catherine stopped herself from retorting, although having the snippy comments she made years ago thrown back in her face stung. "You know what I like about working with you? Or liked, anyway?" Sara's eyebrow quirked in an you're-not-gone-yet expression. "How enthused you are. Every crime scene is just like a big adult playground for you. Or was. A year ago, you would have been out the door when you got that info about the ATM with your hair on fire, dialing up Brass when you were already half way to the Strip, and nobody would have been able to stop you. Would have been like getting in the way of a hurricane. Now you 'politely' decline and get caught up on your paperwork. I don't know what's going on, but I do know I miss that enthusiasm. I miss that Sara." Catherine lets the silence stretch for a moment. "Anyway, you have my number. If the spirit moves you." She left at that, leaving Sara staring after her with a thoughtful expression remarkably similar to Gil's.
