Catherine's POV:
I lived in his shadow for as long as I could remember. It was always Dr. Grissom and Ms. or Mrs. Willows. I never commanded the respect that Gil did. He was the brilliant thinker . . . master of the unconventional experiment. I was more content walking the streets and interviewing suspects for answers. I knew that I didn't have the science savvy that Grissom did, but I had political savvy that Gil could only dream of.
The minute Eckley said that I would be manager of swing shift, I was pissed. I wanted days; I had vocally stated that I wanted day shift. I wanted to be home for some part of my daughter's life. Swing shift was a euphemism for 'doesn't work days, doesn't work nights, kind of picks up what the other shifts don't have time for.' It meant long hours and crappy cases.
I rarely saw Lindsey anymore. I often worked from five in the evening until five in the morning. My extra hours weren't because I was working on a hot case; my extra hours stemmed from a ridiculous amount of paperwork. It meant that I only saw Lindsey for fifteen minutes in the morning before she caught the bus to school. The baby-sitter did all the real work; she made sure Lindsey did her homework . . . she carted Lindsey from violin practice to play practice. Someone else was raising my daughter.
I was pissed at everyone around me. I took out my anger on everyone around me. Well, I took out a lot of my anger on Sara and Grissom. Sara took me on full force; I knew that she wouldn't back down from a fight. Sara never did. If Eckley hadn't been witness to the whole debacle, I probably would have let the situation go. I was a wise woman; I knew that everything Sara said had been true.
Grissom was much more passive-aggressive in his approach to me. He made it clear that I should keep my nose out of his business; Gil also made it clear that there needed to be a separation between swing and nights. He had told me that he would no longer 'loan' his CSIs to my shift. Gil had rejected my requests the last five times I had asked. I ended up asking days; they just laughed at me. Days was notorious for not getting along with anyone, but themselves. I always ended up working late.
My exhaustion and anger came out in the most subtle of ways; I would talk about Sara behind her back. I had warned Nick and Warrick that they weren't to be on a scene with her. I think I actually called Sara 'a mad woman with a gun.' I had told Eckley that he needed to revise Grissom's decision about Sara. I had told Eckley that Grissom might not be fit to continue to manage a shift. I had said all these things in anger. I'm not sure if I really meant them. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.
Three months ago, I would have struggled to find out what was bothering Sara. Three months ago, I would have helped Greg help Sara. That was what we used to do; we used to take care of each other despite the consequences. I missed that so much.
I had burnt bridges that I didn't intend to. Becoming Eckley's right hand woman was never in the master plan, but I find myself playing politics in an attempt to steal the day shift away from its current manager. I tell myself that it's all for Lindsey. It's all for the little girl that's becoming a young woman that I no longer know or understand. It's about trying to give my daughter a family. It's about trying to curb the violent behavior that Lindsey had perpetuated after Eddie's death. I had reasons for all my actions.
I didn't realize that Nick and Warrick would get caught up in my politics. I didn't realize that Sara, Greg, and Sophia would be so quick to alienate Nick and Warrick from the friends that they used to have. I didn't think I would cause a divide the size of the Grand Canyon. My mother always said that it was 'Catherine against the world.' I never disappointed my mother.
I sat at my desk. There was a mountain of paperwork to my left and a stack of requisition slips to my right. My daughter had left for the school bus fifteen minutes earlier. She left without saying good-bye to me, without telling me what to pack in her lunch, without telling me where she was going after school. It made my heart break while making my blood boil.
I needed to make something change.