... part 1, chapter 2 ...

Grissom's heart pounded in his chest as Catherine fiddled with the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock Sara's door. She found the match on her third try.

Catherine turned to him, and motioned for him to stay put. "Let me just check it out first, okay?"

Grissom nodded, and turned away. If something has happened to her…

Catherine walked inside the apartment, and Grissom heard her gasp sharply. Panic rose, only to be immediately squelched as Catherine said, "It's okay, Gil. She isn't here. Nothing is here."

Grissom walked into the apartment, and stopped dead cold two steps past the doorway.

Everything was gone. Everything. Her furniture, her photos on the walls, everything. Even the familiar scent of her was fading, leaving only an odor of pine cleaner and the slightly stuffy smell of uninhabited space.

Catherine was over near Sara's kitchen, looking around.

"Looks like she left some things behind," Catherine said solemnly.

Grissom walked over to her and noticed a plant and a book left on the countertop next to the stove. He walked into the kitchen to get a closer look, a slow, sinking feeling in his stomach.

Grissom moved the plant to read the title of the textbook. Entomology For The Forensic Scientist.

This was his gift. He gave her this. And the plant was most likely his plant. He poked his finger into the potting soil. It needed water.

Catherine was wandering around in Sara's bedroom. He heard her voice echo in the small, empty space.

"There's nothing in here, either, Gil. Looks like she's packed up and moved on."

Grissom picked up the book, tucking it under his arm, and hefted the plant with the other.

"Let's go, Catherine," he called quietly.

Catherine walked out of the bedroom and eyed him strangely when she saw what he was holding.

"You're taking that stuff?"

Grissom nodded. "I paid for it."

Catherine blinked, understanding. "Ah… the plant. I didn't know about the book though…"

Grissom looked away from her, slightly embarrassed. Catherine came up behind him, and touched him lightly on his arm.

"Hey, look. We'll ask around at work. Maybe somebody knows what happened, okay?"

Grissom nodded, and followed her as she walked to the door. She pulled the keys from her jacket pocket, and glanced at him, waiting for him to leave. She was giving him time, if he needed it.

Grissom looked back, knowing he would never see this apartment again. He turned quickly and walked out the door.

Catherine locked up behind him, and once downstairs, she replaced the set of master keys. She righted the plastic plant in the main hallway, but it had clearly seen better days.

Grissom followed Catherine as she threw the broken plastic leaves in the garbage and walked out the door.

They drove back to his home in silence.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Gil placed the plant on his kitchen countertop along with the textbook. He went to his cabinets and got a large glass. After letting the water run for a while, to come up to a lukewarm temperature, he filled the glass and gave the plant a long needed drink. The plant didn't thank him for his kindness, but caring for it made Gil feel a little better.

He sighed. Sara was gone. He didn't know how she did it, but she clearly had moved on, taking everything with her, except his gifts. Ouch.

Realistically, she only had two days to remove everything from her apartment, unless she had done it during the daytime, and still worked at night.

He supposed that movers could have helped in this regard. She must have hired them to help her.

But where had she moved to? Where had she gone?

Gil felt exhausted and emotionally drained. He carried the plant into the bedroom, and placed it on his bureau, where it would get some of the midday sun. He took of his jeans and his shirt, folding them neatly and laying them on a chair in the corner. His socks he threw into the hamper. Clad only in his boxers, he lifted his sheets and crawled into bed, remembering to set the alarm on his clock radio.

As he drifted off to sleep, he felt hollow, disconnected from himself.

Where had she gone? And why?

oooooooooooooooooooooo

That night at the lab, Grissom had a package on his desk – a large orange envelope with a UPS label. Inside he found Sara's cell phone and her badge. The phone made sense; it was the property of the crime lab. However, the badge was meant to be hers until she fully resigned.

Grissom wondered why she hadn't done this outright. Why a leave of absence? Why not quit?

Perhaps she didn't want to stick it out for the expected two weeks after she gave notice. He suspected Sara really didn't want anyone to know she was leaving. He could relate to this, as he didn't want a big dog and pony show when he finally left this job. He planned to just quietly disappear.

Still, rationalizing her actions didn't take away the hurt.

After assignments, he held Greg back.

"Greg, I'm sure you are aware that Sara is on a leave of absence."

Greg nodded, but said nothing.

"Look… do you know where she went?"

"She wouldn't tell me. I asked, but she said she'd call me when she was settled. That's all she said."

Greg frowned, and Grissom sensed he wasn't the only one that was personally affected by Sara's departure.

"I haven't heard from her," Greg said dully. "I haven't heard from her at all."

Grissom prodded Greg further. "Do you know why she felt she had to leave, Greg? Did she say why?"

"No," he replied. "And that's what is really strange about it. She told me when she was leaving shift on Monday that she wasn't coming back to the lab again. That she was taking a leave of absence, and that I shouldn't worry because I'd do fine on my own. I was totally shocked. I tried to convince her to stay, but she was serious, and told me that it was already a done deal. She said Ecklie had already approved it. She even took her stuff from her locker. I watched her do it. She put it in a plastic bag and slung her coat over it, so nobody would know. I asked her where she was going, and she didn't answer. She said 'I just need to get away...' I asked her why, and she didn't say anything… whatever it was – it made her sad. I'm sure of it."

Greg paused, unsure of whether or not to continue. Grissom tried to look encouraging.

"She… told me not to tell to you, or anyone. She said she didn't want some emotional farewell, and she didn't want everyone asking her questions. And then she left."

Grissom was pensive, absorbing this information. He must have gotten lost in thought, because when he looked up to speak to Greg again… Greg was gone.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

A week had passed. Grissom began to withdraw into himself, as the reality of No Sara became all too apparent.

He would see Sara in the halls, but… it wasn't her. It was always someone else.

He'd see her in the Yukon next to Greg, as it pulled up to a crime scene, but then he'd blink, and the hair color would change from brunette to blonde and Sofia would be smiling at him instead.

He knew he wasn't handling the loss of Sara very well. However, he didn't know what the hell to do about it.

A knock on his office doorway brought him out of his fog. He seemed to be zoning out a lot lately, too.

"Hey." It was Catherine.

"Hey, Cath."

"I wanted to see how you were doing. I talked with Nick and Warrick and they both claimed to know nothing about Sara leaving."

"I suspected as much," Grissom said plaintively.

"They miss her, too. Nick more than Warrick. How's Greg holding up? He and Sara have been attached at the hip for the past eight months."

"Greg'll be fine."

Catherine sighed slightly and settled into a chair.

"How about you…" she asked quietly.

Grissom was silent for a minute before answering, "I'm fine."

"You know, we can find out where she is. Nick is the one who originally suggested it, but I told him to hold off until I talked to you." Catherine paused, and looked at him pointedly. "We could run a trace on her."

"No we can't, Cath. We have no warrant and no reason to invade her privacy."

"But Gil, think of it. We can see where she is. Credit card transactions, ATM withdrawals, job applications, all that. If she has a new apartment, they'll have to run her credit. That'll show up in her credit report."

"Catherine. It's unethical."

"So? Who's going to know? We run these reports all the time. What's one more?"

Catherine grinned at him sneakily, and Grissom mentally groaned. Catherine wanted to snoop into Sara's whereabouts.

Grissom's resolve was wavering. It wasn't ethical, and he wasn't sure whether it was legal. He'd never considered using the lab's resources to find Sara. Well, not really.

"C'mon … bend a few rules for once. It's for a good cause. Call it an exercise in closure. We all want to know."

Grissom sighed, not in agreement, but in frustration.

Catherine pounced on his lack of a definitive 'no' and said, "Good! Let's go."

"Catherine! That was not a 'Yes'! I do not agree with this!" Grissom stated harshly.

"Okay, fine. But I do. You can be an innocent bystander."

Grissom sighed again, and followed Catherine to the computers. A part of him felt like he was in tenth grade again, playing hookey for the first time. I'm too old for this.

Catherine thrived on bending the rules to fit her whim, so she was in her element as she logged on to the computer. Grissom had seen her like this before at crime scenes; she lived for the thrill.

Grissom preferred the science, but a scientist's curiosity kept his eyes glued to the screen as Catherine typed "Sara Sidle" into the credit reporting site.

Quite a few showed up, over 300.

"Griss, do you know her soc.?" Catherine asked.

"No, Catherine. I'm not giving you her soc."

"Well then I guess we'll be here for a while won't we? What a waste… we could have all this done in five minutes if we had her social security number, but nooo… Mr. Ethics Committee had to ruin the party."

Grissom scowled. Sara's social security number was in her file. Which happened to be locked in his lower desk drawer. He had neglected to return it to Ecklie.

"Bend the rules, Gil," Catherine whispered in his ear as she leaned in close to him. "It doesn't hurt. I promise."

Grissom left Catherine, and returned three minutes later with a yellow Post-It note.

"Here. Don't say I never gave you anything," he chided her.

"Ah. Thank you. Welcome to the dark side. Are you going to pull up a chair, or what?"

Grissom wheeled over a chair from another computer, as Catherine typed in the numbers.

Sara Sidle's credit history popped up immediately. It listed her apartment as her last known address. No recent requests had been made.

Crap. Dead end.

"We need to get her credit card transactions," Catherine said. "And her bank account statements."

Catherine scanned the credit report for Sara's credit card companies. She got Sara's account numbers and wrote them down on the yellow Post-It. She closed the window, and opened another, logging onto the site that tracked credit card transactions.

Catherine entered in the credit card number, and Sara's credit card history popped up. Again, it showed nothing in the past month. Sara wasn't using her credit card.

"Shit! What is she doing? Using cash for everything?" Catherine was getting mildly annoyed.

Grissom suspected Sara knew that they could track her via the lab's resources, and was again keeping her whereabouts unknown. He had to respect her for being devious about this. She was doing a pretty good job of covering her tracks.

Catherine closed out the credit report and opened another window. She entered in Sara's soc. again, and got Sara's bank account number.

"She has to be spending money. You can't survive without money. Where are you, girl?"

Catherine opened yet another window and entered in the account number. The balance was $0.00.

"Okay. She wiped out her bank account. Let's see how much she had in there."

More typing as Catherine continued her information quest. Grissom was so engrossed in watching her, and Catherine was so engrossed in her task, that neither of them noticed that they had company.

"Hey, folks." Jim Brass's voice startled both of them, and Grissom was sure he wore the same 'I-Didn't-Do-It' expression that Catherine was wearing.

"What are we up to?" Brass asked quietly.

"Research," Catherine replied hastily. She minimized the two windows that were up on the computer.

"I see. I also saw Ms. Sidle's name at the top of that screen, Ms. Willows. I'm sure you both do not need to be reminded that company resources are not for personal use, let alone the numerous violations of invasion of privacy you just committed."

Catherine's voice was snotty. "Are you going to rat us out Jim, or what?"

Brass chuckled quietly to himself. "No, I figured you'd be up to this sooner or later. I've already checked myself."

Grissom choked. "What!"

"You aren't the only old man in this town who cares about her, you know."

Grissom flushed, turning away.

"Oh give me a break, Gil. You think I was born yesterday? Quit being such an ostrich."

Grissom's brows narrowed. Jim had been a friend for a long time, but having his faults thrown in his face, in front of Catherine, was humiliating. Plus, Jim carried enough authority that if he reported them to Ecklie, his claim would be taken seriously. Grissom doubted he would, but he could.

Brass turned to Catherine. "She's wiped out her bank account, and she had over five grand in there. I also found out she rented a storage bay over in Henderson. That's probably where her furniture is."

"So where do you think she went, if she isn't moving all her stuff with her? Is she on vacation?"

"If she is, she didn't fly there. No plane tickets for her at all."

Catherine paused, thoughtful. "She's driving. She's driving somewhere."

"Most likely," Jim replied.

"But where?" Grissom asked. "Where would she go?"

Brass turned to him. "I have no idea. You know her best, Gil. Think. Where would she go? Where's she comfortable?"

"I dunno," Grissom replied. "And it isn't like I haven't thought about it. A year ago, I would have thought California, but… I don't think she'd go there now."

Since Sara's revelation about her past, Grissom was pretty confident that she wouldn't return to her home state. He suspected she'd want to start over - someplace without any emotional baggage.

"She did mention once that she wanted to work for the FBI," Grissom said, recalling their conversation from years ago. "It's possible she went to D.C."

"If she's driving east, she's got to be stopping for food and places to stay," Catherine reiterated. "Eventually she'll have to use her credit cards, or get an apartment, and a job. She's gotta run out of money sometime."

Brass smiled at them. "Look, why don't you guys get back to work. I have the same resources that you have here, and I'll keep on the lookout for her. When I get a hit on something, I'll let you know."

Grissom half-smiled, grateful, even though he knew Jim was risking a possible suspension for this. Heck, they all were. He was sure that this type of snooping was not allowed.

Catherine logged off the computer, clearly disappointed that her spy game was over. She smiled at Brass despite her disappointment.

"Thanks, Jim. Let him know first, okay?"

Jim nodded as Catherine walked away.

Grissom didn't say anything as Brass looked at him.

"Any ideas on what you're going to do once we find her?" Brass asked.

Grissom blinked. "Do? Why should I do anything? She left."

"Oh, I dunno…" Brass sang. "I thought you might go find her, talk to her, beg her to come back, so that you don't die a withered old man surrounded by your cockroaches."

"Jim! You're out of line."

"Am I?" Brass's voice was smug.

"Yes, you are."

"Okay. So I am. I've been totally out of line watching you mope around for the past week. I was out of line when I heard you just about declare your love for her to some suspect. I'm also out of line for watching her drink herself into a DUI over you. In fact, I'm just so out of line for watching the two of you make goo-goo eyes at each other for the past five years."

Brass was in Grissom's face, sneering. "Yup. I'm out of line, aren't I, Gil?"

"Back off, Jim."

"Fine. Fine. I'll back off." He stepped back two paces, arms up in the defensive. "You just snuggle up with those roaches. I'm sure they'll keep you nice and warm when you're cold and lonely."

Grissom was silent as Brass stared him down. Brass badgered suspects for a living, and was very, very good at it. Being on the receiving end of his taunts was not extremely pleasant. But Grissom and Brass had gone rounds before, so Grissom knew how to play his game. Yet Brass was in rare form today.

"Are you cold and lonely, Gil? How's your apartment feeling these days? Is it cold?"

Grissom didn't answer. Perhaps he should have.

"My apartment is really cold, Gil." Brass started pacing slowly, a hawk hovering over its prey. "You know, I'll bet there are a lot of men in this lab with cold apartments."

Brass paused a moment before continuing, his tone thoughtful. "I could go find her myself. She likes me; I'm her friend. I'll go visit her in D.C., or wherever the hell she is. I'll bring her some flowers, and I'll take her out to dinner. I'll make her smile, and laugh, and maybe… if I'm lucky… maybe she'll give me a nice, big hug when I take her home."

Brass stepped towards Grissom, and leaned in close.

"Who knows," Brass whispered in Grissom's ear, "maybe I can cop a feel of her sweet ass."

Grissom stiffened, but he wasn't about to take the bait.

"Little Greg Sanders is her new best friend, right? And we all know he'd be delighted if they were more. I'll bet she'd be really happy to see her friend if he went to visit her. If he played his cards right, he'd probably get more than a big hug, too. Much more. I've seen him working out in the gym over at the PD. He isn't a young little lab rat anymore."

"And let's not forget Stokes, either. I always liked them together. They have a lot in common, you know? And they don't have that huge 'age' problem. They could screw like rabbits and raise little CSI babies together."

Grissom's temper was beginning to flare as Brass continued to taunt him.

"He's probably better for her than little Sanders. I don't know why Stokes never acted on it while she was here. It couldn't be because of you, because we all know that you can't do it, right? Maybe you should give Nick the okay to go after her instead. I'm sure Sara'd appreciate Nick's flavor of friendship, you know? I know he'd appreciate her"

Brass leaned in close for the kill.

"Do you think he'd get to fuck her on the second date? Or would he have to wait until the third? It shouldn't take more than three, though, ya think? You could ask him what she felt like when he got back. Then you'd know."

"That's enough, Jim," Grissom growled.

"Enough of what, Gil? She's not yours… you didn't have the balls then, and clearly you don't have the balls now."

Grissom exploded, and whirled in his chair to face Brass, banging his fist on the table.

"THAT… IS… ENOUGH!"

Brass didn't back away. Instead he blinked and smiled brightly at his friend, meeting him face-to-face.

Grissom sighed, his anger retreating as quickly as it had flared.

"Happy now, Jim?"

"This isn't about my happiness, Gil," Brass spoke quietly, backing off as he laid a hand lightly on Grissom's shoulder. "Look, realistically, you don't have to do anything. Just… think about it for a bit."

Grissom was left alone with his thoughts and the whir of the computers as his friend turned and walked out of the room.

continued next chapter ->