When I first heard that Grissom was calling you in to investigate Hollyís murder, I hated that he was bringing in an outsider. It wasnít your fault; it just came across that he didnít trust us, and in hating that, I guess I hated you before we even met.
Then when you arrived, I hated that you were so quick to judge Warrick; that you seemed to think yourself above us. Sweeping in as if you had always been there, just because you had a history with Grissom.
Which brings me to the next thing I came to hate. He never mentioned you. When he returned from San Francisco he spoke very little of his time there. I mean, you know Grissom, small talk is not his forte. But when he called you to Vegas, I began to wonder exactly what sort of history the two of you shared. If you were that good a CSI, why hadnít he spoken of you? I hated that your connection existed and I didnít know the details.
And I hated that I was jealous. I shared a history of nearly twenty years with Grissom, and yet felt threatened by the presence of a stranger. Sure youíre younger, but, without sounding egotistical, I think I still look pretty good myself. Jealousy was not an emotion I was used to feeling, and I didnít like it.
As I adjusted to working with you, and seeing you fluttering your eyes at Grissom, and making your interest in him obvious, my jealousy subsided, as he seemed not to return your affections. This put to rest my intrigue about your shared past; even if something had happened in San Francisco, continuing that was clearly not on Grissomís agenda when he brought you onto our teamÖ I hated the feeling of superiority that generated inside me; the small voice in my head, gloating Catherine-one, Sara-zero. And I hated you for putting it there.
Time passed, your pursuit of Grissom continued, and what had started out as impatience for your constant hints, grew to hatred for your ignorance of his aversion. Not only because a part of me just wished youíd leave him alone, but also because, as a woman, it hurt to watch you do all but throw yourself at him, despite his lack of interest.
And then, a few months ago, I saw a look pass between you and I knew heíd changed his mind. And I hated the little voice that returned to my head, this time boasting Catherine-one, Sara-wins. Because I realised, as I listened to it gloat in the tones of your voice, that what I hate the most in all of this, is that all your flirting and chasing worked, and you got Grissom Ė and I donít hate you for it. Each time I see you with him, I donít feel jealous; I donít feel that it should be me; I donít feel that Iíve missed out. You have everything that for years I wanted, and yet thereís no trace of envy left within me.
Our friendship started the drift to non-existent a while ago, and clearly Iíve completely let him go.
After twenty-five years, we are nothing now but teammates.
I hate that it has come to that.
And I hate that I have no inclination to undo it.