Disclaimer: Same as always.

Author's Notes: Sorry this took awhile for me to get out, and for those who appreciate the Nick and Catherine/Warrick storylines, I apologize in advance. The Greg/Sara bit took up more time to write than I thought it would, and as a result, the others are mostly pushed off until the next chapter. Also, pertaining to the Nick/Sara/Greg bit, I know a lot of people didn't want Greg and Sara to be paired, but that's how it's going to be for now. I don't know what's going to happen in the end, since my storyline and goals for this are constantly changing. Hope you'll stick with me anyway though.

I am planning on having another chapter up by weekend, although I can't swear to it. We lost three people in my office this week, and the remainder of us are working tons of O/T to make up for it. Good for my paycheck, bad for my spare time.

This one goes to Emmithar, because she inspired me with her own wonderful stories, giving me the desire to write when I was contemplating giving up on this story. You're the best, girl.

Jenny

Five:

Grissom sat in his office, opera music playing quietly as he reviewed performance review paperwork for each of his employees. They had done evaluations a few weeks prior, but with a new sheriff always came new paperwork, so in addition to a basic yearly review, they were now required to do an in-depth analysis of each CSI.

In the expandable brown folder the sheriff had sent over sat 7 manilla folders, labeled 'Brown, Warrick', 'Sanders, Greg', 'Sidle, Sara', 'Stokes, Nicholas', 'Willows, Catherine', 'Shift Three-Las Vegas Crime Lab', and 'Las Vegas, Nevada Crime Lab Stats'.

Each of his employee's folders contained a data sheet with an average of total cases worked, total cases solved, total cases unsolved, total cases open, and total incidents since employment. Each folder also contained a write up of any 'incident', including work-related injuries, extended leave of absences, reprimands, and various other 'out of the norm' disturbances. Every employee evaluation sheet was clipped to the other side of the folder, with a graph showing rates of change for each worker.

The folder pertaining to the Graveyard Shift was a basic recap, with statistics on the entire shift, any disturbances they've had over the last year, their overall performance as a group. The last folder had the entire crime lab's statistics, with a chart to compare graveyard's shift to day and swing shifts.

As a whole, the project was giving him a migraine. He had excellent workers with excellent solve rates. Two of his CSI's had the highest solve rates in the lab, Warrick and Sara, and Catherine was tied for third place with a long-time veteran of days. They had very little case-related accidents, although Sara and Catherine's car accident had a 17 page report, as well as the shooting several months back involving Sara, Greg, and a murder suspect, which had a 25 page report.

Grissom hated when people disrespected his CSI's. He knew they all worked hard to accomplish the high solve rates they had achieved, and with the occasional accident (which was less than most labs in the country) he felt they were all working hard and doing their jobs well. Of course, the new sheriff didn't know his employees as well as Grissom did, even as well as the sheriff's in the past had known them. To the new sheriff, they were a liability. While Grissom definitely didn't agree, he could see how their major incidents could implicate those accusations.

If there was one thing Grissom hated about being a supervisor, it was the paperwork. Meetings were a close second, followed closely by undeserved discipline. All of these paled in comparison to politics, though, which was exactly what this project amounted to. He was supposed to review these files, fill out a questionnaire on each employee with appropriate training/action/discipline for any problem areas he found and get them to sign a paper agreeing that what he determined was true and appropriate. Early next week all supervisors were going to have a meeting to discuss their findings, and by the end of next week, a meeting with all supervisors and all CSI's would be held to address common problems with the lab as a whole. Ultimately, he knew the goal of this project was to eliminate a few CSI's from the budget, leaving room for either the sheriff to bring in some of his own people or for the sheriff to spend money elsewhere. He was not looking forward to this project in the least, and it seemed like the longer he put it off, the worse it seemed to be when he next looked at it.

His shift's stats were consistently high, they had the highest solve rate, the highest amount of days and hours worked, the highest number of cases worked. With those highs came highest incident rate. He knew that the few major accidents on his shift weighed a lot heavier than the more numerous, yet more minor, day and swing shift incidents. He also knew this was going to come into play during their meeting, and he was totally unprepared about how to defend himself on it. Nothing that had happened was his fault. Catherine and Sara's car accident? Unpreventable. The hotel shooting? Sara and Greg both followed protocol for that type of situation.

Then there was the issue of Catherine and Warrick's living arrangements. Thinking about that caused Grissom's migraine to hit him full force. He was relieved when the buzzing of his cell phone pulled him away from his mountain of paperwork and responsibility, "Grissom."

"Gil, it's Jim. I just got a call on a hit-and-run right off the strip, possible fatality. Can you spare someone?"

Grissom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Sure, I'll get Sara and Greg out there."

"Great, I sent a couple of uniforms out there as well, I'm still tied up with Cath and Warrick at this decomp." Brass replied, "Don't work too hard."

"Very funny." Grissom said, his voice flat, "Thanks for the call."

He hung up, tiredly rubbing his eyes and pressing the speed dial number that would connect him to Sara's cell.


Warrick watched Catherine paled considerably, her hand rising shakily to her mouth as she turned away from the Jacuzzi and quietly moaned. The body, or, what was left of the body, had been removed, and all that was left was the rotting liquid the body had been stewing in. He had been proud of her so far, she had told him more than once since they had been there that she was going to be sick, but had yet to actually give in. Of course, at the time they were checking the lid of the Jacuzzi and the filters while David loaded the remains into a body bag for removal. Now, they had to remove the liquid and bring it back to the lab, something neither were looking forward to, especially since it required one of them getting inside of the Jacuzzi to reach the deep bottom.

He remembered her earlier queasiness and touched her arm gently, "Want to go interview the owners?"

"Please." Catherine gasped, rushing away from the Jacuzzi and back towards the Tahoe, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips while trying to regain her composure. She hated decomps. Once the smell entered your nostrils, it remained there for days, at least, that's how it seemed. She could now smell nothing but the putrid remains, and it wasn't helping her already queasy stomach and aching head.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shake off the general ill feeling that she was slowly becoming used to, and reopened them a few moments later to see that it hadn't made any difference. Nothing had, lately. Suddenly, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to the Anders about the body in their Jacuzzi, she wanted to do nothing more than go home and go to bed.

The ringing of her cell phone got her attention, and she answered it tiredly, "Willows."

"Catherine, it's me. We got a call on a hit-and-run, but I don't have anyone to work it. How are you and Warrick doing on your decomp?"

Catherine sighed, "Warrick's collecting the liquid from the Jacuzzi and I'm about to talk to the owners of the cabin, then we're going to be done here. We're awhile out, though, aren't Sara and Greg finished with their B&E by now?"

"They were, but I sent them on break and can't reach either of them. Start heading back, I'll have Brass bring Warrick back to the lab when he's done."

Catherine agreed and shut her phone, relieved to be escaping this crime scene. She let Brass know she was leaving and climbed into the Tahoe, setting off for what she hoped to be a less gruesome scene.


Sara picked at her vegetarian lasagna, avoiding eye contact with Greg. They had been sitting in a tense silence since arriving at the restaurant, both unsure of how to resume their previous conversation, and both unwilling to start a new one.

After a few more moments of silent deliberation on what to say, Sara said quietly, "I think we should ask Grissom for a few days of vacation so we can go away together for a weekend...not anything special, just a few days away from work, away from the city, where we can spend some quality time alone and not have to worry about any interruptions."

"That sounds great." Greg replied enthusiastically, relieved that she was starting the conversation on a positive note, "I'd love the opportunity to spend some alone time with you."

Sara nodded, taking a sip of her water and toying nervously with the napkin in her lap, "I know it's been hard for you, taking things slowly and having everything about us just, I don't know, up in the air. I'm sorry that it made you feel like I wasn't serious about us."

"I know you're serious about us." Greg replied softly, taking her hand into his and moving his chair closer to hers, "I'm the one who should be sorry, okay? I was jealous, and I know I don't have a reason to be, but I can't help the way I feel. You and Nick are so close, and I know I won't be able to change that, but he's such a great guy, and you're such a beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman...I'm just worried that one day you're going to wake up and wonder how the hell you ended up with a goofy smart-aleck like me. I don't want to lose you."

Sara sighed, squeezing his hand, "Pushing me away isn't the way to keep me, Greg. I'm yours, you've already won me, I know who you are, I know your bad habits, I know what I'm doing, you're stuck with me. I may not be the best at relationships, but I'm not going to just leave you hanging so I can go be with Nicky. He's my friend, Greg. Maybe at one point I wanted something more, but I'm with you. I chose to be with you. You don't have anything to be jealous of."

"I really wanted to go to the movies with you the other night," Greg said with a sheepish grin, "When I was in high school, I never went on a date to the movies. The girl I was kinda seeing would always want to go to the mall, or to the bowling alley with friends, I never really went out somewhere private...well, theaters aren't private, but somewhere dark."

Sara rolled her eyes, "In other words, you were looking forward to making out in the back of the theater?"

"That wasn't what I was getting at." Greg said, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment, "I just get so tired of doing things as a group. When we go out to eat it's always with people from work, when we do anything it's always with other people. It's nice to have something for just the two of us, not at our apartments, where we don't have to worry about people seeing us alone together."

Sara nodded, wrapping an arm around him and leaning against him in an uncharacteristic public display of affection, "It won't be for too much longer, we're going to tell people soon. It's only a matter of time before they all figure it out anyway, Greg. I just want to make sure...I don't know..."

"I know what you mean. While we're serious, we want to be serious before we let everyone know." Greg supplemented, his hand on her knee, "Sara, I really like you."

"I really like you too." Sara replied, her meal forgotten as her leg tingled from his touch, forming a slight blush on her cheeks, "Maybe we're ready for a little bit more."

Greg leaned over, his lips meeting hers and his tongue gently caressing her soft mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. Sara pulled away slightly, blushing furiously, "Greg!" She hissed softly, "Not here."

"That was the point of going to eat somewhere people at work don't normally visit." Greg pointed out, his breathing slightly heavier as his hand trailed a little farther up her skirt, "You're so beautiful."

Sara allowed their lips to briefly meet, but then pulled away again, "Greg, I can't, not here. I'm sorry."

Mistaking Greg's hurt look as one of anger, Sara pushed her chair away and threw a couple of bills on the table to pay for her meal, making her way towards the exit, Greg only a few steps behind her as she exited the restaurant.

"Sara, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you!" Greg exclaimed, grabbing her arm, "Sara, talk to me!"

Sara shook her head, "I can't, Greg! I don't feel comfortable doing that, this, in public. You know I'm a private person, I can't just make out with you in front of everyone in the restaurant! I'm sorry, I know this is driving you crazy, but you've got to know that it makes me uncomfortable when we get to that point." She jerked her arm away angrily, fighting tears. She wasn't sure why this bothered her so badly, she really liked Greg, she wanted to be intimate with him, but something about the way it always seemed to happen made her feel so uncomfortable, leaving her wanting to hide from Greg, and the rest of the world, under the table.

"Sara, that's the problem, we are never able to get to that point. I think that's the most physical contact I've had with you all month." Greg pointed out, "I don't want to be with you for sex, Sara, and I can deal with not touching you in any way you feel weird doing, but come on, we're dating Sara, let me at least kiss you."

Sara spun around to face him, her eyes wide and hardening slowly with anger, "Why is this so important to you? What does groping me in public and kissing me so, so...passionately...have to do with anything? Why can't you just want to talk to me, hang out with me, kiss me in the privacy of my own apartment? Why here? Why now?"

"Are you ashamed of me? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Is that the real reason we're not telling people? Do you not want to be dating me? Are you just brushing me off and hoping I'll break it off so you don't have to be the bad guy? What is it Sara?" Although he tried to seem angry, he couldn't hide the hurt in his voice, and the more his own words sank in, the closer he came to tears himself, matching the ones shining in Sara's eyes, "What is it? Why do you do this to me?"

Sara shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, "It's not that, Greg. I'm never embarrassed by you, I could never be. I like you, I want to be with you, I've told you that over and over again."

"What is it then, Sara? It seems like as time goes on I'm less of a boyfriend and more like your best friend. If you want to just be close friends, I need to know. It's not fair to lead me on, dangling the idea of romance in front of me but never letting me have it. It's wrong, Sara. I need to know where you stand."

Sara shivered, despite the warm air, and then sighed dejectedly, "I don't just want to be friends...you are my best friend, though, Greg. It's hard to think about doing other things with you, even though I want to. It is just taking some time to adjust...I'm not leading you on, I swear, I really do care about you, more than any other friend I have. It's just...hard."

"Then don't think, just do it." Greg said, his voice deep with emotion as he pulled her close to him, "Just act on impulse, I know you can do it, you don't have to plan everything, you know."

Sara sighed, pulling away, "I don't just act, Greg, and you know that. I'm a thinker, I need to know that whatever I do will be the right decision. I can't do this right now, okay? After shift, we'll go back to my place and we'll hash this all out. We really should get back to the lab."

"Screw the lab, Sara!" Greg shouted, not embarrassed in the slightest as the other people on the street gave him a strange look, "For once, just let it be about us! You and me! Not Grissom, not Nick, not work, not anything else, just us! Damn it, Sara, just let me know where we stand, that's all I'm asking."

Sara turned to face him, tears in her eyes, "I think I'm falling in love with you, okay? I'm having all of these mixed up feelings and I can't even label them all, and I want you more than you can ever imagine! And I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it always does. And since I care about you more than any other man I've dated, I know it's going to be major, and I can't take being hurt again or even imagining hurting you in any way. So excuse me if I'm not being the perfect girl, but I'm scared, I'm worried, and I'm trying to protect the both of us."

She turned away again, her breathing ragged as she tried to stop the tears which were now flowing. She couldn't get into this here, her thoughts and feelings were too private to share with the strangers passing by. Panic filled her chest and she started to walk away from Greg, muttering, "I just can't do this right now."

Greg watched as she began to walk away, sadness filling his own heart, and he knew they couldn't end their conversation on these terms. If it meant they spent the rest of their shift locked in his car, yelling at each other, it would be an improvement over tense silence, and at least they'd get somewhere.

He really didn't like to make her mad, and it wasn't like he was going out of his way trying to. He wanted her to know he wasn't some horny little kid, that he just wanted a serious, intimate relationship, and although he knew she had issues with the intimacy part of the deal, he couldn't help but feel upset when she put a stop to the kisses and touching. He wasn't even angry, just sad that she didn't trust him enough, if it was even that, to let him in. He wanted to understand, so badly, but it seemed like with every step forward they took, they immediately took two giant leaps back. If he didn't care for her so much, he would have abandoned the pursuit months ago. Sara, though, was worth the wait.

He noticed that every time he sped up, so did she, and he was so focused on catching up with her that he didn't notice the blue car turning onto the road until it was almost too late. He instantly quickened his pace, calling out her name loudly as he reached her, trying to push her out of harm's way. He was just a moment too late as the brakes screeched loudly, the blue car colliding with both of them, then speeding away as they hit the pavement, each with a sickening thud.

The last thing Greg remembered as darkness clouded his vision was how eerily quiet the street was, and how unusual it was for Vegas to be quiet at any time, especially during the nighttime hours.

TBC