"My God, Sara," Greg said breathlessly as Sara walked out of the locker room in a tight, strapless red dress that barely grazed the top of her knees. I had to admit that I was a little taken aback by her provocative attire. I couldn't ever remember Sara Sidle ever wearing anything that feminine and sexy.
"Greg, can you help me put my necklace on? I can't get the clasp to open," Sara asked as she approached the bench where Greg was actively sorting through the contents of a vacuum cleaner bag.
Sara gathered up all her loose waves as Greg fastened the gold necklace around her neck. She turned and smiled. Greg motioned for her to wipe her front teeth off; there was a little lipstick on them. Sara nervously wiped her teeth off.
"Do I look okay?" Sara asked nervously. She looked so nervous that it made me wonder exactly who the guy was; it made me wonder if he was really worth coming in for a swing shift instead of a nightshift.
"Fabulous, Sar. Vartan is a lucky man," Greg replied as Sara continued to straight ten out her hair.
"Vartan? I thought he was married?" I asked. Sara snapped around surprised; she must not have noticed that I was two work benches over from Greg.
"Was married is the operative phrase. He's been divorced for about two years," Sara replied.
"Good for you, Sara," I replied. It was good to see her finally getting her life together. I knew that she hadn't dated much since Hank; I knew she dated even less after Grissom. I couldn't remember the last time that Sara looked so put together.
"He's a nice guy," Sara replied as a blush creeped into her cheeks.
"I know I'm a nice guy. Let's hit the road, gorgeous," Vartan said as he walked into the room and took Sara by the arm.
"Make sure to have her home at a reasonable time," Greg said before they left the room. He might have actually meant it. I knew he was fiercely protective of Sara. He always had been. Sara returned his concern with an embarrassed gaze.
"I promise I won't do anything you wouldn't do, Sanders," Vartan replied as they left the room. Greg shook his head; obviously, there wasn't much that Greg wouldn't do.
We went back to work in silence. I was working on finding fibers on a bed sheet. Greg was picking through a vacuum cleaner bag that might hold the only evidence in his case.
The lab had been remarkably quiet in the last few days. Catherine kept to herself. She began working most of her cases solo. She always had me paired with Warrick. The pairing was becoming a little uncomfortable because I began to realize that somewhere along the way I lost track of who Warrick was. Our conversations were terse at best. His life was headed in the direction of Mia; my life seemed to be headed in the direction of peacekeeper.
I watched Warrick and Mia talk several times. The body language screamed that this was more than another one of his girlfriends. It was the first time that I ever remember Warrick being serious about anyone. I wondered why it seemed to be so easy for him and Sara; they found companionship right under their noses.
"Why was Sara doing dressed up like a slut?" Catherine whispered as she walked up to my work bench. I guessed that she probably didn't want Greg to hear her spin on Sara's relationship with Vartan.
"She was going out on a date," I replied calmly. I was mentally willing her to get as far away from me as possible. I wasn't about to get involved in the war that was brewing below the surface.
"She looked more liked a low-class tramp," Catherine said a little bit louder.
"I'm not deaf," Greg replied. His words were so sharp that I'm sure he had a lot more to say. I'm sure it was something nasty about Catherine's past as a stripper.
"I never said you were," Catherine snipped back.
"What's going on now?" Grissom asked. His voice was tired; his voice was reminiscent of when my father would walk in on my mother and one of my sisters arguing. They argued about so much. The worst arguments were when my oldest sister, Veronica, was converting to Judaism for her fiancé, Brecken. My mother said all sorts of rotten things about her going to hell for turning her back on the Protestant religion. My father quickly got sick of the arguing; his voice sounded tired just like Grissom's did.
"Catherine has a lot to say about Sara's attire," Greg said innocently. He pretended as though he was still innocent. Nothing could be further from the truth lately.
"I don't appreciate Sara walking through the lab looking like a tramp," Catherine snipped at Grissom.
"She looked beautiful, Catherine. It isn't my place to tell her how to dress," Grissom replied in the same tired voice.
"You see everything she does through rose colored glasses, Gil," Catherine replied.
"She came in to work early, so she could have the evening off. I approved it. When Sara is off the clock, she can dress any way that she wants to," Grissom replied rather calmly.
"Don't look at me like that," Catherine replied. Her voice was elevating in pitch and octave.
"What?" Grissom asked.
"Don't look at me like I'm some kind of whore," Catherine yelled at him.
"I didn't . . . nevermind. Think what you want, Catherine. Greg, tell me about what you found," Grissom said as he turned away from the red-head, who obviously was not done with her tirade.
"I will not nevermind," Catherine replied.
"Kids, could you try to get along," Ecklie said as he walked into lab, "Who worked the Wentworth case last week? There's been a homicide in Henderson that I guess looks the same as that scene."
"I worked it with Vartan," Catherine said as an evil grin spread across her face.
"You're on it," Ecklie said as he slammed a folder on the counter by the door, "You will not call Vartan in, Catherine. Sara busted her ass this afternoon to get the evening off to go to the policemen's ball with Vartan. She also did you a huge favor by inventorying the swing shift's kits and vests."
"That little bitch," Catherine swore under her breath, "I can't believe she has Ecklie eating right out of her hand."
Catherine neglected to remember that just a few months ago she was doing everything possible to manipulate Ecklie. If I remembered correctly, Catherine would have done just about anything to prove that she was a better manager than Grissom. That included playing politics with Ecklie to the hilt.
I went back to silently ignoring the rest of the world. I was thankful that my vacation time was coming up. I was hoping to come back refreshed. I was hoping to come back to the peaceful lab of days long gone.