She went to push the door open, when it swung out towards her, almost taking her off her feet.
"Oh!" Grissom quickly reached out to steady her. "I'm sorry."
"Its fine, thanks." She mumbled, stepping out of his grip and attempting to move around him towards the room he was vacating.
"Hey Cath," he stopped her, sliding into her path. "Are you alright?"
"Of course." She shrugged, an undeniably defensive edge to her voice despite her attempts to sound blasé. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He raised a suspicious eyebrow at her.
"I don't know," he conceded warily. "You just don't seem yourself lately."
"I'm fine." She stated, a little too harshly for even her own liking. When he remained where he was, she took a step closer and pointed at the door behind him. "Are you going to let me in, or do I need a secret password?"
He smiled tightly, glad to see that her sharp wit was still okay, even if he wasn't convinced that the rest of her was.
"Alright." He agreed with a reluctant sigh, moving out of her way. She nodded in approval of this, brushing past him into the room.
Upon her entrance, Doc glanced up from his paperwork and did a small double-take.
"Catherine." The coroner greeted cheerfully. "Always pleased to have a visit, but I don't believe I have any work outstanding for you?"
"You don't." She cleared her throat, glancing over her shoulder to check that Grissom hadn't followed her in. "And this isn't a social call either."
"Oh?" He queried, his attention peaked.
Wringing her hands nervously in front of her, she shuffled over to his desk.
"I was hoping for some advice, if you have a bit of time to spare?"
"For you, Catherine, I can make time." He agreed warmly, sensing the anxiety washing off her in waves. Pulling over another stool, he gestured for her to sit and waited for her to make herself comfortable, fixing her with his undivided attention. "So, how can I be of assistance?"
She took a deep breath, started to say something, then stopped. He watched patiently while she repeated this twice more, his quiet concern growing with each passing second.
"A friend of mine has recently been diagnosed with blood cancer." She managed to say at last, stumbling over the last couple of words. "Hodgkin Lymphoma."
"I see." Doc hummed sympathetically, understanding the reason for her edginess. The c-word had a tendency to do that to even the strongest of personalities.
"She's undergoing treatment – immunotherapy." She continued, tucking a loose stand of hair behind her ear with a shaky hand.
"Not Chemo?" He queried curiously.
"No. She was offered it, but declined." Cath explained. "So far she's had two sets of treatment. She has another five to go, over the course of the next ten weeks; then they're going to re-evaluate things and go from there."
"Okay." He nodded, pleased that this 'friend' seemed to be under the care of a proactive medical team. "So, what can I do for you?"
Catherine licked her lips slowly, sitting forward and resting her hands on her knees.
"Well, she doesn't have a lot of family. Any family really." She glanced away, visibly saddened by this fact. "So, I'm going to be the main person helping her to deal with this."
"And you want a heads up about what to expect?" He guessed, earning him a grateful nod.
"I want to know everything you can tell me." She answered. "I was at the hospital with her today during her treatment when she had a bit of an episode. She's alright now, but I wasn't much use. I just want to be better prepared next time."
Albert rocked to his feet and began to click his way across the tiled floor, to a shelf laden with well-used medical books. Selecting a large leather-bound one, he pulled it down and made his way back to the desk.
Catherine watched him flick through the pages, her eager eyes scanning each one as he passed it. When he paused for a moment, she glanced up, surprised to find him staring at her with an affectionate gaze.
"I'm glad that Sara came to you about this." He declared.
She started, almost falling off her stool in surprise.
"She told you?"
Doc smiled again, shaking his head.
"I'm a doctor, Catherine. I can tell when someone's sick." He pointed out. "I'd hoped it wasn't something like this; but I can't honestly say I'm surprised. The diagnosis definitely fits with the symptoms she's been displaying recently."
Catherine had sunk her gaze into her lap, but she looked up now and sniffed.
"She doesn't want anyone else to know."
"Also not that surprising." He hummed knowingly, drawing a small laugh from her. "But unfortunately, people are going to find out. This isn't something she's going to be able to hide for very long."
"I know that." Cath swallowed hard around the lump that had appeared in her throat. "So does she, I think. She just wants to hold onto some kind of normality for as long as possible. Her work is all she has left; I don't feel like I can take that away from her. That's why I need to be there for her, to support her through this."
"That's very admirable, Catherine." Doc placed a hand over hers where it lay on the desk and patted it gently. "But this is going to be a long road. She's going to need more than just support."
"She's going to get it." Cath agreed coolly. "Whatever she needs, I'm going to be there to give it to her. Even if she doesn't want to accept it."
He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, picking up on the slight change in the tone of her voice.
"You know Sara." She rolled her eyes in response to his silent question. "She's adamant that she can do this by herself. That she doesn't need anybody's help."
"She can't." He replied bluntly. "But if she's so determined to go this alone, why did she tell you?"
"She didn't tell me anything!" Cath spluttered indignantly. "My sister's a nurse in the oncology unit. She called me down there on the day of Sara's first treatment on an errand and 'allowed' me to find her."
A bright laugh bubbled out of the usually stoic pathologist at this development in the story.
"And I bet she was thrilled to see you there." He offered sarcastically.
"Not really, no." Catherine flashed him a cunning smile. "But it wasn't exactly like she could run away from me either."
He had to agree with the sentiment, taking a moment to re-gather his thoughts and sober up again.
"I take it then that Grissom doesn't know yet?"
"No, she's refusing to tell anybody else at work until she absolutely has to."
"Cath..."
"I know." She held her hands up to stop the lecture that she knew was coming. "I have tried to explain it to her, but she's having none of it. Which is why I need to know as much as you can tell me about this; the treatment, the side-effects – all of it. If I'm all she's got right now, I don't want to screw it up."
He released a heavy sigh, unhappy with the state of the situation, but dragged the text book closer non-the-less and continued flicking through the pages.
"I hope you know what you're getting into." He mused. "You're opening yourself up to a world of stress."
"So what else is new?" She shrugged flippantly. "Sara Sidle has been a source of stress in my life since the day she waltzed into it."