Catherine was regretting letting Greg stay at work. How could she be so silly? He should be resting, not working furiously as she could see he was doing. Perhaps she should talk to Grissom-Greg would listen to him.

She was just about to turn on her heels and go to find Grissom, when she stopped to take a closer look at Greg. He had not moved for a couple of minutes now, and she realised that his shoulders were shaking gently. Was he crying?

She was shocked-Greg crying was something she thought-and hoped-she'd never see. He was usually such a strong person, or at least he was very good at putting on a brave face, as she suspected he had been ever since the explosion.

Opening the door quietly she saw she was right, he was crying, silent tears that were slipping down his face. He made no effort to stop them. She reached out towards him, and, sensing her presence, Greg quickly spun round on his chair to put his back to her. He hurriedly wiped away the tears, then turned back again, a forced, half-hearted grin on his face.

'Hi Cat what can I do for you?'

'Greg,' Cat murmured sadly. 'Greg, you were.'

'No I wasn't.' He interjected abruptly.

'Greg,' she said sighing, 'I saw you.'

'No, I wasn't.' He said again, with a tone of finality to his voice as he stood up to face her. She decided to drop it; he clearly didn't want to talk about it. But she was wrong.

'Cath...' He looked straight into her eyes, and took a deep breath, as he prepared himself to ask her the hardest thing he'd probably ever had to ask.