Hi all! Apologies, as always, for the wait! I've been very busy with work. However, I have finally managed to get caught up and have had some time today to plan out the next few chapters. I'm going to take the story in a slightly different direction than I'd initially planned, but I hope you like it :)
She sighed, sinking carefully into the worn seat behind her desk.
It had been a very long day and she desperately needed to offload to someone. However, as she scrolled idly through her phone contacts, she found herself completely without potential companions.
Lindsey was still sulking about being grounded due to her suspension and her mother was still blaming her for the child's behaviour; so they were both out of the question. The boys had already clocked off for the day, and Jim wasn't even working tonight so she could scratch them from the list, as well.
She hovered over Sara's name and a brief smile graced her lips, before Nancy' words flooded back to her mind and she quickly kept scrolling.
Ever since Nancy's critical analysis of her behaviour around Sara, Catherine had found herself avoiding both her sister and the troubled young brunette. It wasn't that she was giving any credence to Nancy's thoughts, of course; she just thought it best to keep her distance for a while.
Unfortunately for her, fate had other ideas tonight. The light rap on her door went unnoticed, but she did catch the sound of someone softly clearing their throat and looked up to find the very woman leaning against her door frame with a lazy grin.
"Hey, night shift here already?" She queried, that tell-tale smile sneaking back onto lips.
"Almost. I'm early." Sara shrugged, sidling into the office and leaning across the back of a chair opposite the desk. "I just wanted to check in; it feels like ages since we caught up."
"Yeah, well..." Catherine replied vaguely, feeling her cheeks heating up.
Sara frowned at her peculiar attitude, but brushed it off for the time being.
"How's Lindsey coping with her suspension?"
Catherine choked out a bitter laugh, almost relieved at the change in subject.
"Judging by the sullen silence emanating from her room for the last few days, I'd say she's not coping too well. But since she isn't speaking to me, it's hard to say for sure."
"I'm sure she'll get over it, eventually." Sara tried to commiserate. "I mean, she has to eat, right?"
Catherine laughed, rolling her eyes.
With the atmosphere becoming increasingly awkward, Sara straightened up and slipped her hands into her pockets.
"Well, I'd better get to assignments." She smiled tightly. "Have a good night."
Catherine pursed her lips, considering letting the conversation die there; but there was a question she had been itching to ask and she just couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Hey Sar," She called out before the brunette could disappear. "How ... how are things going with Belinda? You've had a couple of sessions already, right?"
The younger CSI exhaled, clearly contemplating her response carefully.
"It was weird, at first." She acknowledged. "But, she is really good at her job and she does know how to get me to talk; as a counsellor, this time. Nothing more."
Catherine knew that she should have felt reassured by the soft smile, but the idea of Belinda worming her way back into Sara's affections – even in a purely professional capacity – left a distinctly unsettled feeling in her stomach.
"Okay." She nodded, clamping down on the jealousy bubbling through her system. "Well, as long as you're talking to someone."
Even if it's not me.
She waited until Sara had slipped back out of the office before lamenting that last fleeting thought. Why should she care who Sara confides in?
Casting an exhausted glace at the stack of uncompleted paperwork on her desk, she decided that it could wait another day and snatched up her bag from the floor.
If she didn't have anyone to complain to, at least drown her sorrows in a few strong drinks.
Sara felt the skin on the back of her neck bristle and swallowed around the lump in her throat. Something about these places always made her feel uncomfortable.
Trying to shake the shivers away, she attempted to focus on the job at hand; but kept catching herself glancing over her shoulder into the deserted hospital corridor.
Deciding to try an old trick, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath – re-centring herself – before flicking her eyes open and letting them latch onto the first thing in her line of sight.
It was a technique that her previous boss in San Francisco had taught her, and it was something she still found useful when her ghosts started to get in the way of her work.
In this instance, the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a small hand-painted rock masquerading as a paperweight. With her work-head securely back in place and her instincts refocused, she allowed her intrigue to take over and picked up the rock.
The top was smooth, with a crude love heart daubed in red. Underneath, J & A had been carved into the flat base with a sharp object.
Replacing the stone, she allowed her trained eyes to dance over the rest of the objects cluttering up the nurses' station. A photo tucked between two sheets of paper caught her eye and she slipped it out. She recognised the young man as one of the patients, although it appeared to have been taken when he was in his early teens.
So engrossed was she in her snooping, she failed to hear the gentle padding of slippered feet on the tiled floor, or the soft click of the door as it latched closed ...
She wasn't sure whether it was the dingy lights sporadically hanging above the bar or the vodka martini she'd already poured down her throat, but the man beside her was starting to look more and more attractive by the minute.
At first, she had only agreed to share a drink with him out of a burning need for some company; but she was surprised to find herself flattered by the attention of the older man.
However, as much fun as she was having, she couldn't shake the guilt eating away at her. She should be at home with her daughter – a daughter who was in desperate need of some firm parenting at the moment.
When her drinking mate made to buy another round, she quickly placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
"I really need to get home." She said, somewhat reluctantly. "Thanks for the drink, though. I needed this."
"Well," he delved into his pocket and produced a matchbook with a phone number scribbled on the back. "Next time you find yourself in need of a drink, give me a call."
She highly doubted that she would ever see him again, but she accepted the matchbook with a gracious smile non-the-less.
Bidding him goodnight, she hopped off her stool and began contemplating how to weave her way through the crowd that had begun encroaching on the limited space around the bar, when she felt the man's hand on her back.
"It's kind of busy now." He said, leaning close to her ear in order to be heard. "Let me walk you to your car."
The evening was colder than she anticipated, with a hint of drizzle still hanging in the air and she wrapped her jacket around herself a little tighter.
"Wow." Her companion commented with a little laugh as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I think we can safely say that winter's nearly here."
As they reached her car, she stepped out from his embrace and smiled shyly.
"Thanks for the drink." She echoed her earlier sentiment, toying nervously with her car keys.
"Thanks for joining me." He shrugged with a serpentine grin. Holding her ocean blue gaze for an obligatory second, he slowly leant in and captured her lips in a kiss. It started sweet, just testing the waters; but when she didn't pull away, he pushed her back against the car and forced his tongue between her lips.
Initially, she allowed him to take the embrace further; but when she felt a pair of cold hands sneak under her shirt and come to rest on the base of her spine, she found herself crashing back to reality and pushed him away.
"I'm sorry, I can't do this tonight. I'll call you." She mumbled unapologetically, turning her back on him and unlocking the car with slightly trembling hands.
However, before she could get it open more than an inch, it was slammed shut again and the man moulded himself to her back , the voice hissing in her ear suddenly colder than it had been before.
"What the hell is your problem?"
Feeling herself sobering up, Catherine attempted to force the door open, but she was no match to his strength.
"Go to hell." She spat, turning away from him as much as his position would allow and putting all her effort into pulling the door open.
Unexpectedly, he removed his hand from the car and the door swung open with more force than she anticipated.
Her face stung where the sharp metal corner gashed her cheek and she inhaled sharply at the pain.
Realising what he had done, the man took a step back and let her get into the car.
"You know what you are?" He offered a final parting shot, holding his hands up as if to dismiss her. "You're a fucking tease."
She watched him turn on his heel and swagger back towards the bar, before slamming the car door shut and locking it.
Switching on the car's interior light, she checked out her injury in the mirror. It was bleeding, but not heavily. Her head swam from the impact and it did occur to her that she probably shouldn't be driving – alcohol mixed with a minor concussion probably wasn't the best combination.
Extracting her cell phone, she made to call a cab, when the screen lit up of its own accord. In her confused state, it took her a minute to realise that it was ringing.
"Willows." She answered, trying her damndest to sound sober and clear-headed and failing at both.
At first the flustered young man on the end of the line wasn't making any sense to her, and she had to ask him to repeat himself. But when his words finally registered, any thoughts of her own injury fell off the radar.
Throwing the phone onto the passenger seat and not even bothering to switch the car light off, she slammed the car into gear and tore out of the Highball parking lot like a bullet out of the chamber.
Once again, Lindsey was going to have to wait. But this time, she had a damn good reason.