Sorry for the wait, I ran into a mild writer's block, but I think I'm over it now. Not too long, but the next part shouldn't be too long in being up. I'll do my best! Don't forget to review!

And this Chapter goes out to Jenny, I know you're having a rough time girl. Hopefully this cheers you up some :P

Chapter 14: Changes

Greg propped his head up in one hand, letting out a sigh before taking another sip of his drink. No, make that a gulp. Frowning he held the glass to one side, watching the remaining colored liquid run together, sloshing in the corner. Had he finished another one already?

He placed the cup down again, running two fingers over the rim, another sigh escaping his lips. His mind was so full at the moment it was a wonder how he was even able to function. Greg hadn't remained behind to hear Sara out, both shocked and hurt at her words. What had he done to make her so afraid of him?

Certainly he had done something, but what? He had never hit her, and anything remotely degrading he had said out loud had all been in jest. Surely she knew that, didn't she? Digging in his pocket Greg pulled free his cell phone, holding it in both hands. 17 missed calls…it wasn't a surprise. He had it set to vibrate; he had felt the phone go off each and every time, but had ignored every one. He was even less surprised to find the number was Sara's.

Shaking his head, Greg let the phone slip back in his pocket. Now wasn't the time to talk; at the moment he didn't feel like talking at any point in the future. How could he, after all that had happened in the few short moments? He was longing to know why Sara had said what she said, wanted an excuse. But that was what she would give him, wasn't it? Another excuse, another lie?

"You want another?" the bartender asked as he walked by. Greg didn't meet his gaze, but nodded, staring intently at the counter.

"No, that's okay, he's had enough."

Greg raised his head as Catherine sat down next to him. She didn't look at him, only proceeded to order herself a soda, paying in advanced. Clearing his throat Greg turned his attention back down at the table. Another drink sounded splendid at the moment, but he wasn't willing to argue with Catherine on that matter. Come to think of it, he never was willing to argue with her period.

"What are you doing here?" Greg wondered dimly, watching as his empty glass was taken.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," Catherine said cheekily, bringing the glass to her lips. After a moment heheard her set it back down on the counter. "Schedule says you're working tonight, and last time I checked the lab didn't hand out two hour breaks."

Greg shook his head slowly. "I'm not going back," he muttered quietly, rubbing his forehead. He was starting to get a headache, and the conversation wasn't helping. Somehow Catherine had a knack for bothering him when he wanted to be left alone the most.

"So you just decided that by yourself? You didn't call anyone, didn't tell anyone. You just left?"

Greg looked up at her again, irritated on how she could seem so peppy at a time like this. "What, are you checking up on me?"

"Yes, and no," she explained, prodding a straw throughout her drink, pushing the cubes of ice down to the bottom before letting the rise once again. "Had an interview with a witness, saw you over here. Grissom's already called to see if I knew where you were. Thought I see why you're avoiding everyone."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Greg said glumly, crossing his arms on the counter before laying his head down.

"Ah…" Catherine nodded her head in understanding. "One of those things huh?"

Greg didn't answer, only tried to block out all the noise that was only increasing his headache. The tactic didn't last long, because Catherine was already talking again.

"Exactly how were you planning on getting home?" she wondered.

"Car's outside," he muttered dimly, his head still on the counter.

He could hear her scoff, and it wasn't hard to imagine her shaking her head at him. "You can't honestly be thinking of driving home. Not after drinking anyways. You'll end up dead, or even worse, you'll kill someone else."

"Thanks," he muttered dryly, shaking his head. "I'll be fine though, I've only had a few anyways. I'm not even above the limit."

"Well in that case just sit tight, I'll get Brass on the phone and we'll get someone to give you a breathalyzer test. That way, when you blow the limit, we can save you the trouble of a ticket."

She was already pulling her phone out when Greg grabbed her arm, shaking his head. "What is it that you want?"

"I want to know what's going on. You're not even acting like yourself. You barely drink Greg, and at the moment, you're completely drunk."

"I am not," he scoffed, rubbing his forehead again. "I've only had…" he came to a pause, trying to recall how many he had actually had.

"You see," Catherine pointed out, finishing the last of her soda. "You can't even remember."

"That doesn't prove anything," Greg argued.

"How about this," Catherine suggested. "I'll give you a ride home, and tell Grissom you took the rest of the night off because you're not feeling well. After you get through what I'm guessing will be a massive hangover when you wake up, you can come back in. I won't say a word to anyone else."

"I told you, I'm not going back," Greg stated, "ever."

She only shook her head, sighing. "You can't make that decision now."

Greg only raised an eyebrow, staring at her. "Why not?"

"Because you're drunk," she stated simply.

"Will you stop saying that?" Greg complained. "I am not drunk."

It was as if Catherine had barely heard him. "You have very little idea what you're talking about. I highly doubt you have intentions to throw five years of training down the drain just like that."

Greg let out a sigh, taking in this new information. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He reached out for his glass, groaning as he realized it was no longer there. He brought his hand back, rubbing his forehead again. "Okay, so what are my choices?"

Catherine leaned against the counter, waving the bar tender off as he came by again. "You can let me give you a ride home, and no one will know about this except for the two of us. Or you can leave on your own, in which case I'll have Brass waiting for you at your door."

Greg closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You wouldn't really call me in, would you?"

"You want to try me?" she wondered lightly.

Greg shook his head again, muttering under his breath.

"Smart choice," Catherine commented with a short laugh. It was then her phone went off, buried somewhere deep in the small purse she carried with her. It didn't take long for her to fish it out, and Greg barely listened as she took the call.

His mind was racing again. After he had left Sara's place, he had no intentions of going back to lab. The simple fact that he would have to face her sooner or later worried him. Their last meeting hadn't exactly been the best one, and he didn't want to hear any more reasons.

At the same time he hadn't thought about actually leaving. In all reality, he couldn't do it. He had nowhere to go, nothing to build on. It was here that he belonged, whether or not he would admit it. In the short five years of being here in Vegas he had come to know everyone better than his own family. It was his coworkers he would call first, not his family, if he landed in trouble.

Next to him Catherine ended the call, letting out a sigh as she dropped it back in her purse. Greg met her worried gaze with a blatant stare. It only took him a second to figure out something was wrong, eventhrough his hazy mind. "What is it?"

Catherine slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder, turning away from him. "There's been a change of plans. Grissom needs to see you now."

Greg groaned quietly, looking up at her. "Now?"

Catherine only nodded, motioning for him to follow. Greg bit his lip, pushing himself to his feet, not even protesting when Catherine linked her arm in his in order to help him walk straight. He hadn't done anything wrong, so to say. However he was unable to ignore the icy pit that was growing in thepit of his stomach.

TBC…

LuvinNickyStokes

Lol, there is a reason, don't worry. It won't come out for a few more chapters though. But everything will be explained in full.

SleepyHead22

Don't feel bad, I've done it as well, as has my friend. We shared lockers in band, and we had so much trouble, lol. That is where I got the idea from. It is funny, no matter how embarrassing it is. I suppose it happens to everyone at least once sometime in life, right?

Sugar Pill

I came up with that idea after about three different rewrites. This chapter took even longer, blame it on mild writer's block. So glad it's over with. Hopefully you will as well :D

Jenny

-Doges rotten fruit-

Okay, maybe not rotten, but it sounds better than dodging fresh fruit. Besides, that's just a waste of food, you should really find something else to throw…I did not just say that, did I? No more ideas for you…

And thanks to everyone else who reviewed! I love reading your thoughts. I always say that, don't I? Lol, I'll beg if I have to! Review please!