'I don't know, not now, 'he finally lifted his head up, 'Time will tell.'


Chapter 3; A framed picture.

A few days had passed, those days would become a few weeks. And after a month or two, there was still no sign from Grissom. There was only one option left if she wanted to end this ridiculous situation, a situation in which they were currently in.

So, there she was – standing outside his apartment, still doubting whether she should go inside or not. Catherine had told her where the spare key was hidden, since she had given hers back. She was always someone you could count on; Grissom had been walking around as an 'unemotional bastard', as Catherine would like to call it, and she was fed up with the argument between Sara and Gil. Obviously due to the fact that Grissom never spoke off it to her and she desperately wanted to know. She focused herself onto Sara, hunting for a weak and damaged prey as she was the hungry shark.

Eventually, Sara got the key and placed it into the lock. She turned it left, hoping he hadn't changed the locks. All of the sudden, the door swung open and she entered the mess that was his apartment. There were clothes, papers, and more, all across the living room and kitchen. She looked at the kitchen clock; It was passed 9 am.

'So he must be somewhere here', she thought to herself when she noticed the absence of a particular man she was looking for.

She made her way to the bedroom, softly opening the door as he might be asleep. However, she spotted him on the bed with his back directed at her, holding a picture frame. It almost seemed as if he was cherishing it with his thumb.

Sara walked up towards him, without saying a word. She seated herself upon the bed and, still, moved closer to him until she sat right next to him. She touched his shoulder with her hand, causing him to look over his shoulder, but only so far to see her hand. When he noticed it was her, the photograph frame slid through his fingers, falling upon the floor with a soft thud.

"You okay?', she asked.

He nodded as a response while looking at the picture in the frame.

She moved up a little closer to him until their legs touched each others, 'You wanna talk about it?'

He shook his head.

She followed his stare and found herself looking at the floor, she noticed the photograph frame. There was a picture inside it, a picture of them together, that is. One that had been made ages ago.

She smiled to herself for a second or two before speaking up, 'We need to talk about it, Grissom'.

'I know', he whispered in a husky and shallow voice.

They simply sat there for a couple of minutes, no one spoke. Either it was because she didn't know how to start the conversation or it was him not wanting to talk about it, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious about the son of a bitch who stole his woman, the woman he loved so dearly.

He suddenly lowered his head with his hands folded between his legs. He started to twirl his thumbs.

He coughed and raised his voice, 'Who is he?', he suddenly said with his thumbs twirling around, touching each other after every circle or pass they made.

'Someone you haven't heard off, I'm sure'.

'Try me'.

'Well,' Sara pouted her lips in thought, 'His name is Marcus Cato'.

Grissom scoffed, 'Ironic, what does he look like?'

'He's about 6 foot, dark brown hair, brown eyes – about the average, normal guy.'

He nodded in agreement but couldn't refuse to answer bitterly, 'I see'.

'Grissom, it had never meant to happen. Marcus and I are just friends.'

'Friends as in the bedroom or just friends?'

'Just friends. I can't believe you, you would genuinely think I would be capable of doing something as that?!'

'Well, you still slept with him anyway. I never thought you were capable of doing something as that while being in a relationship with someone else!'

'Dammit Grissom, do you want to talk this out or do you want to argue until we're both retired?'

He sighed, 'Alright Sara, let's talk.'

She focused at his still twirling thumbs, 'It's not that I don't have feelings for you, Grissom, I really do. It's just that –'

'Yes, yes, he was at the right time, at the right moment. I know this already', he cut her off.

'Well, yes. It just happens and I'm so sorry, Grissom. Do you think you can forgive me?'

'I've been thinking a lot about that too, Sara; wondering if I could or couldn't'.

She bit on her lip, afraid of what the answer might be. She didn't want to be rejected since she loved him so much but was he aware of this? Was he even aware that she had any feelings for him at all?

A/N:
If you're a kind person, hit that review button and tell me your opinion about this story so far, I'd love to hear it, seriously!

The reason why Grissom scoffs, is that 'Marcus' means 'Mars, the God of War' and 'Cato' means 'The wise one'.
I didn't feel like over dramatizing the whole story in this chapter, not based on what's coming next anyways. Will Grissom be able to forgive her?; Stay tuned folks!
p.s. I know, my English sucks! I'll try to discover some mistakes that I made in the morning, see ya people.