No match. The computer flashed the two words across the screen. "Shit," I
cursed aloud.
"No luck?" Grissom asked from behind me. I spun around in my chair and shook my head.
"I guess I'll check the missing persons reports now," I replied with a sigh. I covered my mouth with one hand as I yawned, using the other hand to brush my wavy hair out of my face.
Grissom smiled a crooked smile and headed me a cup of coffee. "I just thought you might need some caffeine."
"Thanks, Gil," I said softly. It was my first week back from my leave of absence, and I was stuck doing computer work. Grissom wasn't allowing me to go back out in the field for another two weeks, and I was already bored to death.
"You know what? Why don't you head home," Grissom suggested gently. "You look like you could use some sleep." Ever since "the incident," everyone had started treating me like I was a little kid. They were always afraid that I would push myself too hard, stretch myself too far. It makes me sick to see the looks of pity displayed on their faces. They try to hide it, but I see right through them.
I spun back around to the computer, ignoring Grissom and trying my best to keep him from seeing the tears that were forming in my eyes.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt my body involuntarily tense under the soft pressure. "Just take it easy, Sara," he said quietly.
I bit down on my lip to stop the shaking and prayed that I wouldn't break down. That was something that I just could not allow myself to do in front of him.
Just then, his cell phone rang, saving me from having to face his unwanted sympathy.
"Grissom," he answered as he left the room and went into the hallway.
I turned my attention back to the task at hand. I typed in a few descriptive words and was met with a list of over one thousand missing persons in the area who fit the description. I sighed. This was going to be a long night.
I heard Grissom reenter the room. "Sara?" I spun around. There was something different about the way he sounded.
His blue-grey eyes were misted over with the sheen of unshed tears. "Grissom, what's wrong?" I asked, a wave of fear spreading over my body.
He took a deep breath, removed his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and then returned them to his face before answering. "That was Catherine's doctor," he answered.
"No luck?" Grissom asked from behind me. I spun around in my chair and shook my head.
"I guess I'll check the missing persons reports now," I replied with a sigh. I covered my mouth with one hand as I yawned, using the other hand to brush my wavy hair out of my face.
Grissom smiled a crooked smile and headed me a cup of coffee. "I just thought you might need some caffeine."
"Thanks, Gil," I said softly. It was my first week back from my leave of absence, and I was stuck doing computer work. Grissom wasn't allowing me to go back out in the field for another two weeks, and I was already bored to death.
"You know what? Why don't you head home," Grissom suggested gently. "You look like you could use some sleep." Ever since "the incident," everyone had started treating me like I was a little kid. They were always afraid that I would push myself too hard, stretch myself too far. It makes me sick to see the looks of pity displayed on their faces. They try to hide it, but I see right through them.
I spun back around to the computer, ignoring Grissom and trying my best to keep him from seeing the tears that were forming in my eyes.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt my body involuntarily tense under the soft pressure. "Just take it easy, Sara," he said quietly.
I bit down on my lip to stop the shaking and prayed that I wouldn't break down. That was something that I just could not allow myself to do in front of him.
Just then, his cell phone rang, saving me from having to face his unwanted sympathy.
"Grissom," he answered as he left the room and went into the hallway.
I turned my attention back to the task at hand. I typed in a few descriptive words and was met with a list of over one thousand missing persons in the area who fit the description. I sighed. This was going to be a long night.
I heard Grissom reenter the room. "Sara?" I spun around. There was something different about the way he sounded.
His blue-grey eyes were misted over with the sheen of unshed tears. "Grissom, what's wrong?" I asked, a wave of fear spreading over my body.
He took a deep breath, removed his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and then returned them to his face before answering. "That was Catherine's doctor," he answered.