"Nick, Sara, you've got a B&E," Grissom spoke, starting to hand out assignments, "Cath, you and Warrick take the suspected suicide, Greg, come with me, I'm taking you to a hit and run."
Grissom left the room as soon as he handed out the assignments, and Greg followed him. "Sure, he takes Greg because he'll ask the least questions," Catherine muttered.
Sara shot Catherine an icy stare. "Why can't you just mind your own business sometime?"
"You don't think it's any of my business what happened during my shift?" Catherine snapped back.
"You don't care what really happened, you just want the information so you can gossip!" Sara shouted.
Warrick stepped in between them and spread them apart. "We've got jobs to do. Catherine, let's go."
Warrick dragged Catherine out the door and Nick appeared in front of Sara. "Come on," he spoke, resting a hand on her arm, "we should get going too."
Sara nodded and the two walked out the door.
Halfway through shift, Catherine and Warrick had just finished collecting evidence from the suicide scene. They had stayed completely silent the entire time, and Catherine finally spoke when they got back into the car. "I can't believe her!" Catherine spoke.
"Cath, are you still thinking about that? That was hours ago!"
"You know as well as I do that Griss is trying to suppress everything."
"Cath, I'm sure he and Sara have talked about things, and they wouldn't be here if they weren't ready to come back."
"Yeah, right," Catherine's reply dripped with sarcasm.
"Cath, I know what you're trying to do, but stop. You know how Grissom and Sara are, and they're not going to appreciate you poking into their business. He just lost his mother Cath, at least give him a little break before you start badgering him about something."
Catherine was put off by Warrick's statement, and she turned to stare out the window. "I suggest you make amends with Sara," Warrick spoke, "remember that she too had just come back from arguing with the sheriff."
Catherine remained silent, and it was a long awkward drive back to the lab.
"Greg, what do you see?" Grissom asked, the two of them standing by the victim's body in the morgue, Dr. Robbins standing at the head.
"Textbook marks at the knees, the victim was hit head on, facing the car," Greg stated.
"Very good," Grissom noted.
"The vic has two numbers off of a license plate bruised into his leg. That with the green paint transfer, you might be able to narrow the field somewhat," Dr. Robbins relayed.
"COD?" Grissom asked.
"Blunt force trauma to the head, most likely from impact with the ground. His skull is shattered," Dr. Robbins pointed to the x-rays.
"Thanks Al," Grissom said, turning to leave the morgue.
Greg followed behind him and went to trace to start analyzing the paint.
"How was your little chat with the sheriff?" Nick asked Sara once they had brought the evidence from the B&E back to the lab.
Sara shrugged her shoulders and continued dusting for prints. "He was just trying to assert his power. He said a whole bunch of crap that was extremely accusatory."
"About what?"
"Griss and I."
"And?"
"Griss told him off. Told him he better not have any more problems with him in the near future."
Nick smiled. "That must have been entertaining."
"I was outside the door."
"Ahh, so he was protecting you too."
"Shut up Nick," Sara spoke, kicking his foot under the table.
The two ended their banter and returned to dusting for prints.
At the end of shift, Sara sat in the break room, waiting for Grissom to finish up in his office. "How was your scene?" Catherine asked, entering the break room.
"Okay, pretty cut and dry. The home owner was trying to stage a robbery; Brass is talking to him now."
Catherine nodded. "Did the sheriff give you a hard time?"
"Yeah, his usual. He was making a lot of false accusations."
"Sara, sorry about before."
"Yeah, well, I wish you would quit doing that. Grissom doesn't need a keeper, we make out quite fine together."
"Oh, I can imagine," Catherine joked, a grin stretching across her face.
Sara blushed. "Cath," she said, exasperated.
"Okay, okay. I'll try and stop, but you know me."
"Cath, just don't call him out in front of the lab, you know Griss hates that."
"He wasn't there."
"Oh, that makes it so much better," Sara shot back.
"Are we okay?" Catherine asked, punching her shoulder.
"Yeah," Sara admitted.
"When do you want to go shopping for your wedding?" Catherine changed the subject.
Sara groaned. "Cath, I just got back."
"I know, I know, but you need something to cheer you up a little."
"Believe me, wedding shopping will just make me more stressed out."
"Come on Sara, it'll be fun," Catherine tried again.
"Cath, it's the week before Christmas, the stores will be a mad house right now."
"Not necessarily."
"But traffic will be even worse than usual. I'll tell you what," Sara reasoned, "whatever day you come up with after Christmas, I'll go, but it has to be after Christmas."
"Alright Sara, but you're not chickening out of this. Everything has to look perfect at your wedding."
"Cath, remember, I want it to be simple. I will kill you if you go overboard on me."
Catherine smiled. "Who me?" she said innocently.
Sara rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'm out of here, see you later," Catherine spoke.
They exchanged goodbyes and Catherine left the room. A few minutes later, Grissom poked his head into the room. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.
"I was just waiting on you," Sara got up from the couch.
They trailed out of the lab and headed home.
After arriving home, they went straight to bed. When Sara awoke, the clock read eleven AM, she had only been asleep for four hours. Sara carefully extricated herself from Grissom's grasp and walked out into the living room. She pulled a blanket from the hall closet, and wrapped herself up on the couch. She lay there pondering her thoughts when she heard the doorbell go off. She tried to look somewhat presentable in her pajamas, and Sara looked through the peephole. Sara saw a delivery man, and she opened the door. "Are you a Ms. Sidle?" the delivery man asked.
"Yes."
"I have a delivery for you. If you would just sign this paper for me," the delivery man handed her a clipboard.
Sara signed the paper and watched as the delivery man returned with a long, thin, wide box. "Where would you like this?"
"Please set it down on the stair there, can I manage to get it into the house."
The delivery man set the box down, returned to his truck, and drove away. Sara carefully slid the box up a step and into the house. She lifted it up and placed in on the dining room table. I wonder what this is?
When Sara looked at the return address on the box, she dropped into a chair. She rested her head against the cold wood and took a few deep breaths. "Who was at the door?" Grissom asked, emerging from the bedroom.
Sara jumped and looked up at him. Grissom's hair was ruffled, and sleep plagued his face. "Delivery man," Sara replied, trying to wipe the frown off of her face.
"The packages couldn't have come already," Grissom reasoned.
"It's not those packages," Sara stated.
Grissom was puzzled. "What is it?" he asked, moving to wrap his arms around her from behind.
Sara's voice was almost a whisper. "My wedding dress."
"Can I see it?" Grissom joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Sara tried to laugh, but tears streamed down her face instead. Grissom turned her around, wiped her tears away, and pulled her into a tight hug. "That's bad luck, don't you know that?" Sara tried to joke back.
Grissom kissed the top of her head. "Just a peek?" he nudged.
"No, you are not jinxing our wedding."
Grissom chuckled and started to lead her back to the bedroom. "Come on, I don't know what you were doing up already, but you are most definitely coming back to bed."
Sara complied and allowed Grissom to usher her back to the bedroom. They snuggled together, and Grissom waited until Sara fell asleep before he allowed himself to drift off.