He wasn't quite sure where their relationship was going. Every time he tried to take a step forward, she seemed to take a step back. He knew they had chemistry. Their moment in the storm drain only confirmed it. If they hadn't been interrupted, who knew where they would be now. The physical attraction was definitely there- it had always been there, and he knew full well that there was also something more. She talked to him. Not anyone else. Him. But he couldn't understand why she refused to confront that fact. He figured he'd give her time. Time to sort it out and figure out what she really wanted. He just knew that he would be waiting, like he always had been.

Warrick drank down another jelly shot, realizing that it wasn't doing its usual trick of relieving his tension.

"I'm sure she's fine." Nick said, noticing his friend's restlessness.

Greg interrupted by sliding into his seat across from them, jerking his head toward Grissom and Sara who were in some sort of intense discussion at the bar. "What do you think that's all about?"

The table turned their attention to the pair. Sara was holding herself rigidly, her arms crossed defiantly as Grissom appeared to be lecturing her about something.

"Beats me," Nick said. "To me it just looks like a case of UST."

"UST?"

"Unresolved sexual tension. I read the term online somewhere."

Greg snorted up some of the beer he had just taken a sip of. "You're joking right?"

Nick laughed and shook his head. "It's only an observation Greg. Don't go giving up your hopes yet," he said as he indicated Sara with his eyes.

Greg felt his face flush, but took another sip of his drink. "So you guys heard from Catherine yet?"

"No. We swung by her house but we didn't see her car. Who knows, maybe she's shacking up with some guy that she doesn't want us to know about. Lindsey is out of town after all."

Warrick shook his head. "No, she'd tell me."

"I don't know Warrick. Catherine is usually pretty open, but the last few guys she's been with, we've always found out after the fact. Well - I know I was kept out of the loop."

"She'd tell me." Warrick said, a little harsher than he intended. He immediately regretted it and softened his expression. "Sorry Nick. I'm just - a little wound up right now."

Sara returned from the bar with a club soda in hand. "I met my quota for the night," she said, responding to everyone's unspoken question.

"I think we all have," Grissom said, a soda in hand. "We all do have to be at work tonight, Nick's birthday withstanding. We do need to get some sleep sometime."

"Sleep sounds good," Greg said waggling his eyebrows at Sara. "Care for a nightcap at my place Sara?"

"I would, but considering I might trip on all your toys, I'd have to pass."

"But if I put them all in my toy box there's still a possibility right?"

"Quit your begging Sanders and finish your beer," Nick said laughing.

Grissom grinned at the comradery at the table. It was moments like these that were becoming few and far between these days.

After downing the last drop of their drinks, the group decided that they had better get home to at least get some sleep.

"Hey, happy birthday again Nick," Warrick said waving to him as he headed out the door with Greg and Sara in tow.

"Thanks. See ya later today bro."

Warrick found himself alone with Grissom, who reached for his pocket to withdraw some cash to pay for his tab.

"You heading back home?" Warrick asked, as he slid some of his own cash on the table.

"No. I'm going to stop by and see if Catherine's home before I do."

Warrick raised an eyebrow. "You're worried too?"

Grissom sighed. "People don't usually break habit Warrick. You know that as well as I do. I'm sure everything is ok, but it would make me feel better to see her in person."

Warrick nodded. "Give me a call if you meet with her."

Grissom smiled faintly. "I'll have her call you myself."


Sometimes the lines of friendship blurred between them, but he didn't think she realized it. Whether she was eating breakfast at his house, or chatting in his office, there were times when he felt there would be no better person to compliment him. But when he tried to cross over that invisible line of friend to lover, he always found himself being blocked. Whether it be other relationships or the fear of ruining something as enduring as their friendship, there was always something preventing him from taking that one great chance. But while he believed that there was a line to be crossed, he was almost positive that she didn't. When she had encouraged him to send flowers to Sara, it had cemented this belief. In some ways, this relieved him, for while his feelings for Sara were indeed complex, his feelings for Catherine were absolute and this scared him more than anything. Sara was safer. Sara was Sara. Sara was his last chance while Catherine used to be his only one.

Grissom drummed his fingers against his desk. Catherine's vehicle had not been in the driveway. The thought that she could be at staying over at someone's house crossed his mind. There really wasn't any reason to jump to conclusions- there was no evidence to support that she was in any danger. She hadn't been answering her cell phone, but then again, these were her two days off and she wasn't on call. If she wanted privacy with whoever she was with, she could have easily decided to ignore any and all calls.

After leaving her house, Grissom called Warrick. He could feel the younger man's worry in his voice, but he tried his best to reassure him. If anything had happened, they would have heard about it by now. Catherine was fine, she could take care of herself.

Grissom stood and brushed his worries aside. He looked down at the assignments in his hand. Now was no time for worrying. Now it was time to work.

When Greg, Grissom and Sara got out of their Tahoe, Brass was waiting for them. "About time you guys showed up. The body ain't getting any warmer,"Brass said cracking a grim smile.

"Sorry. A traffic accident kept us backed up. What have you got for us Jim?" Grissom asked as he pulled on his baseball cap.

Brass chucked his thumb toward the tall, elegant house behind him. "One 'apparent' suicide. Mr. Bryce Logan. His co-worker found him. He came over to deliver some papers from work and found the door unlocked and slightly ajar. He let himself in and found Mr. Logans sprawled out on his desk. Bullet right here," Brass said as he tapped the side of his head. "The office is on the first floor. Turn to the right when you enter the house."

Grissom nodded and looked sidelong at Greg. "Greg, you're with me. Sara, would you mind questioning the witness with Brass? Find out if he touched anything."

Grissom moved toward the condo with Greg trotting to keep up with him as he hauled the equipment case. When Grissom swung open the door to the house, Greg let out a low whistle. "I wish I could afford someplace like this with my salary."

"I thought you didn't mind the paycut?" Grissom said and Greg looked at him sheepishly.

"I don't. But sometimes I think I might later on in life."

Grissom smirked at this, but didn't say anymore as he walked into the house. Following Jim's directions, he found himself standing in front of the victim's office, the door wide open. Greg made to move past Grissom, but he held the younger man back with his arm.

"Wait, what do you see?"

Greg raised an eyebrow questioningly and Grissom sighed. "Before you enter a scene, you should analyze it like it was something under your microscope. Sometimes an overall impression can speak volumes to you."

Greg nodded and looked inside. "Well, I see a dead body."

Now it was Grissom's turn to raise an eyebrow.

Greg, feeling a little under the microscope himself, swallowed hard and tried to come up with a little more insight to the scene.

"The televison is on beside his desk, so he must have been watching something - something that possibly could have upset him."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, it's on a blue screen, which usually means the vcr connected to it is on. He was watching a videotape of something. Usually people don't watch a movie before committing suicide, so I'm assuming that whatever he had been watching could have triggered it."

Grissom nodded. "Good. Anything else?"

Greg peered into the room, dying to move past this interrogation and start finding real evidence. He looked hard around the room, scouring the room for detail. "He's obviously very into videos. That's a whole wall of them on the side there. He's also single and probably doesn't have a steady girlfriend."

"Why do you say that?" Grissom asked smiling slightly.

"This room hasn't been dusted in years. The rest of the house looked pretty spotless, but he must have a maid and she didn't touch this room. Probably kept this room under wraps because of obvious reasons." Greg pointed to the safe located in the corner of the room. "Also, no single guy has a naked woman as his computer screensaver. Well- no single guy who doesn't want to be slaughtered by his girlfriend."

Grissom nodded. "Very good Greg."

"Can I go in now?"

"You can go in now."

As Greg began taking photos of the body, Grissom walked over to the television and crouched in front of the stand it sat on. An unmarked tape was sitting in the vcr, ejected. Grissom pushed the tape in.

"Hey Grissom, how likely is it that a left-handed person shot himself in the right temple?"

"Not very likely Greg why?"

Greg stood up from his kneeled position and picked up a notepad that had been laying across the desk. "Because I know a lefty's handwriting when I see one. My ex-girlfriend wrote with this slant," he said as he faced it in Grissom's direction.

"Nice observation Greg," Grissom said as he hit play on the vcr and stood back, watching the display on the screen. Greg walked up behind him and began watching as well.

"He also was into amateur porn. That woman is smoking." Greg said, gawking.

"She's also very married," Grissom said tilting his head sideways. "She's wearing her wedding band."

"And that's about it," Greg said with a grin.

"I think we may have a motive," Grissom said as he stopped the video despite Greg's protests. He turned off the vcr and reached to turn off the tv when something onscreen caught his attention, something that warrented more attention than the corpse in the room.

"Grissom- what's wrong? You recognize that guy?" Greg asked, indicating the man on television. His eyes widenened slightly. "Hey wait - that's the guy from the Julie Water's case last year right?"

"Yes," Grissom said, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. "Howard Dulhomme."