Sara was handling her reassignment better than Grissom could've hoped. The rest of the team knew by now but they wisely kept comments and knowing looks to themselves, though Grissom caught glances between her and him a few times.
She was in the lab ten minutes before start of shift and at the break room table with others five minutes later. She seemed smiley and relaxed, and Nick eagerly encouraged her attitude with a bout of sibling-reminiscent jokes. She was wearing a pale blue top, and while Grissom always enjoyed the occasional color she added to her wardrobe, it almost seemed like the entire cheery image was too easy.
When he handed her the sheet for a robbery just off the Strip, Sara didn't miss a beat. She listened to his brief description and only asked, "Was there an officer on scene?"
Grissom was grateful for the professional behavior. Sara normally listened to his advice but being pulled from a case was new. And frankly, with Sara he was never entirely sure what to expect.
The rest of the shift played out in a similar fashion. Nick asked her opinion on some carpet fibers. Grissom heard their laughter as he walked down the hall and noted that two hours seemed a little excessive for one sample. Greg managed to take his break at the same time as her and had a cheerier-than-usual grin for the rest of his shift.
As for Grissom, there wasn't much of a chance to ask how she was doing. She gave two updates on her case via cellphone and passed him a handful of times in the halls, engrossed in papers every time and unaware of him going by.
Grissom let himself wonder if she was avoiding him exactly once and then forced the thought aside for the rest of the night.
Catherine knocked on his doorjamb and walked in, closing the door behind her. Grissom watched the action with a blank face, mentally calculating the number of reasons she would want privacy.
"Look, the last thing I wanna do is get in the middle of some personal thing." Grissom's eyebrows bunched in confusion. "So if that's what's going on between you and Sara, just say so."
His reply was a second delayed. "If you mean taking her off the Denton case, the only personal issue was on Sara's part."
"Okay," Catherine shrugged. But her bright blue eyes were eyeing Grissom like a hawk and saying something else entirely.
"You know Sara," he half-smiled, ignoring the urge to squirm under her gaze. "Sometimes she needs to be reined in." The words seemed familiar. It took Grissom a moment to recall a similar conversation with Catherine a few years ago.
Sara. You know... She gets very emotional.
And that was when things were less complicated, he thought, frustrated. If she was angry, Grissom doubted that a plant would ease her mood much this time. In fact, considering all the tension between them, on-and-off, for a long time now, he wouldn't be very surprised if she ran into his office and flung it at him.
Grissom reflectively winced and Catherine raised a sarcastic eyebrow in question but didn't say anything.
"Are you having a problem with the case? I'm sure Sara could answer any questions you may have."
"It's fine, considering I have my own caseload to worry about. Coming on to a half-processed case is hardly a dream come true."
Sounding tired and sterner than he intended, Grissom said, "If it's more than you can handle—"
She held her arms out in mock-surrender. "Hey, it's no big deal. I'm just saying if you wanted to reconsider Sara's involvement it wouldn't break my heart."
"I'll keep that in mind. Anything else I can do for you?"
"You could tell me what crawled up your ass."
There had to be a great sarcastic reply to that. All Grissom could muster was, "What?"
"You've been a human yo-yo lately. I get that Sara's attack caused some of it, but you've been acting weird for longer."
"Weird."
"Yeah. Well, you know, weirder than usual. You're tired, you're rested; you're irritable, you're cheerful. Up and down, up and down. You want to talk about it?"
Grissom gestured at the files covering his desk. "Just enduring the joys of supervisory servitude."
"Uh-huh. Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. Okay?"
"Sure." He forced a smile. "Thanks."
Grissom didn't stay long after his conversation with Catherine. He couldn't seem to concentrate. He waved goodbye to a distracted Nick on his way out; the others had already left.
Going home didn't go as well as he had hoped. Lately, his habit had been to walk in, toss his keys on the kitchen counter and breathe a sigh of relief. It probably wasn't the healthiest act, but Grissom embraced the chance to ignore his problems. Today, though, everything felt off. The temperature felt a few degrees too cool, the air seemed stale, the furniture looked unimpressive. He was only seeing his home as a group of empty rooms.
- - - - - - - - -
He had gone without sleep before. It may not be as easy as it had once been, but he would be fine. Or so Grissom kept silently insisting as he maneuvered his car into the emptying LVPD parking lot.
Grissom had meant to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere in his townhouse by going straight to bed. But sleep wouldn't come. So instead, he did every task he could imagine to pass the time and hopefully tire himself out. Clean the spotless kitchen and living room, buy groceries, pay bills two weeks early, and prepare an unnecessarily complex meal.
He had considered, and discarded, the idea of playing a classical CD and reclining on his sofa with a book or forensics journal. Just the thought made him uncomfortable.
Inside, he claimed his stack of messages from the front desk and proceeded to the lab, frowning at the asinine questions left by the sheriff's office and two day shift techs.
A ruffling sound caught his attention. He stopped and looked around, finding no source of the noise. He took two more steps before a ball of crumpled paper landed at his feet with a similar sound. Frowning, Grissom walked forward and peered into the break room. Sara was alone, leaning against the conference table and frowning as well, attempting to make what he could only guess was a paper airplane. With a final fold she threw it to one side, only to have it hoop in the air and hit her. Annoyed, she crumpled up the paper and tossed it aside – towards the door and Grissom – without looking and grabbed another sheet from a pile of printer paper.
"If you're going to waste department resources, you should at least make it look like an experiment."
Sara looked up, startled, and offered an uncertain smile that Grissom knew would bother him for the rest of the day. "My specialty is physics. You'd think I could conquer the art of paper airplanes."
He glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. "Shift doesn't start for another two hours."
"And I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here," she said, collecting the paper balls at her feet. "I needed to speak with a pit boss at the Tangiers and he just got back from vacation. This is latest he would be available today."
"Did you get the information you were hoping for?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "It just confirmed everything we already knew. Ruined our suspect's alibi, for one thing." She shuffled the leftover paper into a neat pile. "So now there's nothing left to do but wait for a new assignment."
"You're completely caught up?" He couldn't hide his envy.
"Yep." Sara grinned. "I'd offer to help with the files in your office, but Catherine's already warned us against it."
"Of course," Grissom grumbled. "Wouldn't want to spoil me." She didn't say anything more and tired as he was, Grissom didn't trust himself to start a new topic. "I'll be in my office. Next case is yours."
"Thanks." She held up her cellphone. "Call me if you get anything soon. I might as well grab something to eat before shift."
After 20 minutes Grissom was ready to call Sara merely for the distraction. She seemed to be in a good mood, and if there was something Grissom needed desperately at the moment, it was cheer. He glanced upward and silently wished for a busy night. Anything to distract him from paperwork.
Thinking that some of the others might also be coming in early, he left his office in search of them, figuring that "unexpectedly" running into them and discussing any updates in their cases could easily burn half an hour.
He tried the break room, the labs, and the evidence locker. Nothing. His last hope was the locker room and considering the silence coming from the open door Grissom knew his chances were slim. But he poked his head in hopefully nonetheless, and was rewarded with the sight of Sara hanging her jacket in her locker.
"You're back."
She smiled brightly at his appearance. "Hey! Yeah, the diner was packed. Figured I could just eat here."
"And wait for a case?" he asked knowingly. There was a slight teasing tone he hadn't intended, but it worked well. Sara's smile softened and she took a step closer.
"Guilty," she admitted. "But until then I'm just a girl eating cheap diner take-out before work." She held up a bag. "I, uh, grabbed something for you too. I was just gonna leave it on your desk, but if you want..."
Grissom surprised himself by debating the idea and abruptly stopped when he realized that quality time with Sara should never be compared to the loathsome paperwork on his desk.
"Sure. I have a few minutes."
Sara barely hid her surprise. "Great. Lead the way." She was barely out the door before she started discussing a conference she was hoping to attend in a few months. Grissom realized that a pattern was developing. Whenever they were alone and expected to talk, Sara immediately went to safe topics. Cases, studies, conferences. Work, in some way. He wondered if that was for her benefit or his. Both, maybe.
Still, as she continued to chat about the guest lecturers slated for the event, sincerely enthusiastic and unaware of his thoughts, Grissom grew uncomfortable.
"Actually," he interrupted her, stopping a few feet from the break room, "I think I'll go back to my office."
"Sure," she replied immediately. She was expecting this, Grissom thought, mentally sighing. She pulled a Styrofoam container from the bag and handed it to him. "I wasn't sure if you actually wanted breakfast, considering it's night." A practiced grin. "So I went with a sandwich."
"Thanks, Sara." He hesitated. "Really, it was very thoughtful."
That she hadn't expected, clearly. "Just don't forget to eat it. No offense, but you look like you could use the energy."
Adept as her at covering discomfort with humor, he tried to think of a joking response but she didn't seem interested. In fact, she seemed to consider the topic ended because she was already walking into the break room.
His sigh wasn't suppressed this time. Food in hand he went back to his office and quickly decided that paperwork could wait until he had eaten. Grissom flipped open the container to find turkey on wheat bread, mustard, no mayo. Exactly the way he preferred it. Any other man would smile at the gesture. Grissom found himself nodding, as if she had gotten a homework problem correct.
"Well, well, what've we got here?"
Grissom peered through his glasses to his door, half-open, and the voice beyond. A man that he didn't recognize stood beyond the door's view.
"What are you doing back here, unescorted?" That was Sara, chilly and clearly trying to control her temper.
Meal forgotten, Grissom walked to the door and looked out. At the middle of the hallway leading to the receptionist's desk was a handsome middle-aged man. The confident grin he was offering Sara was nearly a sneer, and behind his snobby tone was something a little more threatening.
"Your cop friend's around here somewhere. I'm just waiting for my lawyer."
"You'll have to wait in the chairs up front." Her shoulders were stiff. He couldn't see from this angle, but Grissom knew her well enough to guess that Sara was sticking her chin out in defiance.
"Easy there, girl. I'm here to help. I loved Grace. I'll do whatever I can to help."
"The chairs. Up front." Grace Denton, Grissom realized. The murder case. He began to walk towards them.
"That's right, you're not working on Grace's case anymore, are you?" Grissom silently cursed whatever officer let that slip. "What's the matter, girlie? Was I too much for you?"
"...Don't make me call security." Aster's eyes moved from Sara to Grissom as he approached.
"But I haven't done anything wrong," Aster rebuked. "I'm just a grieving boyfriend trying to help the police find whatever monster did this." Sara remained silent as he retreated to the seating area.
Grissom waited until Aster was out of sight before facing Sara. Her eyes met his and a dozen conflicting emotions shone through.
"You okay?" he asked in a low, sympathetic voice.
She nodded, unsure of her voice. Grissom more than understood. He wrapped a protective arm around her and guided her back down the hall, feeling the tense muscles beneath her shirt and wisely staying silent.
Once she was seated at the break room table where her food had been spread out, she immediately smiled and reassured him that she was fine. She turned her attention to her salad before he could say anything more.
Grissom went to his office and after considering the sandwich on his desk for a long moment, he picked up the box and walked back to the break room to eat with Sara.
She seemed unaware of him standing in the doorway. She was staring at her food, eyes unfocused, an angry frown tugging at her lips. She could have spoken her mind to Dr. Aster. Hell, she could've lunged at him. Grissom didn't put it past her. But instead she had remained calm and let him think that he had won.
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is nothing.
"Let's make a deal." She looked up at him, then the sandwich, in surprise. He smiled conspiratorially. "I won't tell anyone that you're here before shift if you don't tell anyone that I came in early and ignored my paperwork."
Grissom sat down across from her and took out his sandwich, and asked her about the planned lectures for the conference she was so eager to attend.