Warrick's POV:

Nick talked me into going out to a late breakfast this morning at the diner that we used to go to. We hadn't set foot in the tiny diner since the day that Nick and I were 'reassigned' to swing shift. I'll never forget the way Grissom looked that day. The disappointment was apparent in his eyes. I think he knew what the future would hold. I think he knew that swing and nights were like ships in the night; we had started traveling in opposite directions. I think it might have worked out just as Catherine had planned.

Nick and I sat at the booth we always sat at. We waited to them to file in for breakfast. I was nervous; I'm sure that it didn't show. People had always accused me of being too calm and too put together. Nick certainly looked so much more nervous than I did. He drummed his fingers on the table. Nick had been a little fidgety since he suggested that we try to hook with nights. He suggested that we try to rebuild some of the bridges that we had inadvertently burned along the way.

Catherine wouldn't approve. For some reason she believed that the old nightshift was somehow stronger divided. She had slowly become another person, or the vindictive, angry part of her personality was becoming more and more apparent. I knew that because I had been severely burnt by her new found attitude when I tried to build a personal relationship with her. She was becoming a very wicked woman.

The four of them walked past us without a second look. I had never felt like I didn't exist before. I found myself wondering when they started forgetting how good it used to be, but Grissom never did hold on to the past.

"Should we . . . ?" Nick asked. I think he was wondering when the significance of this particular booth had faded into days that were so different than the climate we currently lived in.

"No, man. I think it's over," I replied.

"What if Sara needs us?" Nick asked. He strained his neck to see where the nightshift was sitting. I turned around. They looked happy. Sara looked like maybe Greg had been able to heal whatever it was that plagued her for so many years. I guess I wasn't surprised that Greg could heal her. He had never given up on Sara. I think we might have begun to give up on Sara sometime before the split even happened. Greg had been faithful. Greg had been there when Sara needed him. Sara had always been there for us, but I think we let her fall to the wayside months ago.

"I don't think she needs us anymore," I said as I watched the four of them talk and laugh. Sara didn't even seem to mind that Grissom and Sophia sat close to each other. Sara didn't seem to mind that Grissom occasionally held Sophia's gaze a little longer than he held Sara's. Sara laughed with them like I don't think I ever remember hearing Sara laugh. Greg seemed relaxed. He looked so comfortable in his own skin. Greg looked like a CSI. I should have been proud, but I was sad.

"So it's all over just like that?" Nick asked. He outwardly sounded like he was feeling the same things that I held inside.

"She's happy, Nick. Greg takes good care of her," I replied.

"What do you think changed?" Nick asked. Sara had essentially become a different person within a week.

"I think she put some old demons to rest," I replied. It was bittersweet to see Sara healed. It was down right bitter to see how a British blonde could so easily replace Nick and me. My grandmother always said 'a new broom sweeps clean.' The new nightshift had swept Sara clean of all that threatened to tear her apart.