"So what you are saying is that there isn't anything going on between you and Grissom?" I asked to clarify. Sara leaned heavily against her locker. She stopped trying to conceal the tears running down her face about five minutes ago. She asked me to watch the door. Sara didn't want anyone walking in on her brief moments of anger and hurt.
"It's nothing, Nick," Sara said softly.
"I'd like to believe you, but I think the whole lab knows that he's pissed at you for putting in for a transfer to day shift," I said softly. This wasn't the first time that I had played look-out for Sara. These fights were becoming more and more common. Grissom and Sara seemed to lock horns about every case they worked together. The fights were absolutely ridiculous. They normally stemmed from Sara's desire to work in the field and Grissom's desire to keep Sara in the lab. I was stunned that Grissom would try to keep Sara from doing what she did best. It seemed stupid to keep Sara locked up in trace helping Hodges. It made me wonder what exactly was going on.
The topic was a taboo in the lab. Greg refused to talk about work with me and Warrick anymore. Rumors frequently implied that Greg was looking for employment in another city or on another shift. Catherine wasn't crazy about taking on a CSI 1, so she passed on Greg. The day shift didn't have open positions. It made me even more curious about what had changed so dramatically in the nightshift.
"You do what you have to do," Sara replied in a monotone voice that made me turn around to see if I was actually talking to Sara Sidle.
"Sar, I'm worried about you. I'm worried about what Grissom is doing to you. I want to help you," I said as I help my position by the door. I knew it wasn't safe to approach Sara until the tears had stopped. I was lucky that the tears normally stopped quickly.
"Nick, I just need a change of scenery. I need to scratch a seven year itch," Sara replied.
"Then take a vacation. You have weeks of vacation days piled up. Take a month off," I replied. Sara shook her head.
"I don't think a month off is going to fix this," Sara replied as she wiped the last of her tears from her face, "Do you want to go running this afternoon?"
"I'd rather you tell me what's been going on with you and Grissom," I challenged.
"Nick, you don't want to know," Sara replied.
"Why don't I want to know?" I asked as I approached her. She stepped back. It scared me that I had somehow managed to frighten her. "Sar, let me help you."
"Nick, there's nothing anyone can do to help me. The only thing I can do is leave," Sara replied as she tried to walk pass me. She became frustrated when I wouldn't let her. I wasn't one to become confrontational, but I didn't want her to leave. I didn't think I could live with myself if I let her walk away from. I had in no uncertain terms fallen in love with her. The more fragile she got, the more I loved her. She didn't know it, but I would have done anything she asked to help her . . . to make her better.
"Sar, don't leave because of Grissom," I pleaded. Sara smiled.
"I probably won't be leaving. Grissom isn't going to sign my transfer request," Sara said with a false smile. I could see through it the minute she plastered it on her face.
"What time this afternoon?" I asked as I finally relented.
"How about two at my apartment?" Sara offered.
"Okay, Sar. I'll see you then," I replied. I didn't know that our jog together would be the last time I saw Sara.
My sleep was fitful that morning. I kept having the same dream I always had when I heard that Sara put in a for a transfer request. It was the one where I was running through McCarren Airport trying to catch Sara before she got on a plane to God knows where. I would run through the airport until I found a woman that looked like Sara, but when she turned around it wasn't her. That's when I would wake up in a cold sweat. I knew that I was losing her. I just didn't realize that it would come sooner than I expected it to.
We ran together for nearly an hour. Sara was determined to improve her seven mile time for the marathon this year. I had to struggle to keep up with her long, quick stride. When we stopped, I was sure that I was going to have a heart attack. Sara looked as if she could have used her anger and hurt to run for another seven miles. It's what fueled her. I knew that. I knew that all she had left was anger.
"You want to get some lunch before I have to leave for work?" I asked her as we retreated into her apartment for shade and water.
"Not today. I haven't gone to bed yet," Sara replied. We continued our conversation that same way all our conversations seemed to go. I'd tease or flirt with her. She'd do the same back. She'd threaten to walk in on me while I was showering; if only she knew, that I had been waiting for her to do that for years. I didn't dare to that to her. I wasn't sure if she'd ever be receptive to the idea of being something more than my friend.
Work was the same as normal that night. In retrospect, I should have known the minute that I heard Sara called in sick that she was leaving. I just didn't think anything of it until I found her letter. Then, I felt guilty that I didn't call her . . . that I didn't beg her to stay.
"Catherine, I know it's right after shift. I know you are probably trying to get some sleep, but this is important," I said into the telephone to a very groggy Catherine. The letter Sara left me was still in my hands.
"Nick, is everything okay?" Catherine asked. The panic in my voice was enough to tip anyone off that I wasn't okay.
"I need to quit my job. I'll send you my letter of resignation, but don't expect me to be at work anymore," I said.
"Nick, what's going on? I'm not going to let you quit," Catherine said now sounding fully awake.
"It's Sara. She left," I tried to explain.
"Nick, don't waste your time chasing her," Catherine warned.
"I have to, Catherine. I have to make sure that she's okay," I replied. With that comment, I began trying to think of ways to find Sara. I had to bring her home.