Chapter Two: Thoughts

They had pulled a double that day, and yet had only started on the case. Ecklie wanted the case closed in three days; something they might be able to accomplish if they pulled a double every day till then. During that time, Greg barely said a word to Sara, talking only when it was needed, and answering her with short nods of his head. His usual zest was no longer present, and if Sara noticed, she didn't say anything about it.

He didn't stop anywhere on the way home, and he had left the lab shortly after clocking off. To make matters worse, his usual parking spot was taken, leaving him with no choice but to park in the lot across the street. It had started to rain when he left the lab, so by the time he reached his door, he was thoroughly soaked.

He wasn't surprised to find his fridge nearly empty. Greg had originally planned to swing by the store and pick some food up, but the double shift had changed those plans. Depressed, tired, wet and now hungry, Greg pulled a beer from the near empty shelf, closing the refrigerator door before making his way over to the couch.

At first he just sat in the darkness of his own apartment, trying to think things through, in order to get a better understanding of everything. He knew he had been little more than a complete jerk today, and coming to that realization was making him feel even worse. Just because he was jealous didn't mean he had to treat Sara like that. After all, she was still his friend; she deserved to be treated better than that. This was why it would have never worked between them. If Greg couldn't give Sara enough credit and trust for who she saw, then he didn't deserve to have her.

Taking another long drink from the beer bottle, Greg reached over for the remote, switching the television on. He was hoping to find something to take his mind off everything for a few hours. Oprah was on the channel, and Greg frowned as he turned the volume level up.

"…and you didn't know that she was seeing another man this entire time?"

Flipping to the next channel he found it at a commercial. "Henry's Flower Delivery, let that special person know that you really do care for them!"

Greg quickly switched it to the next channel, satisfied to find that it was the news. The news was always good to watch. Besides, what were the chances that whatever they were broadcasting would remind him of Sara?

"A young happy couple says 'I do' at the top of the Stratosphere today..."

Greg switched off the television, tossing the remote on the end table. At this point he really couldn't see how things could get worse. After taking another sip he leaned his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew was that the phone was ringing.

He groaned, sitting up slowly, trying to work the stiffness out of his neck. The sudden realization of how terrible he felt hit him then. His entire body as sore as he pushed himself to his feet, and his head was pounding incessantly as he fumbled for the phone.

"Hello," he asked groggily, rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"Greg, it's Grissom, are you coming in sometime tonight?"

Greg quickly glanced up at the clock, cursing under his breath as he saw the time. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to set the alarm, give me half an hour, I'll be in."

Greg hung up quickly, holding on to the counter to steady himself. He was shivering, and he had some idea to as why. He hadn't changed out of his wet clothes from before, and now he was regretting it. Wrapping his arms around his midsection, Greg wandered into his room, pulling on a quick change of clothes. If he had more time, he would have taken a hot shower in order to warm up some, but he was already late by an hour and a half.

Instead he only pulled on an extra layer of clothing, grabbing his keys as he left his apartment. Stopping for food was out of the question, if he was lucky, he could make it to work before he was two hours late. The only thing on his mind then was that Sara was going to kill him for leaving her to sort through the trash alone.

Squinting, Greg tried to will his eyes to focus on the lettering in front of him. He picked the papers up, bringing them closer to his face as he read the last part, shaking his head as he put them down. He had been working alone now for the last four hours, Sara had left earlier to interview a potential suspect. It was something Greg was glad for; he hadn't seen her tonight at all, which left him to sort through the garbage can they had brought in.

That meant that Sara was more and likely not angry with him for being late. Out of everything, the last thing Greg needed was for Sara to be angry with him. He let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead gingerly. He was beyond starving, and he wouldn't be able to break for at least another two hours.

His headache had only increased during that time, as had the chills. He still ached, all over, and moving was slow and painful. Greg moved from rubbing his forehead to rubbing the back of his neck, trying to rub the stiffness out.

"Sorry that took so long," Sara's loud voice caused him to wince some as she walked into the room. "The guy was an hour later; how are things here?"

Greg finished jotting down the last few items on the form, already pointing out the finished ones. "Found a few prints on the dumpster, but they're probably not relevant. And believe it or not, all I found in there was a bunch of trash. Nothing out of the ordinary. I don't know how Ecklie expects us to finish this by Friday."

"Are you okay?" Sara asked, sitting down across from him. "You don't look so good."

Greg shrugged, already working on the next documentation form. "I didn't really sleep all that well," he lied, squinting again as the printing went blurry.

He was startled when she reached across the table, placing a hand against his forehead. He tried to pull back, but she had already noticed. "You're burning up Greg, why did you come in if you're feeling like this?"

Greg shook his head, "We have work to do," he muttered, moving back to fill out the forms. Sara pulled the pen from his hand, prompting him to look up at her.

"Go home Greg," she told him, "Get your rest, you're no help if you're sick. Get better before it gets worse."

"I'm fine," Greg argued, leaning back in his chair.

"You look like death warmed over. Go home, get some rest, come back tomorrow if you're feeling up to it."

"I feel up to it now," Greg told her, reaching for the pen. She held it back from him shaking her head.

"Does Grissom know you're working like this?"

"That's none of your business," Greg told her, "Give me my pen back, I have work to do."

"Let's talk to Grissom first, see what he says," Sara answered, already standing.

"Fine," Greg shook his head, standing up slowly. "I'll go home, you happy?"

She nodded, "Yes, you need your rest."

Greg waved her off as he walked down the hall, his head hanging down slightly. How was it that she always won over him? Pulling his stuff from his locker, to tired to change there, he kicked his locker closed, resting his head against the cold metal. Going home had sounded wonderful, so why did he feel even worse all of the sudden?

TBC