Sara groaned and rolled over amidst the sea of blankets that covered her nudity and groped for her cell phone. She cursed and pushed her messy hair back out of her face as she looked at the digital clock's annoyingly bright green numbers. It was only lunch time but she'd had little or no sleep. Whoever was calling had better have a damn good reason for waking her.
"Sidle." She croaked. Her throat felt dry and scratchy—and above all else–pasty. She and Greg had gotten into a few too many Revs the night before...and they were so tasty she could hardly say no, hence the awful taste in her mouth. She licked her lips in a vain attempt to moisten the dryness that had accumulated there over night. She could hear the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the undeniable smell of fresh coffee and pancakes. Still, she had to fight the urge to throw up. The band playing Dixieland in her head didn't help matters either.
"Sara?"
"Arrrrr..too much light...too much..." She groaned again, placing her free hand on her head–this time louder and with total and utter annoyance at the voice on the other end. "What?"
"I'm sorry to do this to you but I need you to come in and finish processing Julia Kent's things."
"Griss, It's only lunch time." She practically whined. "I still have a full shift after that, right?" The only day that she wanted and needed to get some extra sleep he was calling her. Before she could stop herself she added "Are you sure you can't get along without me?"
There was a slight pause, then he cleared his throat. "Are you feeling alright?"
She was tired, cranky, and now, going to get ready for work a full seven hours before she needed to be. "Is that a trick question?"
"No." He said mildly, almost amused. "But it is the first time since I've known you that you've complained about coming into work early." Another pause, and then. "And Sara, I'm sorry but I really do need you now. Her family will be notified within the hour."
"Fine. I'll be there." She agreed glumly. "But I'm eating my breakfast first." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose to find a t-shirt.
"That's fine, Sara." He replied. "Oh, and Sara?"
"Ya?" She bent down and retrieved Greg's white t-shirt and a pair of boxers that were lying beside them. If his underwear was on the floor than that meant he was in her kitchen wearing...
Grissom's stoic voice cut through her cloudy thoughts. "I'm glad to see that you took my advice."
"What advice?"
"About you finding a life outside of the lab. I'm happy for you."
"Oh..." She scratched her head, considered what he'd said. "Thanks...I guess."
"Come an get 'em!" Greg's voice called from the kitchen. "Get out of bed, sleepyhead!" He called again when she didn't answer fast enough.
"Be right there!" She called, then winced, hoping that she had some Tylenol left or it was gonna be a long day. She pulled on the t-shirt and boxers and made her way into the kitchen. She stopped and leaned against the doorway and, even though it hurt to do so, she began to laugh. "Oh Greg, that is quite possibly the cutest outfit I've seen you wear yet."
He turned around, gave her a wicked grin. "You said that you like easy access. I was just trying to make it easy for you." He waggled his eyebrows. " In case you may want to take advantage of me again sometime soon."
She slid into a chair, doubled over. "I'll keep that in mind." She wished that she could take a picture of the sight: Greg Sanders standing in her kitchen amidst a wonderful breakfast consisting of bacon (for him), eggs, pancakes and coffee...and wearing nothing but her apron.
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"Catherine!"
She was already walking away as fast as she could. Tracey cringed as she watched the various emotions play over Warrick's face; Surprise, then anger, then fear. He loved this woman, no matter the circumstances. He turned to her, threw his napkin down on the table. "I 'm sorry Tracey. I have to go catch her." He watched her face anxiously. "I'll be right back. I promise."
"Go." She answered. "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble for you." She turned and watched his back, feeling guilty for the scene that had played out before her.
He turned and jogged out of the restaurant in search of Catherine. She may have gotten ahead of him, but he had longer legs and soon he spotted her near the door. He had to run to catch her without making a scene. "Catherine!"
If she heard him she ignored it and pushed her way out the heavy glass. She was furious and had never felt so hurt by a man in all her life. Not even Eddie had evoked this kind of anger from her. She hadn't meant to follow him that morning...she'd just missed him, wanted to find a way to make peace between them...and when she'd seen his Denali leave the drive she'd followed. But when he'd gone into the hotel she'd started to feel suspicious. She'd actually watched him with Jamey at the table for a few minutes. She felt stupid to not have noticed before. But how, how, could Jamey do this to her? In her haste, Catherine did not realize that he had not been sitting with Jamey Kent. Had she looked closer she would have seen the differences, but her anger had kept her from being rational.
"Damn you!" She muttered, swiping at her eyes, angry at herself for being weak. "Damn you!"
"Catherine!"
She didn't look back, just kept going toward the parking lot, her anger making her see red. It was different with him; It always had been. With Warrick he could hurt her so deeply it felt like she would never recover; The words, the looks, the energy that sizzled and peaked between them was like electricity. No one had ever made her feel more loved, more alive, or at the moment, more murderous.
"Hold up, Cath!" He shouted, nearly as angry as she. "Just stop for a damn minute!" He may as well have been talking to the wind for all the response he was getting. When he'd had enough, he doubled his strides and grabbed her roughly by the arm, whipping her around.
"Get your hands off me!" She screamed, red faced, tears coursing down her cheeks. She struggled until he clamped both hands around her shoulders.
"No!" He shouted back. "You have to listen to me!"
"Why should I? You're a liar!" She spat, breathing heavy and if looks could kill he would have burned to an ember. "And to think that I was trying to make things right between us...and you're dating...you're dating Jamey behind my back! You're..."
"Shut up! Shut up and listen to me!" He shouted. "That is not Jamey!"
"Bull-shit!" She screamed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
His nostrils flared and his eyes watered in his anger. Temper had reached the surface and was now coming out of him, his pores, his mind, his heart. "It's not Jamey!" He yelled directly in her face. "It's her sister! She's looking for their cousin. I'm not having an affair!"
She stopped struggling and looked at him. "You're not? Jamey has a sister? Why is she here?"
"It doesn't matter!" He shook his head, let go of her shoulders and she reached up to wipe at her eyes. He took a step back, realizing that she really didn't trust him. Not at all. "Do you think I'd have an affair with a co-worker?" He asked bitterly.
"You had one with me." She answered.
He took another deep breath. "That's different! That's totally different! I've been in love with you since the moment I met you! But it doesn't matter now..." He went on. "You don't trust me and you never will..."
"It's not that..." She began, as she felt her own temper slow down a bit. She believed him, she didn't know why, but she did...and then she began to feel embarrassed for the way she acted. "I just saw you with another woman and I thought that..."
"NO!" He shouted, making her jump. He ignored her as she started to cry again, really cry hard. She covered her face with her hands but he grabbed them, made her look at his face so she could see what she'd done to him. "It's true! You don't trust me and you think that for one moment I"d be out here dating when you ripped my heart out and stomped all over it? You think I want to go near another woman?" He threw his hands up in the air, laughed bitterly. "Oh no...I'm not going to be that stupid again."
"I'm sorry!" She cried harshly. "I'm sorry, you make me crazy! And I'm not myself..."
"I don't care!" He cried meanly. "You're sorry now but you're still going to have an abortion aren't you? You're still going to kill my child..."
"Warrick, about that..." She began, but he was too wound up, too upset to listen.
"No! I don't want to hear it!" His voice lowered, and he bared his teeth to her, his eyes deadly calm. "But I can guarantee you this----after you do this don't you ever speak to me again—do not talk to me—do not look at me because if you do I may just want to kill you with my bare hands." He turned around and started to walk away, but stopped and he turned to face her again. "Just so we're clear...this is over. We're over."
His own anger took her breath away as she watched him turn and stride back towards the hotel. And he hadn't even given her the chance to tell him that she'd come to a decision about the abortion. Loneliness claimed her as she walked to her car and drove home.