AWKWARD

CHAPTER EIGHT

That was the last time Grissom visited as he was slammed with work. But he didn't tell her that, and four long silent days left Sara feeling insecure that he was giving up on her and her baggage after her emotional breakdown. And Grissom felt uneasy too. As usual they did not voice their fears. Nothing was easy with these two. So the close relationship—friendship—they had built during Sara's convalescence felt strained.

Eventually, though, Sara was healed enough to return to work. She was sad the interval was over…the longest vacation in her whole life…but as always was motivated to work alongside Grissom and happy to reunite with her team/family. The question most on her mind that she didn't have the opportunity or confidence to ask was: "Will you go back to the way you were? Treating me coldly one day and flirting the next?"

It felt like the first day of school, Sara mused, as she walked through the familiar doors to the lab. There was a new receptionist who didn't recognize her and asked for identification, to her surprise. Sara's ID card was buried in the bottom of her satchel and it was awkward to dump it out on the floor and root around for the little plastic clip. At last she was allowed in to stride through the halls of the lab to the locker room, looking around curiously. She had arrived more than an hour early in hope they could have a few minutes of conversation. Grissom's office was empty. The breakroom was empty. The lab techs were concentrating on their work and didn't even glance up as she walked past. The feeling of being the new kid in school felt even stronger…she was expecting at least one "Welcome back!"

And then there was a rush of the whole team stampeding into the breakroom, where she was sipping her first cup of coffee nervously. They barely said hello before Conrad Ecklie arrived with Grissom close behind.

"Another body has turned up. This rapist is officially a serial," Conrad announced. "We need as many of you as possible working on that."

"And we are going to be stretched thin," Grissom added. Grissom glanced at Sara, appeared to change his mind, and stated, "Catherine, you have a domestic, woman stabbed her husband, she's in the hospital, he's dead." He thrust the assignment slip to her and she dashed out. "Greg, altercation at a restaurant, three injured, you're solo." Greg brightened at the prospect and hurried away before he could change his mind. Grissom added quickly, "Warrick and Nick, you're going the Mirage Hotel for the serial rapist/murder. Brass is already there." The two men hurried out.

"Sara."

Sara bit her lip as Ecklie gave a quick cold onceover and asked doubtfully, "Are you fit enough for field work?"

Tongue-tied, she could only nod.

Grissom nodded and said brusquely, "Body in the desert, might be a hit. I've got a casino robbery." And he and Conrad left too.

Back to 'Work Grissom'? Sara thought as she drove to her distant site. She wondered if kept her away from the domestic stabbing on purpose. She wondered if asking that and questioning his authority to assign cases would be a good idea. She wondered how to broach the subject of their relationship without seeming needy or pushing him away again. She wondered if she should invite him over, or call after work. She wondered if he would ever come over to her apartment again to hang out…would ever curl up on the couch with her and watch cheesy movies again …let alone ever get romantic…and the prospect of "never" gave her a sinking, desolate feeling.

Sara decided to lose herself in the work to chase these doubts away. But the scene had nothing to work with. Male DB, one bullet to the temple, stripped naked, considerable decay, obvious body dump. No tire tracks, no footprints, no trace evidence visible on or around the body, no shell casing, nothing to dust for fingerprints. And a low priority for a busy coroner so it could be hours. Ages before he could cart the body away. Sara sighed, pushed the sweat on her forehead to her hairline, and took photographs. And waited.

Two stabs of light in the empty darkness signaled the arrival of David Phillips, full of apologies for his late appearance. Sara reassured him it was not his fault and helped him roll the body into a body bag and lift it into the coroner's van. Sara sighed and texted Grissom to find out if he needed help at his scene. No, he wrote back, help Greg and he sent the address.

Sanders, at least, was glad to see her. He peppered her with questions about her health and time off. Sara assured him she was fully recovered but gave an enigmatic smile and a change of topic with those questions. Greg got the message and they processed the scene peacefully.

Sara felt herself dragging with fatigue when they finally finished. Her body had grown accustomed to a soft life and her body clock had slid back to a 'normal' sleep schedule over the past six weeks. The sky had just started to lighten when she emerged from the scene, stretched, yawned, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Greg headed back to the lab with his evidence. Sara had nothing to process of her own so she sent another text to her boss for instructions.

Her next case was a convenience store robbery that no one had time for. The clerk had been pistol-whipped and the EMTs bandaged him up and left him at the Gas 'n Sip to give his statement. When Sara finally arrived, he was a mess, with a splitting headache, bruised face, pale and sweating with shaking hands from the assault and fear for his life. She gave him a kind smile and a pat on the shoulder. CSI Sidle fetched them both a cold drink from the cooler and counted out the change to pay for it carefully on the counter, which made him smile and then wince with pain. Patiently, she let him speak, but it was hard to get any kind of description of the robber.

"All I saw…hoodie and bandana over his face…gloves…didn't say anything just…gun…all I could see was that barrel…and when I froze he grabbed me by the hair and hit me over and over."

"Did you open the cash register, or did he?"

"I did. He just grabbed the money and ran."

"Was he black, white? How tall?"

"I…I couldn't tell. Always thought I'd be a good witness, but when it's happening…tunnel vision, you know? That gun barrel at pointblank range…" The young man took another sip and added shakily, "5'8" maybe, thin."

"What else was he wearing? Did you see a car?"

The clerk shook his head.

"Do you have a security camera?"

The clerk winced and touched his face gingerly. "No. That's a fake." And he pointed at the plastic camera.

Sara sighed sympathetically. Patted his arm and told him to go home. Looked around and realized that again she had nothing to collect or go on and the case would probably never be solved. She finished her notes, packed up and drove back to the lab.

Again, not one of her team was there. A call to the morgue told Sara the John Doe in the desert was a very low priority. It might be days before a prelim. She got another cup of coffee and typed up her reports, feeling like a failure with nothing to show for her night. When day shift trickled in she left the reports on Grissom's desk and clocked out.

Nights slipped by as she was sent to one scene after another by herself. Robberies, burglaries, simple assaults, trick rolls. She closed a few but most were dead ends. She felt drained and disappointed. Once in a while, she saw the team in a conference room with the door closed, avidly discussing the serial rapes and murders. The only time she went into Grissom's empty office was to deposit paperwork on his desk. They barely spoke.

When her home phone rang as she was getting ready for bed, she pounced on it. Knocking over a clock and two books as she did. Sara didn't care.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Sara." Grissom's voice was like honey.

"Oh, thank God!" It was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears, she was so glad to hear from him.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh…I just…I was…"

"Is this a bad time?" he sounded unsure.

"No! No, I was so hoping it was you!" Sara cringed at her schoolgirl eagerness.

There was a smile in his voice. "I've missed you too."