Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

AN: Meh. I'm supposed to be working on my Silas Marner essay, among other homework, but this had more entertainment value.

I throw the door of my fridge open and glare at the contents. I'm almost out of alcoholic beverages. I'd wonder how that happened, but I'm me, and I have serious issues. There's nothing to wonder about.

I let out a snort of laughter and grab one of the remaining beers before marching over to the couch. What a day. I envy Greg—I might not like hospitals, but being barely conscious sounds wonderful right now. Unfortunately, I don't have enough beer in my fridge to get the job done.

So many things went wrong today. Only one of them isn't my fault. Me getting almost blown up. I'm positive that isn't my fault. I prefer clean suicide attempts. Getting little pieces of glass stuck in me is more interesting, sure, but it just doesn't work as well.

Running into that crime scene before it was cleared was definitely the most enjoyable instance of stupidity today. Brass lecturing me was less enjoyable, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.

Of course, without that little adrenaline rush, I probably never would have gathered up the courage to do something equally stupid.

…Not that it was really stupid. The outcome just made me feel like it was.

I groan and rub a tired hand over my face. Why didn't I let it go when he said 'no'? That's what I should have done. But no, I had to push. 'No' was a hell of a lot simpler than 'I don't know what to do about this'. A possible solution presented itself, Grissom. I guess you were just enjoying the indecisiveness too much to see that, though.

I roll my eyes and contemplate throwing the bottle in my hand at the wall. It would make a satisfying crashing noise, but that's about it. Beer and glass would get everywhere. Even if I didn't have a gash in one palm, that would be a pain to clean up.

Why did Grissom have to say no? I could be enjoying a quiet dinner with him right now instead of sitting here, alone with my none-too-comforting thoughts.

And I would enjoy dinner with him. I've been thinking about asking him out since the mess with Hank. I don't really know why, considering I can't pinpoint exactly what attracts me to him. …Geez. Maybe I do. He's safe.

I slam the beer bottle down on my coffee table, only slightly relieved when I don't see any cracks in either. I rest my head in my hands and stare blankly at the floor.

How the hell am I supposed to protect myself from Catherine now?

I close my eyes and try to banish the thought echoing around my brain. No. No way in hell is that the reason behind the third thing that went wrong today. I'm being ridiculous. Besides, I wouldn't focus my attention on someone just to avoid my feelings for someone else. I'm better than that.

…Good God, Sidle. You are in some serious trouble.