I sigh in satisfaction as I put my feet up in the break room.

It has been a long day, and to me, there is nothing better than few minutes of solitude before the rush of the evening starts.

The next thing I know, in storms Sara Sidle, cursing and clumping around like she has ants in her pants. And I certainly knew about ants in pants, after that unfortunate incident where Gil and I took Lindsey on a picnic and I sat on an ant's nest. To Gil's credit (and the fact he is still alive), he was been very good about it and never mentioned the incident again.

I wrestle with my conscience. On one hand, it's probably rude just to sit here and let her act out when she is trying so hard to make someone listen to her. On the other hand, this is my last half hour before work starts and I just wanted to be left alone! Damn my good manners.

"Is everything okay, Sara?"

"Bad day."

Leave it to me to be nosy. "Man troubles?"

"He said no! Again!"

Geez, you'd think the girl would get a hint. "I'm sorry."

"And it's not as if he actually said no either! He subtly works his way around it, while still crushing every little hope I ever had!"

Now there's a subject I can help with. Perhaps I can be all girly, ya-ya sisterhood type of thing. "Oh I know! Guys do it all the time! For example, Grissom! His classic response to all situations he wants to get out of without hurting your feelings is 'I don't know what to do about this!' I mean, I leave him to babysit Lindsey one night and she asks him if she can go to an Eminem concert. Now, would a simple 'no' satisfy Grissom? Of course not! He just says 'I don't know what to do about this.' Biiig trouble when I get home, that's for sure. If a woman asks him out on a date, and he would never in a million years go out with her, he doesn't just say no. He says 'I don't know what to do about this!' It drives me mad!" I finish my little rant, and realise Sara is staring at me. "Ah, sorry about that. I'm still battling with Lindsey over Eminem."

I wish somehow I had a magazine or something that I could pretend to be reading. Her staring at me is slightly uncomfortable. "So, anyway," I say, trying to shift her focus, "men tend to do that sometimes." "You know a lot about Grissom, don't you?"

"You can't be friends with someone for over fifteen years and not know a lot about them."

"And he knows a lot about you."

I am starting to sense this is not going in a good direction. "Uh, yeah. A lot more than he needs to, I'm sure." I decide it's safer not to talk about Grissom anymore. "So, tell me about the guy. Maybe you can change his mind."

Sara looks at me as if I have two heads. "We were talking about him. Grissom."

Oh shit. "Huh?"

"The first time I asked him out, he said, "I don't know what to do about this."

Oh shit.

"Then today I decided to try it your way. I asked if he wanted to have sex, take our minds off the job."

My mind goes sideways. "I'm sorry, my way?"

"You know what I mean, Catherine. Surely I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. Everyone knows you've been doing the boss for years."

If I had been drinking anything, it would have been expelled during my splutter. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"There's no need to be coy, Catherine. We're both adults."

Suddenly I'm not so sure about that. "Sara, I don't know where you've been getting these ideas from, but Grissom and I have never."

"That's not the point anymore, is it? I want him. And I'm going to have him."

I raise an eyebrow. "Grissom's not something you buy and sell on the marketplace, Sara. If he said no, he said no."

"Oh, because you know him so well, don't you? Inside and out I'm sure."

My mind is still trying to process this new information. I'm wondering what the hell has come over Sara. I mean, I knew she was a little ga-ga over the man, but not psycho stalker obsessive.

"Um, Sara, maybe you should calm down a little."

"I never thought he would go for a stripper though."

I'm beginning to get pissed off. Although, I must allow for the fact that Sara may be on drugs. But then again, wouldn't they be happy pills?

"Sara, you're getting way out of line here," I warn, not wanting this to get ugly.

"I'M getting out of line? You're screwing the boss! No wonder you've got seniority."

Okay, that's it. I won't kill her, but I certainly don't mind getting my claws out on occasion. "I am not sleeping with Grissom. And yes, you are getting way out of line." I glare at her. "And somehow, I don't think Grissom goes for moping girls half his age that swoon everytime he walks into the room!"

"I do not swoon! At least I'm not constantly flirting with him like a whore."

Did she just call me what I think she just called me? Bitch!

"Back off Sara. I'm really warning you now."

"You're warning me? I should report you for half of the crap you get away with. At least with me, Grissom can expect a mature relationship."

I raise an eyebrow. "Mature? Do you have any idea what Grissom wants in life? Do you know his feelings, his desires?" I smirk at her. "I do. I know what he wants. I know what he feels. He didn't tell you about his surgery, did he? You may have asked him out, but I'm the one he calls his wife. I'm the one he offers to make love to."

Sara's eyes are popping out of her head.

BAM! SHOT DOWN!

I feel like doing a little victory dance, but I think that would be childish. But then again, I'm the one she's accusing of being childish aren't I? I better not. I've noticed out of the corner of my eye that a little crowd is forming, headed up by Greg Sanders. Perhaps I better wind this up.

"Sara, this is neither the time nor the place. If you have a problem with me."

"This is definitely the time and the place. You're constantly unprofessional, Catherine, particularly around Grissom, and I think this is the best place to discuss it."

I'm sorry, I'M unprofessional? Where the hell did that come from?

"Unprofessional? I'm not the one going ga-ga like some psycho obsessive stalker over a man that is clearly not interested! Get over yourself, Sara."

"You swan around here in your low cleavage tops, flirting with every man that works here. I mean, what kind of work can you expect them to do when their equipment is short-circuiting because they drool on it?"

Okay, first of all, ew. Second of all, someone is going to DIE.

"Your life span is shortening through each word that comes out of your mouth."

Sara shudders in front of me. "Ooh, I'm scared. Big, bad Catherine's gonna come get me."

I raise an eyebrow. What the hell is this woman ON?

"Uh, Sara, have you taken anything recently? Anything you're not used to taking?"

"Oh sure, just because the hooker wants Grissom, I'M on drugs!"

Um, yes, that's what I was getting at. And what the fuck does she think she's talking about, calling me a hooker! You know that really, really pisses me off, when people assume that exotic dancers are hookers!

"You know what? Kiss my ass, Sara! I have better things to do than listen to your whining and pitiful arguments. At least I've lived! At least I don't sit at home, ordering takeout and crap from catalogues on the computer. I have human interaction. And you know what? I was a damn good exotic dancer. I'm a damn good CSI. And so what if the men here drool over me? It makes me feel good. Although the way you're going, I'm not sure you'll ever know what it feels like." I pick up my bag. "And by the way. Stay the hell away from Gil Grissom."

"Excuse me?"

I turn around, and walk over to her, standing toe to toe. "I said stay the hell away from Gil Grissom. Do you need me to repeat that another time?"

"Or what?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What are you going to do to me?"

I narrow my eyes. "Do you really want to find out?"

"I'm not scared of you, Catherine."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"But really, there can't be that much of a competition. A divorced, ex-cocaine addict stripper? What kind of shot do you really think you have?"

"You're a bitch, Sara. Go back to your hole and stay there. Continue being a hermit for all I care. I'm done with you."

I feel the slap before I see it coming. It stings and I'm about to retaliate when I hear that voice.

"What the HELL is going on here?"

Oh shit.