Brass continued to lean against his doorframe, watching his friend as he gazed at the same page he'd been "reading" for the last five minutes. Frowning slightly, the homicide captain cleared his throat and took a step into the room.

Grissom looked up. His face was drawn and his eyes looked tired and dull as he acknowledged Jim. Making no attempt to hide his displeasure at the interruption, "What can I do for you, Jim?"

"I thought you might want to take a break and grab some lunch with me. It's been a while." He stood, waiting for the answer he knew he'd get. He didn't have to wait long.

"I'm kind of swamped right now, Jim. Rain check?"

Jim brought the take out bag from behind his back and dropped it on the desk in front of the grave shift supervisor. "I thought that's what you'd say so I brought lunch to you. Roast beef on rye with a side of pasta salad. You've got to eat, Gil."

Grissom looked from the bag to his long time friend. "I appreciate the thought, but I really am quite busy right now and not especially hungry."

Jim rolled his eyes, sighed loudly and sat down on the chair in front of the desk. "Listen, Gil. I get it. It's been a hell of a bad time lately. We've all been through the ringer and none more than you, but you can't keep doing this."

"I'm not doing anything." Grissom snapped. He knew Jim meant well, but he just needed to be left alone. He wasn't prepared for the well meaning intervention. And the last thing he needed at the moment was a pep talk.

"That's exactly my point!" Jim snapped back, trying his best to be patient. He knew the man before him was hurting but he refused to watch his friend just quit on life. "You work doubles nearly every day. If there's no case for you to work than you hole up in here pretending to do paperwork, but I've heard Ecklie bitching about how behind you are on paperwork so it's obvious you're not getting that done. You're hiding and what's worse, you're pulling away and shutting your team out of your life. They're hurting too, Grissom, and they need you. Nicky lost his best friend. When's the last time you worked a case with him? When's the last time you asked how he's holding up? When's the last time you said anything to him besides telling him what the nights assignment is? Greg's struggling and you haven't even noticed."

Grissom threw up his hand to stop Jim's rant. "I am the last person Greg wants to talk to right now. He blames me for…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. He blames you for Sara leaving again. You need to squash that. They look up to you…ALL of them do, even Greg and half the reason he's so pissed is because you're doing nothing!"

Grissom slammed his fist down on his desk. "What do you expect me to do? I can't bring Warrick back and I can't bring Sara home! She made up her mind! Do you think this is what I wanted?! I am just trying to…to..live with it." He started out passionately and ended on an exhausted whisper, his head hanging, not able to meet Brass' eyes anymore.

The pain in his friend's voice and the defeat in his entire being took the wind out of Jim's sails. His own voice softer as he responded. "But that's just it, Gil. You're not living. You're existing and barely at that. I understand that this is…beyond hard. We all understand that. But they need you, Gil. Even if you're struggling, struggle with them. All I'm saying is…don't shut them out. We care about you."

The silence was heavy as Jim waited for some kind of response from Grissom. Having any kind of emotionally involved conversation with the man across from him had always been like pulling teeth but lately, it had been worse than he could ever remember. He wanted to help his best friend but he didn't know how. He'd lost a man who was like a son to him and then the woman he loved had walked out on him for a second time.

"I just need time, Jim. To figure out how to do this again. And I need to do that on my own. No one can help me, not unless you can tell me why." Grissom said quietly.

Jim shook his head. "I wish I could, pal. But I don't think that's an answer any of us can give you. I'm not even sure Sara could."

The clipped chuckle that dripped from Grissom's lips was sad and bitter. "Well, I guess that's that then isn't it. Maybe there is no why. Maybe I just have to learn to live with it. But I'm not there yet and I don't know when I will be." He picked his pen back up and went back to his file. "Thanks for the sandwich. I'll eat it a little later. Right now I have reports to finish. As you mentioned earlier, I'm behind on paperwork."

Brass knew the conversation was over. He pushed himself out of the chair and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, he heard Gil say his name and he turned around hoping for something positive.

Without bothering to look at him, Grissom merely asked, "Shut my door on your way out, please."

"No problem." Brass grunted and closed the door behind him.

Catherine was tired and frustrated. She'd hoped that the shower she was stepping out of would ease the tension in her muscles but it had done little to bring her any relief. Night shift was hanging on by a thread. Everyone was trying to grieve the loss of Warrick and get back to some semblance of a normal routine, but they were short staffed and hurting, worried about each other and angry at the world in general right now.

Clad only in a towel, Catherine wiped the condensation from her bathroom mirror and stared blankly into it. She looked a mess. Her head and her heart were in turmoil. Despite the fact that Warrick had been married, separated and getting a divorce though he was, a part of her had always held out hope that they would find a way to each other. She'd even had a plan…sort of. She'd thought she would give him time to get everything with Tina squared away and, of course, give him time to grieve the loss of his marriage. She had planned to make sure he remembered that she was his friend and would be there for him. And once he was in a better place, emotionally, she was going to start taking the necessary steps in letting him know that she wanted more than just his friendship.

There had always been an undeniable attraction between them, even if neither of them had ever had the guts to act on it. She didn't know what exactly his reasons for never doing anything about them had been. Probably the same reasons she hadn't. Relationships with co workers was a tricky river to navigate. If the romantic relationship didn't work out, it could be hell working together. They had a strong team and Catherine was afraid to upset the balance. And Warrick was such a good friend. One of the few men she knew she could count on without a shadow of a doubt. If they tried a romantic relationship and it didn't work, would she lose that friendship? She hadn't been willing to risk that. She always told herself that there was time, and timing, after all is important.

Then Nick had been taken and the next thing she knew, Warrick was a married man. There was no more time. She'd waited too long and her chance was over. A love she had longed for belonged to someone else now and she was left with heartbreak and regret.

Things got crazy from there. Natalie taking Sara, the team finding out about Grissom and her. The team getting back together and then Sara was on another shift and then Sara left and Grissom was a mess. He shut down again, back to the shadow he was before he and Sara. As if all that wasn't enough, Warrick and Tina broke apart. Catherine was hopeful that she may still have a chance, but then Warrick began acting out of sorts; late to call outs and either looking like he hadn't slept in weeks or looking like he was going to come out of his skin. Then the nightmare with Gedda happened and in the blink of an eye he was gone. Just when they'd all thought they were putting that behind them…she closed her eyes as the mental picture of Gil covered in Warrick's blood flooded her mind.

Eyes still closed, she turned from the mirror and padded barefoot into her bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she refused to acknowledge the tears dripping down her cheeks. She let herself fall back, resting on her mattress and staring up to the ceiling. The next several weeks rolled through her mind like a movie reel she couldn't turn off. In true Catherine fashion, she had tried to put her loss behind her in all the wrong ways. First, she attempted to ignore her feelings, telling herself that it probably wouldn't have worked out between her and Warrick anyway. Then she had set her mind on finding a man to distract her and find one she did. He was head of security for The Mirage. Handsome with a questionable past of womanizing to which he swore up and down were behind him after he'd caught his wife in bed with another man and he "got a taste of his own medicine". Things had been going relatively well with Tom. It was casual but good. He made her laugh, treated her well and seemed like someone she could count on. He understood that her work meant that sometimes she had to leave in the middle of things and he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Saying, "It's not as if my job doesn't get in the way sometimes, babe. Do what you gotta do."

She had just begun thinking maybe they could start exploring something a little less casual when she stopped by his apartment one night, having finished up a case sooner than expected. She'd picked up dinner and had hoped to surprise Tom. Boy did she! Letting herself in with the code he had given her, Catherine had put the takeout on the counter in his kitchen, slipped off her shoes and padded silently down the hall toward his room. The door was slightly ajar and the light off so she thought maybe he had gone to bed early. She grinned, thinking how she could wake him up in a way both of them would enjoy. Pushing the door open quietly, she was met with an unexpected and unpleasant sight. Her boyfriend, naked, pounding an equally naked blonde against his bedroom wall. The girl's eyes had grown huge as she and Catherine locked gazes from across the room and the young woman's gasp of "Tommy!" caught his attention. Her legs slid from around his waist to the floor as Tom turned his upper body to face a stunned Catherine.

He frowned, dipped his head briefly and then looked back up at her. "I thought you had to work tonight." he said simply.

Catherine shook her head in disbelief and scoffed "I can see that." she spit out, her anger rising steadily.

"Look, Cath…" he began.

Catherine raised her hand to silence whatever bullshit excuse was about to come out of his cheating mouth. "Don't worry about. Have a nice life, Tom." And with that she spun on her stocking heel and headed fast for the door. She scooped up her shoes and was in her car pulling out of his driveway before the first teardrop fell. It wasn't even that she really had deep feelings for him, she realized as she made her way home to an empty house. It was that she just never seemed to be able to find a guy who wasn't a lieing, cheating snake in the grass.

Starting to feel chilled by the central air cooling her home, Catherine stood from her bed and made her way to her closet. The old thoughts of "Why can I not meet a decent guy? What is wrong with me that I'm not worth the effort?" came crowding back into her mind. She tore an outfit from the hangers and hurriedly dressed, glad that Lindsey and her mother were visiting her Aunt in California for the week.

Less than 20 minutes later, Catherine was in her car and headed to The Dive, a bar the team sometimes stopped at to get drinks after shift. True they hadn't done that in some time but it was a good little bar and at this time of day it usually wasn't very busy. It was far enough off the strip that it wasn't a hot spot for tourists. Just the type of place you could drown your sorrows in and be left alone to do it.

He was starting to question his choice of seating after an hour of sitting on the stool at the bar. His back was sore from lack of support. Grissom slugged back another shot of whiskey and laid the empty glass heavily on the bar, catching the attention of the bartender at the other end of the bar. The man raised the bottle in his hand and Grissom nodded. Soon there was another full shot in front of him and Grissom curled his fingers around it again. Before he could raise the glass to his lips, he heard a familiar voice beside him ask for a shot glass and then instructed the bartender to leave the bottle.

He turned bleary eyes on the woman now sitting on the once empty stool beside him. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Catherine tipped the bottle, filling her glass with the amber liquid and simply said, "What do you think." She tipped the glass back and he watched her swallow it down. Catherine turned her head and watched him carefully. With a shrug, Grissom threw back the shot and placed his empty glass on the bar top once more. Without a word Caherine filled both their glasses, tapped his glass and muttered, "Cheers."

For the next hour, neither said much. The remainder of the bottle disappeared and another full bottle appeared. Catherine turned to him and asked, "So, do you do this often?"

He looked at her with turned down lips and a raised eyebrow, answering "I couldn't stand being in that empty house another night." She raised her full glass to him again and swallowed down the liquid like it was water. As she turned fully back to the bar, she swayed a little on her stool and Grissom reached out a hand to steady her.

"Catherine, are you alright?"

She lowered her head and shook it slowly. "I couldn't stand being alone with myself another night." Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. "I'm so tired of being alone, Gil" she whispered.

His only answer was to pick up the bottle and fill both of their glasses again. After another hour, the bartender appeared before them and took the bottle away. "I think its time I call a cab for you two."

Catherine raised her head, looking none too pleased and began to argue. Grissom, who had been holding his head in his hands for the last ten minutes trying to get the room to stop spinning, lifted his hand and placed it on Catherine's arm causing her to stop mid rant and look over at him. He pulled his wallet from his pants and laid his credit card on the bar. Without a word, the bartender rang them out and called them a cab.

Grissom managed to slid off his stool and held a shaky hand out to her, helping her down from her stool. Leaning on each other they slowly made their way to the door. Neither was aware how much time they stood on the sidewalk but before long they were falling into a cab and Catherine gave the driver her address.

The driver waited until the drunk couple disappeared behind the door before he pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the strip. Catherine pulled a swaying Grissom into her living room and nodded toward the couch. "It's comfortable. Or if you prefer, Linds is gone for the week, you can sleep in her bed." Her only answer was the very drunk entomologist dropping heavily onto her couch. Catherine nodded and staggered through her bedroom to her bathroom and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Shaking out two small pills, she dropped the bottle on her nightstand as she staggered back into the kitchen where she retrieved two bottles of water. She placed the bottle and pills on the end table by the couch and reached over Grissom, who was now passed out on it, and placed the thrown over him. Once more she staggered to her bedroom and stripped out of her clothes before crawling under her covers in her bra and panties. She rolled onto her side, curled up into herself and closed her eyes, praying for sleep.