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CHAPTER 23

"I never thought much of the courage of a lion tamer. Inside the cage he is at least safe from people."

George Bernard Shaw

CATHERINE POV

Hearing a knock, I try to grab the towel from the stove.

"Mother!" I call, balancing the pot with my other hand.

Nothing.

"Mother! The door!"

"Alright, alright!" my mother calls, finally getting up from the couch to head towards the door.

The door opens and I turn off the stove.

"What a pleasure," my mother drones in a dull tone.

"Nice to see you again, too, Ms. Flynn."

My motions pause, the pot suspended in my hand over the sink.

No way.

Surely, she isn't that much of a masochist.

"Can I help you?" my mother asks rudely. "Or did you just come by to stare?"

I see Sara practically saving my life has done nothing to win the brunette favor in my mother's eyes.

"Mother," I call. "Please let Sara inside the house."

"It's my house," she counters evenly, shrugging.

"Sweet Lord in heaven," I curse, placing the pot aside.

Moving through the living room, I walk right past my mother and take Sara's arm. Leading her inside the house, I send my mother a pointed look as I pass.

"Hey," I offer in greeting to the younger woman, looking her over. I'm surprised to see her here, to be honest.

She was still asleep when I left her house yesterday.

"You alright?" I question, noting that she still looks exhausted.

"Yeah," she waves off my concern. "I have to head into work, but I wanted to ask you something first."

"Oh," I offer. "Okay."

Sara's eyes move from mine to above my left shoulder.

Where they stay.

"Oh, don't mind me," my mother calls behind me. "Anything you say to my daughter, Miss Sidle, you can say to me."

Sara tightens her jaw.

"I should've just called you," she mumbles.

I laugh slightly, gently taking Sara by the arm and reversing our previous movements as this time I lead her back outside the house.

Shutting the front door soundly behind me, I turn to face Sara in the privacy of the porch.

"Sorry," I offer with a relieved sigh. "You were saying?"

"I, uh," Sara shakes her head, glancing out towards the yard. "I wanted to ask you not to say anything to DB…about…"

"About your seizure yesterday?" I raise my brows.

Sara remains silent, head lowered slightly.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I know it's not fair of me to ask that of you…"

"You're right," I tell her. "It's not."

"Please, Catherine," Sara finally lifts her eyes to mine. "I need to be out in the field, this whole thing about being stuck in the lab," she shakes her head. "I'm going insane."

"Yeah?" I question, trying to be understanding of her feelings, but also trying to be realistic. "What happens when you have a seizure at a scene, Sara?"

Sara tightens her jaw, "I can feel them coming," she answers quietly. "Like in the car with you yesterday, I know when one's about to happen."

"Doesn't change the outcome, though," I offer. "You're still placing yourself in jeopardy at a crime scene," I tell her. "Putting the case in jeopardy as well."

Sara turns her gaze back out to the yard.

"It's no different than when I have a seizure at the lab," Sara says. "I know how to not compromise the case."

"It's not really the case I'm worried about," I tell her honestly.

"I don't have to carry my weapon," Sara says. "I can always go with another CSI, no solos."

Sara fixes her gaze on mine.

"There are ways around it. I just can't keep working from the sidelines."

"Have you talked with DB?" I question.

She lets out a breath.

"Took me weeks to get him to even let me into the lab."

"Sara," I rub my temples. "I can't keep this from him if he asks."

Sara nods, "I'm not asking you to lie about it," she states. "I wouldn't do that to you. I'm just asking you, as a favor, not to volunteer the information if he doesn't ask."

She searches my gaze.

"Please."

Breathing out, I know this is the wrong move. I know Sara isn't anywhere near healthy enough to be anywhere near a scene right now. She's meticulous about her cases, and I know she wouldn't ever compromise a scene. It's her recovery I'm worried about.

She looks like shit, and today's shift for her hasn't even begun.

The last thing she needs right now is to be adding new responsibilities.

But, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes, the uncomfortable position she's put herself in coming here and asking this favor of me, it's damn hard to ignore her request.

"If he doesn't ask," I eventually state, "he won't hear it from me."

"Thank you," Sara offers quietly.

She runs a hand through her hair.

"Sara?" I question in the silence that follows.

"Yeah?"

She looks so young, so tired, so shaken right now.

"Can I…"

I trail off, slowly moving closer to her.

She watches me intently, eyes following my every step.

Keeping my gaze on hers, I let her see my intentions.

Carefully, I gently wrap my arms around her thin body.

Holding her close, it takes her a good while before I feel her arms hesitantly return the embrace.

"I'm glad you're okay," I whisper. "Yesterday…"

"I know," Sara gets out tensely. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," my words are stern, stopping any argument before it begins.

We hold each other for a few minutes more before Sara finally pulls away.

Clearing her throat, she takes the keys from her jeans pocket.

"I really need to head in," she says quietly.

"Of course," I state, not wanting to make her late for shift.

As Sara descends the porch, I call out to her.

"I'm trying out this new recipe."

Sara raises a brow.

"Uh…congratulations…?"

I snort.

"I was wondering if you and your mom would like to come over for dinner and give it a try with me, you ass."

Sara smiles and then hesitates, clearly not expecting the invitation.

"Oh…"

"You don't have to," I suddenly get nervous. "I just thought…"

"That sounds nice," Sara offers, cutting off my rant before it can start.

"Really?"

She smiles, "Really. Despite your calling me an ass."

I nod, letting out a relieved breath.

"Alright," I smile. "I'll call you."

Sara nods, getting into her Tahoe and sending me a slight wave before pulling out of the drive.

"Alright…" I breathe out into the morning air.

Seeing Sara and her mother ascending the drive, I nearly fly out my front door.

"Catherine?" Sara questions, eyes wide as I sprint up to them.

"I think I made a huge mistake…"

"Are you alright, honey?" Laura questions, concerned eyes looking me over.

"She always has her book clubs on Thursday nights," I get out in a rush. "But then, tonight, here she was, sitting on the couch. She tells me it was cancelled. Cancelled!"

"Honey," Laura reaches out, gently holding my arm. "You need to take some deep breaths and tell us what's got you all worked up…"

Sara's pale features tell me she's understood my words and knows exactly what's got me all worked up.

"Fuck."

"Sara!" Laura states, sending her daughter a look that, if I wasn't so terrified would have brought a smile to my face.

"Maybe we can plan a rain check?" I offer, hope coloring my voice.

Then, we hear the front door open.

"Catherine," my mother states. "Perhaps you should invite your guests inside like a proper host."

"Oh," Laura offers, eyes lifting to my mother. "Is that your mother, honey? How nice that she can join us."

Sara and I exchange a look, both caught in a struggle between whether to bolt or puke.

"Think we should rescue them?"

I smile, "They're setting the table, how much trouble can they get into?"

"Your mother once asked me when I was putting your coffee mug away if I was seeing impaired, because, clearly, the handle of the mug should always face to the right to assist the dominant hand of most individuals."

I snort, "Point taken."

Neither one of us moves to head inside, however, enjoying the fresh air while the meal finishes.

"You alright to be drinking with your seizure meds?" I ask, gesturing to the glass of wine in her hand, trying to keep my tone from sounding anything than how it's intended.

"I'm not on any meds."

I glance over at the brunette in surprise.

Sara sees my expression.

"They'd tried so many in such a short period of time," Sara states. "The doctor wants to go a week without any meds before starting something new. Clear out my system."

"Right," I offer. "Well, good luck."

Sara nods, clearly wanting to change the topic.

"When are you headed back?" she asks me, keeping her gaze out into the night.

Perhaps hearing how that could've sounded, she glances over.

"Not that I…it's nice having you here, it's just I'm sure with the trial over they want you back."

I smile, "I know what you meant, Sara."

Turning, I face the darkness with her.

"I don't know, to be honest," I confess. "I was actually thinking of taking some time off."

"Yeah?" Sara questions.

"I think I need to clear my head for a bit," I answer. "Refocus myself after everything that's happened."

Sara takes this in.

"You okay?" she questions gently. "I mean, handling everything…"

"I'm fine," I gently squeeze her free hand. "Thanks."

Sara nods.

"You know, I'm here," she trails of slightly. "If you ever need. Don't think because…what you saw…"

She swallows.

"I'm still here if you need."

I keep my grip on her hand firm.

"I know, Sara," I tell her with a gentle smile, knowing that with her current health issues, Sara is afraid of appearing weak. Appearing unable to help or support me. "I know you're still here for me, just like you always have been."

She searches my gaze before returning hers to the darkness.

"I think perhaps we should go save your mother from mine," I offer, registering how weird it is to be saying that sentence.

Sara smiles.

"I think that's wise."

"So, tell me about the work you do?"

My mother's question hangs in the air, Laura's fork paused near her mouth.

It's about the fifteenth awkward question my mother's directed at Laura since we sat down.

"Oh…" she says hesitantly. "I uh…I'm sort of between things right now."

"Yeah?" my mother continues relentlessly. "Well then, what did you previously do?"

Sara clears her throat.

"Catherine, what's in this sauce?" she questions. "It's amazing."

"Thanks," I gladly pick up the new topic. "Just some tomato, garlic, but also some ginger."

"Ginger," Laura smiles. "That's what that is. I've been trying to place that taste all night."

Laura smiles at me.

"You have a gift with food," she compliments sincerely. "This is one of the beast meals I think I've had."

"They didn't serve pasta like this where you were staying?" my mother questions, and my heart nearly drops in my chest. "Guess it's not in the state budget."

Sara's jaw tightens, the brunette clenching her fork so tightly her fingers are pale.

"No," Laura answers quietly, keeping her calm. "You're right, they didn't serve this where I was."

"Which was where, exactly?" my mother continues, eyes boring into Laura. "It's all rather ambiguous on the news with this case our daughters were involved in. They just kept mentioning the part in the testimony where it was revealed about your killing your husband and then 'going away'."

Sara places her fork heavily on her plate.

"Mother," I state tightly. "Let's move onto something else."

"Catherine, it's fine, honey," Laura offers gently. "I was at a treatment center for my sentence, Ms. Willows."

"It's Ms. Flynn," my mother bites harshly. "Some of us elect to keep our own name, not the name of a husband we stabbed to death."

Instantly, Sara shoots to her feet, her body leaning across the table and her hands grabbing my mother by her sweater before anyone can move.

"Sara!" Laura calls, quickly moving up behind them.

Me, I'm too shocked to do more than stand numbly.

"Don't you ever talk to my mother like that," Sara grinds out. "You want to give me shit about anything and everything? Fine. But don't you dare talk to my mother that way."

My mother pushes herself to stand in front of Sara, the brunette seething through a clenched jaw.

My mother smiles sweetly, "Quite the temper your daughter's got there, Ms. Sidle. Wonder where she gets that from."

"Oh, no, Ms. Flynn," Laura states. "If she had my temper, you wouldn't still be breathing."

For the first time, my mother's smirk falters, her eyes glancing between Sara and her mother.

"I want you both out of my home."

"Gladly," Sara offers, pushing herself away from my mother.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," Sara addresses me, expression pained. "I didn't mean for this."

I nod numbly, knowing deep down I expected something to happen, but nothing of this magnitude.

Placing a calming hand on her daughter's back, Laura gently guides Sara towards the door.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," she offers to me as well as she passes, sadness coloring her eyes

Hearing them leave, I'm left in the shocked silence of the dining room.

The next morning, I know Sara is surprised to see me sitting outside the lab when she arrives at work.

"Catherine," she offers somewhat tentatively, glancing around. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I assure her. "I actually came by to have a quick word with you before work."

I gesture towards the side of the building. "You mind?"

Sara follows me around to the side wall.

Once we're in a more private setting, I face the brunette.

"So, dinner…"

Sara cringes, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry, Catherine."

"Don't," I offer. "That's probably the most entertainment I've had at a dinner party in awhile."

Sara looks at me, still looking guilty.

"I grabbed your mother," she breathes out with a groan. "And then, to top things off, my mother threatened to kill her."

I watch Sara before bursting out laughing.

"You can't make this shit up," I get out.

I felt horrible after that dinner, didn't sleep at all last night. I felt terrible about what happened, what was said. I wanted to touch base with Sara this morning, to reset things hopefully to where they were before that disaster.

"I'm sorry for the way my mother acted," I offer. "The things she said to your mom…"

Sara watches the horizon.

"You don't have to apologize," Sara says. "She said them, not you."

"I know things are complicated between you and your mom right now," I offer. "And I really hope last night didn't complicate things further."

Sara shakes her head, "I think last night gave my mother and I some common ground for the first time in a very long while."

Sara goes quiet, and I know there's a lot going through her mind right now that she isn't saying.

"Well," I breathe out eventually, knowing I'm not going to get anything more out of the private brunette. "Just know that there's no hard feelings on this end. My mother's…a complicated woman…and she wasn't always like this."

Sara nods.

"I don't presume to know or judge your mother any more than anyone else. She has her story, I'm sure. Her reasons for things."

I shake my head in disbelief.

"You've got to tell me where you buy whatever the hell zen pills you take, Sara Sidle."

Sara looks at me curiously before she eventually snorts and smiles, watching me with a confused and also slightly amused expression on her face.

Watching her in the morning light, I have to work at not getting lost in her hazel eyes or her rare smile.

I know I need to figure myself out.

I'm not being fair to Sara nor Ben right now, both of them completely unaware of the other.

But, I also need time to figure out what exactly it is I want before I go any further with either of them.

I feel such an attraction to Sara, especially now that I know she's available. I can't deny how I feel when she's near me, when I'm around her.

She has this presence about her, which is difficult to explain as the brunette is traditionally quiet, reserved. But, she has this intensity about her that draws you in.

But, I also feel the sense of complication when it comes to the brunette.

Sara is guarded, extremely hard to read. She censors herself and her emotions to a point that I don't know what she's thinking most of the time.

And, she's also going through a hell of a lot right now.

Ben, on the other hand, is straightforward.

I know what he's thinking, what he's feeling.

He's direct and clear in his desires, including his desire to start a life with me.

He's offered me a safe and secure home with him in Washington.

And, after all the uncertainty I've previously had in my life, the guaranteed life he's offering is more than appealing.

Sara's a gamble, a risk.

Ben isn't.

It's time I figure out just how much I'm willing to put on the line.

Figure out if I'm willing to risk following my heart instead of following my head.

AN: Thanks for reading.