Catherine and Sara sat across from each other at a hightop table. The bar was far enough off the strip so that the vibe was more local than tourist. Sara took a rather large first gulp of her beer. She'd been suspicious of Catherine's invitation, given this was the first time she'd extended such a curtsy to Sara in the two years she'd lived in Vegas.

While Catherine wasn't as hostile toward Sara as she'd been initially, they were a far cry from being friends.

"How are you holding up?" Catherine's eyes were soft, it wasn't her typical probing demeanor.

"Fine." Sara spoke with a small tilted shake of the head.

"Today was rough." Catherine offered. "For the whole team."

"Hard to believe Gerard was ever Grissom's mentor." She spoke honestly. She'd been thinking about that most of shift.

"About that." Catherine cut through her thoughts, "I'm sorry they made you out that way on the stand today. Gerard was trying to sully Grissom's reputation more than yours. Do you even know what they were referring to? The chalk dust?"

"Oh." Sara took another swig of beer, "It wasn't like that. We'd been taring down plaster and drywall all day."

Catherine nodded knowingly, "Messy." A double entendre?

"Mmmhmm."

"You and Grissom—" She considered her words, a little hesitant but before she could finish her statement Sara was shaking her head no.

"I've actually been dating Hank… Petigrew."

"That cute EMT? Well done, Sara."

Sara blushed at this as she celebrated internally for having easily gotten off the topic of Grissom.

"Still early investigative stages." She offered with a smile.

Catherine and Sara stayed for a short while longer, finishing their drinks and pontificating over recent findings and cases. It had been the first time they'd really bonded and Sara was enjoying herself more than she expected.

February 2003

"Are you losing your hearing?"

"I'm losing my balance."

"Your sense of self?"

"No, I know who I am."

Grissom stood in close proximity to Heather Kessler. He was staring at her lips. She'd been right, he was losing his hearing. And her acute intuition amazed him. He'd never met someone quite like Heather. Exotic, mysterious, smart. Their paths had crossed a couple times now. He'd welcomed each interaction with excitement. He enjoyed her presence, it had a sort of evening effect on him. It was also nice to be with someone who had no relation to work. She was a wonderful respite.

He was now touching either side of her face. He could feel the warmth of her skin below his finger pads.

He'd learned about Sara's relationship with Hank nearly five months ago. He'd been surprised at how it made him feel. A complex swirl of jealousy, sadness and understanding. She deserved someone young that could make her happy. He realized that any freight attempt at being that person for her would end poorly. That even if she returned those feelings, he'd never live up to the man she needed or deserved.

He'd done such a good job compartmentalizing his feelings for Sara since finding out about Hank he'd been curious as to why he hadn't done that originally. And now, he stood in front of someone new. Someone different. Someone who also saw him.

"You can always say stop." His voice was horse with desire.

"So can you." She retorted. He moved closer to her and took her lips in his. But it didn't feel as right as he'd expected. Still, they made their way to a room down the hall. Afterward, he'd felt sad. The tall walls he'd built to keep Sara out of his mind were crashing down. Heather was wonderful in so many ways, but she wasn't Sara.

The next morning, Grissom and Heather enjoyed a pot of tea together.

"Your mind is elsewhere. Who is she?

Remarkable. He thought. Her ability to read him boarded on psychic. But he shook his head to dismiss it.

"Last night, was I a consolation prize?"

"No." He spoke plainly. "But If I'm honest, I think moving forward this should be…" He gestured between the two of them, "Platonic."

"The term Platonic was initially coined to mock non-sexual relationships, as it was considered ridiculous to separate love and sex."

"Exactly." His face was bright with admiration. She gets it.

"And for you, those two things are…"

"Inextricably linked." He shrugged in resignation.

"I see. Well Dr. Grissom…" She sat back in her chair and brought the delicate tea cup to her lips, "I hope you get her."

Sadness tugged at his features. He'd convinced himself not to consider it. But every time he dipped his toe in, he would get pulled in all over again. Ultimately, it did not matter weather they were platonic or not. There would be no contact moving forward. Grissom had ruined that the minute he'd reported her diabetic status to Brass—a key piece of evidence for the case.

March 2003

Not one month later and the gossip train was making stops up and down the lab hallways. Sara and Hank split after she'd learned, while investigating a case no less, that Sara had been the other woman in a lengthy affair Hank orchestrated.

She'd wished she'd been surprised. Doug was her only romantic companion that didn't end in some sort of betrayal. But even though she wasn't surprised, she was still hurt.

Eventually the wind carried that gossip past Grissom's ears. He'd learned of the situation from Catherine as she brought him up to speed on the case.

"Oh." Was the only words he'd been able to utter in response. After a long beat, which Catherine left space for him to take, he added, "Is uh— is she alright?"

Catherine looked deep into her friends eyes and saw genuine concern resting there. True empathy and a hint of sadness.

"She's a tough cookie." Catherine dismissed his concern easily, "She'll be fine."

Grissom nodded in agreement but still his core felt heavy and sad. This job gave him a front row seat to all the ugly things people could do to each other. And yet, he still couldn't understand and someone could treat her like that.

May 2003

Grissom and Sara had barely worked more than a handful of cases together in nearly eight months. Since October. Sara could feel that this wasn't an accident or act of happenstance. No, it was a calculated move on his part, she was sure of it. And she wanted to know why. Had she done something wrong? She was eating her lunch in the break room when she spotted him out of the corner of her eye, walking briskly down the hallway.

Now or never. She stood to catch up to him. Each time she got close, someone would pull him away; into a lab, down a different route, into a layout room… until he was pulled into his office to discuss something with the door closed.

She sighed in defeat. Even getting a few minutes to talk to him was near impossible these days. She'd have to try again before the end of shift.

She turned around to walk back to the break room. Heat came rolling onto her face in a sudden spark of light. Glass rained down around her as her body hit the ground, hard. Everything went black momentarily. When she'd come back to, she found herself laying on the floor. Greg was being wheeled away on a stretcher—she must have been out for a while. Grissom walked along side Greg, diligently by his side. In all the chaos, no one had noticed her laying here.

Finally she found her way back to balance and slowly stood herself up. Glass slipped off her body. Shards continued to fall off her as she walked out of the lab to the parking lot. The sunlight hit her eyes hard. She was still in a daze and quickly chose to sit herself down on the curb.

She sat there watching the EMTs rushing around her. Grissom stood nearby Greg as he was loaded into the ambulance. She'd turned her attention back to the ground.

Grissom walked away from the EMTs toward the building. His eye caught a glimpse of her. She was sitting alone, almost child-like, causing him to double take. "Sara?" His feet swiftly moved him toward her. He crouched down in front of her and said her name again, "Sara?"

She looked up slowly, her reaction time severely delayed. He finally got a look at her face as she rose her eyes to his. Small cuts across her cheeks, on her forehead, in her hairline. The cuts shimmered in the light from the embedded glass fragments. He searched her eyes. She seemed elsewhere.

Then he looked down. Her left palm sported a deep gash with a large glass fragment in the wound's track. "Honey." He picked her hand up and held it gently in his, "This doesn't look good."

"I'm fine. Really."

"You need stitches." He urged. Not letting go of her hand. There was so much commotion around her but it was all just registered as a blur to Sara. She couldn't comprehend any of it. He stood and softly guided Sara to do the same. He called out for a paramedic. An EMT came jogging into view.

"Sara." She looked up to see Hank standing there, another EMT by his side. He stammered a bit, "Jack can get you stitched up."

"Thanks." Grissom said cooly. Jack stepped forward and took Sara's hand from Grissom's hold. He watched as the EMT guided Sara to the back of an ambulance to clean her up.

"You, uh, got a minute." Sara's voice was small.

"I was just leaving." His voice cold like it had been around her often lately.

"Yeah, the board says you're off tonight."

"I am."

"Me too." She considered her original reason for following him through the lab earlier. Considered confronting him on his behavior toward her, like that cool tone he took with her now. But the explosion shook something in her. She didn't want to fight with him. She wanted a real chance and seeing if something was there between them.

"You should be on paid leave."

"I'm fine." She worked to keep her voice in an assuring tone.

"You were lucky. And I'm not talking about the explosion."

"You spoke to Brass?"

"And Nick." He watched as she thumbed over the thick bandages on her palm.

She'd thought that moment was behind her. She'd stepped out of protocol and entered the premises of a suspect while Brass and his team were still clearing the apartment.

"We got the guy." She offered.

"Is that all you have to say?" He was annoyed with her actions. Putting herself in harms way unnecessarily. But he had too much on his mind to lecture her right now. He pulled a card from his rolodex. The contact information for the ENT surgeon his doctor had recommend. He'd finally decided to take action, on one of his problems at least. The other one was standing in front of him.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"No…" His voice trailed off in a mix of confusion and perhaps slight bafflement.

"Why not?" She quipped back fast as if she expected that initial rejection, "Let's have dinner, see what happens." Her eyes locked on his.

"Sara." He sighed outwardly, "I—I don't know what to do about this." He motioned between them with his hand.

She didn't break her eye contact. Didn't look down in retreat like she may have previously, "I do." She smiled sadly, "You know Gil," His eyes flickered a shade of deeper blue at the sound of his first name leaving her lips, "by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late."

She didn't wait for a response, instead she left his presence without another word. He watched her walk down the hallway and for the first time, it really hit him. Just how real his reading of their situation was. It wasn't one sided. She wanted him, too. For reasons he couldn't fathom. But he didn't have time for that now. He had a surgery to schedule.

Sara spent that night alone in her apartment like she so often did. She felt foolish for putting herself out there like that but she knew she had to. She couldn't keep on with the push and pull between them. She needed a concrete answer. Even if she didn't like the one she got. But she couldn't shake the look she'd seen on his face when she said the words to him, "You really could be too late." Did that shock him? Strike fear in him? The idea that she may not wait around. That he could miss the boat.

At least now, she knew without much doubt that these feelings were not one sided. However, if he had no intention on acting on it, much less admitting it to himself, there was't much she could do about it. The sad realization caused her features to relax.