The next night she was back as demanded. Everybody was nice and took the time to say hi whenever she passed by, but nobody made a very big deal out of her experience, and both Sara and Grissom were quietly grateful for that.
She spent most of her time in the lab. The cut on her foot made it difficult to walk normally and much as she hated admitting it, things wouldn't really be back to normal for a while.
She took her time walking between rooms and made sure not to carry too much.
She would jump if someone spoke suddenly, but quickly learned to mellow the surprise to a mere tensing of her body.
Greg kept trying to speed up any evidence she was having processed while she was gone. It was his way of helping out and taking care of her. Sara caught on and told him so. She didn't seem angry; just told him to stop so that she wouldn't be spoiled once the special treatment stopped. They laughed, and like the other jovial moments that night, if her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, no one noticed.
Except, of course, that Grissom noticed it all. But she didn't say anything so neither did he.
Near the end of their shift she looked exhausted. It took more energy to stand than earlier. But all she did was grab a cold bottle of water from the break room fridge. When she and Catherine concurred that there was nothing about their new case that couldn't wait until tomorrow, Sara couldn't help the glint of relief in her eyes. Catherine was peering at a tox report and missed it. Grissom, at the other end of the room talking to Nick, saw it and realized that it was the biggest slip he was going to see.
She was in the parking lot, blinking rapidly from the bright morning sun and fumbling for her sunglasses, muttering to herself because the parking lot had been packed the night before and she'd ended up parking at the far end. The temporary handicap sticker the hospital had offered for her car suddenly seemed a lot more tempting.
"Sara." Even shouting my name the man manages to sound detached, she thought wryly.
She stopped to let him catch up and he handed her a slim file. "From Catherine. She needed your signature earlier and forgot to ask."
He held out a pen and she took it from him with a smile. "And here I thought you couldn't wait to get rid of me."
"If you feel that we're coddling you—"
"I was joking," she reassured him. Leaning on the nearest car she flipped through the paperwork, signed the appropriate spots, and returned the file. She stared across the parking lot and sighed dramatically. "Has the parking lot always been this big?"
Staring at the small dot that was her car gave Grissom the chance to examine her unnoticed. The circles were deepening under her eyes and he surprised himself with the desire to touch her face. They're just dreams for a reason, he reminded himself.
"Any chance that a day of Greg at your heels changed your mind about that vacation?"
She glanced at him. A stronger smile this time. He wished she would slip off her sunglasses so he could read her eyes.
"Nah. Can't risk missing out on a great case. You should know, you're the same way."
Another chance at personal chitchat. Another chance he ignored. "You sure you're okay?"
Her eyebrows bunched. Again, those damned sunglasses were in the way. "Yeah, Gris. I'm fine." And she was, he realized. The false front was gone. She had been hurt on-site and it would take time to be a hundred percent and that sucked. But facts were facts and she was dealing. She's better at being me than I am, he grumbled to himself.
"You going home soon?"
The look of irritation he made was comical. "Paperwork."
"Ouch. I'll leave it at that." Sara pulled her car keys from her jacket pocket and resumed walking. She raised a hand to say goodbye and left him standing on the sidewalk, once again debating the need to stay when the rest of his team was eagerly leaving after an easy night. But, as always, he stayed to avoid the real question: What would he do instead?
- - - - - - - -
Morning light was filtering in through the windows. He rolled over to ignore it and reached out. Soft sheets and a plump pillow made contact, but not her. He frowned, reached a little further. Still no, but there was a warm spot where she had slept.
He opened his eyes grudgingly and saw movement from the corner of his eye. She was at the dresser putting on her watch.
"Sara." His eyes wouldn't stay open. Why was he so exhausted?
She was slipping on her jacket, checking her makeup in the mirror.
He forced his eyes to stay open. "Sara?"
She was walking to the door. She glanced over briefly, slowing long enough to smile sweetly, and then she was gone. The door clicked shut and his brow furrowed in confusion even as his eyes slid shut.