Author's Note: Okay, Chapter 5 is Brass/Sara interaction, 3rd person with thoughts mixed in. As always, please R&R.

Important:Thoughts are in italics.

What Lies Beneath, pt 5

Brass sat at the wheel of his car and pondered. The moon was full, lighting up the night sky, and he found his gaze drawn to it. Should I call her? Or just go in...?

Fidgety hands skimmed over his cell phone. Aw hell. He started dialing the familiar number. After about six rings, Brass scowled and pulled the phone away from his ear, his thumb moving for the disconnect button, but a soft voice stopped him.

"Hello?"

He quickly recovered from his surprise and put the phone back to his ear. "Sara, honey, are you there? Where are you?" She sounds so small.

"I'm at the lab."

"Me too, tell me where you are inside the lab, girl." I wonder what's wrong... What's happened now?

Sara actually had to look around the room to remember her exact location. "Oh... uh... sniff I'm in Investigation Room 3. You know, with the leaf case and all..."

Brass was unlocking the door and grabbing her take-out at the same time. "You don't sound like you're having a good time honey, I'll be there in a second. Just... hold on." He leapt out of his car the moment he disconnected, tucking his cell phone in his pocket while thumbing the car-alarm button.

Sara hung up, tossing her cell phone onto the table and straightening up on the stool. She quickly wiped the last remaining tears out of her eyes and hoped she look not-so-pathetic as she felt.

Thankfully room 3 was a fair enough distance off in the corner of the lab that not many people walked by and far less had the nerve to look in. Still, she cursed the designer who made all the rooms at the crime lab glass-walled. She felt like an insect under a microscope. Huh. Wonder where that analogy came from... she thought bitterly. Even though he had completely spurned her, Sara's mind returned to him subconsciously.

She decided to explore variations on the theme. Maybe I'm a flying insect, somewhere between a moth and a butterfly. I'm not ugly and tough enough to definitely be a moth, nor do I have the astounding beauty of a butterfly. So he has chloroformed me and stuck me under his microscope to have a better look. Figures that he could never let me go. I'd fly away...

Maybe I should.

Brass hustled down the hallways until he found his destination, bursting through the door with unmistakable-square-white-box in hand. "Hiya Sara! I brought you something!"

She found herself rolling her eyes at his energetic demeanor (despite the fact that she was honestly hungry). "What is it?"

"Only your favorite vegeburger covered in your favorite toppings from your favorite vegeburger establishment!"

Sara's jaw dropped and she jumped off the stool. "A hefty-veggie on wheat with tomatoes and pickles and cheese from Sandoval's?" She gave Brass an air-hug around the box, careful not to knock it out of his hands. "Sweet!"

Something is suspicious here. Brass cleared his throat while pulling the box away from her grabbing hands. "Sara, honey, you sounded dead a few seconds ago, and then you perked up like a chihuahua. What's up?"

"I really like those burgers. You know that," she replied offhandedly.

"Yeah but, not that much." He looked at her, honestly looked at her and knew a turning point had been reached. Her body language screamed of controlled defeat. Her eyes were darting everywhere but to his; she knew he'd know as soon as their eyes met. Worst of all, her hands were shaking again, and she fidgeted with them. Finally she resorted to clasping them behind her back and stamping her foot impatiently. "Tell me what happened..."

With his free hand, Brass herded Sara back to the work table, taking a stool on the opposite side and sitting down the vegeburger where she couldn't reach it. No more excuses or distractions, it was time for the truth.

Sara took a deep, shaky breath. "Grissom came by earlier."

Brass found that (in and of itself) not enough of a reason for her to be this upset but, knowing his friend, Grissom's visit could have easily degenerated into a brawl. "What did he say?"

She restlessly rubbed her trembling hands together. "Oh... he said this and that... He told me I was pale, that I was working too much and that I wasn't allowed to work any more overtime. He also questioned whether or not I was sleeping. Then... I snapped at him. I said some pretty mean things." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I pushed him away!" Her head slipped down into her hands again and she fought to keep talking. "I tried to make it better but he was gone!"

Brass looked at the door sharply. "He walked out on you?"

"No, his eyes... They closed up again and I couldn't reach him." She knew what had happened but found it frustratingly hard to relate without losing her calm control.

(He decided to take that last statement at face value). "Oh... So what happened then?"

She sniffled and put on her best Grissom-voice. "He said that 'if I can take care of myself I should, so he wouldn't have to'!" That was the last she could get out, though, before she broke into bawling.

He let her cry. He knew that she needed this, a good cathartic cry where someone would be there to hold her when she was done. When her heaving sobs stopped, Sara felt Brass's large hand on her forearm, rubbing gently in soothing motions.

"Th... Thank you."

He gave her his winning smile. "No problem Sara. I'm here for you whenever, you know? Whenever you need someone to talk to, or whenever you need a shoulder to cry on. I got you, babe."

That at least made her smirk, enough to let him know he'd gotten through to her. "So, in a nutshell, Grissom came here concerned, got a bit pushy, you pushed back, he closed off, you tried to reconcile, he wouldn't have it, he sniped back at you, then left. Have my amazingly impeccable detective skills got that right?"

"In a nutshell, yes. I really screwed this up this time Brass. I don't think..." She trailed off deep in thought.

Another hand joined the first, grasping her arms, then her hands. "What, hon?"

At last she looked him straight in the eyes, sharing complete honesty. "I don't think I can go on like this Brass. I need to fly away. Gotta get out of this glass-walled microscope. It's a petri dish really, that's all it is." He felt her pain and he knew she wasn't just blowing off steam. That's what scared him about the situation. It truly was now or never.

Brass's voice seemed alien to his own ears, gruff with both anger and sadness for his two friends. "Hold on Sara. I'm going to go talk to that S.o.B. and put him in his place." His grip tightened when she moved to protest. "No question, this has to end now. If it doesn't end well, then you can blame me. I'll help you relocate to some place... healthier. I won't have you waste away in front of me. Don't try to stop me, girl, cause I'm doing this for your own good. I love you Sara, I can't see you getting hurt like this forever. Pretty soon you'd hurt yourself if you thought it'd get you out of the position you're in." His voice broke on the last sentence and Brass looked away, roughly pawing at "something in his eye."

Daring move, daring move Brass you old dog! You did it! You finally said it! ... Now why does my heart ache so bad?

Another train of thought blazed on beside his.

He's right. I'm verging on ... the unthinkable. That'd get Grissom wouldn't it? My note would say "Ha, you left me and I died, doesn't this make you feel bad?" or something to that effect. Make him eat his words. Make him kiss my ass. All in the same breath.

Sara nodded without thinking. "Okay Brass. Go for it, if that's what you want to do. But, if this doesn't work out, I'm going to need you more than ever."

"Understood. Eat your vegeburger, girl, it's getting cold." He pushed the box towards her and stalked off, following the same path down the corridor as the last person to exit the room. Yet again she let her eyes follow his back, unbidden, resting her tattered hopes on his broad shoulders.

As he disappeared round that same corner, Sara focused on the white box in front of her. Sniffing its contents with disdain, she nudged it away from her, no longer hungry.

TBC...

Author's Note: Moving towards resolution! Will Brass talk Grissom into being not-so-grumpy? Will Brass just punch that mug out? Will Brass just holler at Grissom and take Sara with him? Read Chapter 6 to find out!!!!! (hehehe) Please R&R!