Post-Butterflied

Disclaimer: I still don't own CSI and get no profit from writing these stories…yadda yadda yadda.

Spoilers: This story takes directly after the episode Butterflied. In fact, if you haven't seen Butterflied, you'll probably be very confused.

Chapter Two

The next day, Sara Sidle did something she had never done in her time at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. She called in sick. She wasn't physically ill, but she was definitely sick. She hadn't gotten much sleep and all she could think about was what Grissom had said at the police department. She had spent the hours normally spent on sleep seriously rethinking her career. Maybe it was time for her to move on to another crime lab in a different city. Grissom had made it clear that she had no chance with him and she knew working around a person that she loved who didn't return the feelings would only make her more and more miserable.

Sara had been relieved when it was not Grissom who answered her call. She wouldn't have known how to handle herself if he had. Instead she told the receptionist to give her supervisor the message that she would not be coming in.

The more she thought about quitting her job, the more she liked the idea. She kept thinking of more reasons not to stay, most of them related to Grissom. She couldn't stay with a supervisor she didn't get along with and she didn't want to be moved onto another shift. She despised Conrad Ecklie of the dayshift and she'd still be bound to run into Grissom no matter which shift she worked. The thought did strike her that she'd miss the rest of the graveyard shift, but the thought of getting away from Grissom was very alluring.

About an hour into the shift she should be working, Sara's phone rang. She answered it warily, hoping it was anyone other than Gil Grissom.

"Sara, hi, it's Jim Brass," she was greeted with.

"Hello," she responded in surprise. He was just about the last person she had expected to be checking up on her.

"Are you okay?" Brass asked, "when Grissom told me you called in sick, I got a little worried because you never miss work."

"I have a little flu-bug or something, I'm feeling a little crappy. I figured it would be best to just stay home instead of spreading a virus around at work," Sara half-lied. She did feel crappy, but she didn't think she had the flu.

"This little flu wouldn't have anything to do with what a certain supervisor of yours said in the interrogation room yesterday, would it?" Brass inquired.

Sara gasped, "How did you know?"

"A uniformed officer saw you come out of the viewing room. You know how gossip gets around the police department just as fast as it does the lab," Brass explained, "and I thought I saw you just sitting in your car in the parking lot, staring off into outer space."

"I guess it does have a little bit to do with that," Sara confessed.

"I was afraid of that," Brass sighed, "if I had known you were in there, I would have stopped him."

"It's okay, I'm glad I heard it," Sara said, her voice wavering.

"Sara, don't," Brass started.

"No, I am," Sara cut him off, "it's good to know how he really feels. He never even acknowledged that he had feelings for me before. Now that I know he doesn't want to pursue them, I can move on."

"I hate to see you get hurt, sweetie," Brass said slowly, "are you going to be okay?"

"I have a lot to think about, but I think I'm going to be just fine," Sara lied.

"Don't be afraid to call me, if you need anything, Sara," Brass offered emphasizing the 'anything'.

"Thanks," Sara smiled at the offer, "it's really sweet of you to be concerned about me."

"I've known for quite a while that there was something between the two of you. At times I had to restrain myself from smacking Grissom over the head at how stupid and oblivious he was," Brass told her.

Sara laughed, "I guess I'm not the only one that notices that about him then."

"Nope, but I have to be going, I'm at my latest crime scene," Brass said, "remember if you need anything, call me."

"Goodbye," Sara said.

"Bye," Brass hung up.

Sara flopped down on her couch. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with herself. She wanted desperately to put some distance between herself and Grissom, but she couldn't just walk away from Vegas. Getting a headache, Sara decided it was time to take a sleeping pill so she could go lay down and get some sleep. She knew her thoughts would keep her awake if she didn't have some help.

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Greg Sanders was unsure of himself as he stood on Sara Sidle's doorstep. The truth was, he was sort of afraid of her. He finally decided it was stupid of him to be afraid and knocked on her door. When she saw that he was bringing her some soup, she couldn't be too upset at him for finding out where she lived. A very tired and frazzled looking Sara answered the door.

"Greg?" she was confused.

"I heard you were sick and I brought you some soup," Greg said quickly.

Sara stood in awe for a moment before opening her door so he could come inside. Greg himself was surprised at the invitation to come in. He didn't think anyone had ever actually been inside Sara's apartment before. From time to time, she had gotten rides home from the other CSIs, but no one had ever been invited inside that he knew of.

"This is really sweet of you, you didn't have to do this you know," Sara smiled.

"I know, I wanted to. You don't get sick very often," Greg reminded her, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. Most people forget to eat when they are sick."

"To be honest, I haven't eaten since yesterday," Sara told him, grabbing for the soup.

"Sit down, you're the one who's sick, I think I can manage to warm this up for you," Greg said, gesturing to her couch.

Not in the mood to argue, Sara took a seat and watched as Greg went into her kitchen. A few minutes later, Greg re-emerged with a spoon and the now warm soup. Sara took a bite of the soup and found it was really good.

"Where did you get this?" Sara asked.

"I made it myself," Greg grinned.

"It's really good. I didn't know you could cook, Greg," she complimented.

"I think I can do a lot of stuff that would amaze you," Greg laughed, "I am the unending source of knowledge aren't I?"

Sara nearly spit her bite of soup out, "I wouldn't go that far. You do know a lot of weird things, but your source of knowledge is bound to have its limits."

"Yeah, you're right about that," Greg admitted, "but still, I know a lot of things you'd be surprised at."

"I'm sure you do," Sara said, "are you going to sit down or are you planning to stand there all day?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to stay or not," Greg said sheepishly as he sat across from her.

"You cared about me enough to bring me some soup, I wouldn't just kick you out Greggo," Sara smiled.

"How are you feeling?" Greg asked, suddenly remember the reason for his visit.

"Still bad, but a lot better than I felt last night when I called in," Sara said truthfully, "I may or may not be in tonight."

"Don't rush back to work, we're fine without you," Greg said, "I mean, not that I don't want you to come in. It's just, well, I got to go out on a case last night because you weren't there."

Sara laughed, "I'm already being replaced I see."

"It's not like you're never coming back, you're only missing a day or two of work," Greg said, "and I think if you had been there, I probably would have been stuck in my lab."

"I know how much you enjoy any field experience that you can get," Sara said.

"I'm looking forward to becoming a full-time CSI. I don't know if it's ever going to happen, but I'd like it," Greg told her.

"If Grissom didn't think you could be a good CSI, he wouldn't waste his time letting you do little bits of field work," Sara explained, "you just have to be patient and work your way up."

A/N: I suppose this doesn't really need to have a real title. I'm still drawing a blank on a title, so maybe it'll remain as it is. It gets the point across lol. Thanks for the reviews thus far.