Chapter Three

Every time Sara thought about that party, she could feel herself being enveloped into Grissom's arms; she could hear his compliment that he shared with her; she could feel his chest beneath her fingertips. But–then she would also remember how he jumped at the chance to (as Sophia put it) go home with the blonde woman. She had a feeling that her comrades knew her heart was breaking–again–as they tried to cheer her up throughout the night, and she had found a stronger relationship with Catherine since their argument a few months before. Somehow the addition of Sophia to their staff cemented Sara's and Catherine's relationship, mostly out of self-preservation. Catherine knew that Sophia posed a threat to her position at CSI, and Sara knew the threat was imminent regarding her heart where Gilbert Grissom was concerned. Catherine even talked Sara into going to the party that night. And, it was Catherine who went with her to pick out the dress and heels. So, when Sophia tried to criticize Sara's attire, the look that crossed the older woman's face showed a fifty-fifty chance that she was going to strangle the blonde before the end of the night.

Sara had been driven home by Greg that night and she thanked him for a wonderful evening (even though Nick, Warrick, Jim and Catherine were just as responsible for preventing her complete breakdown over watching Grissom leave with Sophia). Then, after politely telling him that she would see him at work, she entered her apartment and moved across her living room to her bedroom. She slowly dragged herself to her mirror where she looked at her reflection and wondered just what it was that Sophia had that she was lacking. Sara turned from the mirror and removed her heels and red dress, then after pulling off her stockings, she threw on a pair of sweat-shorts and a tank top, then went into the bathroom to clean the make-up off. A quick brush of her hair that she pulled back into a ponytail and brush of her teeth, and she moved back to her bed where she lay in the darkness.

She stared at the dim light coming in through the window, and let the tears fall as she thought back over how close she had become to Gil. She remembered working the case with the couples who participated in spouse swapping, and her conversation with Grissom about the jealousy gene and how she felt that if you had to go outside of your marriage to find passion–you were looking for trouble and would very likely find it. She remembered him bringing her a cup of tea and sitting with her, completely engulfed in their conversation as he looked into her eyes. But then Sophia came, and he backed away from Sara so fast that she was left with her head spinning. She didn't know how many times she had seen the two of them retreat into his office for long conversations, most of the time, their heads together as they laughed at some joke that was meant only for them to hear. And the fact that he took her out to dinner was a cold slap in the face to Sara. She vowed to close her heart at that point, knowing it was no use anymore. She would only know sorrow with Grissom.

It was at the party, he–being Grissom–managed to raise her hopes again. He had a way of speaking to her that could make her knees turn to rubber, and when he told her she looked enchanting, she thought her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. He held her close and she felt completely at home there, as if she had been made specifically to fit into his embrace. And then Sophia returned. The memory sickened her, so closing her eyes tightly, she let sleep take her to a sweet escape, where there was no Grissom and no Sophia. She could sleep in peace.

When Sara came to work the following night, she noticed a difference immediately. She felt it in the air; an almost crackling sensation whenever Grissom would come near her, which was often. He handed out the assignments, saving Sara for last before informing her that she was with him that night. There was a DB at a hotel on the strip and they were to investigate. She simply nodded and started for her Denali, but stopped when she was nearly halfway across the parking garage.

"Sara," Grissom called after her. "Over here–you're riding with me."

Sara turned around to look at him at the same instant Sophia entered the garage behind him and turned his attention back to her. Sara only watched a moment as they started a discussion that she had no desire to overhear. So, breathing a deep sigh, she turned and continued on to her vehicle and pulled out of the garage on her way to process another victim.

As she parked at the hotel's garage, she had no desire to discuss her decision to "disobey" her boss and take her own vehicle, so when she saw him speedily pulling his Denali up close to hers, she wasted little time getting inside the building. She was happy to see Jim Brass at the scene, hoping his presence would alleviate any tension that could be brewing between Grissom and herself. Brass turned and looked at her from a distance of about fifteen feet, his slight smile comforting her as she approached him, but the sound of the door slamming closed behind her, turned Brass' attention to the man quickly approaching his subordinate.

"I thought I told you to wait–that you were to ride with me!" Grissom said sharply.

"Really?" Sara played dumb. "I thought you were speaking to Sophia."

"Why would I be speaking to Sophia when she's not even on this case?" He continued to walk next to her as they approached the room where Brass stood, watching them.

"Well, lets see," Sara said slowly, as if explaining something to a child. "I heard you say something about riding with you, then I turned to see Sophia approaching you. It only makes sense that she was the one you were talking to and she was going to get in your Denali."

"Yeah," he said sarcastically as he entered the room with a very amused Brass that neither of them realized was listening to their every word. "That makes sense. I was talking to Sophia. That's why I called you by name."

"Hmmm," Sara acknowledged Brass with a small smile. "I must not have heard you."

Within moments, they went to work with the female that was lying on the bed–back to business as they checked the room, then Grissom disappeared to process the bathroom as Sara started dusting for fingerprints. Within a few minutes, Greg showed up and went to help Grissom before they reunited back in the main room where Sara informed them that there were no prints to be found.

They left the hotel and returned to the lab where they started processing their information. Soon, Sara was leaving with Jim to look into a lead and didn't see Grissom again until much later in the day. He approached her as she was going over the information she had worked to retrieve. When she explained what exactly she discovered, she became more and more tense as she noticed that the more she talked, the closer he was watching her. Grissom never watched her like this before, as if he were hanging on her every word, and when he complimented her on her ability, she could only manage a short smile in response, being completely thankful when Greg came into the room to inform them of his evidence.

By the time they were through, she was famished, so with a quick word to Greg, she agreed to meet him in the break room for a bite before returning to their case. She hesitated when she went through the doorway; the sight of Sophia lounging on one of the chairs, making her hunger go away, but Greg was directly behind her and nearly pushed her inside so he could get to a cup of his coffee. Sophia watched Sara as she went to retrieve her lunch from the refrigerator, never letting her eyes wander from her as Sara went to the other end of the table. There was a self-satisfied smile curving Sophia's lips as Sara sat down.

"So–Sara–did you have a nice time dancing?" Sophia asked without any change in emotion.

"It was alright."

"Alright?" Greg asked as he sat opposite Sara. "Your feet should be bleeding from the amount of dancing you did. I don't think you were ever without a partner."

"Danced the night away, did you?" Asked Sophia as she glanced past Sara toward the hallway, then back to Sara. "I'm afraid I wasn't as interested in "dancing" as you were. I was busy–with "other" activities–although it definitely involved a partner. Speaking of which–if you'll excuse me, I was to meet Grissom about right now."

Sara didn't know if she felt more hurt or angry as she watched Sophia leave the room and travel down the hall where she met Grissom. Grissom looked at Sophia when she placed her hand on his arm, then glanced up at Sara, but Sophia quickly regained his attention and they turned and started back toward his office again.

Sara didn't know how exactly she managed to get through the rest of the case with Grissom. She was seeing red, but still, she wouldn't humiliate herself by being unprofessional anymore. She went through the correct moves and said the correct things, then when their suspect had all but admitted everything, she returned to the locker room and prepared to leave. She was just closing her locker when she saw Grissom enter the room with her.

"Sara?"

"Hmm?" She glanced back to her locker before looking at him again.

"I wanted to. . ." He stopped, not finding the words that he wanted to say, and she didn't want to hear anything that would tear her heart any farther apart.

"Hey, kiddo!" Nick leaned in through the doorway when he saw Sara inside. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes. I was just about to walk out the door."

"Would you mind dropping me off at the garage? My trucks getting worked on and since I know it's on your way home–I thought. . ."

"Sure, Nick." She grabbed her things and walked past Grissom, joining Nick in the doorway before starting down the hall. "No problem."

On their way to pick up Nick's truck, they stopped at "Frank's Restaurant" and ordered breakfast, then made plans to meet at a less formal place for a night of music and dancing. Sara had a feeling it was going to lean more toward Nick's taste of country and western, but at this point she didn't mind. She needed something to distract her; something that she could do to block out the visions of Grissom in his tux, and Sophia in her slut-dress (oops, she meant blue gown), as they made love in the woman's home. As they ate, they discussed the options and decided that since they both had the following night off, they would meet at the "Blue Dixie" at around nine o'clock.

Under orders to "dress country casual," Sara stood in front of her mirror that night. She didn't know just how "country" she looked, but she was teetering on "sexy" casual. She wore a simple blue tank top with black lace around the neckline–a neckline that if looked at closely, gave you little glimpses of a set of pert breasts. She looked lower at the jeans that hugged her like a second skin–she actually thought she could count the change in her pocket. She didn't have anything that even resembled boots that would be fit for this occasion, so she slid on a pair of heels. She grabbed a black blazer on her way out the door and headed for an evening of relaxation with her friend.

As she approached the entrance to the small club, she found Nick waiting for her just outside the door. He smiled his wide "Nick" smile at her and they entered the building with the sounds of Faith Hill singing "This Kiss."

"Would you like a drink?" Nick said loudly as he tried to raise his voice above the music and the crowd.

"Soda–please," Sara said back to him as he put his hand on the small of her back and escorted her to the bar.

"Diet Pepsi alright?" Nick asked as he handed the glass to her.

"That's fine." She leaned back against a bar stool and took a sip from the liquid, then glanced up to see the impatient smile playing on Nick's lips as he watched her. "You'd rather dance right now, wouldn't you?"

"No–no! Go ahead and drink. I'm fine," he told her, but still, she could see that he was practically ready to bounce out of his boots.

She chuckled to herself then took another sip before sitting it on the bar and turning back to him. She barely had time to fully get off of the bar stool before she was being pulled out to the dance floor. Bonnie Raitt's "Something to Talk About" was playing and Nick wasted no time getting into the rhythm of the music with his partner. Sara certainly couldn't deny that Nick Stokes was a very competent dancer and within moments he had her laughing with him as they moved to the music. Their stature and physique had others staring at them in no time and backing away to watch the show, but Sara didn't seem to mind and Nick gloried in it, prompting him to move into a sort of country version of dirty dancing, being careful not to touch her too intimately–after all, he wasn't in the habit of becoming intimate with women he considered as a little sister. By the end of the song, Sara's anxieties were so relieved that she hugged Nick with appreciation. But before long, they were moving with the music of Trisha Yearwood's "How Do I Live," and as he held her close and swayed with her, her thoughts took in the words of the song and automatically went back to Grissom. Sara danced slowly with Nick and when he saw a tear slide down her cheek, he reached up and wiped it away for her. He tilted his head with a sober curiosity as he watched her.

"Girl, you've got to get that man out of your head. He's doing you no good and you deserve so much better."

Sara sniffed and tried to smile at him. "What man?"

"I'm not sure–but whoever it is, he's not good enough for you, kiddo. Come on, we better sit this one out and let you take a breather."

"No–no, I'm fine. Really."

"Okay," he said slowly. "Whatever you say. Just no more sad songs–okay?"