It was against Catherine's nature to not vocalize intense feelings. She couldn't believe what was happening. She couldn't believe Sara's nerve, dating someone other than Grissom. She couldn't believe Grissom's nerve for pushing Sara that far!

She stomped into the break room only to see Sara and Nick leaning close to each other in conversation.

"Oh, for Christ's SAKE, guys!" she yelled, throwing down the pad of paper she'd been holding. They jumped apart and guiltily looked at her. "I don't care what you two do," Catherine continued in a quieter voice, "but don't do it in the break room in front of everyone else. I want to keep my breakfast down, okay?"

"Um, sorry Cath," Nick said with a smile in his voice.

"I'm dead serious, guys," Catherine said. "I don't want to see it. Grissom doesn't want to see it. Warrick doesn't want to see it. Greg might, but I suggest you charge him by the minute."

Sara shot Nick a quelling look. "Yeah, uh, sorry. We didn't know you were coming in here. Nick said you and Grissom were hanging out in his office. With the lights out." This last was said in a harsh voice.

Catherine hid a smile. The feeling wasn't dead, but it sure as hell was buried deep now. Sara snuggling with Nick was just a frightening sight. She shuddered delicately. "Well, Grissom's got a migraine tonight, so go easy on him, ok? No PDAs."

Sara shot her a dirty look. "Like we would, Catherine? Can we just get started?"

"Waiting for Warrick and Grissom. Remember? You two aren't the whole of the team?"

Despite Nick's restraining hand, Sara shot up out of her chair angrily. "Listen, Catherine. This is my life. I don't give a good damn whether you like it or not, but if you don't stop whining and complaining about me IN FRONT OF ME, I'm going to scream! And then I'm going to write up an official complaint about your behavior!"

"Oooh," Catherine responded, "I'm real scared, Sara."

"Would you two STOP IT?" Grissom boomed as he entered the room. "The entire lab can hear you arguing, and I don't think they appreciate it. I certainly don't appreciate it."

He walked toward them. "Sara, sit," he ordered. Looking disgruntled, Sara did so. Nick quickly took a firm hold on her arm so she couldn't escape again. "Catherine, you too. Other end of the table." As she walked past him, he whispered angrily, "What did I tell you about this?" Catherine shrugged unconcernedly. Just as they were sitting down, Warrick strolled in, having missed the whole drama.

Grissom looked around the table. "Do I need to remind you all that we are professionals?" The group shook their heads. "Good. Then let's try doing work tonight instead of squabbling." He passed around assignment slips. "Catherine, Nick – you take the burglary. Warrick, you're going solo on a store robbery." He paused, then passed Sara the last slip. "Sara, you're with me."

Sara frowned, but said nothing. "Well?" Grissom continued. "Work to do, guys. Move!"

Sara cast Catherine one last fuming look as the blonde left the room, then stood up. "Ok, so what are we working tonight?"

"You and I are staying here tonight. There's a mountain of paperwork."

"You're kidding. I have to stay here and do paperwork all night while Catherine gets to go out in the field? What is this, a punishment for fighting with your girlfriend or something?"

Grissom sighed. "I don't know what she said to you, Sara, but I apologize for it. I spoke to her and asked her to respect your choice. Apparently she disobeyed my request."

"It's not your job to tell Catherine how to treat me, Grissom. If she wants to be a bitch – sorry, but that's what she was – then you can't stop her."

Grissom sighed again, feeling very old. "Please, Sara, don't argue. Can we just get this paperwork done? It's not a punishment. I just think you need some time."

"Time to do what, Grissom? Cool off so I don't hit her? Done. Let my hand heal? Done." A little white lie like that couldn't hurt. "I'm fine. I don't need you to give me any 'time'."

Grissom didn't respond, just shoved a pile of clearance forms toward her. Still grumbling, Sara got to work.

"Sara?" Grissom asked an hour later. "Are you happy?"

"With what?"

Grissom shrugged. "With Nick . . . with yourself . . . with your relationships with the team members?"

Sara set down her pen and rubbed her eyes. "I don't know what you mean by 'happy'. I'm not planning on leaving CSI, if that's what you're asking. Obviously Catherine has some problems with me, but other than that . . . I get along fine with Warrick. With Nick, obviously." She sighed. "Does that answer your question?"

"No. I didn't ask whom you got along with. I asked if you were happy."

"I don't know. I'm content, I guess. Are you happy?" she shot back at him.

"No, Sara, I'm not happy." Sara raised an eyebrow and he answered her unspoken question. "I worry about my people. I worry about you, especially, because I know how you put your whole self into things."

Sara smiled. "I'm fine, Grissom. I'm happy, ok?"

"And stubborn," Grissom added. "And secretive. And reclusive."

"Gee, Grissom. Don't hold back from telling me what you really feel," Sara said with a wounded look.

"These aren't insults. In fact, what you are is very much what I was ten or fifteen years ago."

"Tall, female, and brunette?"

"Very funny. I think most of the team would agree that I'm still stubborn, secretive, and reclusive, to some degree, but I've learned to balance it over the years."

Sara snorted.

"Laugh if you will, Sara, but I'm the one with a more stable life. I don't boyfriend-hop, for one thing."

Sara threw her pen at him. "I knew you had an ulterior motive. Listen, Grissom, if you don't like me dating Nick, that's too bad. You can't stop it."

"I'm not trying to, Sara. I'm just trying to . . . give you examples or your possible instabilities." He wasn't doing any such thing, of course. He was complaining.

Sara felt her anger bubbling to the surface. "You know, I'm sick of this! You tell me to get a life and I get one, then you punish me for it. You tell me you're not interested din me, but when I find someone who is, you complain about it. You, Gil Grissom, are the most perverse person I know! I don't know why I put up with it."

She stood up and shoved the pile of paper at him. "You deal with this. You only wanted me here so you could bitch at me, and I'm not listening anymore, so my job is over here."

Grissom stood up and faced her, noting her rigid stance and pale face. "Are you all right, Sara? Physically, I mean? You don't look good."

"I'm fine."

"That what you told me last time, and you needed ten stitches in your hand that time."

"I said I'm fine, Grissom. We already went over this. You're not responsible for my health, you're not responsible for me happiness, and you're not responsible for my love life."

Grissom walked around the table toward her. "You're not fine. Did you get that broken stitch fixed?" Sara said nothing, but when he reached out to touch her arm, she jumped away.

"Don't touch me."

"You wanted me to touch you a week ago, Sara."

"That's not now. I don't want anyone who doesn't care about me touching me."

Grissom crossed his arms and regarded her with concern. "Do you really believe, Sara, that I don't care about you?"

"You said it, not me," she said bitterly, then bit her lip.

Grissom glared at her. "You're in pain. You didn't get the stitch fixed. Dammit Sara, you could have a serious infection now!"

He grabbed her arm before she could pull it back, and Sara began to struggle. "Let me GO!" she screamed, bringing Bobby and Greg running.

"Grissom? What's going on?" Grissom heard Greg's confused voice, but was too busy trying to control Sara's flailing to turn his head.

"Greg," he replied calmly, "Are you strong enough to hold her?"

"Uh . . ."

"Between me and him," Bobby cut in, "we can control her. What's wrong?"

"I think she's got an infection in her hand wound. She broke the stitches a week ago and hasn't had them fixed."

"I am FINE!" Sara yelled. "My hand is fine! Leave me the hell alone!"

"No, Sara. Ready guys?" The two younger men nodded and Grissom passed Sara neatly into their arms. When they had her in a secure grip, Grissom took her hand, trying to tune out the insults she was hurling at him, and began to unwrap it.

He could see red-streaked flesh through the last few layers of gauze and his gaze shot up to Sara's face. She had stopped struggling, for the most part, and was watching him with an unreadable look on her face. Grissom finished unwrapping her hand and sucked in his breath. The wound was open, white, and slightly oozing.

"Your hand is infected, Sara," he said calmly – almost too calmly. "This is how Ashley James died, you know. Untreated open wounds. Are you insane?" His voice rose. "You could DIE, Sara!"

Her face was now turned away. She was even paler than she had been five minutes ago, and he could see the pinched look on her face.

"I'll take her back," Grissom told Bobby and Greg. "Greg, please go pull up one of the Tahoes. I'm taking her to the hospital."

Hearing this, Sara began to struggle again. "Let me go, Grissom! I'm not going to the hospital, I'm fine!"

"You're not fine, Sara," he said in his nastiest voice. "You have a severe infection that you brought upon yourself. Why in the hell didn't you get this looked at?"

Sara turned her face away from him. Her face was damp, though with tears or sweat he didn't know. "I'm fine." Her voice was much weaker, though. Whatever energy the infection had left her had been expended in struggling with Grissom.

"You are the most stubborn person I know, Sara Sidle," he said, wiping her face gently with a paper towel. Sara didn't respond, only twitched a shoulder. "You're going to be fine, Sara," he told her quietly. "I certainly won't allow you to lose your hand or anything." She moaned when she heard that, and Grissom smiled. "That's my girl. We'll . . ."

At that moment, he heard the sound of a car horn. Greg was out front with the Tahoe. "I'm going to carry you, Sara."

"I'm fine," she repeated. "I can walk."

"You're too weak. I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself." Before she could respond, he gently lifted her. Stroking her hair with the hand he had around her shoulders, Grissom murmured again, "You'll be fine. I'll stay with you."