Catherine watched Sara head back to her building, her head hanging a little, she looked a little sad, Catherine hoped she hadn't been too harsh with her, but it had needed to be said. Everyone except Sara had seen Gregs little black notebook at one time or another before now, but now that Sara had seen it, it was all out in the open. And they were all eager to get Sara to clue in. Greg was obviously in love, totally gone, and now that they had read that letter, they knew it was true, and they knew that Sara needed to get a move on.
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Sara walked back to her apartment, her thoughts rushing through her too quickly for her to focus on just one. She couldn't figure out how Catherine had known that it was all an act, and looking down, she realised she was in fact wearing the outfit Greg had written about. Had she done it on purpose? Was her subconscious mind that strong of an influence? Evidently she had a lot to think about. She swiped her entrance card and walked the three flights up for the third time that day, when she got to her apartment, she opened the door, and went back to her favourite place, on her couch, she looked at her watch, she had 3 hours until her shift. Lots of time to think. She lay back and tried to think, but like so many times before, she fell asleep.
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Greg lay in his apartment, his eyes red and itchy. He had lain awake all night worrying about Sara, she had seen his notebook. Someone must have told her, but whom? Probably Nick, he had always made fun of the book, or the "little diary" as he called it. How could he? They had all known that there were parts of that book nobody but Greg was meant to see. But somehow, they'd all seen it now. He didn't care if Nick or Warrick saw it, not even Grissom or Catherine, but he knew that Sara had read it now, and that was all that mattered.
He sat up; a thought hitting him like a freight train, what if Sara felt the same way? He quickly dismissed the possibility, Sara was beautiful, smart, sexy, and pretty much perfect in his eyes, why would she go for a someone like him, younger, awkward looking, and goofy. He had a feeling that this was going to make life at the lab difficult, but he wasn't sure just how difficult. He thought of her face when she had looked at him in his car, and he felt tears rushing to his eyes, he bent his head and cried until he forgot about everything. The CD that had been playing ended, but he didn't restart it, the phone rang, once, twice, three times, but he didn't answer it. He didn't care who it was, even if it was Sara, she was probably calling to reject him. And that was the last thing he needed right now.