Specifics would be the undoing of Gil Grissom.

The politics of his job never ended. Catherine had no problem finding loopholes in his orders. Paperwork was nothing but details and orders typed up and dropped on his desk. Specifics were the enemy.

Like the rest of his CSIs, Sara was tenacious. He had learned early on that it was his job as their supervisor to ensure that determination and love of the job didn't kill them all.

So, really, when he told Sara to give him the x-rays and go home, the implied 'get some rest' was merely a loophole to her. Again, specifics. By now Grissom should've been habitually ending every sentence with, "And I don't want to see you anywhere near the lab before the start of your shift."

Sleep was good. Breakfast was good. The commute was good. The barely-increased heap of files on his desk was very good. All in all, a good start to a great day, he thought happily as he ambled down the halls.

And then he glanced to his right, into the break room, and saw Sara sitting before a mess of lab printouts, more than two hours early for her shift.

"Sara?"

She finished reading a sentence before glancing up. "Oh, hey Grissom."

"Is all of that for your new case?"

"Grace Denton. Yeah."

"The evidence could've waited another two hours." Her eyes studiously avoided his and Grissom knew that she had been there even longer. "Sara," he warned.

"We might get swamped again," she said defensively. "If you need me somewhere else tonight, at least I'll still be on top of this."

He chose to leave the conversation at that. Considering how upset she had been at the hospital, Grissom thought that she seemed much more in control.

By the time the others arrived, however, Sara's foresight seemed unnecessary. There were only two new cases to assign, both minor. Nick and Catherine were sent on their way to the fresh crime scenes while the others returned to their old cases.

"Guess it's my lucky day," Sara had grinned, gathering up her papers as the others left.

"Care to share that luck?" Grissom asked, warily eyeing the three files Catherine had left for him.

"It's only three," she teased.

"Yes, well, I recall thinking something like that when I first got this job. And 24 hours later I was convinced that manila folders could breed quicker than rabbits."

Sara laughed. "Stay strong. You'll see the inside of a crime scene again, one of these days." She walked out, hoping to get an early start with Dr. Robbins.

She didn't seem too stressed about the Denton case, Grissom decided. He wanted to believe that she was finally handling her emotions in a healthier manner.

- - - - - - - - -

He was still behind on paperwork. At the moment he was going from the morgue to Greg and was reading on the way. Grissom knew that in five minutes he wouldn't remember any of what he'd read, but considering that it was yet another administrative memo, he also knew that he didn't care.

"Got a minute?"

Grissom turned his attention to Sara but kept walking. "Does it involve signing my name?"

"Nope, just your eyes."

"Then I'm all yours." He shoved the memo into a file with relish. "What do you need?"

"Robbins can't see me for another half hour. I was thinking that between the two of us, we could have all the medical files examined before then."

"What are you hoping to find?"

"A pattern. Some abusers favor a certain area of the body." Sara's voice was grim. "If we can find a similarity between old incidents of abuse and her newest marks, it could help get me and Brass get a warrant for the rest of the house."

"You don't have anything more definitive?"

"Not yet. Tox screen was negative, nothing else really stood out either."

They stepped inside an empty lab where Sara had already spread out the x-rays and records in chronological order.

"I'll take everything for the past two years," Grissom offered. Sara nodded and sat down at her side of the table, absorbed with the papers spread before her.

It didn't take long for the room's atmosphere to grow heavy. With a case like this, examining the medical history was always a bleak task. They made occasional comments but both were mostly busy with writing observations. When she wasn't writing, Sara's fingers were busy tapping nervously. Grissom eyed her a few times but she seemed oblivious.

When they were done, Grissom slid his share of the records to the other side of the table and moved his seat next to Sara's. He could feel her warmth next to him, and he vaguely wondered when they had last worked in such close proximity.

"No real pattern," he concluded. "No question this woman was abused though."

"So many hospital visits," Sara noted sadly. "You think somebody would have gotten through to her eventually."

"That's a good point. Has her doctor been interviewed yet? He might have a reasonable explanation."

"Hospitals aren't the same as private practices. It's possible she never saw the same doctor twice in a row."

Grissom frowned and reached into his share of the records. "Actually, for the past eight months the same physician signed off on her visits."

Sara took the sheet he handed her and studied it closely. He took the opportunity to study her, his eyes slowly moving up and down her face. She looked particularly—

"We have a new suspect," Sara announced, turning to him. She held up the sheet, clearly disturbed. "Dr. Aster. He's been her only doctor for eight months?"

Grissom glanced down at his notes to confirm the name. "Yes. Why?"

"When I spoke to the daughters, they said that their mother was dating someone on the side. Someone named Mr. Aster."

She thanked Grissom for his help as she gathered the papers, clearly eager to inform Brass of her findings. She rushed out the door without another word, leaving Grissom to ponder how much new paperwork was probably waiting for him at his desk.

Once the wondering had him suppressing a shudder, Grissom decided that his team no doubt needed him more than any file and went off in search of someone –anyone– to keep him from his desk.

As luck would have it, Catherine, Warrick and Greg all required his attention. Catherine's lawnmower experiment required a second pair of hands, Warrick was worried about going outside his legal boundaries with a warrant, and Greg had the results of every sample Grissom had sent in. The rest of his day was spent busy with actual work and blissfully ignoring his supervisory duties.

He was discussing the last of the results with Greg when he spotted Brass in the hallway. "Compare that with hairs from the clip," he said, walking to the door, "and find me."

Brass spotted him and held up a folded piece of paper. "Warrick's new warrant, signed, sealed and delivered."

"Quick service."

"I should start demanding tips."

"I'm sure the ethics committee would love that," Grissom smirked, looking over the warrant. He peered over when Brass didn't leave. "I don't have my wallet on me, Brass."

"Actually, I wanted to talk about the Denton case."

"Sara told me you had a new suspect. A doctor."

"Yeah, he's shaping up to be a first-rate jerk. We actually talked to him earlier."

"Anything viable?"

"Probably. I'm still checking out his story. Sara said you checked out the medical records earlier. Anything stick out?"

"Aside from the amount of abuse she went through, just Aster."

"Well, it's not enough for a warrant but we're getting there. I'm gonna go check out Aster's alibis for the weekend. Try to get out of a here at decent time, Gris. The paperwork ain't worth it."

"I've been saying that since I got this job," Grissom retorted. The two exchanged goodnights and went in separate directions.

Grissom walked to the locker room, laughter catching his attention. The entire team was inside, preparing to go home. Grissom felt envious of the relaxed environment as he stepped in.

"You're just in time," Warrick chuckled. "Nick is doing the best impression of Eckley."

Grissom handed him the warrant. "This should keep the smile on your face for awhile."

"Damn, Brass is quick."

"He's expecting gratuity," Grissom said dryly, moving to leave.

"Hey," Nick stopped him, "you done too? Some of us are gonna grab breakfast."

Grissom's eyes moved to Sara before he could think, but snapped back to Nick before she noticed. "No rest for the weary, Nick."

Nick shrugged. "Alright, but next time, Grissom."

"After all," Catherine chimed in, "what are family breakfasts without Papa Bear?" Grissom made his exit then, realizing that despite all its paperwork-related faults his office was at least quiet.

He heard a locker door slam and a moment later Sara jogged up to him, slipping on her jacket. "Is Brass still here?"

"He went to check on Dr. Aster's alibi."

"Oh. Well, I can call him on the radio. We can still meet up there."

Grissom stopped to give Sara a stern look. "Your shift's over. Go home. Or have breakfast with the others."

She observed him with uncertain eyes. Of all the people to be lecturing her work habits...

"On second thought, come to my office." He led the way, not attempting any more conversation. She trailed behind like a scolded child.

Once they were in the office and the door was shut, Grissom seemed less sure of himself. Sara took advantage of his pause to blurt, "I don't see why I can't go with Brass."

"Shift is over, Sara."

"It's my case. We work over all the time."

"With evidence," Grissom corrected firmly. "Right now it's nothing but foot work, which means you leave it to Brass."

"Interviews lead to other people or new scenes. It's not like this is news to you—"

"I said no."

Sara pursed her lips in frustration. "It's not like I do this with every case, Grissom. This guy was someone she trusted, at—" Her voice caught, and she glanced away. "—at a time when she had no reason to trust anyone. And he used that against her." She looked at him defiantly. "It's our job to find the evidence that will put him away. And if going with Brass speeds things up, then..." She shrugged. Her eyes were searching for something in his. Grissom had no idea what kept him from looking away.

They stood for a full minute, silent, each trying to convey the facts to the other. Suppressing a tired sigh, Grissom sat at his desk and watched Sara look at the floor.

"I'm replacing you with Catherine."

Sara's head shot up. "What?"

"You'll get a new case at the beginning of shift. In the meantime, I don't wanna see you in this building."

"I haven't done anything wrong!"

"No, not yet. And frankly, it's not even about the case. It's about you wearing yourself out. Enough is enough. I've worked with you long enough to know that you won't stop yourself." He thought about yesterday at the hospital. How heartbroken she had been.

A dozen arguments were forming in her mind. He could practically see the wheels turning. "My foot is healing. I sleep as much I ever—"

"Stop." She did, but her eyes were shining with anger. It took a moment for Grissom to recognize something else: betrayal. "I agree. Physically, you seem fine."

"Then what?" she demanded.

He took a breath to keep his words calm. Professional. "You cannot get emotionally involved with a case, Sara. This has to stop. Everything has its boundaries; our job is no exception." She was hiding it well but he could see how his words were hurting her. Grissom just had to keep reminding himself that this was best for her. "You're not learning control on your own. It's my responsibility to try a new tactic."

He pulled a file from the pile and gave the contents his full attention. Not looking at her, making it sound like a farewell, he reiterated, "You're off the case."