She wakes to the sound of her doorbell ringing. Scrambling to her feet she wonders who it might be, curses when she remembers her gun is in lock up, then chides herself for contemplating the use of it. There's a knock, someone's getting impatient.
"Hold on, I'm coming" she shouts, fazed at the hoarseness of her own voice.
She spies through the peephole and is shocked at the who she sees. She opens the door, revealing the lanky form of Sara Sidle standing just a few steps ahead of her.
"Hi," the brunette greets. All confused Sofia doesn't manage anything beyond "Hi yourself."
Questions are plastered across her features but she's unable to form words. So she stares at her visitor, awaiting an explanation.
It doesn't matter that they are standing in the doorway, she's in no state to let the other woman enter. Not if she came for more bullshit psychologist advice, not if she came to take pity on her, not if...what if she came to tell her they've proven her guilty? That it was her gun, that she indeed shot Bell? Sofia staggers, her head spinning, her knees weak. Sara reaches out for her. Steadies her arm, eyes her with concern.
"Can I come in?" she askes, "You should sit down" Sit down? That usually means bad news, a part of Sofia's brain registers, but in reality, she wasn't expecting good news in the first place.
Despite herself she allows Sara to lead her inside, close the door behind them and lead them to the living room. Sitting down Sofia's cat approaches them, curiously investigating the unfamiliar visitor. That gives Sofia time to collect herself and when Sara reaches her hand to the purring cat she seizes the moment to question her presence.
"Not to sound rude, but what brings you here?" Sara looks up. "Several things" she says in a non-answer, continuing to pet the furball by her feet. "Does she have a name?" she asks as if the other question had been answered. Sofia is confused, and angry. But she plays along, not receiving the answer she wants, she won't provide one of her own. "How do you know it's a she?" she challenges.
"Just a guess," Sara shrugs "So?"
They're both quiet.
"Eleanor." she speaks up finally "Now, what about those several things?" Sara is tempted to ask about the unusual name but senses it's not the time. Sofia wants answers, needs answers, so that is what she will get.
"We reenacted the scene." She can see the suspense on Sofia's face, how she's afraid and how she's angry that she didn't tell her immideately. And there's confusion. She might have suspected Grissom to come with the news, or Ortega, Brass, anyone.
"It wasn't you" the most pressing piece of information at first.
"You'll be cleared, they should contact you soon." she looks at the blonde, detached, confused, relieved, and still full of questions unanswered. "Actually I wasn't supposed to tell you, Grissom wanted to report his finding to you when he's back from Brass but I wanted to tell you"
"Why?" Sofia lets out, referring to many things at once. Why did she want to tell her? Why Brass? Why wasn't she the shooter when she was so sure it had been her?
Sara responds to a lot of those questions, telling her what happened, what they found out, how they were sure Sofia was absolutely uninvolved in the death of Officer Bell.
In the end, Sofia is still left to wonder why Sara was the one to bring the news, why she is suddenly showing concern, why she's holding her hand and looking at her the way only a friend would, or maybe a mother, a sister, a lover.
"I'm sorry." she almost doesn't recognize the words. They are whispred in a tone so unlike Sara, Sofia thinks she's imagining them. "When you came to Grissom, I didn't mean to be rude to you, belive it or not, I was trying to give advice to you. It didn't sound that way, I know. And then you snapped at me, about not having friends, and that hurt. So I thought, maybe that is what you need now, what we both need, a friend I mean."
Sara leaves the sentence hanging in the air, heavy between them. Surprise is written all over the detective, she's never heard Sara talk so much at once, unless of course it was case related information. She's never known her to reach out to people, either. She's always been the quiet one, appearantly not wanting friendships, she'd brushed Sofia off on more than one occasion in the past. And now that sudden change?
"It's okay, if you don't want to." she speaks again, obviously taking the long silence for a rejection. "I just thought...I wanted to see how you were doing...never mind, you got Eleanor after all, right?" She smiles awkwardly, ready to get up when a hand on her arm stops her.
"Wait, stay." Sofia wonders where the words come from but she doesn'r really try to stop them. "You're right, I could really do with a friend. I..." She's interrupted by the phone ringing.
"Sorry" she directs at her companion before answering. It's Ortega telling her to drop by his office. She doesn't ask for a reason, for she already knows.
It's only a few seconds after she got up that she sits back down on her sofa next to Sara. "Ortega." she smiles by way of explaining, only to have the brunette nod. "Um...I guess, since you made a start I should apologize as well, I was out of line when I snapped at you, I was..." "desperate" Sara offers. "It's ok, no need for excuses. I think we should just get over it"
"Ok," She states, confused but glad that Sara isn't making things complicated.
They're silent once more, both slightly unsure of the situation. You don't usually decide to just become friends over night. "I...I don't want to throw you out or anything but Ortega expects me in his office in a few..." It's not the best thing to say, but it's true. And she needs more time to get used to the idea of opening up to Sara.
"Alright," the other woman replies. "I'll go then, I'll see you, I guess." Sofia accompanies her to to the door, followed by the ever devoted cat.
"Thanks for stopping by" what more can she say?
"No problem," Sara smiles, friendly, something Sofia isn't used to from the brunette. "If there's anything I can do for you...you got my number, right?"
"Yeah." she smiles, "Got it."
"Ok, then, good luck with Ortega, and don't worry" There's so many things she would like to tell Sofia, still a lot unsaid, but she won't push, it's not like her. She knows when she's asked to leave. So she turns, throwing a "bye" and a half smile over her shoulder and watches from the corner of her eyes how Sofia picks up the cat and closes the door.