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Chapter 3
At first, when Brass insisted on driving her to the hospital, Sara was annoyed. She was a grown woman, more than capable of driving herself. But once they were in his car, she realized that he was right. The prospect of seeing Mandy again was making her mind race and her hands shake. She was in no condition to drive.
Grissom stood at the window of the hotel room, watching Brass' car pull away.
"They leave?" He turned to see Catherine standing next to him. He nodded.
"Brass gave me Sara's car keys, so I guess I'll leave it parked at the lab."
Catherine look at him squarely. "Gil, I know you're concerned."
Grissom cut her off. "Don't start this, Catherine. The scene's not done being processed"
"Warrick and I can handle it. I think you should go over to the hospital."
He gave her an incredulous look. "The hospital?" he whispered furiously. "Why, so I can make Sara even more upset than she was when she left? I'm the last person she wants to see. I've been expecting her resignation to show up on my desk for the past four months."
Catherine's lips twitched, trying to disguise her victory. "Oh? What happened four months ago?"
His eyes narrowed. She knew. How could she know?
"Hey boss?" Warrick came up to them, holding his kit. "We're all set here. I'll run everything over to Trace."
"I'll come with you!" Catherine said brightly. The two CSI's headed out the door before Grissom could say a word.
He looked around and saw that the scene had indeed been processed completely. Suddenly feeling very tired, he walked out of the parking lot and unlocked Sara's car. After adjusting the mirrors and seat, he allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe in the scent of Sara. It was a combination of coffee, shampoo, sweat, and apples, and it made him feel lightheaded. He remembered feeling the same way four months ago.
Grissom shook his head."It is difficult to say who do you the most harm: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best," he quoted aloud. His voiced echoed in the car, making him feel even alone.
How had things gotten to this point? It was a question he came back to often.
He remembered how dark her eyes looked when she had asked him the question. He could have lost himself in those eyes.