Grissom was slightly shocked to see her leaning against the Tahoe.

When he couldn't find her in the lab, he decided it was best to deal with the case.

She was here – but he knew this was the last place she should be. They both knew she couldn't work the case.   

Her eyebrows knitted in the middle, looking at the ground, kicking up the dirt a little.

Grissom stood just watching her.

She'd been like this before.

She was like this the last rape case they had.

She took them all so personally. But this time – this time she seemed to have a reason.

He headed hurriedly toward her. She couldn't be on this case. He had to deal with work before everything else. He had to deal with work before he dealt with her.

They were both dedicated professionals. Nothing seemed to stand in the way of their jobs. He could justify his decision to ignore her, he could justify that she should feel the same way.

He had to. His life was his work. And the only constant was evidence. Evidence didn't lie. Evidence didn't proclaim it was "fine."

"Sara, what are you doing?" he said, slightly agitated. She knew the rules. She knew she couldn't be on this case. Yet she was here.

"We got a case, remember?" She prolonged each word, acting as though nothing had happened.

"Sara…" Grissom started, he was frustrated, and didn't quite know how to convey his feelings to her.

"You know I can't let you work this case." He gestured.

She hated his hand gestures. She hated his vagueness. She hated him not specifying what "this" was.

Sara stopped scuffing her feet, she looked directly at Grissom, her eyes were full of a passion she usually held for her cases.

She looked like she might hit him.

Or cry.

But she didn't. She calmly said "ok" and walked back into the building.

Grissom was confused. She was going from one emotional extreme to another. Fighting her corner, then giving up her cause.

They were going to have to talk. Later.

For now, he had a crime scene to deal with.