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: Thanks to RivenSky and Tripp3235 for making this possible. :)
"And she says ooh, it's so hard to love when love was your great disappointment."
Lloyd Cole 'Rattlesnakes'
Chapter 9: Disappointment
She'd expected him to forget.
It was understandable; he had a lot on his mind. Between his own cases, the Ashley Baker mystery, his grandfather's death, Greg was becoming seriously overburdened.
But, at the end of shift, he found her once again in the locker room and casually reminded her of their date.
It was at that moment Sara realized she hadn't so much expected him to forget, but that she'd really wanted him to.
Not that she was going to back out. No, she'd come too far for that. Sara figured it was best to just get it out there and over with, whatever it was.
But it wasn't that easy. It was never that easy. She didn't know what Greg wanted out of all this, and honestly she didn't know what she wanted either. Talking was a good start, but it seemed like they should be past that.
Sometimes, when she thought it over, she really could see herself being happy with Greg. He was a great guy, plain and simple. He was smart, handsome, kind and caring. And he made her laugh, no one made her laugh the way Greg did. Plus they had a spark between them that she couldn't deny. She knew him well enough to know that he'd never hurt her and that he'd do anything for her. Being with Greg would be easy.
Too easy.
That was the problem. It would be so easy that it would be scary. Nothing had ever come easy for Sara and the idea that love…
Was love supposed to be easy?
All of her first-hand experiences said 'no'. But all of those experiences…
She was over thinking things again. Sara knew it, but couldn't help herself. She was getting way ahead of things. Making plans of action and escape well before she knew what she needed or even what she wanted.
Honestly, the whole thing scared her so much she didn't think she could go through with it. But she smiled her best smile as they headed out the door together. They'd quickly agreed to go someplace a bit more out of the way than their typical breakfast haunt. The diner down the street, while good, was frequented by more than half the lab on any given morning. Normally, that wasn't an issue. Neither of them had anything to hide, but today was different. Today they were going to talk, really talk, and it was best not to do it with an audience.
Taking separate cars they arrived at their destination in no time, were quickly seated, and then proceeded to stare down the menu.
It was awkward.
After ordering and another few minutes of complete silence, Greg finally broke the ice.
"So I guess one of us should say something, right?"
"Yeah, this is…"
"Weird," he provided with a smile.
"Very," she agreed, laughing nervously.
"Listen," he began before she could say more, "I think we both know that things haven't exactly been normal between us. We've been spending a lot of time together, and I'm glad we're friends, but sometimes it feels like more. Like there's been something different happening between us. I think we have something here that could be great, but I'm not trying to push you or anything. And the last thing I want is to ruin our friendship. So if you do or you don't want that, either way, I'm okay with it. It's completely your decision and if you tell me to knock it off, or that you're not interested, I promise I'll never bring it up again. Really."
It was hard for her not to smile at that.
"I sound like an idiot, don't I?" he asked, cracking a smile as well.
"Not completely," Sara answered with a laugh.
"This sounded a lot better in my head."
"It wasn't bad," she said immediately, not wanting to hurt his feelings but still so very amused.
"You don't have to lie," Greg said, but still smiling.
"But it was true," Sara went on. "There is something between us."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," she returned, with a short nod.
"So, is that good?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of her.
"Part of me thinks so."
"Part," Greg repeated, unable to hide the disappointment.
Sara let out a sigh, knowing this wasn't going to be easy; that his awkward, yet very sincere speech, while genuine in its sentiment, had forced her into retreat.
"This," she explained, indicating them both with her hand, "would be very complicated. Could make things very complicated at work."
"Sara," he replied, very earnestly, "I can separate my work from my life. You don't have to worry about…"
"You might be able to," she interjected, "but I'm not sure I can."
Greg looked at her curiously.
"People will talk," she continued, as if that explained it all.
"And you don't want people talking about you…"
"Or us."
"Oh," Greg said shortly and Sara knew instantly he'd taken it the wrong way.
It wasn't about her being embarrassed by him. It wasn't about that at all. Sara didn't care what people thought about her or about them. She never had. Mostly, she just needed an excuse and it was the first one that had popped into her head. Any excuse because the real reason was that she was scared. Scared for no reason of what could be, in his own words, great.
"Alright," he said, after a pause, "well, I have my answer."
Sara, seeing how hurt he was despite his best effort to appear otherwise, wanted to tell him the truth but ultimately chose not to. She reasoned that it was better this way for both of them.
After all, they could continue being friends. That would be the easiest and safest thing to do. Sure, he was hurt now but he'd get over it. Sara was certain of it. And it was better to have a little hurt than a lot because ultimately, that would be how it ended.
No matter how simple and easy it would seem to be, she knew better than that. Eventually it would catch up with them and end in disappointment.
And Sara was sure she couldn't handle another disappointment like that.
Greg wasn't sure how he'd made it through the rest of their meal together. It hadn't been easy, but all in all he thought he'd done alright.
Yes, he was disappointed. Extremely so, but he'd also promised Sara not to let that come between their friendship. And he was determined to stick to his word.
Not that that would be easy either.
Fortunately he had something else to help occupy his mind at the moment, because no matter what was happening in his life he couldn't entirely put aside Ashley Baker.
Knowing that it could cost him his job, Greg headed from the restaurant to the Rio.
Greg remembered the employee parking pass he'd found in her car and thought it couldn't hurt to ask around. To see if any of Ashley's friends or co-workers had noticed a difference in her. In short, to discern if she really had been suicidal.
It was easy getting in with his credentials. He'd quickly explained the situation to the manager and been told that Ashley was a part-time employee in one of the main bars; a cocktail waitress. The manager, Mr. Jeffries, hadn't been able to tell him much about Ashley. He hadn't really known her, but did say that she was always punctual and never had a bad review. After that he'd led Greg to the employee locker room and given him access to her locker and belongings.
There wasn't much there and nothing Greg planned on taking. A few photographs of Ashley with some friends, one of what appeared to be her family and a change of clothes were all it really afforded.
"She didn't keep much in there," a voice from behind called out, startling him before quickly apologizing for the scare.
"It's okay," Greg assured her.
"What are you, a cop? I thought she, you know, killed herself."
"We're just making sure we've covered everything," Greg answered.
The woman nodded. In a lot of ways she reminded him of Ashley. She fit right in. She was young, probably in her mid-twenties at the most, but she looked older. Vegas did that to people.
"Did you know Ms. Baker?"
"Ashley?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did anyone?"
Greg continued to stare at her, waiting for the additional information he knew would come.
"Ashley was nice, but kept to herself. Quiet. Didn't really socialize with the rest of us. You know the type."
"Yeah, I do."
"Plus, she was a little…odd."
"How so?" Greg asked, taking notes.
"Are you really a cop?" she asked, growing skeptical.
"I'm a crime scene investigator," Greg answered, showing her his identification.
"So, like a detective?"
"Kind of," Greg returned, wanting to get back to Ashley.
"What kind of money do you make?"
"Enough," Greg said with a small smile, "but what were you saying about Ms. Baker?"
"Oh, Ashley," the woman continued, but smiling more than before, "she was just a bit off. Never really sure if she was completely there, upstairs. Like she had too much to think about; just constantly preoccupied. And she was always making friends with the blue-haired crowd."
"But it's kind of your job here to make friends with the customers, right?"
"Yeah," the woman agreed, "but only the ones that tip well. Guys your age, that's where the real money is made doing this. You smile, flirt a little, bring them an extra drink. But Ashley was always wasting her time chatting up the older ladies. Worst tippers there are."
Greg nodded, taking mental note of it. If she had been scamming money with her psychic bit, this is probably how she met her marks.
"Did you notice any changes in her lately?"
"Well," she began, "she'd started getting really touchy. Like, okay so you see what they make us wear, right?"
Greg nodded, not looking as best he could at the less than modest attire, typical of waitresses in the casinos.
"It's like an open invite to some the guys, high rollers especially."
"Wandering hands," he provided.
"Exactly," she said with a brisk nod. "But it comes with the territory. If a guy gets to be too much you get the pit boss. No big deal. Well, a few weeks ago some guy gives her a little pat on the backside and she goes nuts. Starts yelling at the top of her lungs. Just completely freaks out."
"What happened?"
"Well Terry, Mr. Jeffries, sent her home for the night. Told her to take a break. Next day she comes back, no problem."
"And she'd never acted that way before?"
"Not that I'd seen. And that kind of thing gets around. Isn't exactly great for business. I think she was just overworked. She looked like she hadn't been sleeping, it gets to you after awhile."
"Yeah," Greg agreed, writing it all down in his notebook.
"I know I probably shouldn't have, and I wouldn't have if I'd known she was going to do something like this, but I gave her some of my Valium. Just a few. I thought it would help her get a decent night's rest for once. She really did look a mess."
Greg nodded, that at least cleared up one part of it all.
"Is there anything else, because I need to get back to work."
"No, that's it. Thanks for your help…" Greg paused, realizing he'd forgotten the most important part of his training, always get a name.
"It's Jane," she said with a smile and a wink, "just Jane."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't need any trouble over the drugs, so if we could keep that part…"
"No," Greg said, "no, don't worry about that. But why… why did you pick Jane?"
She gave him an odd look, like it should be obvious.
"Everyone wants to be anonymous."