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Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 37

"Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored; dies before thy uncreating word: thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; and universal darkness buries all."

Alexander Pope

CATHERINE POV

She's late.

Well, not technically, there's still ten minutes until shift starts.

But, for Sara, that's late.

I wanted to be here when Sara got here, arriving nearly two hours before shift starts to be sure that I was successful.

With each moment that passed without sight of the brunette, the deeper my stomach sank.

Glancing anxiously between the door and the clock, I watch the other members of the team slowly filter in, offering them distracted greetings.

Gathering around the break room table, DB is about to hand out assignments when Sara finally enters.

I thought I would feel better when she got here.

Instead, I feel worse.

She's pale, unsteady, and her eyes are looking anywhere but at the team members around her. Placing herself near the back of the room, she turns away to make some coffee.

Something's wrong.

Something's very, very wrong.

Hearing the assignments being given out, my eyes meet with DB's.

He keeps glancing at Sara's back, indicating he's also picked up on the brunette's appearance.

"And lastly," he offers, quickly shuffling the papers around. "Sara, Catherine, and Finn – you're out on an arson in Red Rock."

Letting out a breath, I send Russell a thankful look. He nods in understanding, sending me a look of his own.

A look that's asking me to keep my head, but to also keep an eye on Sara.

"You alright?"

Startling at the unexpected voice behind her, Sara glances over at me, cold water dripping from her skin.

"Yeah," she offers, turning her attention back to the sink.

Splashing her face one last time, she reaches out and grabs a paper towel.

Drying herself off, she tosses the paper towel in the trash.

As she turns towards the door, I reach out and catch hold of her wrist.

"Catherine?" she narrows her eyes.

I don't respond, searching her eyes for some sort of clue, some hint, as to what's going on behind her stoic façade.

"Cath," she offers quietly. "We need to go, Finn's waiting in the car."

Still studying her, I eventually sigh, letting go of her wrist.

"Sara," I call out in one last attempt as she pulls the bathroom door open.

"Just…" I shake my head at my inability to express what I want to tell her. Sara watches me as she holds the door open. "Just know that I'm here, if you need me. I know today has to be hard for you."

Sara swallows tightly, nodding her head as her gaze shifts away.

"Thanks."

Clearing her throat, she takes in a deep breath.

"We really should go, Catherine."

"I don't think I remember what my skin is actually supposed to look like anymore."

Snorting, I toss a towel at Sara. "At least your hair is dark. I'm currently sporting some very lovely highlights compliments of the soot."

Sara sends me a wink, "I always loved a woman with highlights."

"Oh God," Finn rolls her eyes. "Will you two lovebirds cut it out already? The fact that you're flirting about dirt is quite nauseating."

"What would you rather us flirt about?" Sara asks innocently.

Sara gets another towel thrown at her head in response.

"So," I question the group. "We clean enough to get back in the Tahoe and head out of this place?"

Warily, we glance around. Seeing the dark streaks of dirt, soot, mud, and God knows what else clinging to our clothes, skin, and hair, we all remain silent.

Adding in the aroma of smoke lingering around us from the scorched scene we just spent hours processing, we look and smell a mess.

"The Tahoe has a very dark interior…" Sara tentatively offers.

"Agreed!" Finn eagerly states, grabbing her things. "Let's blow this hellhole."

Raising my brows in amusement, I follow after.

Feeling a pull on my hand as I reach the passenger door, I turn to meet Sara's eyes.

"You really do look beautiful," she whispers near my ear. "Soot and all."

Sending me a final wink, she moves past me to the Tahoe.

"You really think I torched my own building?"

"Mr. Preston…"

"No," he laughs darkly. "I want to hear this. Hear how you can think, in this struggling economy, that I would torch the warehouse that holds all of the assets of my entire business."

He shakes his head darkly.

"I also want to hear how you think it was appropriate to show up at my office, asking questions about arson in front of my clients."

"We're just following standard procedure, sir."

"Procedure my ass."

"Well this is going well," Brass mutters from the corner of the interrogation room.

"Look," I shrug. "We're simply carrying out our investigation into what truly happened to your property. If you didn't torch the place, Mr. Preston, then you have nothing to worry about."

"Yeah right," he spits. "I've seen enough cop shows to know how this works. I know how you guys are."

"Apparently you need to watch a few more," Sara mumbles. "At least a couple more episodes should clear up the issue of who is and isn't a cop in this room."

"Sara," I send her a look, while at the same time trying not to smile at her comment. "Now isn't the time."

"This is ridiculous…" Sara mutters under her breath.

"What's ridiculous is the fact that I'm being questioned when I'm the victim here!" Mr. Preston interjects. "I'm losing money even as we speak!"

Sara narrows her eyes.

"No, Mr. Preston, what's ridiculous is the fact that we're trying to find out what happened to your business, trying to help you, and yet you're doing everything to get in our way."

"Bullshit."

"Yeah?" Sara shrugs. "Then why are you refusing to give us your prints to rule you out? Why are you refusing to tell us where you were when the fire started?"

Sara's heated gaze bores into Mr. Preston's.

"Why are you being an arrogant, obnoxious prick?" Sara questions as Mr. Preston turns red with rage. "If you're not guilty, then prove it."

"I don't have to prove shit to you, bitch," he grinds out, reaching up to loosen his tie as he seethes in anger.

"You can't be bothered to prove your innocence?" Sara shrugs. "Fine, then I really don't feel like we should be bothered to do so, either."

Standing, Sara silently exits the room, the metal door closing tightly behind her.

"Your day to play bad cop?" I casually question, trying to keep my tone neutral as I refill my coffee.

I didn't come in here to start a fight, and I know the brunette is more than on edge today. But, I also feel like her behavior needs to be addressed.

Sara lets out a breath, "I'm sorry," she offers. "I just felt like he was wasting our time in there."

"He was," I agree. "But that isn't the way to handle it."

Sara looks over at me before adding more sugar to her coffee.

"I know, Catherine."

Furrowing my brows, I watch her movements.

"I really am sorry," she says quietly. "I was frustrated, but that doesn't give me an excuse to be unprofessional."

I'd appreciate and accept her sincere apology, but I'm not really listening to her words at this point, to be honest.

Taking her hand, I stop her movements, my eyes planted on the counter.

"Catherine?" Sara questions. "What are you…"

"Look at me."

"Catherine…?"

Eyes lifting from the counter, I keep my grip on her hand firm.

"Look at me."

Swallowing tightly, Sara finally brings her eyes to mine.

"Shit," I breathe out, closing my eyes against the sight before me.

"When did it happen?"

"Cath…" Sara states. "I don't know what-"

"When did it happen?" I repeat, opening my eyes and cutting her off before she can lie to me.

"I…Cath…" Sara shakes her head, starting to pull away.

"Sara," I tighten my hold on her wrist while my other hand grasps her jaw, keeping her eyes on me.

Gazes locked, neither one of us is willing to back down.

Just when I think we're going to be here all night, Sara finally swallows.

"This morning."

I run her answer through my head.

"That's why you were so late to show up."

Sara remains quiet.

"Sara," I try to control my emotions. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not a big deal," she counters. "I'm fine."

"You had a seizure," I argue. "One bad enough that your eyes are still not focusing correctly. One bad enough that you're pouring sugar all over the counter instead of your coffee because your vision is still blurred."

I feel her trying to pull away, but she can't succeed very well with my hands so tightly holding her in place.

"How the hell did you manage to process that scene?" I question in disbelief. "Jesus, Sara, you could've gotten yourself killed in there."

"I know what I'm doing," Sara counters, tone somewhat dark. "This isn't exactly the first seizure I've had."

Registering the tension emanating from her, I take a deep breath. I need to be cautious with my approach.

"I'm not trying to upset you, Sar," I tell her. "I just wish you'd told me."

"Why?" Sara breathes out. "So you could keep me in the lab all day?"

She searches my eyes. "This day of all days, Catherine, I couldn't handle being stuck with nothing to do."

Hearing the emotion behind her nearly whispered words, I breathe out a deep breath.

"Sara…"

Trailing off, I eventually shake my head.

Removing my hand from her jaw, I use it to lightly grip her shoulder.

"Honey, I love you, and I wish you had trusted me enough to come to me with this."

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, I watch her body flinch slightly at the unexpectedly gentle gesture.

"I'm on your side, Sara," I confess softly. "Someday I hope you can trust that."

Watching Sara drop her pencil in frustration, I decide that this is close enough to the end of shift to get out of here.

The last couple hours, Sara, Finn, and I have combed through every piece of charred evidence we collected. However, without Mr. Preston's cooperation, things are moving at a glacial pace.

He wouldn't even give us an inventory of the content of his warehouse, leaving us with no way of knowing which items inside were supposed to be there and which ones could have possibly been left or taken by the arsonist.

"Come on," I call, all but pulling Sara to her feet. "We're done for today."

"What?" Sara immediately argues. "We haven't gotten anywhere…"

"I know," I inform her. "And that's why we're calling it a day. We'll approach this in the morning with a fresh pair of eyes."

"Cath-"

"I'm your superior on this, Sara," I cut in. "Don't fight me regarding the decisions I make on this case."

Sara's eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Right," she whispers out. "Of course."

"Sara…"

Turning to pack up the evidence, I turn her back around to face me.

"I didn't mean it how it sounded," I apologize. "We're both tired and frustrated, and I just want to take you home with me."

Sara furrows her brows.

"I want to curl up on the couch with you," I continue. "Turn on some stupid movie that neither of us will be the least bit interested in, and simply hold you."

"Cath…" Sara's voice is quiet, eyes shadowed. "You don't have to do this…I know with the anniversary…I know you're worried…"

She takes my hands gently in hers.

"I'm really fine, Catherine. You don't have to do anything different."

"I want to, Sara. I don't have to, sure, but I want to."

I rub my thumbs over her knuckles.

"Please?"

Seeing my pleading expression, the honesty in my eyes, Sara sighs.

"Let's get out of here."

Smiling, I lean in and chance the public setting to place my lips against hers.

Sara and I are alone in the room, but someone could walk in at any time.

With no hesitation, Sara deepens the kiss, pulling me close.

I feel her hips connect with mine, both our breaths hitching at the sensation.

Moving her hands softly through my hair, Sara's leg gently places itself between my own.

Moaning into the kiss, my tongue battles against hers for dominance.

Feeling myself shifted backwards, I gasp as my back connects with the cold layout table. Using the positioning to our advantage, Sara narrows the gap between our bodies, her hips now firmly pressed against my own.

Deciding I want to use the positioning to my advantage, I reverse our bodies before Sara has a chance to fight me.

Pushing her solidly against the edge of the table, Sara grunts into the kiss as the cold, hard surface connects with her lower back.

I move my lips to her neck, both of us gasping for desperate breaths, I distract her with my mouth, moving my kisses slowly down to the sensitive skin near her pulse.

As I shift my hips against hers, Sara tries to strangle a moan.

Brushing my teeth against her collarbone, I use my foot to push her legs apart. Once they're wide enough away from one another, I thrust my leg firmly between her own.

"Shit…" Sara chokes out, the word strangled as I once again capture her lips with mine.

I don't know why I always have this desire to be the one in control when things with Sara become physical. I think part of me registers the everyday strength and control that the brunette exhibits as an integral facet of her being.

She's always so carefully controlled in her words, her actions, expression always guarded as to not give too much away. She has this strength, this edge and intensity to her. This persona that she's untouchable and that nothing affects her.

Perhaps that's why the idea of her being vulnerable, being no longer the one in control, is so appealing to me.

But, I know Sara's past, I know her recent experiences with our abductions, and, most importantly, I know the importance of today. I need to be respectful of that, respectful of her.

I keep my lips on hers as I slowly take hold of her wrists, gently pushing them back so her hands are forced to grab the table.

"Don't let go of the table..." I mumble against her lips before I reengage in our kiss.

She apparently isn't listening to me as her hands immediately come to wrap around my waist to hold me.

Removing them, I replace them back on the table.

"Cath?" Sara questions, pulling her head back to look at me with confusion. "I'm sorry…did I…"

"I'm fine, Sara," I reassure her with a soft smile.

I keep my lips on hers as I slowly take hold of her wrists, gently pushing them back so her hands are forced to once again grab the table.

"Keep them there," I mumble against her lips, trying to be more direct this time, before I reengage in our kiss.

She apparently isn't catching on to what I'm trying to accomplish here as her hands immediately come to my back to hold me.

Removing them, I replace them back on the table.

"Cath?" Sara questions, looking at me with worried eyes. "What...I..."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Sara," I reassure her gently. "I just want you to let me lead things for once. I want you to let me touch you without you taking back control."

"Catherine…"

"What did I say about you not questioning my actions on this case?" I ask her with a wink.

Sara shakes her head, rolling her eyes.

"God, you're something else," she laughs lowly. "Fine," she shrugs like it's no big deal what I've asked of her. "I wouldn't want to upset your obsession with authority."

She smiles at me. "You can be a bit type A, sometimes."

"Me?!" I nearly shriek. "Have you ever met yourself, Sidle?"

Sara only smirks.

Using my mouth to address her smirk, I kiss her deeply, smiling as I feel her hands move to take hold of me, but then deliberately force themselves back to the table.

Running my hands up her sides, Sara's breath catches, her body tense as she struggles to stay still.

When my hands reach upwards and then start to travel distinctly downwards towards more, intimate, areas, Sara moans.

"Jesus…" she gets out, breathing shallow and flushed. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Nope," I offer with a smile as I press my leg into her center and run my fingers across the skin near her hips. "Now I'm just proving a point."

Sara curses, body literally trembling beneath my fingers.

"Point made," she manages to get out.

Then, shaking her head, she moves and takes firm hold of me.

"Fuck it," she mutters, kissing me deeply and deftly reversing our positions. "Point fucking made."

Grabbing my keys from my locker, I quickly slam it shut, eager to catch up with the brunette waiting for me by the car. I have a nice, quiet, relaxing night planned for the two of us. Something I think we both desperately need.

Stepping from the lab, I spot Sara leaning against the black SUV, eyes peering off into the distance.

Placing my things in the trunk, I move towards the door.

"Sara?" I question, noting that the doors are still locked.

"Sar," I repeat, louder.

Jerking upright, she turns to me. "Oh, hey…sorry."

Unlocking the doors, she moves to open hers when I stop her.

"What's wrong, hon?"

"Hmm?" she questions. "Nothing."

"Sara."

Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair.

"I want nothing more than to go with you right now. To hold you and ignore the world around us for one, relaxing night," Sara tells me quietly.

"But…" I offer, my emotions tensing in anticipation of what's coming.

"But," Sara confirms, "I feel like I need to be with my mom tonight, Catherine."

Eyes looking guilty, she shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

I take in her statement, her expression.

"Why?"

Sara raises a brow.

"Why do you feel like you need to be with her tonight," I clarify.

I think, of all nights, this would be the one the brunette would want to continue her avoidance tactic she's nearly perfected when it comes to her mom.

"It's a rough day for her, too," Sara confesses quietly. "No matter the circumstances, she lost her husband that night…"

"She tried to kill her daughter that night."

Eyes looking at mine, Sara stiffens slightly, looking away.

"I know how it sounds, Catherine. But, she's my mom." She takes a deep breath. "And, to be honest, despite how I may feel about her, I just want to be sure she's safe."

"You worried she's going to do something?"

"Not to others…" Sara alludes vaguely.

Getting her point, I can't help but share in Sara's concerns. If it were me, the anniversary of the day I ended up murdering the man I loved in a psychotic break, I think I would have serious issues making it through the anniversary.

Especially if I were spending it alone.

"Okay," I whisper. "But…"

Sara keeps her eyes on mine, giving me her full attention.

"Can I come with you?"

Studying me, Sara furrows her eyes in confusion.

"Why?"

I roll my own eyes in response.

"Really?" I question. "I could smack you, Sara. Can you not possibly think of a reason I may want to be with you on the anniversary of your father's death? Be with you while you try to, for the first time since it happened, spend the anniversary with your mother?"

Sara turns away.

"It's not going to be much of a relaxing night, like you'd wanted…"

I have more than a sneaking suspicion that she's right. That this anniversary, so close to passing by smoothly, may actually be just beginning.

"Please."

Sighing, Sara turns back to me, pulling her keys from her jeans.

"You absolutely sure?"

"Positive."

Even as I say it firmly, I register my anxiety rising into what feels like dread.

I may appear confidant on the outside, but my insides are awash in concern for what lies ahead.

AN: Thanks for reading.