A/N: Thanks to my beta, saragrissomlove, for her help!

Jason's Coffeehouse and Bar. It was a lot larger inside than it looked from the outside. It had low lights, tea candles on each table, and dark wood paneling. Off to the right side was a row of booths, promising privacy with their high backs. The center and left side was a mixture of tables and couches, all different and eclectic. Small coffee tables sat in between couches and were stacked with magazines. A few book shelves around the room held an assortment of board games, cards, and discarded novels. It looked like a place perfect for couples, friends, or families.

At Catherine's request, the hostess led them to the booth in the very back corner. Catherine took a seat in the side facing the door, and Sofia slid in across from her on the other side.

A few minutes later a young girl came up to take their drink order.

"I'd like coffee please," Catherine said. The girl turned to Sofia and looked at her expectantly. Sofia met Catherine's eyes and nodded. She apparently hadn't found her voice yet. "Two coffees."

"Now, we have about twelve different selections to chose from," the girl said, leaning over and opening Catherine's menu to show her the list. She started to rattle them off when she was stopped.

"Regular coffee is fine," Catherine said pointedly. The girl blushed, slightly embarrassed, and ran off to get their drinks. She came back a few minutes later with the coffee.

"What can I get you two to eat?"

"Actually, we just want coffee for right now." Catherine squinted to read the girl's name. "Lacey?"

The girl giggled sheepishly. "No, it's actually Anna. My roommate is Lacey, she works here, but she lost my nametag when she did laundry last week and she's not working today so I'm wearing it because we get in trouble if we aren't wearing some sort of nametag but it's okay because we're like sisters anyway and I'll answer to Lacey or Anna, but my real name is Anna."

Sofia tried to suppress a smile at Catherine's stunned expression. "Well, Anna, my friend and I would really like some privacy. We have some important stuff to talk about – with no interruptions. Would it be rude if we put our cups on the edge of the table only when we needed a refill? And that would be the only time you came over here?"

"No, no. No worries. That'll work out. Only come over here when mugs are on the edge of the table. Check. Okay, well enjoy your coffee. I won't bother you; I'll be very stealthy, like a cat." With that, Anna tiptoed away.

Catherine shook her head, laughing. "I'm pretty sure I was never that perky."

Sofia smiled and shook her head in agreement. She took a sip of her coffee, relishing its odd comfort. Now that they were there, she didn't know how to broach the subject. Start with light topics and move on to the one at hand or just jump straight into it? She was the one who wanted to talk and now she could barely find the words to ask the waitress for coffee. She wanted Catherine to initiate the conversation. She almost felt afraid to talk, afraid that whatever came out would sound like gibberish and afraid that what she'd say was so close to the truth that she wouldn't be able to handle it. She stared into her coffee mug as if it would magically give her the answers she so desperately needed.

Catherine studied Sofia, watched as different thoughts and emotions played across her face. She couldn't tell if it was because she never took the time to look or if Sofia had let down her guard, but the detective was surprisingly easy to read. Hidden under her tough exterior it was obvious that Sofia was hurting, and that the hurt went beyond her current situation and the team's catty attitude towards her. She reached across the table and covered one of Sofia's hands with her own.

"You never answered my question earlier. How are you holding up?"

Sofia's eyes immediately filled with tears. She slid her hand out from under Catherine's and shoved them in her jacket pockets and leaned against the back of the booth. She closed her eyes and sighed and waited for the urge to cry had passed, otherwise they'd be there all night. When she opened her eyes and looked at Catherine, any suspicions and ill feelings about the woman evaporated. The concern in her eyes was genuine. "Not so well," she responded, her voice barely higher than a whisper. She wiped her cheeks and rested her chin against her fisted hands. She tapped her lips with her thumbs, once again waiting it out.

"Take your time, Sofia. I don't have to be anywhere for awhile," Catherine said gently. Sofia gave her a questioning look, still not ready to talk yet. Catherine hoped her answer was the one the detective was looking for. "I'm pretty sure it's okay that I talk to you. Earlier, I just had to be in the room for the questioning and to take the guns to ballistics. I'm not part of your investigation. I'm working on the suspect who got shot at the motel. They can do without me for a few hours. If I get in trouble, I get in trouble. They're not going to fire me."

Sofia only nodded, slightly surprised at her loyalty, and sipped more of her coffee. She finished and put it at the end of the table. Seconds later Anna appeared and refilled both their mugs. Keeping her promise, she said nothing as she sauntered off. "Did you always know you wanted to work in law enforcement?"

"Well… not exactly. You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"When I was younger I didn't exactly have a 'future plan.' Instead of going to college I became a dancer. I was one for years, until I got pregnant with Lindsey. I couldn't depend on my husband for a steady income, so I quit, enrolled myself as criminology student at the university, got a job at the lab before I graduated, and the rest is history."

"What made you chose criminology instead of, say, education, or nursing?"

"I had always loved puzzles and piecing things together. When I was little I would force my siblings to hide something from me and leave clues to where it was. For about five years in a row my birthday party consisted of some sort of scavenger hunt. I read mysteries and could usually figure out what was going on well before the characters in the book. I wasn't grossed out by blood. When I was researching career choices I found out what a criminalist did, and it all fell into place. What about you?"

"My mother was a cop – is a cop – and she pretty much raised me to be a cop. I wasn't interested in patrolling so I looked at other law enforcement options and found that being a CSI was interesting and more along the lines of what I'd like to do and I ended up being pretty good at it. And when the whole split shift happened, I thought it might be interesting to be on the non-scientific side of it, so I applied to be a detective…" Sofia trailed off. She didn't want Catherine to find out the real reason why she left CSI so she stuck to the story everyone knew.

"Raised you to be a cop – what do you mean?" Catherine asked.

Sofia sighed. She hated talking about her mom, about her childhood. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Catherine nodded. "Fair enough." She could only guess what Sofia meant; that her mom had her tough as nails before she reached first grade. "So… did you want to work in law enforcement or was that decision made for you?" She wasn't necessarily trying to pry; she was just trying to figure the detective out. And of course, she was curious.

"A little of both. My mother more or less told me that's what I was going to do with my life and as I got older it became what I wanted to do. The line between the two got pretty blurry."

Catherine nodded and they were quiet again for several minutes.

"Ortega thinks I did it. I know he does. What he said to me in there… he didn't say anything like that to Jim or Sergeant Adams, I know it. I could tell by the look on your face when he said it. He thinks I'm incapable of doing my job," she began. Catherine started to interject, but Sofia held up her hand, silencing her. "Please, let me just get through this." Catherine nodded and after a few seconds Sofia continued.

"Everyone at the precinct thinks it's my fault. They just assume because I'm young and a woman that I don't know how to handle a gun, that I'm some inexperienced idiot. They don't want to wait to hear the results. They just want to blame someone. They all hate me so much right now. Last night someone egged my house. This morning someone had spray painted 'cop killer' on my garage door. When I walked in the building this morning nobody would look at me. They all pretended to ignore me but then would bump into me as they walked by. This was left in my locker." She took a small, folded piece of paper from her pocket and slid it across the table. Catherine took it and read it: We all wish it had been you instead. She folded it back up and put it in her bag. Sofia didn't need to be carrying around this piece of paper along with everything else.

"I have never met such hatred before in my life. I feel like no matter what the outcome is, I'll always be the cop who killed a fellow cop. That they'll always look at me with disgust." A few tears trickled down her cheeks, but she didn't bother wiping them away.

Catherine took it as a sign that she had lost all hope, especially since earlier she had been wiping away every single tear the moment it fell. It broke her heart more than she could have imagined, seeing the detective so distraught. She wanted to say something, to do something, to offer some sort of comfort, but she knew Sofia wanted to get it all out with no interruptions, so she kept her hands and her words to herself.

"I keep seeing it, you know? The whole chase and shoot out. It keeps replaying in my head, over and over. And every time I see it, something changes. I don't know what changed, but each time there is some sort of minute change, and now I don't know if what I'm seeing is what really happened, or something my mind made up. I keep trying to look for answers but my mind isn't being reliable. I know I was shooting over his cover, and I know that was wrong. It was a stupid mistake, and it really destroys me that my stupid mistake could have taken his life." She paused again, her voice catching in her throat. More tears had fallen and gone unacknowledged. She drank some more coffee, her hands shaking.

"I can't stop seeing his face. Awake, asleep, eyes open or closed, it's always there. I've gone running, but he's right there at the front of my mind. I tried watching TV but his face is everywhere, on every channel. I can't get away from him. It looks like he's asking me, 'why did you do it?' Like he knew it was me. Like he was blaming me. Blaming me for ripping his family's life apart. For leaving his young wife a widow. For making her raise three children alone and never getting to meet the one she's carrying." That last part popped out before she realized what she said, and it took her by surprise. The enormity of the situation hit her with full force. "Oh God. What did I do?"

Catherine watched as the last bits of strength slipped away. Sofia pressed her face against the wall, covering the visible half with either her hand or her hair. Her whole body was shaking and she started to slowly slide down the wall to the seat of the booth. Catherine didn't waste any time moving to the other side of the booth. She slid in, her back to the rest of the restaurant for added privacy. She stroked Sofia's hair for several seconds before gently pulling her away from the wall and into her arms. She did what she could to offer the distraught detective comfort, rubbing her back and arms and resting her cheek on the younger woman's head.

When Sofia had calmed down, she sat up and used the napkins from the dispenser to wipe her face. Tears continued to spill down her cheeks, but the worst was over. She put her hands in her lap stared at them, unable to meet Catherine's gaze. She was embarrassed to have fallen apart like that, to have left herself so vulnerable.

"Hey," Catherine said, placing her hand on Sofia's shoulder. "Hey. I know this isn't easy, and I know that all this waiting is torture. But don't condemn yourself yet. I know how it must look in your head, that it couldn't have been anyone else. But you said yourself that you aren't sure what really happened. Our minds aren't always reliable. Sometimes our minds fabricate memories, fill in the voids, and make us think we're remembering something correctly when we really aren't. What you are seeing in your head might not be real."

"It all happened so fast. But he was right in front of me. I don't see how it couldn't be me."

"Well, we'll know soon enough. You may find out that you're right. But maybe… maybe you're wrong. Hold on to that."

"It's just that I –" Sofia began, but Catherine cut her off.

"No. Don't talk about it any more. It'll destroy you more than it already has if you keep dwelling on it. You've already told me how you feel and what you remember. You've cried and gotten it out of your system."

"I'm just really afraid of what's going to happen."

"Maybe nothing. Maybe something. But we'll deal with that when the time comes."

"We?" Sofia asked, disdain coloring the edges of her voice.

Catherine was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude. "Yes, we. You're expecting to go through it alone?"

"Yes. Why would you want to stay friends with a cop killer?"

"Oh come on, enough already. You should know you have my support no matter what happens. I know you're a bit weary of me, and you have every right to be. I've treated you like shit, and I know this one conversation, no matter how personal it is, isn't going to make us best friends. But it's a start, and honestly, I don't see anyone else putting herself in my position." She was about to ramble on when Sofia held up a hand, and she fell silent.

"Thank you," she said softly, still looking at her hands. Then she looked up and directly into Catherine's eyes. "Thank you." She tried to smile but was still too close from coming off of crying that it didn't work. She took another sip of her coffee and practically spit it back out.

"Cold?"

Sofia nodded.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

They started to slide out of the booth. Sofia noticed the bill on the end of the table and was reaching for it when Catherine snatched it up.

"Come on. You listened to me cry. The least I can do is buy you coffee," Sofia protested. Catherine wordlessly handed it over to her. Scrawled on the paper was a note: Coffee's on the house. Hope everything turns out okay. Anna. Sofia looked around for their young waitress to thank her, but the girl was nowhere in sight. So she pulled a five out of her pocket for a tip and left it on the table.

The ride back to the crime lab was quiet, but this time it was a comfortable silence. Catherine pulled into her parking space and turned off the car. "If you'd like me to be around when you find out, give me a call," she offered. Sofia nodded and managed to give her a real smile. "Go home. Relax. Try to take your mind off it. Everything will work out."

Sofia nodded in agreement and headed off towards her car. Catherine checked her messages and headed inside, preparing herself for a lecture. She ran into Grissom in the hallway.

"Catherine, where have you been? I've tried calling you several times!" Her supervisor was definitely not happy.

"I've been with Sofia."

"What!"

"Gil, she's a mess. Nobody will talk to her."

"That's because nobody should be talking to her."

"Ah, see - you didn't say that we aren't allowed to talk to her."

"That's a very fine line you're walking on, Catherine."

"This investigation is tearing her apart. She just needed to talk to someone, and I'm the only one willing to listen."

"That's why we have departmental psychologists."

"Oh come on. Would you rather talk to a psychologist?"

"After the way you and the rest of the team has treated her, yes, I probably would. Besides, I didn't think the two of you were friends."

"We're working on it. I'm not sorry for doing it. It was the right thing for me to do. I didn't tell her anything about the investigation. You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not even part of her investigation. I might have had my toe on the line, but it never went across."

They stared at each other for a minute before Grissom sighed. "You know you can't keep her updated on the investigation. She'll find out from her superiors. If you speak again, no lab talk." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Catherine let out a breath, relieved. She looked at the slip of paper that held her assignment and headed back to work.

Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know any thoughts or comments.