The halls of CSI were relatively quiet; swing shift weren't known for their exuberance, and Sara noticed more than a few members of the team blearily packing up evidence and shuffling papers on her way to Catherine's office. Sara sat opposite Catherine's desk, drinking from a mug of coffee she had acquired from a brief visitation to the break room after deciding that whatever it was the boss wanted that would take an hour was bound to require an extra dose of caffeine. Catherine herself was absent, so Sara waited patiently, slipping into a sort of meditative trance and reliving the last few hours.
"I need a damn clone to keep track of all this paperwork so I can solve crimes," cried the blonde, marching in and slamming a foot high stack of files down on the table. Sara jumped, almost leaping out of her chair in shock.
"Hello to you too," she said. Catherine dropped into her chair with a sigh.
"Sorry. Thanks for coming."
"No problem. I needed to talk to you anyway."
"You did? Why?"
"You asked first," replied Sara, not sure exactly what she was going to say.
"No, go ahead," said Cath, shifting a stack of papers, looking for something.
"Ok, well, I was just wondering if you might have had any luck with the search for some new CSI's." Catherine looked up, her level gaze falling on the younger woman.
"Am I sensing that yes would be a good answer right now?" she asked. Sara shifted slightly in her seat and took a sip of coffee, stalling.
"Probably," she offered, finally.
"Where are you going?"
"New Hampshire."
"There are bugs there?"
"It's teaching job, at Dartmouth, mostly biology. Some guest lecture stuff too."
"What are you going to do?" asked Cath, leaning back in her chair and taking a mouthful of her own cup of coffee. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the cold beverage and put the mug down.
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll find something. It's only till the end of the year."
"But you don't want to stay here." Sara sighed, looking for the right words.
"It's not that I don't want to stay at the lab Catherine; I love it here, but I love Gil more." Catherine grinned at her co-worker.
"I'm happy for you, you know that. And I have it covered actually. There are three newbie's starting tomorrow; one for each shift to train, though swing will end up with the one from days eventually."
"Oh, right. Then if I give you two weeks you won't be mad."
"Nope."
"Ok. Can I work with Greg tonight?"
"Yes."
"Can I make a suggestion?"
"Yes."
"Let Greg work with the newbie, give him the responsibility of stepping up to be a teacher. I know he can do it. It would be a good experience for him, and it'll show him you trust him."
"When did you get to be so good at giving advice?"
"I'm just telling you what I see Cath, that's all," shrugged Sara, stretching her legs out in front of her and flexing her feet, wincing when her ankles cracked.
"You're right; it will be good for Greg."
"Hmmm. I want to tell Greg first, that I'm leaving, I mean."
"Sure, he'll miss you. He was really mad a Grissom when you left last time." Sara frowned.
"It wasn't Gil's fault; I tried to stay, I really did, but I couldn't. Not without losing myself and I couldn't let him see that." Catherine sat quietly, attentive to Sara's every word. The brunette was just as good as Grissom when it came to hiding any other facet of herself than her professional side.
"Anyway, that's in the past," continued Sara, draining her coffee. "Anything else?" she asked, smiling at Catherine.
"No. Here's your assignment, I saw Greg in the locker room a few minutes ago."
"See you later," concluded Sara, getting up and leaving the room. She stopped in the doorway of the locker room, leaning against the jam as Greg tied his shoes. "Hey, let's go," she called out. Greg looked up and Sara waved the case slip at him, grinning. "You're mine tonight. You can drive." She tossed him the keys. Greg caught them easily and stood up, raising an eyebrow but following her out.
"What have we got?" asked Greg, pulling out of the parking lot.
"B and E in Henderson, victim is at Desert Palms, broken bones, concussion."
"All right, bring it on."
...
The case was easy, the victim's brother had broken in through the back door, been surprised to find his sibling home and taken a baseball bat to him from behind before cracking the safe to steal jewels from the family inheritance. Reflecting on how the suspect had left his prints and the bat behind, and taken the loot straight to his own home, Sara wondered if she ought to enter him as dumbest criminal of the year in the departmental vote at the next softball game.
"So are you going to tell me?" asked Greg as they stopped at the diner before going back to the lab to write the case up.
"Tell you what?" asked Sara as she spread jam onto a slice of toast.
"Whatever it is you want to tell me."
"Who said I want to tell you anything?" asked Sara, pouring milk into her tea. Greg rolled his eyes.
"Please," he scoffed. "You let me drive, you let me take primary on the case, you've been quieter than normal all evening so far and you came in early and you were talking to Catherine in her office."
"Yeah, ok," sighed Sara, looking at him and feeling guilty. He was her best friend, and working with him over the last year and a half had been wonderful. How could she tell him without upsetting him? "I'm sorry, I just don't know how to say this."
"Where are you going?" asked Greg, a small, sad smile on his face. Sara stared at him. "I can read you like a book, Mrs Grissom; ever since you mentored me to CSI 1." Sara looked down, trying not to give her emotions away.
"Are you at least coming back?" Sara smiled at him.
"We're going to Dartmouth until Christmas. We'll probably be here sometime during the summer break to visit his mother and check on the house and everything. It's not forever, I promise."
"You better send me a postcard to add to my collection," he sighed, teasing her.
"Don't I always?" she asked.
"Yes mam, and I have them all on my refrigerator."
"Are you kidding?"
"No, I like the pictures, and it's a reminder that I want to travel one day."
"Well, we have Skype, which has to been one of the world's best inventions," said Sara, thinking of all the hours she and Gil had spent talking over the internet."
"I'm happy for you Sar, honestly. I'll miss you like crazy but you'll be back."
"Thanks Greg."
"So when's the ceremony?"
"How do you know about that? I only just got the approval a few weeks ago. Grissom is the only one who knows, and he's sworn to secrecy."
"I don't see why, the others will think it's great. And of course you passed; this is you we're talking about."
"I'm glad you have so much confidence in me," laughed Sara, "but seriously, I don't want a fuss. It's not that big a deal."
"Whatever you say," shrugged Greg, knowing a losing battle when he faced one. "So can I come visit you?" he asked, changing the subject. He would have to talk to Grissom when he got back.
"Of course," smiled Sara, "when's your next vacation?" they laughed and toasted friends with their tea and coffee.
...
Sara arrived home relieved that her day was over, that everything had gone ok with Catherine and that Greg was happy for her. She was even jazzed that her case had not involved any fatalities. In the living room a series of papers relating to Dartmouth College were spread over the couch and the coffee table. The kitchen counter had a note from Gil, saying he had taken Hank for a walk to the park. Sara showered and put on her most comfy sweats. The latest issue of Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Science had arrived the day before, so Sara settled herself on the bed with Romeo and Juliet and began to read.
...
Grissom and Hank wandered through the park, enjoying each other's company after prolonged separation; man and his best friend. Grissom checked his watch after what he thought was a few minutes watching an ant colony and realized his wife had finished her shift over an hour ago. Whistling for Hank, who had gone foraging in the bushes, Grissom headed home, picking up his ambling pace. The house was quiet when they walked in; Hank thundered into the kitchen to his water bowl then thumped himself down into his basket with all the grace of a charging rhinoceros. Grissom kicked off his shoes and hurried through the house, looking for his wife. Sara was fast asleep on the far side of the bed, his side, sprawled out on her front, her head facing the door and her hair curling wildly every which way. The two kittens, he wasn't sure which was which yet, were curled up with her; one draped over her neck and shoulder, the other wedged under her arm, pressed up against her side. Gil lay down on the bed next to her, watching with concern when she didn't even stir. Sara was not by nature a heavy sleeper, and she never came home from work and went to sleep immediately; she always needed time to relax and unwind. Concerned Grissom reached out to touch her forehead, wondering if she was unwell. She muttered under her breath.
"Sara honey?" he asked softly. The kitten on her shoulder yawned and stretched, wiggling to a new, more comfortable, position. Sara opened her eyes slowly and Grissom was alarmed at how exhausted she looked. "Hey," he whispered, stroking her face gently.
"Hi," she mumbled thickly.
"Are you ok?"
"Shattered," she replied, reaching out to him. Grissom quickly stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and helped her under the covers before crawling in next to her. Sara snuggled against his chest and her kittens redistributed themselves around her.
"How long have you been this tired?" he asked.
"Few weeks," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.
"Haven't you been sleeping?"
"Sleeping and running or walking with Hank. I'm ok until I stop, then I crash." Her voice was a little slurred, and within moments she was dead to the world in his arms. Grissom held her close, breathing in her unique scent, feeling her warm skin against his and letting her slow, steady breathing lull him into sleep with her. She would have told him is something was wrong or she was ill, but he would have to find out if there was anything else the matter when she woke up later. Trying to relax, he pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes.