AN: Hope everyone is doing well and had a happy, safe holiday season. Thanks as always to the reviewers – you guys keep me going. And, chimp1984, all I can say is I debated a long time with that very idea. Stay tuned, this journey isn't over ;)

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 36

"Hope is the only universal liar who never loses his reputation for veracity."

Robert Green Ingersoll

CATHERINE POV

Coming home from work, I pull into my mother's drive, exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

My discussion with Claire keeps ringing through my head, and I simply can't seem to shake it.

And know that, whatever she chooses, I will respect that as well.

So will I. But part of me wonders if I was stupid to give the love of my life this choice to make. This opportunity to be with someone other than myself.

But, in the end, my intentions are the same as Claire's.

I want Sara, more than anything in this world, to be happy.

Whether that's with me or someone else.

But, the mere idea of it not being with me makes me feel like my heart is slowly being ripped out of my chest, one jagged piece at a time.

Stepping onto the porch, I enter the house, placing my keys on the desk with a sigh.

Turning, I stop dead in my tracks.

"Sara."

Pushing herself away from the counter, Sara stands up to her full height.

My heart is thundering in my chest.

"How did you…"

"I let her in," my mother's voice greets me as she steps out from the kitchen. "Idiotic girl was just sitting out there in the cold for God knows how long waiting for you. Finally got sick of watching her boney body shivering on our steps and dragged her inside."

Sara looks like she's biting her tongue - tightly.

"Thank you, mother," I offer quietly.

The tension between Sara and I is obvious. So obvious, in fact, that even my mother picks up on it and clears her throat, excusing herself and disappearing further into the house.

"Sara," I breathe out, taking a hesitant step into the room when she doesn't say anything. "What are you doing here?"

"I…"

Sara lowers her head, rubbing her temples.

Her silence scares me.

So do her hands.

"You're shaking."

Looking up at my words, she tightly clenches her hands together, trying to keep the trembling appendages still.

"Sara, please," I offer after more moments of silence. "You're scaring me."

Sara doesn't get rattled easily. But, right now, she's beyond edgy.

"I…" she tries again. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay."

Sara remains by the counter.

"I wanted to tell you my choice, Catherine."

"Oh…" I somehow manage to get out before my mouth goes completely dry.

"Catherine," she shakes her head. "I told you before, and I'm telling you again now. My choice is you. It will always be you."

She swallows tightly, eyes shifting.

"I know I have problems saying it, for my own reasons, but I do love you, Catherine."

She matches her gaze with mine.

"I love you."

Closing my own eyes against the emotions running through me, I try to keep myself centered. To stay grounded and not completely lose myself in the long awaited sound of Sara's voice telling me that she loves me.

Opening my eyes, I look at her, slightly blurry through the moisture in my eyes.

"Can I…?"

My question trails off, but Sara knows what I'm asking.

Taking in a steadying breath, the brunette nods.

Not wasting another minute, I make my way to her, carefully but tightly enfolding her in my arms.

Returning the embrace, she holds me close.

"You need to trust me, Catherine," she whispers out into my hair. "If this is going to work between us, you need to trust my decision."

Her body stiffens slightly, and I sense there's more she isn't saying.

Pulling back a couple inches, I search her eyes.

"What is it?" I question in concern, seeing the hesitance in her gaze.

"I just…" she clears her throat. "I need to know you want this…that you wanted this to be my decision…"

"Sara," I cut her off, hand reaching out to hold her face in my grip. "How could you even question that?"

"I've had a lot of time to think between now and then," she says. "And I just kept hearing you say 'whatever this thing is between us' over and over again."

Sara takes a deep breath.

"I think of 'this thing' as a relationship, Catherine. One that I'm putting serious effort into pursuing and developing…"

She trails off, not able to finish.

"And you need to know I'm just as invested," I finish for her. "That I see this as a serious shot at a relationship as well."

Sara watches me, then nods quietly.

Leaning in, I place my lips to hers.

Kissing her softly, I pull back.

"Sara, I've never wanted a relationship with anyone as much as I want this with you."

I run my fingers across her cheek.

"And, not just a relationship. A life Sara."

I look her deeply in the eyes.

"I want a life with you."

Sara watches me, and I pray she can see the sincerity in my eyes, the honesty behind my words. I am so in love with this woman, and I hope she can see through to that.

"Okay."

Her whispered word reaches me through the still house.

Smiling, I can't resist kissing her again.

"Okay," I breathe out as well when our lips separate.

"Catherine?"

Turning, I send Claire a small smile, making room for her as she slides in across the table from me.

Ordering a coffee from the waitress, she turns her attention to me.

"Hey," I offer. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," she says simply.

"I take it you've spoken with Sara?"

Claire nods, taking a deep breath.

"And I meant what I said, Catherine," she tells me quietly but sincerely. "I don't know if that's why you asked me here, but I was serious before. I'm not going to stand in your way."

I nod, sitting in silence as we watch the waitress arrive with Claire's coffee.

Taking a sip of my own, I watch the woman across from me.

"How did you two meet?"

Claire looks up, surprised by my question.

"Oh," she shrugs. "We met at my gallery."

I send her an expectant look.

Smiling, Claire laughs.

"Sorry," she says. "I guess being around Sara all that time rubbed off on me. I can expand on my answer."

I smile in return, leaning back in the booth.

"I co-own a small, private art gallery on the west side of town. We take in mostly unknown artists. Give them a place to display their works. One day, I noticed this girl sitting in the back gallery, a pad of paper on her lap. When I got closer, I realized she was sketching the paintings. I was about to kick her out since copy sketching is prohibited at our gallery, but then I caught a glimpse of her work."

Claire smiles, lost in the memory.

"It was breathtaking, Catherine. And she wasn't simply copy sketching, she was reinventing the works she was seeing into new, creative interpretations."

Claire's eyes light with recollection, excitement.

"She would take the smallest aspects of those artworks, things you didn't even notice before, and focus in on them. Made you look at everything with a whole new perspective."

Sipping her coffee, Claire shrugs.

"So, I let her stay. Convinced my strict co-owner to let her stay. And in she would come, almost every day, at different and odd hours. About two months later, she came in one day, seemed really stressed about something. She stayed for nearly twice as long as she usually did, but then got a phone call and rushed out. She was in such a hurry that she left one of her notebooks behind."

Claire blushes slightly, clearing her throat.

"So," she shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "I went through it."

Claire's eyes meet mine.

"I was even more astounded by her talent when I saw it up close." She takes in a deep breath. "I ended up taking her sketches and mounting them up in our spare gallery, then opened it to the public."

My eyes go wide.

"You didn't…"

Claire cringes, nodding. "I did."

"She must have been ready to kill you…"

Claire laughs, "Oh, she was pissed alright. Livid, really. Ripped them all down, booked it out of there."

She shrugs, "I thought she was never going to come back."

"But she did," I offer.

"She did," Claire confirms. "But in a professional capacity."

"A case?"

"Yeah," she says. "A couple months later. A chain of thefts at galleries in the area. Ours got hit hard, which was ironic as most of our art is of little monetary value."

Claire shakes her head, "But, Sara was there with the cops and Dr. Grissom. She didn't speak a word the entire time. Did an absolutely admirable job of avoiding me. But, I got the cop's card from my coworker, tracked her down from there."

I laugh, "And what? Called her up and asked her out?"

"Pretty much," Claire laughs in response. "I told her I wanted to take her out for a drink to formally apologize for commandeering her works."

She smiles at the memory. "At first it was awkward. But," she shakes her head, "we ended up talking for about five hours before we realized the time. The connection was like something I've never experienced before."

Claire pulls herself from the memory, returning her eyes to mine. "The rest is history."

I nod, playing back the picture Claire has painted in my mind. It's a beautiful story, one that fits Sara perfectly.

It surprises me, though, to hear that Grissom was there when they met. Based on the amount of time he's been gone, that means Sara and Claire dated for years. Multiple years.

Their relationship wasn't some fling, or a casual affair.

It was a committed partnership.

One that obviously had depth and meaning – to both of them.

"Claire," I breathe out. "I don't know what your plans are now that Sara's made her decision. And I know I have no right to invade into your relationship with her now."

I shake my head.

"But Sara clearly means something to you, and I know you still mean something to her."

I take a deep breath. "I trust Sara, and so I have no reservations saying this to you." I fix my eyes on hers. "I think it would mean a lot to Sara to have you back in her life."

Claire looks away, studying her coffee.

"We were best friends," Claire gets out. "I know that we'll never be anything more, but I would love very much to have my friend back."

Steadying herself, she looks back up. "I appreciate you offering me that opportunity, Catherine," she says sincerely. "Not many people would be as decent of a person as you in that regards."

She swallows.

"Truth is, I'll leave it up to Sara at this point. I'm not going anywhere. It's up to her whether she chooses to let me back in or not."

I nod slowly, letting out a breath.

"I genuinely hope she does, Claire," I offer quietly. "I really do."

Leaving the café, I glance at my watch.

Getting into my car, I start my journey back home before I head out to the lab.

It's moving towards the evening hours, and I want to be at work before shift.

It's Friday, which means tomorrow is the anniversary of Sara's father's death.

I know the brunette will be at work early, trying to bury herself in a case to distract her from the memories the day undoubtedly will conjure up for her.

And, I want to be there for every moment in case she isn't as successful in avoidance as she will no doubt attempt to be.

Something tells me this particular anniversary isn't one that's going to simply pass by quietly.

AN: Thanks for reading.