Chapter 2

He was ready to leave sure that she was not home. Sure that she was off in trouble, maybe being stopped by police at this moment or in a cold jail cell.

He was sure she was in her car on her way home or in the arms of another man. He was so sure she was just pissed at him and not opening the door.

Really the only thing he was sure of was that he didn't know anything about Sara's personal life and that left him to contemplate all sorts of things that weren't true.

His right hand lying on the door's soft wood, he heard it. It was right on the other side of the door, like something had fallen and hit the floor.

"Sara!" he shouted this time with renewed hope that maybe she was home. "Sara?" Again her name graced his lips as he pounded on the door once again. He asked fiercely, "Are you in there?"

He pleaded hoping that would make the stupid door open. Sara please open the door." And when that didn't work he was done being polite.

"Open. This. Door!" Roaring the last word the door trembled, suddenly opening it surprised Grissom and sent his heart beating even faster then it already was.

His eyes met nothing but air. She wasn't standing there and the lack of her figure pained him somehow, but not as much as when he looked down.

There she was, but he didn't want to believe it. This ragged person sitting in front of him could not be Sara it was unfathomable.

Her dark hair frizzled and unkempt fell to the sides of her face only leaving parts of her features visible in between the mess. His gaze wandered down to her body, the immense wrinkles in her clothes catching his eye. Those wrinkles only came from being slept in or left on the floor and Sara wasn't the kind of person to leave her clothes on the ground then put them back on before washing or at least ironing them.

His feet seemed to consume her line of vision and the dulled look on her face was nothing compared to the look plastered on his. He was glad she was focused on his shoes. Surprised wasn't the word to describe the look on Grissom's face, better was the term astonished: very surprised, horrified. Yep, that hit the nail on the head.

Maybe this wasn't Sara. He had mistaken other woman for Sara before. Maybe it was a relative of hers or better yet a friend. Yes, a friend that looked extremely like her.

But he was too smart for this, deep down he knew this inebriated woman at his feet was Sara, plain and simple. Getting over the initial shock shed new light on the situation. He was angry.

How could she do this, she was being irresponsible and not herself. Never in the time that she had worked for him had he seen her miss work for something as stupid as getting drunk. He didn't understand what was going on, so many questions needed to be answered and he was going to make her talk.

Bending low he grasped her hands roughly in his and gracefully pulled her to her feet making her face visible for the first time that evening. She looked right into him, her eyes gazing fixedly on Grissom, making him feel uneasy and vulnerable. Pushing the feelings aside he shook her a bit to try to get a reaction but she just kept staring. Her face blank of feeling her eyes hiding something in there brown void.

He spoke to her loudly hoping that it would get through to her, "Sara! Sara, are you drunk?" Grissom saw her face grow hurt and angry. Then instead of supporting Sara he was restraining her. That simple phrase had enough force to knock Sara into the waking world and out of the little bit of peace she had left.

She pushed off of him with unexpected force, while mumbling incoherently and Grissom just had to ask again, "Sara, did you hear me? Are you drunk?"

He watched as she uneasily walked away from him, swaying with each step, just trying to keep her balance. Her raspy voice broke the silence that had occupied the room.

"No!" She coughed in an attempt to clear her throat, "I'm not drunk Grissom," She paused, "If anything, I'm far from it!"

What gave her the nerve to lie to his face? She was obviously drunk and yet she lied.

"Right, you're not drunk." His sarcastic tone made Sara turn in disbelief. "May I ask if you were planning on coming to work tonight?"

Her stutter hurt him. He stared at her just waiting for response, knowing it was just another lie. "I was on my way out when you knocked." Her words were poison to hear, from a person that he held in so much respect.

Angrily he contradicted her, "Really, you don't seem ready for work. If I'm not mistaken you're wearing the same thing you were wearing last night! Not to mention your inability to walk straight, Sara!"

He watched her slender hands rise up to soothe her head, "Get out of my apartment this is none of your business." Her voice had become incredibly soft but he could still feel the anger and frustration that was hiding beneath the lines. He snapped.

"None of my business! When one of my CSI is to drunk to get herself to work, to open the door, of course it's my business!"

He saw the anger well up in her, she yelled at him with all she had, "I'm NOT DRUNK!" The fierceness of her yell made her stumble forward towards him. Something inside him wanted to stand by and watch her fall to the hard floor but it didn't get to the better of him.

Grabbing her arm tightly he tried to lead her to the couch but his attempt was swatted by her hands. She just slapped him away again. Grissom stared as she walked up to the couch by herself to stable her shaking body.

He looked away, his emotions conflicting with his thoughts. In the time he had gotten to this familiar yet alien apartment his head had been spinning with thoughts that made him question the existence that he was so used to and he wasn't even half way through the evening. He had to get to the bottom of this.