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Chapter 21: Invitation

Sara was late.

Nick and Warrick had turned off their game, Greg had taken his coffee and gone off to his lab, Catherine had abandoned her magazine, and even if I hadn't been sitting in the break room, anxiously tapping my pen against a crossword puzzle I simply couldn't focus on, I would have been down with assignments by now. …And I was often late for assignments.

I sighed, dropping the pen and picking up the slips. "Warrick, smash and grab. Catherine, you and I are taking a double in Henderson. Nick, when Sara gets here you—"

She rushed into the room, she cheeks slightly red, probably from running all the way here from her car. "I'm sorry. I'm here."

I leveled her with an unwavering gaze. What, exactly, had she been doing with Michael to make herself late? Sara cared about the job more than anything. …Or, at least, she used to. It took everything in me to keep my voice level and not overreact to this. "Nice of you to join us." I said, and I knew my voice was a little cold. Enough to draw more attention than I wanted—Catherine looked at me in surprise, and the guys looked between Sara and I, wondering what had inspired my tone. I cleared my throat. "You and Nick have got a DB at Caesar's Palace—suspicious circs."

Her lips were pursed. I knew she was angry with me. Sara had quite the temper, I had learned. "Great. Nick, you ready?"She didn't wait for him to answer, but swept from the room, and Nick's wide open expression was bewildered as he rose, shrugging his confusion to no one in particular, and followed her out of the break room.

Catherine, of course, had to ask. "So, uh… What was all of that about?"

I shake my head. "Nothing—Sara just needs to be here on time. Should we go?"

I too left the room without waiting for my partner, to the sound of her indignant huffing and Warrick's soft chuckle. He got to work alone tonight, and so would be spared all the drama. I suddenly wished I'd taken the solo case for myself. Catherine liked to ask questions…and we had a bit of a drive.

For some reason, though, she seemed to sense my unwillingness to talk about it, and the drive to Henderson was completed in silence. Although this was preferable to being questioned, it left me far too much silence to delve into my thoughts. The fact of the matter was that Sara had chosen the man over me. She had forgotten I was even there in her rush to embrace him, and she had chosen to stay and talk with him rather than calling me back, despite the intensity of the conversation we'd been involved in prior to him interrupting. Not only that, but she had been late, because she'd been with him.

What had she been doing, to keep her from making it to work on time?

I was preoccupied while processing. It looked like a murder-suicide, but it wasn't. There was a shoe print on the man's shirt that was inconsistent with any the couple owned, much less the pair she had on her feet. I also failed to notice the red fibers that were trapped in the wife's nose, just out of sight. Maybe I should be doing the smash and grab instead of Warrick—clearly, I wasn't on top of my game right now.

It took hours, and I was exhausted by the time we came back to the lab to log in evidence and distribute it to its respective labs for analysis. The only bright side was that we were nearing the end of shift and there was no way we'd be pulling a double—day shift had been busy, and the morgue wouldn't get to the body until probably this evening, and most of the evidence wouldn't be ready until just before then anyway. Catherine had to get Lindsey to school, and I…

I needed to do something.

I wasn't sure what… I just knew that I had spent the entire night with the image of Mr.-young-and-handsome from Sara's past in my head… the way he'd looked at her, and the way she'd looked at him, and the way she fell into his arms. Even if she felt nothing for him… he was still a threat. Weren't we both her exes? Yet she would never embrace me so boldly as she had him. We didn't have that kind of a relationship… As far as I knew, they hadn't spoken in years, and I saw her every day, and yet she felt more at ease with him.

I needed to do something.

I passed the break room on the way to log everything in—everyone was in already. At my head stuck in the door, eyebrow raised, Nick openly laughed. "Guy confessed, Griss. Besides, none of our evidence will be back for a while… I guess day shift's got some high-profile triple that's taking up resources."

I glanced at Sara, whose motionless gaze still seemed to confirm his words, despite giving no indication that she even saw me. I turned to Warrick next, and he held his hands up defensively. "If a double murder can't get their evidence up in the queue, what makes you think a smash and grab's got any chance? I'm low-priority."

I sighed, nodding, and turned to go, but Sara spoke up for the first time. "Griss?"

I stopped, turning back to the group. Her voice was not angry, though she'd clearly been angry with me at the beginning of shift when I'd snapped at her. I swallowed, making sure to control my voice this time. "Yeah?"

"I, uh…" She licked her lips and glanced at Nick and Warrick a little self-consciously. "I ran into an old friend, earlier tonight, and…" she bit her bottom lip, and I understood—she was telling me as if I didn't know, so Nick and Warrick wouldn't know about our conversation and the tension between us. "I, uh… invited Greg, Nick, and Warrick to come have breakfast with me and… him and his friend… I, uh… I'd like it if you could come too. …And Catherine."

I breathed in slowly, and let it out. "I, uh… I'll let Catherine know you invited her."

I turned on my heel and went to sign everything in, knowing that I hadn't really given her an answer for myself at all. I just… I didn't know. On the one hand, if I was there, I could more accurately gauge their present relationship if I could see it first hand. And the fact that she was inviting a large group rather than going alone was heartening. But at the same time… I wasn't sure I could handle seeing the love in his eyes. He had never gotten over her, and either Sara didn't know, or she did and she still had no problem spending time with him. …That had to mean something, right?

Just because she had the right to see anyone that she wanted, didn't mean that she should.

I set the various evidence bags down on the table beside Catherine, who was already carefully recording identifiers. "I, uh… I'm supposed to tell you, Sara invited the team out to breakfast."

Catherine looked up in surprise, and I felt for a moment that she saw right through me. Then she frowned. "Weren't you two fighting?"

I rolled my eyes. "Her boss telling her she needs to be more punctual doesn't qualify as a fight."

She believed me, nodding offhandedly and shrugging. "I spose—Lindsey's with Eddie today, so I don't see any reason why not. …What's the occasion?"

I rolled my eyes again, this time genuinely. "Some old friend's in town and she wanted us all to go with them." Really, it couldn't just be me. This sounded ridiculous, didn't it?

"Oh." Catherine's eyes flashed. "That sounds like fun." She passed me the pen, having finished with her pile, and glanced at her watch. "Shift's just about over—I'll go tell her I'm in. See you at breakfast!" She called, moving out of the room before I can contradict her and tell her that I am most certainly not going. …Or, well, at least… uncertain if I am.

I logged evidence, taking my time, and when I headed back out towards the locker room, I expected everyone to have left for breakfast without me. They were all still in the break room, and I hurried past without catching anyone's eyes. Maybe I was being a coward… No, I definitely was. Every step closer to the dark seclusion of the locker room made me feel closer to safety. But I just…

I stepped into the locker room, the door swinging closed behind me, and there was Sara, sitting on a bench, alone. My mouth went dry. "…Sara. What… what are you… doing in here?"

Her deep, dark eyes met mine, and I trembled. She held up a phone. "I… needed a quiet place to call Michael… let him know the team was up for meeting him." I nodded and turned to my locker—although I didn't want to prolong our interaction, I was also too proud to turn and walk out without doing anything. It would be tantamount to admitting my cowardliness. She clears her throat, softly. "Griss?"

I open the locker. "Hmm…?" This seems to be appropriately distant. There's silence as I pull out my keys and my jacket. I wonder if she's given up, or searching for words, or…

"…Gil?"

I turn a startled gaze to her and she purses her lips. "We'll be at Frank's… if you change your mind. I… It would… mean a lot to me, if you came." Her eyes hold mine, briefly, and then she's gone… moving silently out and leaving me standing, bewildered and alone.

I needed to do something.