The lunch-status meeting was finally winding down, much to Sara's relief. She was fighting to get through the shift, and extended sit down time did not help any. Not even coffee and food were working for her. She yawned again and pushed her sleeves back, resting her chin on her thumbs, hoping she looked more awake than she actually felt.
Catherine gasped, and then called her name in a shocked voice, immediately stopping all conversation around the table. Sara started, afraid Catherine had caught her nodding off, and then gave Catherine a puzzled look. "What?"
"Your arms." Sara glanced down, realizing just a moment before Catherine spoke again what was wrong. "Where did you get all those bruises?"
Sara's face heated as she realized everyone was staring at her, and she hastily pulled her sleeves to her wrists. "It's nothing."
"Nothing?" came Catherine's disbelieving reply.
"Sara?" Grissom's voice was quiet, but obviously concerned.
Sara sighed in exasperation. "Really, it's nothing. Can we go back to work now?" she said, in her best I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it voice, but Warrick was already grasping her wrist and turning her arm over to look. "Hey." She jerked her arm away and glared at him. She looked around the table and knew nobody was going to drop it without an explanation. "I was..." she shrugged her shoulders, "sparring this afternoon." She held up her forearms and twisted them around, assessing the damage for herself. "For a flyweight, he was pretty strong."
"Boxing?" Gil sounded stunned.
"Yes," she replied in a 'well, duh' tone. Luckily, she was saved from any further interrogation by her and Warrick's beepers going off. "Lab results," she said with false enthusiasm. She saw Gil get ready to push the issue further, so she cut him off. "Are we done?" His look told her it was only a reprieve as he sighed and waved them out.
Catherine stuck her head in the lab where Sara was working. "Breakfast. With us, this morning." Sara opened her mouth to protest, but Catherine waved her hand commandingly. "No excuses." She smiled to take the bite out of her words. "You can't tell me you aren't hungry."
"No way I can get out of it? Even by pleading exhaustion?" Sara twisted her expression into mock pitifulness and hung her head to the side. Catherine laughed, but shook her head. "No."
She was surprised that Grissom and even Brass joined them for breakfast. Sara felt the pressure of everyone's stare after the food was ordered, and squirmed uncomfortably. Being in the spotlight for something other than work with her work colleagues was disconcerting, since she had tried so hard to keep her personal life private since the DUI incident. She surveyed the table, and suddenly chuckled. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" she quipped, to the amusement of most everyone at the table, except Grissom, who didn't get the cultural reference.
Nick hooted with laughter and followed up with a "Fetch... the Comfy Chair" to rambucous laughter. He turned to Gil. "Monty Python's Flying Circus. You should check it out."
"The comfy chair may not be necessary." Catherine deadpanned. "We'll hold that in reserve," her tone mock-threatening.
Brass caught her eye from across the table, his face pensive as he regarded her. "So why didn't you tell me you were boxing? I mean, I knew you were doing something."
"I don't know." She felt that she was only talking to Jim as she reflected. "At first, it was just a way to escape work, a way to define my life outside of work. So I didn't tell anyone at work." She met his eyes and smiled, knowing her understood. "I needed an escape," she stated solemnly, as she remembered that trapped feeling that had squeezed her lungs and made it hard to breath. It had started that morning as soon as she had woken up, when all the images of the night before had flashed through her head. The red and blue lights in her rearview mirror, Gil standing at the door of the station, and the concern in his eyes as he asked if she was alright. The sense of paralysis had lasted into afternoon, as she examined her actions and choices that had led her to that point. She knew instinctively that the 12-step path wasn't her way, so she spent most of that week trying to figure out her way. She had been running and saw a billboard for an upcoming fight, and it immediately appealed to her even though she had never considered boxing before. The very idea of the brute physicality excited her imagination, and she had to admit striking out appealed to her as well. "The world of science is so much about the mind, so I decided to explore the body."
"So how long?" Catherine asked, surprised that Sara had been doing this without their knowledge. She knew relationships had been strained recently, but it saddened her to think that Sara hid so much of her life from them. Catherine had thought they were friends.
"Almost every day since that week of vacation I took. And running."
"Wow. No wonder you've been tired lately."
She nodded as the waitress delivered the food. "A little. I've just been training a little harder this month."
Joking and inevitable Rocky comments circulated around the table while they ate, and Sara took the ribbing in stride. Gil still looked demused by the whole idea, as if he was trying to picture it in his head and was failing miserably. He kept sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking, trying to reconcile the image of her peering into a microscope with her moving around a ring. She found she liked his discomfort, realizing that she had felt under his control in this weird not-relationship they had been having. Shaking up his image of her felt... freeing, strong, like she was finally herself. She met his eyes and smiled during one of his furtive glances, and she realized in that moment that she was over him. Her celebration of this realization was quiet and private; she laughed and joined in as everyone quoted their favorite Monty Python lines, feeling weightless and content.
Catherine gasped, and then called her name in a shocked voice, immediately stopping all conversation around the table. Sara started, afraid Catherine had caught her nodding off, and then gave Catherine a puzzled look. "What?"
"Your arms." Sara glanced down, realizing just a moment before Catherine spoke again what was wrong. "Where did you get all those bruises?"
Sara's face heated as she realized everyone was staring at her, and she hastily pulled her sleeves to her wrists. "It's nothing."
"Nothing?" came Catherine's disbelieving reply.
"Sara?" Grissom's voice was quiet, but obviously concerned.
Sara sighed in exasperation. "Really, it's nothing. Can we go back to work now?" she said, in her best I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it voice, but Warrick was already grasping her wrist and turning her arm over to look. "Hey." She jerked her arm away and glared at him. She looked around the table and knew nobody was going to drop it without an explanation. "I was..." she shrugged her shoulders, "sparring this afternoon." She held up her forearms and twisted them around, assessing the damage for herself. "For a flyweight, he was pretty strong."
"Boxing?" Gil sounded stunned.
"Yes," she replied in a 'well, duh' tone. Luckily, she was saved from any further interrogation by her and Warrick's beepers going off. "Lab results," she said with false enthusiasm. She saw Gil get ready to push the issue further, so she cut him off. "Are we done?" His look told her it was only a reprieve as he sighed and waved them out.
Catherine stuck her head in the lab where Sara was working. "Breakfast. With us, this morning." Sara opened her mouth to protest, but Catherine waved her hand commandingly. "No excuses." She smiled to take the bite out of her words. "You can't tell me you aren't hungry."
"No way I can get out of it? Even by pleading exhaustion?" Sara twisted her expression into mock pitifulness and hung her head to the side. Catherine laughed, but shook her head. "No."
She was surprised that Grissom and even Brass joined them for breakfast. Sara felt the pressure of everyone's stare after the food was ordered, and squirmed uncomfortably. Being in the spotlight for something other than work with her work colleagues was disconcerting, since she had tried so hard to keep her personal life private since the DUI incident. She surveyed the table, and suddenly chuckled. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" she quipped, to the amusement of most everyone at the table, except Grissom, who didn't get the cultural reference.
Nick hooted with laughter and followed up with a "Fetch... the Comfy Chair" to rambucous laughter. He turned to Gil. "Monty Python's Flying Circus. You should check it out."
"The comfy chair may not be necessary." Catherine deadpanned. "We'll hold that in reserve," her tone mock-threatening.
Brass caught her eye from across the table, his face pensive as he regarded her. "So why didn't you tell me you were boxing? I mean, I knew you were doing something."
"I don't know." She felt that she was only talking to Jim as she reflected. "At first, it was just a way to escape work, a way to define my life outside of work. So I didn't tell anyone at work." She met his eyes and smiled, knowing her understood. "I needed an escape," she stated solemnly, as she remembered that trapped feeling that had squeezed her lungs and made it hard to breath. It had started that morning as soon as she had woken up, when all the images of the night before had flashed through her head. The red and blue lights in her rearview mirror, Gil standing at the door of the station, and the concern in his eyes as he asked if she was alright. The sense of paralysis had lasted into afternoon, as she examined her actions and choices that had led her to that point. She knew instinctively that the 12-step path wasn't her way, so she spent most of that week trying to figure out her way. She had been running and saw a billboard for an upcoming fight, and it immediately appealed to her even though she had never considered boxing before. The very idea of the brute physicality excited her imagination, and she had to admit striking out appealed to her as well. "The world of science is so much about the mind, so I decided to explore the body."
"So how long?" Catherine asked, surprised that Sara had been doing this without their knowledge. She knew relationships had been strained recently, but it saddened her to think that Sara hid so much of her life from them. Catherine had thought they were friends.
"Almost every day since that week of vacation I took. And running."
"Wow. No wonder you've been tired lately."
She nodded as the waitress delivered the food. "A little. I've just been training a little harder this month."
Joking and inevitable Rocky comments circulated around the table while they ate, and Sara took the ribbing in stride. Gil still looked demused by the whole idea, as if he was trying to picture it in his head and was failing miserably. He kept sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking, trying to reconcile the image of her peering into a microscope with her moving around a ring. She found she liked his discomfort, realizing that she had felt under his control in this weird not-relationship they had been having. Shaking up his image of her felt... freeing, strong, like she was finally herself. She met his eyes and smiled during one of his furtive glances, and she realized in that moment that she was over him. Her celebration of this realization was quiet and private; she laughed and joined in as everyone quoted their favorite Monty Python lines, feeling weightless and content.