Chapter Seventeen: False Assumptions

Greg was halfway up the hill when the door to the cabin flew open, slamming shut only a few seconds later. Coming to a stop, Greg watched as Jim made his way down the hill, hands in his pocket and head to the ground, his steps heavy. Randolph came up behind him, shaking his head.

"You okay Jim?" Randolph asked, stepping back to let the detective pass.

"Wonderful," was all the response he received.

Greg watched as Randolph fell in step next to the detective, walking with back down the hillside. Turning his attention back towards the cabin, Greg bit his lip as he took a few more steps up the slope. He had been so sure…

Shaking his head Greg turned around, walking back down the path. Randolph and Neff were talking only a few feet away, joining up with Stiles. Greg made sure to avoid them, taking the path that led around the far side of town. He didn't want to admit what he had assumed; it was unheard of.

Time passed, only to cause him to worry even more. By the time he returned to the cabin the light was dwindling, and he was hopeful of what he would find. But it didn't strike him as odd to find it in the same state as he left it this morning. Pacing back and forth, Greg thought about it several times, reconsidering several different times, before turning towards the door again.

He was nearly there when it opened, a very tired looking Sara came trudging through the door, shutting it behind her.

"Sara?" Greg muttered, disbelief coursing through him.

"Hey," she said softly, pulling off the stocking cap as she shook her head, using a hand to smooth out her hair.

"Where have you been?" Greg asked, more angry now than he was worried.

"Out," Sara told him simply, not even responding to his tone as she took off her coat, hanging it up next to his. She stomped the excess snow from her boots before reaching down to loosen the laces.

"Out where?" Greg demanded, "I've been looking for you all day."

Sara glanced up at him with a frown, balancing on one leg as she worked to get her boot off. "I don't have to tell you everything Greg," she informed him.

"Something at least would be nice," Greg told her, leaning against the wall next to her, folding his arms.

"I left you a note," she responded, raising an eyebrow, finally pulling one boot off. The one thing she hated about these boots, they were so hard to get off.

"A really vague note, yes," he pointed out. "I was worried out of my mind."

"I'm touched," Sara mouthed sarcastically, her voice flattening "Really, it's not that big of a deal."

"Sara, I asked everyone if they had seen you, no one had. What was I supposed to think?"

Her gaze snapped up at him, astonishment lining her features. "You have the entire town watching me?"

"It's not like I told them to stalk you," Greg reminded her, "I just asked around. What exactly would you do?" he wondered.

"I would just wait," she told him, moving to sit down on the couch as she worked on her last boot.

"All day?"

Sara nodded shortly, "Yes, all day. Give me some credit Greg, I can take care of myself you know."

Greg shook his head, "Fine, I'm sorry I worried about you. Happy now?" he turned on his heel, making his way to the only part of the cabin where he could actually get away for a few minutes; the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him, only to hear Sara groan loudly a few moments later.

"You are so difficult sometimes," she stressed.

Greg opened the door, anticipating a jibe. "Just for your information, you're not exactly a picnic either."

Sara shook her head from the couch, "Don't start Greg," she said quietly.

He frowned, leaning against the doorframe. Neither said anything for a minute, then Greg straightened up. "I'm going to bed now," he said simply, making his way over to the bed. He slid easily under the covers, not bother to change, facing the wall. He wasn't sure how long he was there, but was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt the bed move as Sara sat down on the edge.

She rubbed his shoulder gently, running her hand down the length of his arm. "Let's not fight Greg," she whispered, leaning down to give him a small peck on the cheek.

Greg didn't say anything, didn't move at all, pretending to be asleep. He didn't want to be mad at her, but he didn't want to apologize either. He still felt strongly that he was right, and pointing that out to her would only make things worse. It was best to avoid all conversation.

"Maybe I should have left a better note," she continued softly, "I really didn't think about it. I just needed some time to myself, think a few things over. I didn't mean to make you worry."

Greg sighed, already knowing that she knew he was awake. He felt her pull away some as he rolled over on to his back, his bandaged hand resting on his stomach, the other holding her hand lightly.

"Maybe I was being a jerk," he suggested, watching her. He didn't want to make things worse.

She laughed, making him smile some. Her laugh always seemed to do that. "Listen to you, do you always think everything is your fault?" she wondered.

Greg shrugged, his gaze turning up towards the ceiling. It was quiet for several minutes again; Greg had no answer for her. She scooted back some, swinging her legs on top of the bed so that they were next to his head. He scrunched his nose, turning away. "Your feet stink," he teased, throwing a pillow over them.

"Thanks," she remarked, shaking her head. She folded her arms on top of her knees, leaning forward to see him better. He had turned his head so that it was resting on top of the pillow that was covering her feet.

"We have class tomorrow," she remarked after a while, watching him still.

Greg frowned, sitting up so that they were side by side now. "You're kidding," he stated, "The cabin was blown up, not to mention it's an active crime scene. We can't work it anymore."

"We're supposed to hook up with some pair from California I guess. Stiles told me earlier this morning. All we have to do is observe, so it'll be an easy day."

Greg shook his head, "We should get the day off," he declared, "Taken in everything that's happened."

Sara laughed, nodding. "I agree, but still, I don't want to talk with Ecklie."

Greg nodded rolling his eyes. Sara laughed again, quieting down after a short moment. "I heard them talking earlier," she started, watching his expression, "Stiles, Neff and Randolph. They want to cancel the convention, send everyone home. At least Randolph does. Neff doesn't think anyone else is in danger, and Stiles doesn't want to waste the money."

"How thoughtful," Greg commented, frowning.

"Did you know that Tom help set this thing up?" Sara asked him.

Greg raised an eyebrow, "Tom…you mean our csi Tom?"

Sara nodded, "I don't know if he attended, or is attending the convention, but he helped fund it."

"Then they just happen to call him in?" Greg wondered.

Sara shrugged, "I thought it sounded funny as well, but after thinking about it, I suppose it's not so odd. He knows the place fairly well, and knows the functioning, has access to all the records...who better to send in?"

Greg nodded, seeing her point. "I guess that makes sense."

She gave him a small smile, reaching over to pat his leg. "Well, go change and let's head to bed. Class starts early."

"This is fine," Greg said, glancing down at his sweater and jeans that he was still in. "What's wrong with it?"

"You are not going to curl up to me wearing that," she informed him, laughing at the pouting look he gave her. "Go change."

"Fine," Greg finally relented after her light prompting. "Only because you insist," he added, sliding off the edge.

Groaning, Greg lifted his head, glancing at the clock as another series of knocks echoed through the cabin. It was only three in the morning, and he couldn't figure out for the life of him who exactly wanted them this early. Closing his eyes he tried to will the incessant knocking to stop, but with no such luck he knew he would have to get up.

Pushing himself up, he pulled away from Sara, moving over her carefully as to not wake her up as he stumbled in the dark, reaching for the lamp to allow some light in order to see. Stretching he made his way to the door, opening it after several long moments of trying to move the lock. A cold blast of air hit him when he swung it open, leaving him shivering as he peered out into the dark.

"Randolph?" Greg asked, shaking his head in amusement. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

The older man rolled his eyes, "Don't even get me started, I have this strange feeling that I don't get any sleep anymore." He laughed bitterly, pausing a moment before changing his tone. "There is a change of plans tomorrow. Instead of going to class the both of you need to meet me down at the Town House at ten. We need to head into Portland, the crime lab wants to get your statements."

Greg frowned, closing the door a little in a feeble attempt to block out the chill. "We already gave them our statements, what more do they want?"

Randolph only shrugged, "Don't shoot the messenger," he told him, "Just make sure to get down there on time, it'll take about an hour to get there, due to road conditions."

Greg nodded, watching him, "And you couldn't tell us when we were awake?"

"I wanted to let you know you didn't have to get up so early," Randolph confessed.

Greg raised an eyebrow, as if he were thinking. "So, you wake me up at three, to let me know I don't have to wake up until nine?" Greg nodded to himself when the detective didn't respond. "Okay…see you later today then."

Greg shut the door as he left, double checking to make certain the door was indeed locked as he made his way back to the bed, climbing back over Sara and under the covers. He stopped though when she spoke up.

"Who was it?"

Greg frowned, still halfway in a sitting position. "You were already awake and you made me answer the door?" he asked, somewhat amused.

"I didn't want to get up," Sara confessed, her voice the only thing that convinced him that she was indeed awake. She was still curled up, facing away from the wall, the covers pulled up under her chin.

"How sweet," Greg commented sarcastically, although the humor in his voice was easily heard. He pulled the covers up as he lay down, wrapping an arm around her waist as he leaned in, kissing the back of her neck.

He felt her shiver, pulling away gently. "That tickles," she mumbled, laughing softly as he did it again. "Greg, stop…" she pleaded quietly, rolling to face him. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Someone's in a good mood," Greg teased, kissing her forehead as he pushed her hair back.

She opened her eyes, watching him through narrow slits. "I'm tired," she said softly, "I haven't really slept all night, too much on my mind."

Greg nodded sympathetically, rubbing her arms. "Nightmares?" he wondered.

She gave him a small smile, shaking her head. "No, just thinking. So…who was it?"

"Randolph," Greg yawned, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers. "We get to go to Portland tomorrow. Need to be at the Town House at ten," he said with a yawn.

Sara nodded, sighing as she scooted closer to him, not willing to press matters further. Beside that factor, Greg was already asleep; it amazed her, how quickly he could drift off sometimes. Smiling lightly, she closed her eyes, her head resting against his, just listening to his soft breaths as she too finally fell into a deep slumber.

TBC