I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I hope you like this!

Prologue.

That Sunday afternoon, Sara went to Catherine's office. She had prepared a short speech, but as soon as Catherine motioned her to enter and talk, Sara found herself tongue-tied. Still, she knew she couldn't just stand there, dumbly looking at her supervisor.

"I- hum, I need your help." She blurted out, "I've got to… I mean, I need-" deep breath, "I need a dress. Can you help me?"

"A-" Catherine opened her mouth in surprise, "A dress?

"Yeah. I'm going to a-" she paused. If she told Catherine what she needed the dress for, she'd never hear the end of it. "Yeah," She said instead, "I'd like to buy one, but I don't have a clue where to go, and if I go alone, I'll just walk around and waste my time, so-" big gulp, "Can you help me?"

"Sure!" Catherine said enthusiastically "Sure, Sara; wow, this is so unexpected- Do you want to do this now?"

"Can you?" Sara asked, truly relieved.

"Sure! I was getting sick of reading reports anyway," Catherine said, capping her pen, "Let's go!" She grabbed her keys and purse, and said "You know, last week I saw a dress that would look great on you-"

"Really?" Sara asked cautiously, "I was thinking of something that's not shiny or too short-"

"Oh," Catherine faltered a little, but she recovered quickly. She glanced at Sara's chest, "Well, I saw one that has a nice front-"

"No cleavage, either." Sara interrupted firmly.

"Oh, come on Sara, you could pull it off if you wore a-"

"And no push up bras either," Sara finished, and the look on her face told Catherine that it was useless to argue.

Catherine sighed.

"All right, have it your way." She relented. "Nothing short or shiny or with a low cut." Before they left her office, she turned to Sara, "But I have rules too. First," she said, "You won't wear that pale frosted lipstick ever again."

"What?" Sara self-consciously touched her lips, "What's wrong with it?"

"Are you kidding? With the lighting in this building you look as if you should be on a slab down at the morgue! As for my second rule," Catherine paused to get Sara's full attention, "No more blue eye shadow applied like cake frosting."

Sara considered arguing in her defense, but in the end she humbly accepted Catherine's conditions.

"All right then" Catherine said as she glanced at her watch, "We have two hours for this." She started walking and then she suddenly stopped, "Wait. Show me your hands."

Sara obeyed, a little mystified.

"You're getting a manicure. And a pedicure." She added, walking down the hallway with long, determined strides and forcing Sara to hurry behind, "You'll need open-toed shoes-"

"But no high heels-" Sara said, hurrying behind the older woman.

"Oh, don't you start!" Catherine protested.

Sara carefully hung her new dress in her closet. In the end, she had chosen a nice strawberry red dress that –according to the salesperson- didn't shout, look at me, I'm desperate for attention! but made people whisper, Whoa, who's that?

Sara thought she looked ok in it. At least she felt like herself in it and that was important to her. Shopping with Catherine had been nicer than she would have thought, even after having to fence Catherine's inquiries about the dress and what she needed it for.

'If I can survive an afternoon with Catherine, I can survive anything.' Sara mused.

This thought reminded her of something she had been trying to do all day. She had started dialing Tina's phone number countless of times, only to hang up abruptly.

'I can survive this. I can.' She told herself, glancing at the phone.

Stalling for time, she checked out her e-mail.

There were three messages from Grissom. She eagerly opened them but by the second message she was disappointed. His messages were almost all about the butterfly reserve, with barely any mention of himself. He didn't seem to have any trouble with time off anymore; clearly, his initial panic had subsided since he had butterflies to focus his whole attention on.

Even the pictures he enclosed were all of the reserve or of other people. She would have loved to see if he was getting a tan or if he was wearing the colorful clothes made locally…

But he was turning his attention away from him- as always.

She didn't finish reading his third message. Instead, she sat back and mused on the things that had happened since he left.

She didn't know if his absence had helped, but suddenly Sara had discovered that people around her actually cared about her. Sure, Catherine patronized her; but she had spent an afternoon helping Sara into getting the best dress she could; Greg was infuriating sometimes, but he was a sweet, loyal friend. And Warrick… God, he had given her a lesson in friendship. They had reached out and done something while Grissom had simply avoided any involvement.

'Stop it.' Sara told herself. It was unfair to think like this. He had his own problems; he just … he was Grissom. That explained everything; and just then she resigned herself to the thought that her feelings for Grissom might be waning. It was painful, though.

She looked at the phone again. Needing to forget Grissom for a moment, she grabbed the phone and dialed the number and waited… until a familiar voice answered.

MONDAY

Sara felt physically and emotionally drained. Six hours ago, she had been getting ready to go home at the end of the shift, when Brass asked her to help in a case. Cops had found a dead body in the trunk of a car… in the middle of the desert. She had resigned herself to go, but she wasn't happy. Brass initial attempt at conversation, ("You ok, Sara? You look-") had backfired; Sara's answer, ("I'm not drunk, if that's what you think.") just didn't leave an open door for conversation.

Now Sara was finishing with her examination of the trunk. David had removed the body a while ago, but there was enough evidence left behind to keep her occupied for hours. She had dealt unflinchingly with the blood and the brain matter, but there were maggots in there and she couldn't help to think of Grissom as she carefully preserved them.

"I'm finished here, Brass." Sara said at last. It was almost noon and the sun was already too bright, so she gladly let Brass drive.

Distracted by the sight of the desert, Sara mentally reviewed her conversation with Tina. Her old friend had been surprised and concerned when she heard Sara's voice, ('My God Sara, are you all right?'), immediately asking if Sara was doing some 12-step program that required her to call others. ('I've done 12-step programs several times,' Tina had explained candidly, 'but I failed every time. I just never had the guts to call you. But I've heard about you; I know you're doing some good.')

They had ended up crying, both apologizing for not calling before.

"It was my fault" Tina said abruptly, "You know, what happened that night." Before Sara could argue, she added, "Wait and hear me out, Sara. I know I was the victim, but I can't help feeling guilty. I knew something was going to happen." Tina took a deep breath before adding, "It's so hard to tell you this. I'm afraid you won't respect me much, but you called me and… all I can do is tell you the truth, right? Ok. Well, this is it." She said, pausing for a moment. "Do you remember that night? Remember how I teased you and talked you into going to that party?" she didn't wait for Sara's answer, "Sara, I was simply trying to get rid of you. I needed a room and yours was the closest. Do you understand? I wasn't going to study or write a report; I was meeting someone." she paused for a moment, "If I told you the name, you wouldn't remember him; he was just another loser wasting time on campus and you didn't care much for those." She scoffed, "I didn't either, but he was cute and popular, so… I asked him to meet me. When I got to your room, he was already there… with another guy. I said, 'no way' but they weren't taking no for an answer, so they-" she gulped, "-they… you know." she paused, taking several deep breaths. "When it was over and they released me, I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. They were really freaked out by my reaction, you know? God, those idiots thought they were living some sort of Penthouse forum fantasy and didn't understand why I was screaming instead of asking for more!"

"God, Tina-"

"After they left, I washed every piece of bedding, remember? I was frantic; all I could think of was that if I cleaned up everything, I could pretend nothing had happened. I was sure I could get away with it, you know? Even my bruises could be explained away! All I had to do was to wash them off me and keep my mouth shut, and nobody would know. I was telling myself I'd be ok, when suddenly you were there and all my plans went to hell. You came back early." She said, making it sound like an accusation, "You took a look at me and you knew. At that moment I realized I wouldn't get away with it, and I swear- I swear I was mad at you, Sara. You were telling me what to do as if it were so easy to admit that I'd been-" she swallowed hard, "See? It's still hard for me to admit it. And it's hard to admit this, but for a long time I hated you more than I hated those two men-"

"I'm… I'm sorry." Sara whispered.

"Why? I was unfair to you; I was a coward-"

"I should have been there for you, no matter what. I'm sorry I wasn't."

"Oh, Sara, me, too," Tina said, "I really needed a friend then. But there was nothing you could do; I was mad at you, and mostly I was ashamed of myself, for bringing it upon myself-"

"Tina, no, don't say that-"

"Ok, ok, I know. I know many things now; mostly, that you were right that night. It only took me some years and a few thousand dollars worth of therapy to accept it." She chuckled, "It would have been cheaper to listen to you, Sara." And then Tina had asked, "Do you still want to be my friend after this?"

The answer was a 'yes, of course' and more crying.

Now, Sara smiled a little as she remembered the rest of their conversation. Tina wanted to see her, but didn't dare visiting Las Vegas. ('I'm recovering from several addictions and if I go there, I just know I'll start betting. But hey, if you come, my mom will be thrilled-')

Sara had said yes without thinking about it, but she was sure she could pull it off. She'd ask Catherine for a couple of days off, and she'd take them by the time Grissom returned, so her absence wouldn't cause any trouble-

Brass interrupted her thoughts.

"Gruesome case, huh?" he said. "Grissom would have loved it"

"Uh, huh." She muttered.

"Because of the maggots." He added.

"Uh, huh."

"I still can't believe he left." He mused aloud and Sara winced at the word 'left'.

"It's just a vacation." Sara muttered, more for her own benefit.

"Just a vacation?" he repeated, "Sara, this is Grissom we're talking about."

"So?" she asked with indifference, even though she knew perfectly well what Brass meant.

"'So?'" Brass repeated, gently mocking her. He kept smiling until she briefly smiled back.

"You're right." She relented. 'He's Grissom' she thought again. She was silent for a moment, and then she abruptly asked, "Why is he like this?"

"Hey, you're asking me?" he joked. "I'll be honest with you." He said more seriously, "I'm glad he went away. I've been worried about him."

"Why?" she frowned.

"He's been working too hard, lately. I know," he said, when he saw her expression; "You're going to say that he's always done that; but he's taking it to extremes, Sara. Did you know that he no longer raises cockroaches? He really acts as if the lab is his whole world and anything he can't have under his full control just doesn't exist." He glanced at Sara, but she didn't comment. "I do understand him," Brass conceded. "Up to a point at least." He was warming up to the subject; he rarely had a chance to talk about his friend, "Gil craves control, and the job provides him with that illusion. He likes being a supervisor and getting the lab to move along the way he wants to, but at the same time he's become isolated. You know, a while ago I asked what he did after work and he said, 'More work'." Brass shook his head, "Days later I got some tickets to a game and I told him, you know, let's go to a game, let's just get out of the building."

"What did he say?" she asked, staring straight ahead.

"He said he knew what I was trying to do." Brass smiled, "He asked me not to worry about him, and that he was ok. But at the last minute, he said something- and I felt he was talking more to himself than to me- he said that he was afraid of stopping."

Their gazes met briefly.

"Stopping?" Sara whispered. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure; but this man has barely any life outside the lab, Sara. I think he dreads going home and facing that fact. But hey," he added, "the good news is that for some reason, he's stopped. Last night he even sounded like the old Gil-"

"He called you?"

"Yeah." He said casually, and then he cringed. He wasn't supposed to mention this. Not to Sara, anyway. He knew what she was thinking. Gil hadn't called her. He debated whether to tell her everything. If he did, he'd piss her off but if he didn't …

Oh, what the hell.

"He wanted to know how you were doing." He said.

"Why would he ask you?" She frowned.

"Because I've been keeping an eye on you." He calmly replied, "He asked me to just before he left. After what happened the other night he was worried."

"He what?" she gaped, "How dare he? Damn it, Brass, is this how he sees me? As some little kid who needs someone watching over her?"

"Sara, he just cares about you." He said gently. He noticed Sara's skeptical expression and he added, "Hey, I'm serious. He just has a hard time showing it, but he does."

"But not enough-" she said curtly.

"Sara, come on." Brass pleaded, "You're the one person he really cares about."

Sara looked at Brass for a brief moment, wishing she could believe him. When she looked away, she realized that traffic was uncommonly light. They would get back to the lab sooner than expected, and she'd never get another chance to talk about this.

She didn't look at him when she spoke again.

"Did Grissom ever sleep with Lady Heather?"

It was fortunate that there were no car behind them because Brass nearly lost control of the car. He recovered quickly, though.

"Who told you about her?" he asked evasively.

Sara looked back at him.

"Is he still sleeping with her?" She asked. She noticed that Brass was at a loss for words and finally she had pity on him. "That's ok, Brass; he's your friend. Forget I asked."

Actually, Brass was debating with himself. This was Gil's personal life, the little he had allowed Brass to witness. Brass knew he owed his friend some loyalty, but Sara needed some answers too.

Brass silently drove on until he found a place to park the car. Once he did, he turned to Sara, looking at her in the eye.

"He didn't sleep with her." He said, simply. "He was working on a case that she was involved in too, and things just soured between them too soon."

"But he was attracted to her." She argued.

"He was fascinated by her." Brass admitted, "As fascinated as he's by anything that's devious. You know him; he likes to know what moves people to be different. And before you ask me, no, it wasn't just the image that intrigued him. This woman… she's not someone from the strip who got lucky. She's really smart, educated-"

That actually made her feel worse.

"Do you think he still loves her?" she asked.

"Sara… I don't think he ever did."

"But she's beautiful." Sara said.

"Tarantulas are beautiful to him too." Brass said, "I'll be honest with you; I didn't understand the attraction." He scoffed, "Wait, that's not true. I did, at first. I thought it was just a middle age crisis. But when I confronted him about it, he just lost me."

"What did he say?"

"He said something like, 'she knows what I am and she doesn't mind.'

Sara felt lost too. What could Heather possibly know that Sara didn't? Sara thought of the woman she had seen on the screen. Beautiful, mysterious, and smart; wise in the ways of the world - an expert in manipulating men. That thought made her smile bitterly. Grissom simply fell for it.

"I think Gil was intrigued by the world she inhabited." Brass mused aloud, "It was a fantasy world, but a very structured one… He learned all there was to it –which is what he does when he faces the unknown, right? He studied her the way he studies criminal types; you know, so he's ready when he meets them. He read all about submission and dominance and all that crap, and he learned her rules. He liked that: Here was the possibility of having a relationship where he knew what to expect, and what was expected of him. He was in control. And our Gil needs control, remember?" he paused but Sara's profile didn't reveal anything. "What neither of them realized," Brass added, "was that he had a set of rules too. Or better said- one rule: there's nothing more important than my job. When the evidence pointed in her direction, he had no choice but to act upon it. She never forgave him."

"But he was willing to approach her." Sara whispered. That summed it all up in Sara's mind: He had done for Heather what he'd never do for her. "He pursued her." She said bitterly

"Sara-"

"I'm glad you told me this." She interrupted, glancing at him for the first time, "It was about time I saw things clearly, you know? We can go back to the lab now-"

"Hey, I'm not finished yet." He said gently.

"But I am," she said, forcing a smile.

Brass sighed.

"Sara, try to understand. He thought she would accept him unconditionally-"

"But I've always-" Sara blurted out, stopping before saying the rest.

"I know you do." Brass said, reaching out to pat her hand soothingly, "I know, Sara."

Sara flushed and looked away. 'I've always accepted him' she was going to say.

"It's stupid." She muttered.

"It's not stupid." He said gently. "Sara…" He paused, "I once asked him, you know? About his feelings for you." he waited until Sara reluctantly looked up at him, "I asked him why he didn't just admit that he had them." He added, "And he just sighed and shrugged, and said that you deserved better. That you should be with someone who shows you the world, not someone who would only keep you behind close doors-"

"That's very poetic," she said lightly, fighting hard not to reveal how much those words hurt.

"-He also said you should be with someone you could trust-" he added.

"I do trust him-" she argued

"Do you, Sara?" he said softly, "He sees you as someone who's been hurt and needs to open up about it. He says he tried to reach out to you a long time and you resisted. He told me he never tried again because he was afraid he'd lose you altogether, and because –in his own words- he's just like you and has no right to pry into your life. But he kept hoping that someone else might be able to help you."

Sara remembered. A few years back, he had asked her why some cases were so hard for her to take and she had practically told him to go bother someone else. Rather than angering her further, he had backed down… as he always did.

"But I've tried to approach him," she said bitterly. "Only I don't have a website-" she mumbled, "and I don't wear leather."

"Sara, try to understand," Brass said, smiling gently, "It's hard for him. All he really knows about life, he's learned from books. And there's no books or rules or websites on Sara Sidle. He's afraid-"

Sara sighed.

"Let's go back to the lab."

"Sara, think about it-"

"Thank you, Brass." She said with a brief smile. "Really. I needed to know all this. Now I have to go process this evidence."

"Ok, kid." He said. Before he dropped her at the CSI lab, he said, "I promise I won't be keeping an eye on you anymore if you promise to behave."

"I promise." She said, lifting her right hand.

She walked down the hallway, thinking of their conversation.

'What am I going to do now?' she asked herself. Her feelings for Grissom might be waning but she just couldn't stop loving him that fast. She was determined to look at the future with a critical eye, though. She could not go on like this. Not unless he did a move or something. After all, he had approached this Heather woman –for whatever reasons – so he was capable of it. What had he done for Sara, except reject her every time?

'-and leave.' She muttered.

She reached for the keys in her pocket, and suddenly she had this image of Grissom, searching in his pockets for a travel brochure. Suddenly, she remembered something from Thursday night that her hung over brain had blocked then. Things he had said. That, and the pride that was evident as he talked about his travel plans.

'I'm determined to do this.' He had said. And 'I'm going to be a better role model.' He had said too.

Sara froze. Other lab workers looked at her curiously but she didn't notice. Her mind was focused on a sudden thought that was too fantastic to believe... but it was the truth. Wasn't it?

'He's stopped because of me.' she almost said it aloud.

She stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at nothing, enjoying the warmth that this thought brought to her heart.

TBC

Coming up:

TUESDAY: Catherine again. And Nick does something nice.