Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's reading this and having faith, even after that prologue;)


The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth


It is better to break one's heart than to do nothing with it.
--Margaret Kennedy


Ten months earlier

"Is it just me or are we getting a lot more of these cases lately?"

Sara patted the roof of the social worker's car. The little girl in the backseat was already asleep, clinging to the one ragged teddy bear she'd managed to carry from her family's trailer before it succumbed to flame and ash. The car drove off, followed a moment later by the police cruisers carrying her parents, under arrest for numerous charges, not the least of which would be child abuse, physical and, Sara suspected, sexual.

Only when they were left to the smoking remnants of the trailer did Sara answer Greg's question. "It's not just you."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Want me to take the perimeter?"

Something caught Sara's eye and she shook her head. "No. Take the interior. You need the experience. Come get me if you run into anything you don't know how to handle."

"You got it." He did everything but skip off, eager to get started.

She was halfway through a debate with herself about what to do next when she realized that the thing which had caught her eye was heading her way. Twenty seconds was all she had to get her thoughts in order. And then, there he was.

"Hi, Sara."

The one thing she was able to decide in that short amount of time was that she would take the high road. Bygones were bygones, and there was enough water under the bridge for her to be amiable. "Hi, Hank."

To his credit, he appeared massively uncomfortable. "Well, you said you'd see me around. Just took a long time, didn't it? Two years…"

"Three."

Hank nodded. "Yeah. Three." He paused. "How are you, Sara?"

What could she say about her life since they'd parted ways? Survived a lab explosion, held hostage by an insane rapist, busted for a DUI, and forced to come to term with the fact that her love for her boss wasn't entirely one-sided, but was completely fruitless? Not exactly great conversation starters. "I'm good," she said instead. "Really good."

"You look good. I like your hair…the layer thing."

She barely heard the compliment. His left hand was unadorned by a wedding band. "How's Elaine?"

"Ah…Elaine and I broke up. Several years ago." Hank shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Right after you and I…"

"She found out?" He inclined his head. "How?"

Hank looked away for a few seconds. "Did you ever wonder what happened to that polka-dotted bra you had?"

"I figured the laundry room gnomes at my complex took it." She caught his look and winced. "Guess not."

"Nope." Another moment passed. "Tough case, isn't it?"

Sara blinked at the sudden change in subject. "Always is where children are concerned. You were first on the scene. The little girl…"

"Checked her out for smoke inhalation," Hank said, gravely. "I noticed some…um…" He stopped short. "I'm sorry…I…"

"It's okay." She found herself almost reaching out for him. Old habits died very hard, apparently. "Just tell me so we can help her."

"Semen," he blurted out. "Fresh stains on her nightgown." His hands curled up into fists. "Are they taking her for an exam?"

"Yeah." Sara narrowed her eyes. "But we've got the bastard. He won't be allowed near her ever again."

"I was a bastard." Again, the subject change left her spinning for control. "I've thought about writing you a letter or something…but I never did. It didn't seem right. Figured I needed to work up the guts to apologize to your face." Hank looked her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Sara."

She cleared her throat. "I owe you an apology, too."

"No, Sara…"

"As much as you used me, I used you." Sara paused. "Although you were worse about it, just so you know."

He smiled. "I know."

Sara was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were surrounded by cops, firemen and paramedics, their colleagues who, if they had been around for any length of time, were bound to know something of their history. "I should get to work. It was…good to see you again, Hank."

"You, too." She'd just started to walk away when he called her back. "Sara, would you like to have dinner with me some night?"

Turning around, she gave him the most incredulous look she could ever remember conjuring. "Are you kidding?"

"You have absolutely no reason to trust me. But if you're not seeing someone right now…" He shrugged. "We had fun together, didn't we?"

"Up until I saw a picture of you on vacation with your real girlfriend," she shot back.

"I think that if I had met you first, there wouldn't have been an Elaine."

Sara stared at him until her eyes burned from lack of blinking. "Make sure you include the semen stain in your report," she said, curtly. "Have a nice night."


Several days later, Sara sat down to review the case with her supervisor, as required by the new lab policies. No one disputed the fact that it was a pain, but for Sara, it was a semi-weekly excuse to have Grissom's attention focused solely on her. There was a definite pathetic quality to that, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care.

"The results of the SAE kit?"

"Indicated long-term sexual abuse." Sara leaned across his desk to hand him the file. "She's six."

Grissom glanced over the report. "The important thing is that she's safe now."

"I'm not sure I'd call being a ward of the state 'safe,'" she said, darkly.

"You turned out just fine."

Sara swallowed. "You don't know everything that…" She let the thought die. "So, that's it. The father's being charged with everything possible, and the mother's going down for neglect, along with attempted murder."

"Good work, Sara." He closed up the files. "I was hesitant to give you this assignment, but you handled it extremely well."

"Were you expecting me to fall apart?"

Grissom removed his glasses. "Abused mother tries to kill abuser…"

"But only succeeded in burning down the house. Grissom…" Sara shook her head. "I don't draw comparisons between myself and every case that comes along. Maybe you shouldn't either."

"You're right. You have my apology for that." He sat back in his chair. "Well, now that we've got Ecklie's useless formality out of the way...it's as good a time as any to discuss your yearly evaluation."

Sara blinked. She wasn't prepared for this. "Yeah. Why not?" Grissom pulled open a drawer in his desk and extracted a book. "What's that?"

"Another of Ecklie's ideas." He read the title off the cover. "'Common Sense Supervision.' Apparently, I need help." Opening the book, he continued, "Okay. Let's start by me asking you…what do you think of your performance over the past year?"

"Oh. Um…well…I think I've done well."

Grissom pointed to a page in his book. "This says I should ask you to elaborate."

Sara bit back a smile. "Okay. I've performed up to my expectations and, hopefully, yours, too. I look back on the past year with satisfaction for a job well done."

"I agree that you should," he said. "You have an enviable solve rate and you've played a major role in helping train Greg."

"I've enjoyed that," Sara told him. "He's like a sponge, soaking up all the information I can give him. I get this crazy sense of pride when he uses something I taught him during an investigation, you know?"

He nodded, almost wistfully. "I completely understand."

"At least he hasn't started quoting me yet," she teased. "That must be so annoying."

"I don't know. I've always found it flattering."

It was the nicest, warmest moment they'd shared in months, if not years. Sara wanted to wrap herself up in it, making it her insulation for the next time he walked past her in the halls or flirted with Sofia at a crime scene.

Just then, Judy the receptionist, appeared in the open doorway. "Sara," she said. "There's someone out front asking for you."

"Who is it?"

"Hank Peddigrew."

His name had the power to bring the pleasant moment to a screeching halt. Sara's face felt hot as she sought out eye contact with Grissom. But he was already looking away, focusing on anything else he could. Anything but her.

"He says he needs to talk to…"

Sara cut her off. "Tell him I'm in the middle of something. Please." Judy nodded and left. Sara waited a few seconds. "Grissom, I…"

"Nick's due in here any minute for his evaluation," he said, coolly. "Unless there's anything you need to add to yours, you're free to go."

"Of course," she whispered. "Back to business as usual, right?"

He had no reply as she walked out of his office.


She was just stepping out of her post-work shower later that day when her phone started ringing. Securing a towel around her body, Sara ran to get it.

"Hello?"

"Sara. It's Hank."

"To a woman who doesn't know better, your persistence could probably be considered charming, rather than two steps away from stalker."

"Please just hear me out before you hang up on me."

She sat down on the edge of her bed. "You've got two minutes."

"I'd like to take you to dinner. We won't call it a date. I'll even make you pay for half of it, if that'll make you feel better," he said rapidly.

"Why?"

"Because even after our talk the other night, there's been no closure to our relationship." Hank paused. "It's just dinner, Sara."

"And conversation," she added.

"I miss our conversations."

"Well, I miss being able to say that I've never been the other woman." She let him hang for another minute before giving in. It wasn't as if her social calendar was exactly bursting. "One dinner. Friday night. Eight o'clock. My choice of restaurant. And you're paying for it all."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The scary thing was that she almost was, too.


To Be Continued