Author's Notes: Wow, it's been months! I didn't think I'd finish this today, it's been one of those rough days, but after watching two CSI reruns, I was inspired. :D. Hope someone's still reading this, I love to know what you guys are thinking, so don't hesitate to review! No beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Jenny

Chapter Four:

Sara yawned, stretching slightly in an attempt to crack her sore back. Her head was throbbing slightly as her weary bones creaked with every move. She wasn't surprised at her body's poor response to the physical demands she was placing on it, after all, she had been crouching on the floor for nearly 3 hours, barely moving as she worked.

Homicides were always tricky, even more so when you had more than one victim. Stifling a second yawn, she ran the fingerprinting brush against her black pants leg, too tired to care if it spilled elsewhere. She had learned, through many years and ruined clothes, that dark colors were always a better choice when dealing with any sort of spray or powder.

Right now, she just needed the instrument clean enough to shove back into her kit, she'd worry about procedural equipment care later.

"I've got nothing useful, what did you find?"

Sara turned, offering Greg a weak smile as she rose on achy knees to face him, "Enough prints to guarantee none of the fingerprint techs will speak to us for a week."

"Is that a blessing or a curse?" Greg joked, "How can one house have so many prints?"

Sara shrugged, "I have no idea. Even if they were the sloppiest housekeepers in the universe, it shouldn't be this hard to collect prints. I've dusted furniture where children have played, and come up with less smudges and prints. Party, maybe?"

"Tons of overlooked suspects? That would be our luck." Greg groaned, nodding towards the door, "Ready to take a break? Catherine picked up some sandwiches and I'm sure she's willing to share."

Sara shook her head, motioning towards the blood spatter on the opposite side of the room, "I haven't even touched that mess yet, I've got my work cut out for me. Save me something, I'll take a break later."

Greg sighed, giving Sara a stern, yet worried, glare, "Are you sure? You need to keep up your strength...it won't do anyone any good if you starve to death at our crime scene."

"Oh, right, because eating one meal late will make me starve to death." Sara replied sarcastically, with a hint of a smile, "Don't worry Greg, I'll be fine. I am just beyond ready to get out of here, and the sooner we finish, the sooner we can head out to the lab...unless, of course, you're in the mood to work a double? Or a triple?"

"Point taken." Greg replied with a smirk as he made a motion to turn, "Yell if you need something."

With a small smile on her face, Sara pulled a swab from her kit, taking a sample of blood and placing it with the stack of evidence she had already collected. It was nice to be worried about, even if it did get irritating after awhile. When Grissom was around, he was caring, to an extent, but never actually worried about her. Greg, on the other hand, might as well be the self-care police, always waiting to tell her she wasn't doing everything she was supposed to be doing. She often complained to him about babying her, but secretly she felt warm inside every time he chastised her. She had never been cared before like she had been over the last few weeks.

She was certain it was just because he didn't know how else to help, and that it wouldn't last, but for the meanwhile, she was happy to have someone looking out for her. She couldn't go a day without thinking about how lucky she was to have him as a best friend.

"So where do you need me?"

Sara looked up with a goofy grin, "I thought you were going to eat lunch?"

"And leave you here to work all alone?" Greg teased, "The sandwich can wait."

Sara raised an eyebrow, bringing her free hand to her chest, "Oh my, I never thought I'd hear Greg Sanders utter those words. Next you'll be telling me you quit reading those smutty magazines."

"I just read the articles." Greg laughed, opening his kit, "Catherine swore she'd die if she didn't eat right now, so she's going to finish her food and come take over while we eat. This is the last room left to process, so when we're done with this, we can go back to the lab."

Sara stretched slightly, pulling out her camera and snapping a few photos, "I never thought I say this, but...I can't wait. I guess I've gotten out of shape or something in the last few weeks, but my back is killing me and I can't wait to get home."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sara Sidle?" Greg joked, mockingly putting his hand to her forehead, "You can't possibly be the Sara I've been knowing for the last 7 years."

"Haha." Sara replied dryly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "Bindle me?"

Greg reached into his kit, handing Sara a bindle as she turned her attention back to work. After a few moments of silence, he whispered, "You're really amazing."

"What?" Sara asked, looking over her shoulder with a quizzical look, "Are you feeling okay?"

Greg shook his head, a sheepish grin appearing as he met her gaze, "You really are. You've been through hell the last couple of weeks, and here you are, as focused as ever. If I were in your shoes, I don't know if I'd even be able to function."

"Sure, because crying on your shoulder every night and barely forcing myself to eat constitutes functioning." Sara replied dryly, "I have to focus on this, it's important. If I screw up, the case can be thrown out. Just because I'm having a hard time doesn't mean that it's okay for justice to be forgotten."

Greg's smile widened as he winked at her, "That, right there, is what makes you amazing. Grissom was a lucky man."

Sara's smile faded at the mention of Grissom's name, and Greg resisted the urge to kick himself for bringing up such a sore subject. She remained silent as she turned back to her work, reaching for a second swab in her kit, her hand trembling ever so slightly.

"Sara, I'm sorry--"

"Forget it." Sara replied, her voice thick with emotion, "I know you didn't mean anything."

Unable to come up with a decent response, Greg only nodded, moving to the wall to conduct measurements while Sara continued with the blood pool. While the silence was tense and uncomfortable, it was a lot safer than trying to come up with something witty to say and just making the situation worse. Ever since he was a young child, he hated to be around someone in such emotional pain, he had a terrible way of making things exponentially worse.

He was so involved in his work that he barely noticed as Catherine walked into the room. Both he and Sara jumped when the older woman started to speak, "Are we just about done here?"

"I'm finished." Sara replied, snapping her kit shut and rising to her feet from the squatting position she had assumed, "Greg?"

"I'm done." Greg added, sliding off his gloves with a snap and sealing them in a clear evidence envelope, "Hey Sara, notice how she comes back from lunch just in time to miss all of the work?"

"Keep talking, funny one, I'm the one signing off on your evaluation." Catherine retorted with a smirk, "Since we're through, you two can eat on the way back to the lab. Unless, of course, Greg has any more smart comments to make?"

Sara grinned, nudging Greg with her shoulder, "She put you in your place."

"She may have one the battle, but--"

"There are no wars on my shift." Catherine interrupted, "We'll head back to the lab, Greg, I want you with me in autopsy, Sara, I want you to start logging in evidence, disburse what is needed to Hodges and Wendy, get the prints to whoever's on shift. I want the three of us to get home on time today, so let's just keep focused and push forward."

Catherine turned to walk away, shaking her head as she heard Greg mutter, "She wants to go home to her kid, so we have to eat in the car."

As Catherine reached for the doorknob, she couldn't help but notice that this was the first time she had heard Sara laugh in ages.

--

"I just don't understand," Greg spoke through a mouthful of cheeseburger, "How can you not like meat? Sure, it's some innocent animal, but what about those innocent vegetables, saturated in pesticides?"

Sara rolled her eyes, stabbing a stem of broccoli with her fork as she stared across the table at Greg, "Vegetables don't have heartbeats, they don't leave behind carcasses."

"Tell that to the poor Momma-Broccoli who sacrificed her son for you to eat dinner tonight." Greg replied, taking a sip of his soda, "You've broken apart a family."

"On the contrary, I'm going to eat her too." Sara laughed, motioning to a larger stalk, "And the cow that your hamburger is an offspring of?"

"Natural causes." Greg replied, "I got her permission, before her death, to partake in her child's muscle."

Sara raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain a straight face as she asked, "Greg Sanders? Cow-Whisperer?"

"You did good tonight." Greg spoke, after a few moments of silence, "I'm glad to see that you're starting to move forward."

Sara shrugged, glancing down at the table, "Bound to happen, right? I can't just sit in my apartment and feel sorry for myself, it won't change the past. I figured there has to be a point where I just suffer through the pain and start functioning again." she cleared her throat, brushing a tear away from her eye, "It was a lot easier to work with Catherine than I had expected it to be."

"She's not as bad as you think she is."

"To you." Sara snorted, "Everyone knows there is no love lost between the two of us."

Greg shrugged, nibbling on a french fry, "You've both grown a lot over the last 7 years...you both lost someone you were really close to. Grissom may have been your boyfriend, but he was her best friend."

"I know." Sara replied softly, sipping her water as she stared at the checkered pattern of the diner table, "Earlier...you told me I was amazing?"

"Yeah?"

Sara smiled, glancing up to meet Greg's gaze, "You're pretty amazing too."

TBC