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 must take a moment and thank the lovely and talented Tripp3235 and RivenSky who are always kind to me and to my writing. Even when it sucks. Also note that I take great liberties with Greg's character and background, but since the show won't give him one on the show, I will!

"Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find
You and I collide"

Howie Day 'Collide'

Chapter 7: Collide

Some time after one in the afternoon, just as Greg's head nearly hit the table for the third time, Sofia decided it was time to for everyone to go home.

Greg hadn't wanted to, tried protesting that he was perfectly capable of continuing on with the investigation, but was quickly overruled. They all needed a break, not just him, and they could continue when shift started again that night.

Knowing that it was pointless to argue with Sofia and Warrick, Greg was resigned although not happily. There was still too much to do. They hadn't even found a next of kin for Ashley Baker yet, let alone tracked down an employer. All that had been accomplished so far was the inventory of her possessions, from both her car and what seemed relevant from her apartment, and the autopsy.

As expected, the cause of death was already evident. No one takes a fall like that without it being the cause of death, but still Doc Robbins had done a tox screen. A tox screen would at least show she'd been drugged or poisoned or in some way medically coerced. And that was what had Greg so on edge. If it came back negative, he knew that the investigation would likely be closed and ruled suicide and then he'd never know.

That's what was killing him now; he might never know. And he needed to.

Greg felt obligated to understand why this had happened.

But Sofia was right; he couldn't go on any longer. Suicide or not, it was extremely unlikely that Grissom would let him continue on the case when the time came around. If Greg wanted answers he knew that he was going to eventually have to find them himself or pry them from whoever did get the case.

It was a short ride home from the lab. Short and scary as Greg remembered none of it. He didn't bother undressing, just kicked off his shoes, lay on the bed and was snoring within moments.

Greg was startled from his sleep by a series of loud, sharp knocks coming from the front door. Not that his rest had done any good. It was the kind of sleep you have when you are tired past the point of dreaming, the kind where you wake up more exhausted than when you first laid down. But at least he'd slept.

Checking the clock, disturbed to see it was later than he'd imagined and already dark, he moved slowly towards the sound.

He wasn't surprised to see Sara. He'd been almost expecting her earlier at the lab, had been certain she'd be there at the first sign of anything deemed trouble concerning Ashley.

Greg thought he could already see the disapproval in her eyes, but was mistaken. He wasn't surprised, but she was at his appearance. Sara had never seen him look so bad before.

"It's a little early for an 'I told you so', isn't it?" he asked instead of saying hello, just walking away from the door and sitting down, allowing her to follow.

"That's not why I'm here," Sara said, sounding one part confused and one part surprised.

"I'm sorry," he offered, having caught the look of hurt in her eyes, however brief. "I just…it's been a really long week, you know? And you were right. About all of it. I should have never gotten involved in the first place."

"It's not your fault," Sara said, sitting down beside him.

"Isn't it?" he asked, turning to her. "I should have seen that she was depressed or something."

"You didn't know her, Greg. How would you know something like that?"

"But you did," he countered earnestly.

"No," she returned. "Not this. I never imagined anything like this would happen. Greg, I was worried for you, not for her. I didn't…"

"You were worried for me?" he interrupted to ask, causing her a brief stutter.

"I told you I was," she answered, not able to quite look him in the eye.

"I thought all that talk was about the job," Greg said, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. "That you were worried I'd mess up my job or something. I didn't think you meant me."

"Why not?" she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer but daring it anyway.

"I don't know," Greg answered, his voice closer to normal. "I mean, we're friends I guess."

"You guess?" Sara shot back, sounding offended.

"Not guess," Greg stammered back at her. "Well, I've always thought we were, but it's hard to tell with you sometimes; what you think."

Sara half-smiled, admitting the truth of that.

They sat in a heavy silence, neither knowing exactly what to say next or how to continue. Finally, taking a deep breath, Sara had to say it; had to say something.

"Listen," Sara began, "this last week I've been doing a lot of thinking about…"

She was about to say 'us' when the phone rang cutting her off. They both sat there, not moving.

"I should get that," Greg said after the third ring, looking at her intently but not moving.

"Yeah," she replied a bit too brightly. Relieved to be stalled this way; uncertain now if actually finishing that sentence would have been a good thing.

Greg made his way to the phone, picking it up and looking once more to Sara as he said 'hello' into it.

Sara looked away, not wanting to appear as if she was eavesdropping but couldn't help but hear anyway.

"The drive back was fine," he said now, but his tone had changed.

It didn't sound like the Greg she knew talking. He sounded, if anything, bitter.

"About what?" he asked, turning his back and walking towards the kitchen.

Sara stood and moved to the far side of the room on the pretense of looking at his bookshelf.

"Well, Anne, I'm sorry…" Greg stopped talking and Sara could just hear the sound of the other person carrying on like an angry buzz.

"Are you still on about that?" Greg asked unbelievably, moving from the kitchen to his bedroom with a few fast steps.

After that Sara could hear no more, but had heard enough to wonder what it was about. She couldn't help but wonder. She thought Anne might be his sister. She knew he had one, an older one, but now the name escaped her. It wasn't like Greg ever talked much about his family, aside from Papa Olaf, but once or twice he'd mentioned her.

Looking over the bookshelf now with more interest, Sara smiled at the odd collection he'd amassed. Everything from chemistry to science-fiction was lined up neatly before her, alphabetized even.

One book in particular caught her eye as it looked both older than all the rest and had been placed in front of the others at eye level, as if Greg had just got it.

Picking it up she could see right away it was foreign and even though she couldn't read it, realized it was probably Norwegian.

Sara was about to flip it open when Greg came back into the room holding the phone, conversation over.

"I see you've made yourself comfortable," Greg joked as he put the phone back into place.

"Sorry," Sara said, somewhat embarrassed to have been caught rifling through his things.

Greg just shook his head, it wasn't important, as he gently took the book from her hands.

"Do you mind me asking?" she said, indicating the book.

"Family Bible," he answered with a nod, "and actually what Anne was calling about."

Sighing, he placed the book back onto the shelf before sitting down again.

"She's pitching a fit because I have it."

"Why?" Sara asked, joining him once more on the couch.

"Oh man, the reasons are endless. Everything from 'I had no right' to 'she's the oldest'. The oldest and the one with a family. And a career, like I'm working a hobby or something. Man she knows how to push my buttons. She just kept going on and on about how it wasn't fair that I got left all the money and the family heirlooms. Like I wrote the will."

"Your grandfather left you everything?"

"Yeah," Greg said, stopping momentarily from his rant and fixing her with a playful gaze. "What? I'm cuter now that I have money?"

Sara just looked at him with her mouth slightly open, unable to respond.

"I'm joking," he laughed. "Besides, it's not really all that much. Papa Olaf was pretty sick towards the end. Lots of hospital bills. Plus the funeral. She wasn't asking about her fair share of that of course. His lawyer said once all the accounts have been squared away, it'll be maybe ten to twenty thousand."

Sara nodded, not sure if it would be impolite to ask more but curiosity got the best of her in the end.

"What about your parents? Aren't they handling any of this?"

"My parents are useless and probably just as mad as Anne is, if not more. They hardly spoke to me when I was there; I didn't even stay with them. But, we never really got along. They always expected more from me than I could give."

Greg just shrugged his shoulders at that and gave her half a smile.

He was about to ask her what she'd been trying to say before they were interrupted when they were interrupted again by the phone.

"If that's Anne…" Greg said, getting up and leaving the statement unfinished. But he'd said it with more humor than before, causing Sara to smile.

He wasn't on long and Sara knew it couldn't have been Anne. Greg hardly said two words before hanging up and rubbing his eyes vigorously with his hands.

"It can't be more bad news," she offered.

"Don't know," Greg said with his hands still covering his eyes, "but it didn't sound good. Grissom wants to see me. Now. And he doesn't sound happy."

Sara was on the verge of saying 'when does he' but stopped as she caught Greg grinning at her like he could read her mind.

"I know," he said with a nod, "I know."

Sara laughed.

"I should probably let you get ready," she said, standing to take her leave.

"Yeah," he agreed, walking with her to the front door. "If I take longer than half an hour he'll come unglued. Well, as unglued as he gets. Probably say my name in that tone."

Sara nodded, still smiling and unmoving from the doorway.

"But," Greg went on, leaning against the doorframe, "if you had something to talk to me about I could risk it. You were fixing to tell me something before…"

"No," Sara said very suddenly, "it's fine. We can talk later."

"Are you sure?"

Sara just smiled tightly and nodded.

"When?" he asked, catching her off guard.

"Um," she said, looking down and thinking of a way to stall.

She wasn't sure what she'd been ready to say at that moment, but now that it passed she wasn't sure if saying anything would be right. And she knew Greg well enough to know that he wasn't about to drop it. Or forget. Not for one moment.

"How about we go to breakfast tomorrow?" he asked her. "After shift? I'd say dinner now, but you know…Grissom's waiting."

"Okay," she nodded; thankful she'd have a whole night to think up something to say. "Sounds good."

"So it's a d…."

"Date," Sara jumped in and then immediately wished she'd kept her mouth shut at the surprise that registered on Greg's face.

He'd been about to say 'deal'.

"Not a 'date' date," Sara tried back peddling, completely humiliated and asking herself why she was like this with men.

"No, a date is fine," Greg said eagerly, talking over her.

"I just don't want…"

"Don't want what?"

"I…I don't know what I want," Sara admitted.

Greg nodded slowly, refusing to give in to the budding optimism that was building in his chest, but unable to keep the small smirk off his face either.

"Well maybe we can talk about that," he suggested.

Sara let out a breath and nodded.

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Okay," Greg said rather cheerfully. "So tomorrow it is."

"Okay," she smiled back at him, also trying to rid herself of the sudden rush of butterflies in the stomach. "I'll see you then. Well, then and tonight. At the lab. Before then."

"Good."

Sara didn't say any more, just took a few steps back, still smiling before heading towards her car.

Greg watched until she got in and drove off, unable to wipe the grin off his face despite himself; tonight having been the one bright spot in an otherwise dark week.