The coffee shop was quiet for a mid-week afternoon. It was also far enough away from the lab that they were unlikely to be overlooked by anyone they knew.

She saw Sara enter and scan the small space analytically, before spotting Catherine in the corner booth and sidling reluctantly over to join her.

"Hey." She greeted softly, sitting down and immediately averting her gaze. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"I do." Cath agreed, nudging the latte towards her and receiving a mumbled thanks.

"If this is about Belinda, I already spoke to her."

Catherine cocked her head to the side, pleasantly surprised that Sara was willing to start talking first. Realising that it was probably going to be easier to let Sara control the conversation, for the time being at least, she sat back and folded her hands on the table.

"What did she say?"

"She was upset." Sara took a deep breath, nursing her coffee mug between her hands. "She didn't want anyone else to know, and now she's worried that she's going to lose her job."

"That might not be such a bad thing." Cath noted with a sarcastic eye-roll.

"She's a good counsellor, Catherine." Sara countered, finally meeting her gaze. "She really helped me when I was feeling completely out of control."

Catherine pursed her lips, sitting forwards and crossing her arms.

"And, you feel in control right now?"

Sara didn't answer, choosing instead to make patterns in the foam on top of her coffee with a wooden stirrer.

"Sara." Cath pressed gently, placing a hand on the table in front of her colleague. Sara looked away again.

"It's been hard, since we broke up. But I'm getting there."

"What exactly did she say when you told her that you were ending all contact?"

Sara shrugged non-committally.

"Sara." Cath pushed again.

"I told you, she was upset."

Catherine narrowed her eyes, scanning them across her friend's face as if Sara were a suspect in an interrogation.

"Did she hurt you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Sara lifted her eyes towards the ceiling and sighed.

"She lost her temper, alright. She cleared her desk onto the floor, but she didn't hurt me. We had words and I left. It's over."

Catherine took a minute to scrutinise Sara's face and her words, before nodding satisfactorily.

"Good."

They fell into an awkward silence, with neither of them quite sure where to go from here. They had never exactly been friends, save for a couple of drinks after work without the boys. But even then, conversation had been light and they usually drank in companionable silence.

Eventually, Sara cautiously met her colleague's stare across the table again.

"Since I've played by your rules, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Cath shrugged, relieved to have some discussion again.

"I want a straight answer." Sara insisted, causing Catherine's eyes to narrow.

"Alright. What is it?"

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

Catherine sucked in a breath and straightened up.

"You mean, am I going to report her to Grissom? Or Ecklie?" She clarified, watching the studious hazel eyes twitch in acknowledgement that her summary was correct. "No, I'm not."

Sara visibly relaxed, letting her eyes close for a second.

"Thank you."

"Just do me a favour, okay." She continued. "Don't shut us out in the future. We care about you, Sara – use is."

A small smile tugged at Sara's lips, but it didn't quite reach her glistening orbs.

"I'll try."

It wasn't a promise – deliberately so – but it was something, and Catherine took it.

Nancy slumped onto the bench at the nurses' station, taking a moment to catch her breath and pin a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

One of her colleagues, propped up behind the desk, noticed her appearance.

"How's Mr Timmons?" She asked, putting her folder down.

"Constipated." Nancy replied exasperatedly. "And bitching about it like you wouldn't believe!"

The other nurse grinned, visibly pleased that she had not picked that particular case file from the stack of manila folders balanced precariously on the edge of the bench.

"Honestly, if I have to spend one more minute listening to him complain, I'm going to commit murder with that bedpan."

As she spoke, she cast a lazy glance over the staff roster. Then, straightening up, she was about to leave when she stalled, her eyes dragging back over the list of names more carefully.

"Who's Belinda Bell?"

"She's the new part-time psych nurse." Her colleague explained. "She's doing cover for Kate, while she's on maternity."

"Where's she from?" Nancy pressed, her mind working overtime. Surely, it couldn't be?

"Not sure. Apparently she comes very highly recommended though – she also works for the police as their counsellor."

"Is that right." Nancy nodded slowly, chewing on her lower lip.

An unexpectedly cool breeze whistled between them as they strolled down the road, neither making eye contact and both trying to find something to say.

"I've been trying to remember all the times I saw you with her," Catherine said at last, burying her hands in her pockets. "And there's one that I keep coming back to. You were in a lab at the end of your shift. She was talking to you and then she left you alone. You were crying."

Sara tilted her head towards the sky, trying to recall the incident.

"It had been a bad case and it had just brought up some harsh memories." She explained. "She picked the wrong moment to try and talk to me – she touched a nerve."

Cath sent her a sympathetic look.

"She upset you."

"She said I was losing my mind." Sara shot her the briefest of sideways glances.

"Well, that's nice from a psychiatric specialist." Cath scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head.

"She just said it to get a reaction."

Catherine glanced at her from beneath her lashes, sensing that there was more to that statement. Sure enough, the silent question in her movements worked and Sara swallowed hard before continuing quietly.

"My mom has schizophrenia. Mental health is kind of a sensitive topic for me."

"I bet. But you're not schizophrenic." Catherine softened her tone.

"No? Sometimes I feel like it." Sara admitted, shuddering; although Cath didn't know whether it was the cold or the topic of conversation causing her discomfort.

Catherine caught her wrist and tugged her to a stop, turning to face her.

"Sara, you know where I am if you ever need to talk right? I may not have a psychology degree, but I promise I'll never make you feel like that."

Sara smiled, a genuine smile this time that lit up her face in a way that Catherine realised she hadn't seen in far too long.