Disclaimer: I own absolutely none of this. Poor Immi.

AN: Yay! I'm in a sour mood! I just got my tri-weekly blood test! And guess what? My entire right arm turned purple! How cool and disturbing is that?!

I walk out of the locker room in some sort of a daze, walking towards the break room. I really want that drink.

I didn't know that Catherine thought of me as a friend. I mean, when it comes to us, civil is about as warm as fuzzy as it gets.

Really, the conversation we just had was the friendliest one in months. And she started out looking like she wanted to kill something.

This is really bad. I think loving my mortal enemy was a bit healthier. Well, not healthier, but…

Actually, this whole thing sucks. I really want that drink right about now.

I've reached the break room, and Greg immediately bounces up to defend his precious coffee.

"I'm still not letting you near my coffee until you tell me- hey, are you all right?" He stops mid sentence, noticing my far-from-happy expression.

I nod- half-collapsing into a chair- not really sure what I should say. Greg cocks his head to one side and eyes me speculatively.

Then he sits down next to me, still staring.

"Boredom can cause depression, you know. And Grissom hasn't let us do anything interesting all week, so things are bound to be dreary." He stops for a second and places a finger under his chin. Then he perks up and snaps his fingers.

"I got it! It's not that we don't have anything to do! It's that we don't have anyone to do! Let's go to a bar and get trashed!"

I blink. Did he really just say that?

"Of course, for you, it would have to be a gay bar… But we can still make this work! Do you think Nick's sick of being a straight cowboy yet?"

One pinch doesn't mean anything, right? Oh God…

"Greg! No getting drunk in a gay bar!"

He pouts. "But… but… I had everything planned out so perfectly! How can you just ignore my genius solution?"

I sigh and lean back in my chair. "Sorry, Greg, but boredom isn't really my problem at the moment."

He perks up again. "Then what's up? You look worse than Ecklie at the moment."

I stay quiet for a few moments, once again at a loss for words. Then I blurt out what's been on my mind for the last ten minutes.

"We're friends."

Greg looks at me oddly. "Well, yes, otherwise I would never dream of putting up with you-"

"Not us; me and Catherine. She said I'm her friend."

For a second, neither of us says a word. Greg is staring at me blankly.

"This is a bad thing, isn't it?"

I nod, smiling a little at the understatement.

"Did you like the 'getting trashed' part of my plan?"

"So you're her friend. When did that happen?"

I shrug, carelessly letting some of my beer splash out of the bottle. "I figured that you might know more about that than I do. I completely missed it until she actually told me."

"That's weird. Usually you're the first one to get anything Catherine-related. You would think you would figure out that you were her friend before then."

I wince. He's right. I notice absolutely everything about Catherine. I'm not really sure how I missed this. I'm completely obsessed with the woman, and I'm also a CSI. I should have picked up on something.

"So… you wanna change the topic before we get completely wasted? If we keep on talking about Cath, then I'll have to put up with you ranting about how gorgeous she is and how much you love her. That was only interesting the first dozen times, Sara."

I attempt to throw a pillow at his head, but it misses. I should have eaten something today.

"Fine. How's your love life?"

He makes a face and lets his head fall over the couch. "Ugh. You really know how to choose the happy topics, don't you?"

I shrug again. He hadn't made any topic suggestions, so I picked one for him.

"Well, I have a cute new neighbor that cons me into turtle-watching."

"Turtle-watching?"

"Yeah… she has a pet turtle who hates me. Every time I come near it, it tries to get out of its tank and attack me. Vicious little thing."

"And you still watch said turtle?"

Apparently, Greg had some food before his alcohol. His pillow hits me right in the face, and I narrowly avoid spilling beer all over me.

"I said that she cons me into it- sheesh, Sara!"

I smirk at him, and he glares back fiercely.

"Can't we talk about something else- besides our oh so depressing lack of girlfriends?"

"Sadly, that's pretty much all I can think of." Did you really have to bring up the fact that both of us have lousy love lives, Greggo? For a second I almost managed to forget about Catherine.

Catherine and her gorgeous eyes… her beautiful strawberry blonde hair… her luscious body… her-

"Good grief."

I can feel my blush as I tear away from my thoughts and look back at Greg. He looks like an extremely amused Cheshire cat. That can't be good.

"What?"

"You're drooling."

I try to hide my growing blush by taking another swig of beer. There are certain disadvantages to having Greg as a best friend.

As the night goes on, we both get progressively drunker. Greg has fallen off of the couch, and is currently ogling the ceiling while he sings something under his breath.

I'm still on the couch, staring out into space. And thinking about Catherine. I do that way too much for my own good. But, in my defense, pretty much anything I think about is going to spark some misery. At least with Catherine I can think of the times she's smiled at me before thinking that we'll never be together, and even if through some miracle we did end up together, I'd ruin it.

"Hey Sar? Who's your favorite Scooby-Doo character?"

I guess Greggo got tired of singing.

"Favorite what character?"

"Scooby-Doo. You know… Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you? We got some work to do now. Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you? We need some help from you now… Scooby-Doo. Favorite character?"

"Greg, what the hell are you talking about?"

Greg pops up, head wobbling slightly. "You've never seen Scooby-Doo? What sort of deprived childhood did you have?"

I honestly have no idea why I say it, but I do.

"Oh, just the sort where my Dad beat the crap out of me pretty much every day while my Mom stood back and did nothing- oh wait, no, occasionally she'd join in. And I guess she did kill the bastard, so that's something."

Greg has completely frozen. He obviously didn't expect that.

I can't help it; I continue talking.

"You know, it's probably a good thing Cath doesn't have any feelings for me. I'd just end up ruining her life with all of my issues. She's better off without me."

My face feels wet. Funny. I don't remember crying.

I'm still looking at Greg. He doesn't look too good. I guess the alcohol and the outburst was a little much for him. He'll probably leave any second. I close my eyes and wait for the sound of my door opening.

It doesn't come. I hear footsteps, but they aren't heading away. I open my eyes again and watch as Greg walks over to the couch and wraps his arms around me- all the while muttering comforting nonsense. For a second I freeze, but then I curl into him and let my silent sobs rack our bodies.

God, this is screwed up.