Disclaimer: Sara, Grissom, and Nick aren't mine. I still live. The lyrics belong to T.a.T.u. and Sarah McLachlan respectively.

CHAPTER THREE - SARA

Sara Sidle wandered down the corridors, looking into the vacant offices. Apparently, she was the last one left. She stopped in the break room again, hoping that Grissom was still there. It was as empty as the offices around her. She sighed, heading out toward her little Honda Accord. It was an old car, but it still ran and that was the important part.

I just wish... no, nevermind.

She opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight. She blinked once, twice, three times, letting her eyes adjust to the brightness. Someone was walking toward their own vehicle. Someone who looked a great deal like...

Grissom.

She continued on, trying to act causal. She knew he could hear her. The surgery had been good for him. He turned to look at her and she tried to smile. "Hey Gris. What are you doing with your day off?" And she knew that it was the wrong question to ask. She had done it once before, and it had only ended up with her going home a little more heartbroken than she had been the day before.

"I don't know. I'll probably sleep for a while, then go to the bookstore. They have a new entomology text out that I wanted to look in to."

She sighed. That wasn't how life was supposed to be.

"I'll see you later, I guess." She got into her own car, glancing at him for just a moment before she started it up and pulled away. A light, airy classical piece floated in from the speakers, and she jammed the off button with her finger, wincing in pain a bit. That would hurt later.

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And you leave on your own

And you go home, and you cry

And you want to die

-T.a.T.u -'How Soon is Now?' -

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The time passed slowly. There was an accident on her street that blocked her parking spot. She pulled ahead, parking in the little alleyway beside the building. She would have to move it later. Circling the building, she let herself in and closed the door to the rest of the world. The blinds were shut; the curtains drawn. Occasionally, a flash of blue or red flickered through the living room from outside. She hoped the ambulance would be gone soon.

Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a Smirnoff from the fridge and took the cap off. Setting it on the counter, she looked at the clear liquid, contemplating whether this was really what she wanted. She took a tentative sip, then another. It wasn't what she wanted really, but it would have to do for now.

She walked back into the living room and sat on the couch. A photo album sat on the coffee table, but it was covered in dust. There was nothing in it for her but broken hearts and long-forgotten promises. It was complicated.

Sara turned the television on, keeping the volume down low. It was on the Discovery Channel, but she couldn't remember why. She snorted and took another long drink from the bottle when she saw the bugs crawling across the screen in front of her and wondered what Grissom was doing just then.

Probably watching this.

She couldn't know for sure. She'd never actually been to his place.

Maybe he doesn't even have a TV.

She set the bottle on the coffee table and was surprised to see that it was half-empty already. She didn't know if she had more, but it didn't mater. Drinking never chased her problems away anyway.

The red and blue disappeared in a blare of sirens. She could go move her car, but not yet.

Sara looked at the phone and sighed. She knew what she wanted, but wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea to try. Hadn't she already been turned down once that day? Grabbing the phone, she cursed herself for being so weak as she dialed in the number she had memorized by heart.

It rang once, twice, then three times and she laughed again at the irony of all of this. Everything happens in threes. Blink three times, ring three times, get rejected three times. She was used to it by now.

The answering machine picked up, and she thought about hanging up for a second. Then, she heard a voice and it registered, just vaguely, that it was her own. "Hey Gris, it's Sara. I know it must be weird, me calling you at home and all but... I umm... well, I just wanted to see if you had changed your plans and maybe wanted to get breakfast or something. I guess I must have missed you... so... I'll see you tomorrow night."

And she cursed herself again for being weak and slammed the phone back down on the receiver. Maybe it's better this way.

They had too much history for things to be easy, and she understood that, despite how she might feel now. That time at the seminar had been well-spent, but maybe it was wrong of her to think that there could be more.

Maybe it's better this way.

There was a knock on her door. She looked at the bottle on the coffee table regretfully, then moved toward the door. She peered through the peephole cautiously and her breath caught when she noticed who was out there. It would be polite of her to answer and see what it was he wanted. It was probably a breakfast invitation, but she wasn't interested in empty company.

She walked away, leaving him standing there alone. Her car wasn't out front. He'd never know the real reason why she didn't answer.

Maybe it's better this way.

She would deal with Nick, but not today.

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It's better this way, I said

Having seen this place before

Where everything we say and do

Hurts us all the more

-Sarah McLachlan -'Full of Grace' -