Sara walked into the locker room and let loose. She knew Grissom would be hiding out in his office, no doubt shredding her application for the promotion into tiny little pieces and sticking them in one of his evidence jars or something. Her vicious mind, ignoring the kiss entirely, reminded her that Grissom had pretty much only spoken two phrases to her, "Sara, don't," and "Sara, stop." Sara decided she could only view the interlude in his office one way, and even though it broke her heart, she would have to take it as gospel. Grissom obviously desired her, but it was equally obvious that it wasn't enough for him. Tears streamed down her face as she busied herself with organizing her locker. She leaned forward, and her badge, hanging from a cord around her neck, got stuck between some books. Sara leaned back, freeing it, and then lifted it to inspect if there had been any damage.
She could remember the last time she'd taken a good, hard look at her badge. Sara rubbed her thumb over her picture again, trying to recall the day it had been taken. The smile on her face was somewhat sad, and Sara grimly assumed that the sadness was from what it usually was--Grissom. A thought crossed her mind and she laughed, the tears still streaming down her face. Why hadn't she taken the signs for what they obviously were?! She'd been chasing Grissom, to ask him to dinner, when she'd been hurt in the lab explosion. What other explanation could there be, but that chasing Grissom only got her hurt? Suddenly Sara was glad for the kiss they'd shared, for all the heartache it was causing her now. It would be a cherished memory, she decided, and also a warning.
Grissom was once again regretting his sense of decorum. It was obvious that he had said the exact wrong thing again, and this time he wasn't sure it was fixable. If he'd been a different kind of man, he would be slamming his head against the wall right now. His conscience told him that this whole situation was exactly why he should not be involved with Sara. His normal tactic of running away wouldn't have gotten him into any trouble here, his inner voice nagged, and now look what a mess he had made. The trouble was, he hadn't been trying to run away just now. Grissom wondered if he'd ever be able to get close enough to Sara to explain what had just happened.
Sara was sick and tired of crying tonight. Not counting the many times she'd cried during that sappy movie, she'd already wept twice now! Considering that the last time she'd been in tears over anything but a film had been...Sara really didn't want to think about all that again. She had to hand it to him, though. Grissom seemed to have a gift for cruel rejection. 'And I have a gift for not getting the point,' she thought ruefully. 'Well, it's drilled into my head now!' Sara realized after all that had gone on tonight, not only was it merely 3 hours into shift, but Grissom was the only one who knew what assignment she was supposed to be working on. 'Screw that,' she thought, uncharacteristically. Sara let out an 'aha!' as she finally found what she'd been looking for in her locker. Taking the compact with her to the ladies room, she re-appeared five minutes later with little to no sign that she'd been upset at all.
Sara was not about to give Grissom the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt her.
Catherine was grouchy. It was her own fault, but she was handling it badly, and she was pretty sure she'd taken a lot of it out on Nick. From what she gathered from him, Sara had shown up and gotten a phone call from someone, presumably Grissom, asking her where she was. Catherine had been sure that Gil had intended for Sara to work the crime scene with them, and so she'd gone ahead and sent her the address. Now it had become obvious that was the wrong thing to have done, but with her strained relationship with Sara lately, she doubted she would be able to make it right with a simple, 'oops, I'm sorry.' In fact, Cat was pretty sure Sara would take her action as purposeful, and Grissom might, too. Nick had made a comment about how that was why inter-office relationships were probably a bad idea, and she had come down on him pretty hard. Not only had that comment sounded like another bid for brownie points in the promotion battle, but he had gotten it all wrong. Grissom and Sara's non-relationship was where the problem lay--if they were actually involved instead of dancing around each other like frightened children, they probably would work together much better. She was also almost certain she'd taken out her frustration about those two on Nick as well. Just in case, she was steering clear of Warrick. She didn't need to offend both of the guys tonight.
Warrick had been a little surprised when he'd come down from his inspection of the vic's bedroom to find an upset Nick and a testy Catherine. From what he could wean out of Nick--Catherine seemed to be completely avoiding him, an action totally unlike her, and one that worried Warrick--it seemed that Cath had called Sara into the crime scene and Grissom was upset at Sara for it. Warrick wondered what his mentor would do if he walked up to him and demanded that he take better care of Sara. No, that would never work, nor would telling him to 'go for it,' although that was what Warrick would have done had it been anyone else. He sure didn't envy Sara the task of unwrapping the onion that was Grissom. Warrick admired him, but the man seemed to thrive on mystery. Nick, on the other hand, was a lot easier to figure out. Warrick wished he could have a long talk with him, too, but he knew that it wouldn't help much. Nick wanted this promotion badly, and it had begun to effect the way he did his job. Not in a bad way, but in a way that seemed out of character for his friend. Suddenly Nick was all about the rules, all about what would get him noticed. Warrick wondered how long it would last, should Sara get the promotion instead.
Tonight was not going well for Nick Stokes. First he was informed he would be taken off of his and Sara's case, and he'd nearly complained that they were close to something--not to mention that he would be the one to break it, as Sara was off tonight--when Grissom told them they would be working a triple. Nick had been worrying himself lately. It seemed like the promotion was all he could think about, and he couldn't seem to help it when it effected his decisions at work. He hoped Grissom would make his decision quickly. He guessed that if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was worried that Sara would get it. Sara. Nick had deduced that the person he'd seen her speaking to that night on her cell had been Grissom, and from her reaction to his question afterward made him curious as to what his two fellow CSI's conversation had been like back at headquarters. Hopefully not like his and Sara's, which had nearly frightened him. An irate Sara was not one to be trifled with. 'Nor an irate Catherine,' he told himself ruefully. On any other night Nick would have simply found a way to go work upstairs with Warrick, and avoid the blonde CSI, but after three attempts at conversation, he'd decided that pretending to be invisible (and working his ass off) was about the only solution. Nick checked his watch surreptitiously, and held back a groan when he saw there were still 5 hours left to shift.
Sara walked into the DNA lab to check on her results, eyes searching for a familiar face. If anyone could help cheer her up tonight, it would be Greg.
"What do you call a rich person's dog?" Greg's voice boomed from just behind her, causing her to flinch.
"A yuppie puppy?" Sara was used to Greg's unorthodox way of introducing his evidence. The case had involved an affluent married couple; the husband had turned up dead, and the wife claimed she wasn't involved. Her alibi was that she was out walking her dog, a rare type of poodle, but Dr. Robbins had swabbed the victim's face and both Sara and Nick hoped that it would yield dog saliva. From the triumphant look on Greg's face, it appeared that it had.
"I'll call Brass to bring her in. Good work, Greg!" Sara reached out to rub his shoulder, her heart aching for human contact. Greg reached out to grab her waist, and before she knew it, they were mock ballroom dancing around the lab.
"Greg!" Sara protested; she wasn't quite in the mood for such a thing. Suddenly he stopped.
"Have you been cheating on me?" His voice was teasing, but his question was totally out of left field.
"What?!" Sara couldn't believe what she just heard.
"Your hand smells like Grissom's shampoo."
Greg's face showed he was serious. Sara simply stared at him, shocked that he had managed to ferret out her secret. After a long moment, she realized he actually expected her to answer him. Sara went for the lesser of the two evils.
"And how is it you think you know what Grissom's shampoo smells like?"
"I don't just want to be a CSI because it's fun to hang out with you guys, you know." Greg almost sounded hurt. "You haven't been yourself lately, Sara. All he ever does is hurt you!"