A/N: This sort of fits as a continuation, so I've posted it as another chapter. Also, I forgot to thank my beta reader in the first bit. Am I insane! So, thanks, papijo.

Spoilers for "Formalities".

--

...And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers...

-excerpt of "Comes the Dawn" by Veronica A. Shoffstall

--

As she turned the corner into the locker room the muffled hum of conversation sharpened, as if someone had tuned a radio.

"Sara's gonna freak when she hears about this."

"Freak about what, Nick?" Sara said as she stood at the end of the bench and looked down at the two conspirators.

Catherine's head jerked up and she had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Uh, we... we were just talking about the upcoming holidays. Looks like you're tagged to work Christmas again."

Sara frowned. "Why would that freak me out?" Knowing it would be easier to squeeze the information out of Nick rather than Catherine, she turned to him. "Why would that freak me out, Nick?"

He stood up quickly and shoved his gear into his locker. "I, uh, well, you know..."

"Oh, to hell with it," Catherine said, "she'll hear about it eventually. Grissom got called to work a DB when he was supposed to be at the Ecklie Appreciation Society meeting."

Sara grinned. "Yeah, I heard all about the dinner. Grissom was working on the speech when I got off shift the other morning."

"Yeah, well he was still working on it at the damn dinner," Catherine groaned.

"I'm still not freaking out."

"Well... he worked the case with someone from day shift. Ecklie's right hand man. Or should I say, woman." When Sara's blank expression encouraged her to go on, she continued, "And, you just might hear some stories, that's all."

"What kind of stories?"

"None that will have any merit whatsoever. She's Ecklie's tool. If Grissom didn't figure it out for himself, I made sure he knew all about it before the night was over. I told him to keep his friends close, but his enemies closer."

Nick snorted, "If he keeps her any closer, he'll be in her pant -" he saw the wide eyes of Catherine and quickly amended, "I meant that figuratively. I didn't..."

Putting his jacket on and patting the pockets for his keys, he said, "And that's my cue to get outta Dodge. I'll see you two ladies in fifteen hours."

"Coward," Catherine whispered as he went past.

"Survivor," he countered, and left.

As the door closed softly behind him, Catherine put her hand on Sara's arm. "Forget Nick; he's a guy, you know how they are."

Sara nodded. "I'm still not sure why he would think I would freak."

"Well," Catherine faltered, "you and Grissom..."

"There is no me and Grissom."

"Sara..."

"No, listen. There was a time where I would have cared, cared a lot. And I'll admit, I'm a bit... thrown by this, but you know what? He's a grown man. So good for him. And I'm a grown woman. It's time I started acting like one."

Catherine's eyebrows shot up. "Well. Good for you, girl. Good for you." She grabbed her jacket and closed her locker. There was something in Sara's expression that made her pause. "Hey. If you want to talk or go out for a drink sometime, you know where I am. Give me a call."

She didn't bother to tell Catherine that drinking was out of the question. She appreciated the gesture and she told her so. "Thanks. Maybe I will."

"Okay." Not knowing what else to say, if anything at all, Catherine simply said, "I'll see ya."

It was only after the door closed that Sara let the tears fall.

--

She had made a decision several weeks ago, while sitting alone on the steps of the police station, that things were going to change, that she was going to step forward instead of standing still. Of course, it was all easy in theory but there was nothing like a cold glass of water to the face to bring things back to reality. And that's what the conversation with Catherine had been – a dose of reality, daring her to put theory into practice. "Easier said than done." Her words seemed to hang in the empty room.

She opened her locker door, stripping off her shirt heavy with a long shift's worthof sadness and dead ends. As she pulled the clean tee over her head, a small white business card caught her eye. She had taped it to the inside of the door and had forgotten all about it. She pulled the card from the metal, the tape peeling away, her words echoing back to her, 'And I'm a grown woman. It's time I started acting like one'. Reaching blindly into her locker, she felt for her phone and flipped it open. She didn't dare look away from the card for fear of losing her nerve, but she was determined to do this.

Taking a deep breath she keyed in the unfamiliar sequence of numbers.

It was the sleepy tone in his voice that made her pause; she had simply taken it for granted that he would be working, that she would just catch him finishing his shift, that it would be an easy route from there to asking him to breakfast. Of course, nothing ever seemed to come easy, so why would she think it would start now?

"Hello?" he repeated, slightly more clearly.

His voice startled her out of her introspection and she covered it up with a quick, "Oh." Realizing the inanity of her response, she tried again. "Sorry. I woke you up. I didn't even think you might not be working. Sorry. I'll... I'll call back?" She cringed. What happened to the part about being a grown woman? God, when did she turn back to being fourteen?

There was a moment's silence. "Sara?" It wasn't meant to prod her, it was meant to identify her.

"What? Oh, sorry. Yeah. Yeah, it's me," she answered, now thinking that fourteen might have been a bit of an optimistic stretch.

His soft chuckle disarmed her. "Okay, now we're gettin' somewhere."

The obvious next step was to tell him why she was calling. A bit too brightly and much too quickly, she blurted out, "Hey, Det... Alex. I just thought maybe if you weren't doing anything after work, we could maybe get together and have breakfast or whatever."

"I'm not working."

"I... yeah, I know."

"So did you still want to have breakfast?"

His question stopped her in her tracks. "Uh, you mean when you get off work later, or...?"

Another chuckle rolled down the line. "How about now?"

"Oh."

"I'm probably a bit too rough around the edges to bee seen in public right now, but why don't I meet you halfway? I'll get dressed and make you breakfast."

It was only then that it occurred to Sara that Vartan was talking to her from his bed. "I... uh...," she stammered as images of him in various states of undress flashed across her mind. She couldn't help but laugh at herself. "If it's not out of your way."

"Well, I gotta get dressed at some point today, and if eggs and toast are out of my way, I don't think it will take me long to come back." She wished he could see her smile. "Besides, what am I gonna do now I'm awake?" His tone softened the remark. "You know where I live?"

"Not a clue."

"I'm at 4058 Sierra Heights."

"Is that off Pembrook?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I don't know. I think we had a decomp up there a couple of years ago." When she heard a small cough, she berated herself for the comment. "Sorry. I don't think before I speak."

"No, it's okay," he told her, "I was just thinking I've never had a conversation like this with a woman over the phone before."

Smirking, she replied, "First time for everything, I guess."

"I guess so."

Another pause passed between them, this one tinged with an odd charge. Before she gave herself too much time to analyze it, she asked, "Should I bring anything?"

"Yeah, how about some orange juice? Or whatever. I'm pretty sure I'm down to my last glass of everything."

"Okay. Orange juice it is." She wiped her palm on her jeans. "So... I'll see you. I'll see you in about twenty minutes."

"Okay," he answered. "Take your time; I've gotta pick up all my dirty laundry and hide all the porn."

By the time she had picked up her jaw, he had already hung up the phone.