Title: Pretense
Author: SLynn
Rating: T

Pairing: Greg/OFC shades of Greg/Sara
Spoilers: Up to '4X4'/Season 5
Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read this?

Summary: A case hits too close to home for Greg, causing turmoil in his life. Set late Season 5.

Notes: Thank you, Tripp3235, for beta'ing this thing for the past thousand years. And for still watching CSI with me and encouraging me to keep writing about it. Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

"Instead of focusing on what we don't have, lets focus on what we do," Grissom tried.

"But the thing we don't have is a body," Greg argued, rubbing his temples with his fingers and shutting his eyes tightly in frustration.

After five hours on scene, and another three at the lab, Sara and Greg had gotten nowhere on their case. They'd just gone over the whole thing, again, with Grissom. Not that it mattered. At this point, either a body would turn up or it wouldn't. There wasn't much else they could do about it but wait and see.

"Are you certain there is one?" Grissom asked.

Greg and Sara exchanged a quick look, but they were both in agreement. Even though the blood had been dried by the time they'd arrived, they were still fairly certain that whatever had happened, had happened recently and been hastily cleaned up. All it took was a good hot day, and Vegas had plenty of those, to do the rest.

"There was a lot of blood," Sara finally stated. "Without medical attention, a person can only lose about four pints worth, and there was at least that much in the car."

"Gallons," Greg added, earning a reproving look from the other two.

"It wasn't gallons," Sara corrected.

"Gallons might be an exaggeration," Greg conceded, knowing the neither Sara nor Grissom liked to hear anything that wasn't factual where cases were concerned, "but it was a lot."

"And you ran the plate? The registration?"

"We tried," Sara answered, "but the whole system is down. Won't be back up again until Monday."

"Monday?" Grissom repeated in disbelief looking at each of them in turn.

"It's the DMV," Greg said. "We tried explaining the situation and they just don't care."

"Okay, what about fingerprints?"

Greg rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and pressing his lips together tightly.

"Still waiting," Sara offered, pushing Greg's chair back down onto all four legs.

"And waiting, and waiting..."

"Is there a problem?" Grissom asked, quite seriously.

"Only in his head," Sara answered. "He thinks Mandy slow rolls his requests because she doesn't like him."

"No," Greg corrected. "She's slow rolling my requests because she may have misinterpreted a comment I may have made and is a little angry with me right now."

"What did she misinterpret?" Grissom asked.

Greg looked to Sara for support, but quickly realized none was forthcoming.

With a sigh, he began. "Mandy may have gotten the impression that I don't think her work is as detailed as Jacqui's."

"How did she get that impression?" Grissom asked.

Again, Greg looked briefly to Sara, who simply waved her hand for him to continue.

"Because I told her that I don't think her work is as detailed as Jacqui's."

"Greg," Grissom sighed, going no further.

"It was constructive criticism," he shrugged. "And she's going to have to get used to it, especially around here. No one is exactly shy about calling you out on your shortcomings."

"It wasn't constructive," Sara argued.

"I only suggested she might want to ask Jacqui for some pointers," Greg said, still determined on being right. "She's lucky to have someone with so much experience around. My predecessor in the DNA lab wasn't even current on blood typing when I got here."

"I still don't understand why you think she's purposely not processing your evidence," Grissom interjected.

"Because, she's mad at me so my stuff is automatically put on the bottom of the pile. That's just how it works. All the techs do it. It's also why I wanted Sara to hand in the evidence."

"I went in with you."

"But you made me do the talking," Greg returned.

"Here's some constructive criticism, Greg. Don't make the techs mad."

"Did you ever slow roll my evidence?" Grissom asked, ignoring the argument happening before him.

"No," Greg said, shaking his head.

"What about mine?" Sara asked.

"Three of four times."

"Oh."

"A night."

Sara only stared at him, as Grissom shook his head and got to his feet.

"Take a break," he said as he made his way to the door. "Both of you. A long one."

After the door shut behind Grissom, both Sara and Greg sat mutely for a minute or more, neither looking at the other.

"Want to grab some dinner?" Greg finally asked, standing and stretching before he began to gather up the beginnings of their case file.

"I think he meant we should probably take a break from each other."

Greg stopped what he was doing and turned to her. His expression was caught between amused and incredulous.

"Really?"

Sara just nodded, as if it should be obvious.

"I wasn't trying to start a fight with you," Greg said, quite sincerely. "Especially not in front of Grissom. I'm sorry."

"I know you weren't," Sara assured him. "And it takes two people to have an argument. It's been a long day for both of us. Long and frustrating."

"You forgot fruitless."

"Yes, that too."

"You know," Greg said after another, easier, silence, "I was thinking we could try the hospitals. See if there are any 911 calls for a woman in labor on the highway. A baby seat doesn't mean there's a baby, yet. Maybe she was on her way to the hospital and went into labor."

"That's a big maybe," Sara said, mulling it over. "But it's worth a shot. We can ask Mia to check for amniotic fluid in the blood. Still... it was a lot of blood."

"If it was a woman in labor, the mixed fluids would have made it appear as if there was more blood," Greg added hopefully. "Could get a happy ending on this one."

"We could."

Sara smiled, knowing how much a happy ending would mean to Greg. He never denied the evidence at hand, but seemed eternally optimistic that things would turn out for the best. Sara wasn't sure if that made her want to laugh or cry. Not for the first time she worried about what this job would do to him.

"So," Greg said, having finally finished organizing up the layout room, "are we on?"

"Sure," Sara agreed, getting up and moving with him out of the room and to the storage room where their files would be locked until they returned.

"How does sushi sound?" Greg asked as they headed for her car. His was still at his apartment, and even if it wasn't, Sara would never let him drive.

"Like we'd be waiting forever," Sara answered. "It's eight-thirty on a Saturday night. We should just grab something quick. Everywhere we go is going to be swamped."

"It's Saturday?" Greg asked, looking horrorstruck as he came to a complete halt just inside the garage.

"Yes. The day that follows Friday."

"Oh... that's why it kept ringing," Greg said through gritted teeth, taking out his phone and rapidly scrolling through his call log. "She's going to kill me."

"We don't have to go if you have other plans," Sara said, feeling suddenly dejected by the thought, even if, moments before, she hadn't thought going anywhere with Greg was the best of ideas.

"No," Greg said quickly, stopping to look up at her as he spoke. "Let's go. I'm starved. But, do you mind if I make a call on the way?"

"No," Sara said, after a pause. "Go ahead. She's your girlfriend. Call her."

"I'm not calling..." Greg said with a blush. "It's not... It's my mom. I was supposed to call her today so we could talk and of course I forgot. She's kind of going through a difficult time right now."

"Oh," Sara said simply. "Are you sure you don't want some privacy?"

"No, but I don't want to be rude."

"Call her," Sara said as she started the car.

Greg nodded firmly and pulled up her number in his contacts. Sara could hear it ringing faintly in the background and reached over to turn on the radio, finding what she hoped was the perfect volume to block out enough of the conversation and still allow Greg to participate in it.

"Hi, Mom," Greg said after a few moments of waiting. "Sorry I didn't call sooner. I just got away from the lab."

"I was starting to worry. I at least hope you're getting overtime for all the hours they make you put in at that place."

Greg let out a small laugh, and despite being unable to hear what had caused him to do so, Sara smiled along with him.

"How are things going?" he asked. "How are you?"

"How am I supposed to be?" she shot back at him. "The papers were filed yesterday."

"Have you got a lawyer yet?"

Sara caught the harsh laugh even above the din of the music, but kept her eyes fixed to the road.

"Mom, you need a lawyer. We've talked about this. You need someone to make sure you get a fair settlement."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm not qualified and I'm not getting involved."

"It's not like I'm asking you to represent me in court..."

"Mom, I wouldn't even know where to begin or what to look for..."

"Well what the hell did we even send you to college for?" she fired back at him.

"To study chemistry," Greg answered quietly, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up his neck as he turned and stared out the passenger side window.

"And a lot of good it's done," she returned bitterly. "You moved away from me to that cesspool of a city to work god-awful hours for a next-to-nothing salary. Why on earth you wouldn't just take the position we'd lined up for you..."

"Because I didn't want to work for Dad," Greg cut in quickly. "We've... I'm not talking about this again. Not right now. I just wanted to call and see how you were and make sure..."

"I've hired Marty Simmons."

"Good," Greg said, the word coming out like a clipped breath.

Sara chanced a glance in Greg's direction, but was unable to catch his attention.

"Your father wasn't happy to hear that," she added, with no small amount of satisfaction. "Have you talked to him lately?"

"A few nights ago."

"Did he mention me? Did he tell you what's been happening?"

"No. We don't talk about it. He knows how I feel and..." Greg trailed off, shaking his head despite the fact that there was no way his mother could see him.

"And?"

"And," Greg continued on reluctantly, "he doesn't press the issue."

"So you think I'm the one to blame, don't you?"

"Of course not."

"Then you should be supporting me," she said, her voice growing louder with each passing word. "I'm your mother."

"And he's still my father," Greg said, trying to get her to see reason.

"Do you even know what he did?"

"Mom, now is not the time," Greg said, squirming in his seat as Sara pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. "I'm on my dinner break right now and I don't have long. I really just wanted to say hello and..."

"Fine," she interrupted briskly, cutting him off and hanging up.

"Goodbye," Greg finished to no one as he shut the phone off and hazarded a look at Sara.

Sara turned off the car and the both sat in silence outside the small sushi shop they frequented together.

"Sorry about that," Greg said, holding up his phone briefly before putting it away.

"About what? I don't... you don't have to say anything..." Sara stammered at a momentary loss. "I wasn't listening."

Greg laughed at her.

"I wasn't."

"I appreciate that you were trying not to listen," Greg said as they got out of the car together and made their way up the small flight of steps and into the crowded restaurant. "But I know better than that. First, my mom talks way too loud. And second, you can't help yourself. It's what you do."

Sara pressed her lips together and gave him a nod. She really hadn't been trying to listen in, but her mind had already filled the gaps of conversation she didn't actually hear.

"Are you okay?" she asked as they took a seat at the counter.

"Mostly I'm just trying not to think about it."

"Well," Sara said, her eyes darting between the menu and Greg, "if you need someone to talk about it with..."

"Thanks, Sara," Greg said quickly, "but you don't want to hear me complaining. It's fine. Really."

"No, I mean it. I'm here for you."

Greg stopped and looked at her, quite seriously, before softly saying, "Thank you."

"So?" she asked after they'd ordered their food and drinks.

"You mean right now?" he asked, finally smiling again.

"Might as well."

"Okay, but... there's not much to say," Greg answered. "I really am okay with it. Lots of couples get divorced. I can't say I'm really surprised."

"Huh."

"What?" Greg asked.

"I guess I just always assumed you had this perfect family."

"Who has one of those?"

Sara nodded.

"The hardest part of this whole thing is that my mom keeps pushing me to take sides. It's like she's forgotten I'm an adult and there won't be a custody battle. But, I can't exactly blame her either. I mean my dad... while he's great at being a dad, he makes a pretty poor husband."

Sara didn't know what to say. Anything she could think of to say sounded like she was prying. And, as she'd learned today, Greg apparently kept his private life a lot more private than she'd ever given him credit for.

"I mean," Greg rattled on, always a big talker when he got on a roll, "this isn't even the first time it's happened. I knew eventually it would be one time too many. Usually these things blow over between them, but not without a really expensive gift and a vacation and a thousand promises, but..." Greg shrugged. "You really don't want to hear this."

"So why do you think this time was different?"

"Oh, I know why."

Sara raised her eyebrow at him and waited.

"This time his girlfriend got pregnant."