It felt like hours to him before he moved again and he could've sworn his apartment was colder than it had ever been, but in reality it was a little over room temp. He ran his hands over his face and felt sweat. Like the room, it felt cold. There were goose bumps on his arms. When he finally got up, he found himself heading to the bathroom, to the shower.
It helped a bit. He felt less nauseous, but his disgust was still fresh and he didn't think he'd get rid of it anytime soon. It wouldn't let him sleep. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and his mattress was suddenly hard and uncomfortable.
After about 2 hours he finally drifted into a light sleep. His last thought had been whether or not she was drunk… she could've been. It made him think he was a total asshole, but it almost made him feel better to think she was drunk… almost.
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There was a familiar sound when he woke up. It was his cell phone buzzing against the wooden nightstand. Visibly irritated, he decided that was the most annoying sound he'd ever heard and had to restrain himself from just picking it up and whipping it against the wall. The sound of a shattering cell phone would be delightful to his ears at the moment.
Finally he reached over lazily and grabbed it off the small table. He flipped it open and heard Grissom on the other line.
"Greg, we need you at the lab now," Greg knew this was a perfect opportunity for a joke, but he wasn't in the mood. He glanced at the clock quickly. Shit shit shit, is that the time! It was half an hour after shift started. He managed to stammer,
"Uh… Grissom, I'm really sorry. My alarm didn't go off. I'll be there in a few," He was dreading going to the lab. Things with Sara would be a complete mess. That's what I get for being a damn moron with no self-control…
He grabbed some jeans and a shirt that looked remotely clean and threw them on. He hated being late. It gave people the impression that he was some incompetent kid who couldn't tell his ass from a hole in the ground. He wouldn't have minded that much if he was back in the lab, but he was supposed to be a CSI now; Mr. Professional.
He ended up getting there 45 minutes late. It was pretty good considering when he woke up. But, he didn't have time to celebrate because he had just caught a glimpse of Sara walking towards to locker room. This'll be loads of fun he thought as he tried to pretend he hadn't noticed her.
She walked up to him and stood beside him, saying nothing. He still hadn't made eye contact and he knew she could probably see that he was shaking like a leaf. She cleared her throat, but he still couldn't look at her.
"You're late,"
"I noticed…"
"Well, come on. We gotta crack this case sooner or later, and I'd prefer sooner," with that she walked out of the room, on her way to the DNA lab, presumably.
God, was she pretending like nothing had happened? Using him was one thing, but just ignoring that fact that it happened was even crueler. He inhaled shakily. He decided he'd better just keep his cool. After all, she'd been depressed lately and it wouldn't be good for her right now to just confront it right away.
He walked down the hall to the DNA lab. As he entered the room, Sara greeted him with a smile. Okay, not so depressed after all. He gave her an annoyed look but she ignored it. That, or she simply didn't care enough to notice.
"Good news. I lifted a hair off one of the victim's shirts earlier, and it's not his. It's not his brother's either. Now we just have to try and see if we can trace that cement dust back to somewhere,"
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"That went absolutely nowhere," said Sara glumly, "The type of cement used was Portland cement which is the most widely used material in construction. It seems like this case is nothing but dead ends,"
"Maybe not. We're interviewing a possible suspect today. The parents just called and said they know somebody who might want to do this. The name is Ingrid Dax. For some odd reason, the boys thought it would be a laugh to burn down her house a few weeks back and the Ayers admitted they paid her off not to say anything to the cops. This could've been a revenge killing. They're bringing her in right now, lucky for us."
That had to be the most he had said to her all day. He decided that this was his job, and that he should keep this professional. He'd talk to her when shift ended.
Sara was already on her way to the interrogation room, "This better lead somewhere,"
As they entered, Greg saw a tall blonde woman sitting at the table. She flashed a smile at them that that one could guess was supposed to be charming.
"Hello Ms. Dax," Sara said to her.
"Hey there" she replied, looking directly at Greg. He gave her a nod and sat down. There was a pause as they settled in.
"We're going to ask you a few questions,"
Ingrid nodded. She was facing Sara, but her eyes were still fixed on Greg. "Whatever you want,"
"Where were you two nights ago at 3AM?"
"Well, I don't know. I was probably asleep,"
"Could you try to remember?" asked Greg.
"Hmm… well, come to think of it, I was at that new bar up on Denver Drive. You know the place?"
"Yeah, I know the place. Can anyone confirm that you were there at 3AM?" he asked.
"…I was there alone. My boyfriend just broke up with me and I was kind of… drowning my sorrows,"
Sara shifted in her seat uncomfortably. It probably sounded familiar seeing as it was something she had done. Drowning her sorrows.
"And my house got burned down… it was just horrible,"
"And do you know exactly who burned down your house, Ms. Dax?" snapped Sara. Ingrid became silent. She knew who burned down her house. Saying that it was the Ayers boys would not look good for her. It was pretty stupid of her, bringing up the arson like that.
"Of course I don't know," Ingrid said tucking some of her hair behind her ear. As she did so, Greg noticed some redness on her arm.
"I see you have a rash," he said. She looked at him, confused. "Where do you work, Ms. Dax?"
"I'm in construction," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm guessing that you work with cement?"
"Well, yeah," she said leaning back in her chair.
"So… you must've had an allergic reaction to the hexavalent chromium in the Portland cement you work with," he said to her, pleased by this discovery.
She paused for a few seconds, "Wow, cute and smart," said Ingrid with a grin. Greg couldn't help but think he saw a bit of jealousy in Sara's eyes. Ingrid sat forward, "But I don't see what this has to do with the murders,"
Sara smiled at her "We never said anything about murders,"
Busted.
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The DNA from the hair on the victim's shirt matched Ingrid's DNA. She was going away for a long time. As Greg got his coat out of his locker, he was actually in a cheerful mood. The incident with Sara wasn't in his mind at all. That is, it wasn't till she walked into the room. Everything came back and his good mood was thwarted. He looked at her as she smiled at him.
"Good work," she said opening her locker. She had probably forgot all about the incident. The incident, is that what he was calling it now?
"Sara," he said, turning to her.
"What is it?" She was still sounding cheerful. He was growing very irritated. He simply looked at her half angry, half astounded that she was just ignoring everything.
He finally spoke, "What is your problem?"
Sara looked away nervously. Finally getting to you? he thought bitterly and before he could even stop himself, he was talking again.
"Seriously, what is you problem? Whether you like it or not, we did have sex. How can you just be pretending nothing happened? I just… I can't understand you. I can't understand how you could use me like that. I'm your friend and I want to support you if you're going through something, but not like this,"
He stopped and looked up at her face. She was looking in the direction of the door with an almost terrified look on her face. He followed her gaze and saw Sophia standing at the door with her arms crossed. Greg shook his head and closed his locker door noisily. He pushed past Sophia before anyone could say anything.
Sara stood behind her locker door as she heard Sophia's heels clicking on the floor, traveling towards her. The sound stopped near her, but Sara was still pretending that something in her locker was incredibly interesting. Then she heard her voice. It was cold.
"Look, I don't know all of you very well. I shouldn't be sticking my nose into other people's business. But I will say this: Greg is just about the nicest guy I've ever met. If what he's saying is true, then what you did is like kicking a puppy. You just don't do something like that,"
She heard her turn and walk away, but she stopped.
"I won't tell Grissom about this. But, whatever it is you're going through, work it out,"
With that she was gone. Sara slammed her locker shut and sat on the bench. She was genuinely surprised when she felt the tears sliding down her face.
A/N: Cyeah, I so did do research on cement. -proudly sits and gloats about how nerdily cool she is- So, alrighty. What're your thoughts on this? You know I love you, my dear sweet reviewers. –encouraging grin-
