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 must be given to Tripp3235 and RivenSky who put up with my ramblings and correct my mistakes.

"Nothing sharpens sight like envy."

Thomas Fuller

Chapter 13: Envy

Two things happened during shift that really took Greg by surprise. The first being Nick and Warrick accosting him during dinner break and demanding to be let in on the 'unofficial' investigation into Ashley Baker. Their reasoning was sound, that the four of them together could get further than just Greg and Sara alone, plus that Greg was likely to work himself into the ground if he continued at this rate. He couldn't help but agree, and honestly it was a relief. Sara was a big help, but fresh and unbiased eyes would be a huge contribution.

The second surprise came by way of a note. Detective Harper, apparently informed by Doc Robbins that Greg was looking into some of his cold cases, asked him to stop by at the end of his shift. He wasn't as enthusiastic about this second surprise as he had been about the first, but seeing as Harper had gone directly to him and not Ecklie, he didn't think he was going to be told to back off. At least, he hoped he wasn't.

At the moment, he didn't have time to really think about either of these things. He sat, hunched over a map of Vegas trying to regain his bearings.

"She said it was exit 31?" Greg asked Warrick for the fourth time as they sped south down I-15.

"No, I think she said take exit 27 and then go north on Dean Martin. They're at mile marker 31."

Greg looked up just in time to see them whip past the flashing lights and easily recognizable SVUs on the side of the interstate. He didn't even have time to shake his head before his phone rang.

"She saw us," Warrick said with a hint of a smile.

"We're almost there," Greg said into the phone.

"Forget it," Catherine said in reply. "Grissom and I have got this one, we got another call."

He'd started to ask where, but it became unnecessary. Warrick had pulled up to the scene and Catherine, shutting her phone, walked over to tell them in person.

Five minutes later they were headed up Blue Diamond; past the very gas station he'd first seen Ashley towards Mountain Springs.

"Sara and Nick are probably already there," Greg said, mostly to himself. "Ten bucks says they send us somewhere else."

Warrick just laughed, concentrating hard on the road.

"So are we supposed to just guess where this scene is?" Greg asked, realizing they hadn't gotten specifics.

"You've never been to Mountain Springs before?"

"I've been to the canyon, but never stopped here," Greg answered, checking out the very sparse landscape.

"Trust me, it won't be hard to find."

And it wasn't. The town, like lots of towns around Vegas, was tiny. They were at the crime scene within five minutes of arriving.

"Took you long enough," Sofia said, coming up to greet them.

"Lot of cops for a small place," Warrick commented.

"Well, it's not everyday that construction crews stumble across five mummified bodies."

"What?" Greg and Warrick said at nearly the same time.

"There may be more," Sofia went on.

She quickly explained that the house was being demolished to make way for a convenience store. When crews broke into the first wall they found a body hidden behind the dry wall. They called the local police who quickly discovered four additional sets of remains. It was then that additional help was arranged.

"So where are Nick and Sara?" Warrick asked as they stepped inside.

"Sara's in the attic and Nick is in the dining room where the first body was found."

"Why don't you go give Sara a hand," Warrick said, not really a question.

"I'll show you the way," Sofia said, indicating the staircase with a quick nod.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Sofia pointed him to the ladder that led to the attic crawlspace.

"Hey Sara," he said loudly, as he made his way up, making sure he wasn't surprising her.

Stopping at the top, Greg took out his flashlight and waited a moment for Sofia to pass him his case. The space was small and dirty, not more than a crawlspace, limited and stifling. One look was all it took to understand why it was Sara up here instead of Nick.

"Nice shoes," Sofia said with a smile.

Greg, smiling back and looking down at his checkered Vans, laughed.

"That's why I got them, drives the ladies wild."

"I can see why."

"Ready to get to work?" Sara interrupted, rather curtly; meeting him at the steps he still hadn't finished climbing.

"Yep," Greg answered. "See you later Sofia."

"Have fun," Sofia's retreating voice answered back.

"What was that all about?" she asked, making her way back to the remains she'd been examining.

"What was what all about?"

"Nice shoes?" she repeated.

"It's called conversation," Greg retorted. "Being friendly. You remember it, right?"

Sara shot him an unmistakable glare.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath as he opened his case, "maybe you don't."

"What does that mean?"

"Jeez, Sara, let's not start. Okay? We were getting along fine this morning, why can't we now?"

Sara apparently had nothing to say to that. Quietly, they both set to work.

"But why does she care about your shoes," Sara suddenly burst out, some twenty minutes later.

"I don't know," Greg returned wearily, trying hard not to get dragged into an argument she seemed hell bent on having.

"It was like she was flirting with you."

"She wasn't flirting."

"Yes," Sara said, more determined and obviously more annoyed, "she was."

"So what if she was," Greg, overtired and frustrated, shot back. "Why do you care?"

Again, Sara was silenced. Greg had no idea why she was acting this way. Or even why she did care. He'd been upfront with her about how he felt, and she'd been equally honest with him. Where he went from there really wasn't her business.

"Are you going to ask her out too?" Sara asked a few minutes later, placing heavy emphasis on the word her.

"Give it a rest."

"Does that mean you already have?"

"No, it means no. I'm not interested in her," Greg said, also emphasizing the word her.

"Hey," called Nick from seemingly nowhere, stopping them both dead in their tracks. "I don't care who Greg asks out, but I thought you both would want to know that day shift is here to relieve us."

"Oh," Warrick's voice piped up, "that and we can hear you from here."

Sara and Greg waited until Nick and Warrick's laughter subsided before collecting their things to go.

"I'm really not interested in her," Greg said quietly. "She's not my type."

"What is your type then?" Sara asked, but her tone was much friendlier than it had been all night.

Greg looked up at her and smiled.

"Exasperating."

The ride back was silent. Greg had expected a thousand questions from Warrick about what he and Nick had overheard, but none came.

A little more than relieved, Greg headed straight for the locker room and from there to the showers. Half a night spent in a filthy attic didn't exactly make one presentable, and he still had to meet Detective Harper in another hour.

Showered and changed, he began dumping all his dirty clothes into a spare gym bag at his locker. Greg wasn't really surprised when Sara sat down next to him on the bench, obviously ready to talk.

"Got a minute?" she asked.

"Just one," Greg returned, as friendly as he could. "I've got to get to the station soon."

"I'm…" Sara started, but quickly stopped as the door opened and Catherine made her way inside.

"Hey guys," she called out. "Long night?"

"It was alright," Greg answered, stuffing his hands into his pockets and trying to look casual.

Sara was evidently having the same idea, crossing her arms in front of her and smiling awkwardly back at Catherine.

The combined effect made them both look suspect.

Catherine, having retrieved her purse, shut and leaned back against her locker surveying them both.

"Everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

They both nodded, looking more than guilty without reason.

"Alright then," Catherine said, "bye."

"Bye," Greg called out. Sara only waved.

Catherine shot them one more worried glance before leaving.

"Let's walk, okay?" Greg asked, indicating the door.

Sara nodded in agreement; they weren't going to have any type of private conversation where they were.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Sara said once they'd exited the building. "I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately and I was a bit short with you. And you were right, it isn't…"

"Sara," he said, interrupting her mid-sentence, "stop. Please, just stop. We're both tired. We're both overworked and stressed out and just doing too much. It's okay. I told you, the most important thing to me between us is our friendship."

Sara nodded and watched the sidewalk as they progressed up the street.

"A lot of this, probably all of it, is my fault," he went on. "I got you involved in this whole mess of an investigation, which, if we're lucky, we won't get fired over. And I kind of sprung the whole talk on you about how I feel without really thinking about how you felt or if it was right…"

"I'm glad you told me," Sara said, it being her turn to interrupt. "I am. And I wish… I wish it could be different."

"It can't stay like this though," Greg said as they approached the police station.

"No, it can't," Sara agreed as they came to a halt on the steps.

Greg felt washed over with emotion. It was all confusion. And looking into Sara's eyes, he knew she felt the same.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted. "We can't be fighting…"

"That won't happen again," she cut in quickly.

"Well, you may not do it. But I might."

Sara smiled. She'd been unreasonably jealous, she knew that. But still, she couldn't help but be pleased that Greg would have felt the same in her position.

"Can we…"

But before Greg could finishing asking whatever it was he was about to ask, a man called out his name.

"Sanders?"

Greg and Sara both turned and faced the unknown man.

"Detective Harper?" Greg guessed.

"Saul is fine," he said, extending a hand to him. "Al told me you'd stick out. He wasn't lying."

Greg laughed before introducing Sara.

Saul gave her an appraising look, one she'd seen before. Saul Harper, a still fit man in his late fifties, was what they'd call 'old-school'. Old school meaning he didn't take well to women doing men's work. Something she'd come to expect and accept, reluctantly.

"You looking into this too?" he asked her, apparently deciding she was alright.

"I'm helping," Sara returned.

"Then you may as well come along," he said. "Save Sanders the trouble of repeating it."

With that, Harper turned and headed inside leaving the two of them to follow in his wake. Leaving everything unsaid between them to wait for another time.