Foretold by SLynn

Summary: A woman walks into the crime lab only to tell Greg Sanders about her murder, a murder he's going to solve. Is she just playing games or is it something more?

Spoilers: Through 'Gum Drops'

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

Notes: I feel obligated to say that a canon character is about to die. If you wish to stop reading, please do. You've been warned.

"Life is the sum of all your choices."

Albert Camus

Chapter 5: Choices

For several days after their talk, things between Greg and Sara could best be described as cordial. They still talked to one another, but not any more than was strictly necessary for the job. There was no animosity in either of their tones, but the usual easy going friendliness was also gone. They did their jobs with as little interaction as possible and it was killing her.

Sara wanted to put things right between them, but didn't know where to begin. She would have honestly preferred open hostility from him to this pretend politeness. She knew he was angry at how she'd treated him, but wished he could just be straightforward with her about it. Instead he was completely cutting her off and out of his life.

On reflection she realized that she should have probably approached him differently about the whole situation, but what else could she have done? He was her friend; she'd been worried and reacted first without thinking. Sara knew that she was sometimes too blunt with people, but she couldn't help it. It was how she was; a part of her.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, Sara practically dragged Greg with her on a dinner break to clear the air.

If approaching him the way she did the first time was a mistake, this tactic was a disaster.

They had a huge fight. Sara really had meant to apologize about how she'd acted but Greg wouldn't even give her the chance. He'd assumed that she was taking him out to berate him again and hardly let her get a word in. When she did finally get a chance to speak she was so mad that everything that did come out of her mouth just made matters worse.

The meal had ended with Greg leaving abruptly telling her to stay out of his business.

The rest of that night she'd spent avoiding him, which turned out to be surprisingly easy. She couldn't understand why he was acting the way he was. He hardly knew this girl and yet he was seemingly willing to throw away their friendship over her. That he was ready to believe and trust a perfect stranger more than he trusted her. It was so infuriating. So disappointing.

She'd thought she meant more to him than that.

And that was the real problem. Sara had thought she meant more to him but must have been wrong. Greg obviously didn't hold her with the same esteem as she did him.

It hadn't been an easy night to get through and that day was worse. She hardly slept and hardly knew why. Nevertheless, when she arrived at work that night she was determined to act like everything was fine. Sara wasn't about to let him know how much she was hurt.

But he didn't show.

At first she thought maybe he was just running late. Traffic was horrible all the time in Vegas and it wasn't unheard of for one of them, usually Greg, to get caught up in it. However, when Grissom started the meeting and Warrick interrupted to ask if they were waiting on Greg, he said there wasn't a need to and left it at that.

After the meeting Sara cornered Grissom and asked point blank where Greg was. To her surprise he wouldn't say. All Grissom would tell her was that Greg would be back on Monday.

That failing, she tried Nick which really wasn't much better. If he knew where Greg was he wasn't telling, at least not her.

Frustrated, Sara spent another night silent and sulky. By the end of it more than half of the techs in the lab were jumping out of her way as she trudged down the hall. Monday was a long time to wait for answers, but as none were forthcoming she'd have to make do until then.

If she thought not seeing Greg for a night was bad, not seeing him for four nights was worse.

It didn't seem like it ever would, but eventually Monday came. Sara arrived at the lab a good hour before the grave yard shift was to start and found herself prowling the corridor between the locker room and the break room.

Twenty minutes before shift change, Greg showed up.

Sara, who had been sitting in the break room at the time, saw him pass and instantly got to her feet and followed him down the hall.

Every step she took made her angrier and angrier, without reason. Sara knew she had no right to feel that way, but couldn't stop herself. How dare he leave like that without any explanation. How dare he treat her the way he had. He had no regard for her feelings or her friendship and she was fed up with men like that.

Sara fully intended to tell him off about it. Loudly, not caring who was around or what they might think. She'd had it. Completely had it this time. But as she opened the door to the locker room the reproachful words died in her throat never finding escape.

Greg was just sitting there with his head in his hands, unmoving.

He looked so dejected, so worn out and older, much older, than she'd ever seen him before.

The door behind her slipped shut and he looked up and over at the sudden noise. Getting to his feet he hastily opened his locker and said a feeble hello.

"You okay?" she asked, all her anger completely done away.

Greg just shook his head and sat back down, letting out a stifled laugh.

"I probably should have taken another night."

Sara said nothing, just waited for him to continue as she knew he would.

"Listen," he began, "I'm really sorry about how I acted the other night. I'd just gotten…I'd just found out…"

He trailed off for a moment, stopping to clear his throat before continuing.

"My grandfather died."

"Papa Olaf?" Sara asked, sounding shocked.

"Yeah," Greg nodded, looking down. "He'd been getting…it's been coming on for some time. I mean, he was in his eighties. That's where I was. His funeral."

Greg stopped abruptly.

"I was just upset and shouldn't have taken it out on you. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Sara said immediately. "It's not important."

And it wasn't anymore. Not after seeing him so affected.

Greg nodded weakly but still wasn't looking her way.

"You know," he said after a moment's pause, "I think I am going to take another night off. Could you tell Grissom for me?"

"You're going home?"

"Yeah," he said with a short nod.

"Okay," she returned, "but let me drive. You don't look like you're up to it."

"Thanks Sara, but I'll be fine."

"No really…"

"You'll be late for work."

"I'm not even on tonight," she admitted. "I only came in because I wanted to talk to you."

Greg met and held her gaze.

"Really?"

"Yes really."

"Wow," he said, finally cracking a small smile. "I must have really pissed you off."

"Really," she said, smiling herself, "but I'm over it."

"You shouldn't be. I was being an ass."

"You can't help it."

Greg smiled again and nodded his head.

"So," Sara said after a pause, "where were…"

But she didn't get the chance to finish as Brass banged his way through the door.

"Sanders," he called out loudly. "Good, you're here. Your girlfriend's back talking nonsense again. Won't leave until she talks with you."

"My what?" Greg asked, completely surprised.

Sara was too, only letting it briefly flicker across her features.

"Ashley Baker," Brass answered dryly. "Says she has to see you now and that she knows you're here. Should we be looking into a restraining order on this woman? She's not following you around still, is she?"

"No," Greg said with a shake of his head, looking down. "She's harmless. Where is she now?"

"Down in the interview room. Want me to go in with you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Brass smiled briefly and nodded before turning to go.

"Don't take too long getting there," he called out before going.

A heavy tension settled upon them, one that hadn't been there before.

"She's not, is she?" Sara finally had to ask.

"Following me?" Greg predicted. "No. She's not."

"So you haven't seen her again," Sara continued on, as they both headed towards the door.

"I didn't say that."

Sara nodded and realized she didn't want to know any more. She accompanied him down the hall and towards the main integration room not knowing what else to say.

"Why don't you come inside with me," Greg asked as they stopped outside the door.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Sara freely admitted. She really wasn't sure what she'd end up saying at this point.

"I'd like you to. If you know… if you wanted to."

Sara stopped and considered it before finally nodding in agreement.

She had to see for herself.

Greg sat across from Ashley, Sara to his left, and tried to make sense of the situation.

Prior to leaving town Greg had managed to run into Ashley several times. Each time it had been just as unexpected, Ashley really did just seem to turn up. Once it was while he was out running. Another time it was back at the grocery store. It was odd but he didn't question it.

They'd talked some more but she really didn't have anything new to say. She seemed to be getting increasingly agitated each time he saw her. Greg didn't know what to think of it. She kept insisting that he could solve it, that he could stop a murder, but she wouldn't say more, wouldn't help more.

And he tried every line of questioning he could think of, but it was always the same. Ashley just kept repeating the same bits of information without telling him how she came upon them or what they meant. Greg doubted she knew herself, but he had to keep trying. It seemed so important to her, and whether or not he could admit it, it was becoming important to him.

Tonight however, sitting there, she seemed composed. Much more composed than he'd ever seen her. Almost at ease.

"What can I do for you Ashley?" Greg asked seeing that she wasn't going to speak first.

"I don't have anything new."

"Okay," Greg said easily accepting that as true.

"So why are you here?" Sara asked, her face betraying an unusual amount of emotion.

"I saw on TV tonight that you haven't caught that guy yet," Ashley said, ignoring Sara and looking instead to Greg. "The one from the gas place that killed those people. I'm sorry I'd hoped you'd have some one by now."

"No," Greg affirmed, "we don't. But if you saw the report you saw that we do have him on tape, from another robbery. Do you know anything about it?"

"I told you before I don't. I'm sorry. I wish I did."

"So did you just come here to talk?" Sara tried again.

"Yes actually. I did."

Sara sat back in her chair and glared at her.

"I wanted to offer my condolences," Ashley went on, still fixing her gaze on Greg. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"How did you know?"

Ashley shrugged and looked down at her hands.

"I just did."

Sara leaned forward, looking from Ashley to Greg, uncertain what to think.

"Did you make it back in time?" Ashley asked softly.

"No," Greg found himself answering, without really meaning too.

"I'm sorry for that too."

"It was my choice," Greg said firmly.

"That's what life is all about isn't it," Ashley asked in return, "choices?"

"I don't …" Sara began to say but was quickly interrupted.

"But even with all these choices life gives us, we can't change who we are."

She had both Greg and Sara's full attention now. Neither of them moved, or blinked, or breathed.

"Life offers us choices. Every day. And every day we decide who we're going to be."

Another pause followed. You could hear a pin drop for all the silence that filled the room.

"Do you ever think that if maybe you'd just done one thing differently in your life, just made one different choice, you'd be a different person?"

"It's not that easy," Greg said without realizing.

"Maybe it's not," she agreed. "But maybe…"

The interview hadn't lasted long. Ashley really didn't seem to have anything to say, but neither Sara nor Greg could stop thinking about it all.

Once she was gone they continued to sit in the room for some time.

Finally, Sara had to ask.

"How did she know about your grandfather dying?"

"I don't know," Greg answered honestly. "She just did."

"So, what? Do you think she's psychic?"

Greg shrugged. He wasn't sure. He didn't know what to think about anything right now.

"Psychic. Empathic. Clairvoyant. Maybe she's just a good researcher," Greg suggested. "I don't know. But she did. She knew."

Sara nodded slowly as Greg got to his feet.

"You ready to go home?" she asked, still meaning to drive him if he'd let her.

"No," he said with a small shake of his head. "I think I'll just get to work. Push through, you know."

Sara nodded. She knew very well.

"If you're sure," was all she said though she wanted to say more.

"I am," he returned.

It was one of those choices he just had to make.