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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 39 – Living Doll
SARA: …
GRISSOM:
My life is truly over. Sara has been kidnapped by a psychotic woman and I feel I am going to lose it. I would trade places with her right now if I could guarantee her survival. I feel that my heart can’t take much more of this and if anything were to happen to Sara, I’d blame myself and I’d probably go crazy. As I sit here writing all this out, the tears won’t stop falling from my eyes and onto my paper, but I feel if I recall all the events of the day, it might actually help.
We were finally closing in on the Miniature Crime Scene Killer, at Trevor Dell’s apartment investigating his death. Trevor was another one of Ernie’s Dell’s foster kids who we’ve been tracking down to see if he was the killer we had been looking for. Arriving at his apartment though, we found him already dead in the bathroom. I found a small miniature of a male figure in white clothes, all matching Trevor Dell, so I knew our Miniature Crime Scene Killer had already beat us there.
David showed up to take the body, but first did his preliminary examination. “Two distinct lacerations…one on the forehead, one on the back of the skull. Lividity is fixed. Decomp is pretty well developed.”
“Air-conditioning would have slowed that and accelerated mummification. Body's been sealed in the apartment. There's no insect activity. So much for TOD,” I said.
“Could be a couple of days to a few weeks.”
“Miniature Killer?” Sara asked, arriving at our crime scene. God, I wish she were here next to me right now.
I stood up and sighed, “It's hard to say. Haven't found a miniature of the scene yet. Just this.” I showed her an evidence bag with the miniature Trevor Dell doll inside it. “Clothes match. The…uh…vic's a part time nurse, but there's no blood on the doll, and it's not posed like the body.
“Bleach at the scene, just like the others.” She pointed out the bottle of bathroom cleaner with bleach on the floor next to the toilet. “Maybe this one wasn't planned. Maybe the killer has to make the miniature after the fact, which is why it's so cold in here, to preserve the body.”
I nodded at the possibility, “I don't think we can rule anything out. It's all yours, my dear.” She always hated when I called her “dear” at work.
Later, Sara, Warrick, Nick and I met in the break room to share our findings. I was barely listening, too confused and mad about this endless case. I looked up to see Sara talking and silently thanked god that she forgave me for our big fight last week and that we were doing so much better. We had gone away for the weekend, a short vacation to California to clear our heads and reconnect. Little did I know it may have been our last weekend together.
Then I walked out of the break room and walked away from Sara for the last time. It was the last time I’ve seen Sara since that bitch Natalie took her away from me. I didn’t get to say “I love you,” or touch her one more time or never mind.
The DNA off the Trevor miniature came back XX and that’s when we discovered our killer was actually a woman. And after doing some more digging on the internet and at a local hobby shop, we found out that our killer’s name was Natalie Davis, a name that will forever haunt me now.
After Catherine and I got back from questioning Natalie’s real father, who threw her into the foster system after she killed her sister by pushing her out of their tree house, I walked into my office and immediately saw a new miniature nightmare on my desk. How was she able to gain access to the lab, let alone my office?
I slowly leaned in to carefully study the miniature crime scene. It was an overturned red Mustang on top of a body, but the victim’s hand was outstretched in the sand and still moving.
I took a tissue and lifted the car off the victim and it was Sara. I almost fainted. No, god no. I dropped what I was holding and immediately called Jim who ran down to the garage with several officers and found her car. I was running around frantically with my cell phone in hand and just keep on hitting redial, hoping to get a hold of Sara and this could all be over.
I prayed for her to pick up the phone, that this was all some sick joke and we had figured it out soon enough, but when Jim called me and told me he had Sara’s cell and she was missing, I thought I would die. I was trying to hold it together in front of everyone, trying to repeat over and over to myself that no one else knew about our relationship and that if I freaked out too much people would get curious, but I had never been so scared in my life.
We figured out Natalie was on our janitorial staff and that’s how she was able to sneak into my office and set up the miniature. Greg, Nick, Warrick, Catherine and were in the layout room examining the miniature. When I walked in they were running the miniature car’s VIN number thru the computer. I couldn’t think, I was starting to sweat and my hands were beginning to shake uncontrollable. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold myself together.
Time to inform the others of what I had found, “Her name is Natalie Davis, and she works for our janitorial service…For over a month. She's never been arrested, so there's nothing to flag on a security check. She used Ernie Dell's address on her work form. She has no home phone and no driver's license.”
The computer beeped with a result and I held my breath. The monitor read:
2007 RED MUSTANG ACCIDENT
DATE: 04-04-07
TIME: 05:19 AM
LOCATION: ALLEY BEHIND THE TRIP WIRE BAR, FRINE ST. & DORISA AVE.
LEAD CSI: SARA SIDLE
STATUS: CLOSED
VICTIM: WELLER, NOLAND
CRIME SCENE DESCRIPTION: RED MUSTANG 2007 TURNED OVER, DRIVER NOLAND WELLER EJECTED FROM DRIVER’S SEAT, VICTIM TOXICOLOGY FOUND ALCOHOL IN SYSTEM
I told Greg to pull up the case photos because I was having trouble breathing, let alone recalling the details of a case from over a month ago, but I remember I had helped Sara with it. The first photo showed the two of us at the crime scene, with some bystanders behind us, including Natalie and then it hit me. Oh my god, she was at the crime scene.
Sara and I had been having a particularly flirty day. It was just a couple days after Sara’s really bad case where the young woman had died in her arms and I was still coddling her a little. I had been taking the camera from Sara and had slowly ran my hand down her bare arm and let my hand linger on her much longer then necessary and only removed it after I noticed the goosebumps run down her arm.
“So, she salvages the car, and somehow gets it out to the desert, and then grabs Sara, and puts her under it?” Nick asked as I’m getting more and more nervous. I’m gonna have to explain our relationship to the team to help them understand this case.
“I don't get it. What does Sara have to do with bleach?” Warrick asked. They were getting closer.
“I don't know. This just feels different,” Catherine said.
That’s when I decided that if it would save Sara, I would announce our relationship to the world, so here goes…
“It is different…This girl holds me responsible for the death of Ernie Dell. I took away the only person she ever loved, so she's going to do the same thing to me…It's not about a psychotic reaction to bleach, or some dead sister or the doll…NotUrLittleBisqueDoll…”
I had finally put two and two together and rushed out of the room. NotUrLittleBisqueDoll was Natalie’s user name online, so we were able to get her address, track her down and bring her in.
Natalie was in interrogation and I wanted to run in and beat her senseless until she told me where Sara was, but she’d never open up to me if I was aggressive. She was the type of psycho that needed me to bond with her first and gain her trust.
“Hi, Natalie. My name's Gil. It's so nice to finally meet you. I…uh…probably shouldn't say this, but…I'm a huge fan.” I was trying not to stutter, but I was becoming sick to my stomach facing the woman who abducted my girlfriend, “…I've been a crime scene investigator for 22 years. I've worked over two-thousand homicides, and you are by far…the best I've ever seen. I mean…you're such a great artist. And to be so young and so talented and…so pretty. I've thought about you every night for the last nine months. I even tried to do what you do. I built my own miniature. You saw it?” She nodded. “How'd I do?” She shrugged. “Do you play chess?” She shook her head no. “I play as a hobby. It quiets my mind, you know? Soothes me. At one point, I became so consumed by it that whenever I closed my eyes, I could see the chess pieces moving all around the board. I was obsessed with correcting all my bad moves. I wondered if a game could ever be played without a mistake. I'd love to play you sometime.” She finally smiled and I wondered if this whole charade would work. “I'm so impressed by the way you embrace your passion. You'd make a great CSI. This last one was brilliant. You studied our crime scene so well. Tracking the car to the junkyard and then towing it all the way out to the desert where you knew we wouldn't find it. And then…” the words caught in my throat, “…the way you killed Sara.”
“I didn't kill her,” she said.
“You didn't?” Damn, I knew I had sounded too happy as soon as the words left my mouth, and then she exploded.
“This is about her. Her, her, her! It's always about her!”
“No, it isn't, Natalie. It's about you.” Please, I was so sorry, I wanted to take it back.
“It's always about her.”
Then she started singing, “Oh, sad was the day for the little bisque doll, for they cut all her stitches away, and found the seat of the terrible ache; T'was a delicate task…”
“Natalie, listen to me…tell me where she is.” God, please tell me where Sara is.
But she only continued singing, as I continued pleading, “For none of the doctors had ever before performed on a dolly's inside. They tried to re-stuff her but didn't know how, and this was her wail as she died..."
That’s when I lost it and for the first time ever and reached over and placed my hands on a suspect and tried shaking the truth out of them.
“STOP IT! Just stop this! Tell me where Sara is!” I shouted at her, but it was no use. The love of my life was trapped under a car somewhere in the middle of the dessert and I was no closer to finding her. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 38 – The Good, The Bad, & The Dominatrix
SARA:
Wow, when I woke up yesterday morning I would have never guessed that I’d be investigating the attempted murder of a dominatrix named Lady Heather, ok, let me rephrase that because hello, this is Las Vegas. When I woke up yesterday morning I would have never guessed that I’d be investigating the attempted murder of one of Grissom’s friends, named Lady Heather, who is a dominatrix.
The infamous Lady Heather, oh how I remembered all the rumors that swirled around the lab in the past about Grissom and Lady Heather. He had come clean with me once after we had been dating, and explained that nothing had ever happened between them. He said that they were just friends and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. And I completely trust him because let’s face it, he can’t hide anything from me anyways.
So Catherine and I were sent out to investigate the crime scene after Heather was found, tied up and gagged and then taken to the hospital. I figured Grissom wouldn’t want to be at the crime scene with me, because I’d surely ask him lots of questions. Plus, I assumed he’d want to be at the hospital with her.
We were in this old western saloon type of family theme park where we assumed Heather was there to meet up with some guy. I was snapping photos of broken bottles on the counter, while Catherine examined the piano.
“This is a family theme park. I'm assuming they don't actually serve alcohol here. Must have brought their own,” I picked up one of the bottles, “Single malt, twelve years old.”
“S & M is a rich man's sport. Kind of like hockey…a lot of equipment.” She should know.
“How much do you think a night like this would cost?”
“Heather told me, five years ago, she was clearing 20 grand a week,” Holy crap! “And that was before her website."
"What is she like?” I know I’m pushing it, but I need some answers that Grissom won’t give me.
“Beautiful…” Great, “smart, intense…” Wonderful, “charming. The only woman I've ever seen rattle Grissom. I mean, he kind of liked that forensic anthropologist, Terry Miller. Remember her?” Oh god, why did I even start this conversation.
“Yeah.”
“But she wasn't enough of a challenge for him.” Ha, but I know I am. “Heather, on the other hand…uninhibited and can beat him at mental chess.” Um, so can I. “They had chemistry. And he is a scientist.” Um, so am I. “I have no proof and I know he'd never tell me, but I'm certain they spent the night together. Wonder which one wore the chaps.” Ok, this discussion is well past over.
“Lots of…coins and toothpicks. They don't sweep under here.” Whoa, I’m stuttering and now blushing.
“I mean, more power to him, really, to find somebody outside of work 'cause you start fishing from the company pier, and you’re asking for trouble.” God please stop. I’m sorry I asked. Please take it all back.
“I got a shot glass. Looks like there's some lipstick around the rim.”
“My fantasy does not include costumes, or pain…and certainly not sawdust…You?” If only I could tell you.
With that I said I’d be outside inspecting the perimeter of the building. Back at the lab, you wouldn’t even believe what Catherine made me do next. Now, I’m not gonna lie, there’s been plenty of rumors about me and Grissom passed around the lab also, especially back when I first asked him out and he turned me down, or even way back when I first joined the team, a lot of people assumed we had a steamy history. So even with Catherine knowing all that, she sent me to the hospital to do the collection of evidence and examination of Heather, a woman she assumes also has a steamy history with Grissom.
I walked thru that hospital so incredibly slow and approached her room door with immense caution. I told myself I could do it, but I just had so many questions, I wondered if she knew about me or about Grissom and me. Oh god here it goes.
I knocked on the door and walked in. Thank you god, Jim was also in there too.
“Hi. I'm with the Crime Lab. Sara Sidle.” I walked into the room and put my kit down on the table trying to control the shaking of my hands. “I'm here to collect your clothes and trace evidence from your body.”
“Can I say no?” she asked me.
“Why would you want to? Did the nurse forget to collect an SAE kit?”
“Not necessary.”
“You don't want help, that's okay by me. Just don't waste my time. I've got a lot of cases on my desk that need my attention. So when you come out of your haze, give me a call,” Jim explained to Heather because he didn’t really like her either. And then he left the room. Oh shit.
“I don't respond well to men who judge me based solely on my profession.” Heather said to me.
“I get that a lot, too,” I smiled. I was trying to bond a little with her to get her to cooperate. “Law enforcement.”
“May I move your hair?” Has Grissom asked her that before?
She nodded and I reached out and gently moved Heather’s hair aside to expose the bruises on her neck. She closed her eyes as I snapped a few photos.
She slowly opened her eyes and said, “Grissom.”
What?!?! I turned around to see Grissom with a very worried expression on his face. I didn’t know if he was more worried making sure Heather was ok, or that his girlfriend and dominatrix friend we together in the same room.
“I'll be done in a minute.” That’s all I said. We all stayed silent, I finished my work and left the room so Grissom could talk to Heather.
Back at the lab I was trying to stay busy to keep my mind off Grissom and Heather. I was examining two fibers under the microscope when Grissom walked in. I could sense he was coming before he even walked in and I stiffened up.
“Any results on Heather Kessler?” How can he stand there and say “Heather Kessler,” like it’s just another victim. You know if he had just said, “Heather” I probably would have known who he was talking about.
“So far, all the prints come back to her. Player piano, whiskey bottle, shot glass. There was some lipstick around the rim. I haven't had a chance to test it. You think it's her shade?” You would know.
“Heather's not supposed to drink because of her diabetes, which could explain the hypoglycemia and shock.” Hmm.
“Catherine found a pair of men's underwear in the toilet. Any evidence on them would have been washed away, but she also found seminal fluid in a tissue on the floor nearby.”
“She was sexually assaulted?”
“She refused an SAE kit, so we'll never know. There were no defensive wounds, no skin or rope fibers under her nails. At first blush, I figured he might have ambushed her, except that I noted three separate strangulation attempts on her neck…She had time to fight back.”
“This makes no sense. She's very strong. And tough as nails. Why didn't she fight?” Don’t get jealous, don’t get jealous.
Last night, Grissom didn’t come home. He told me he would be staying with Heather for the night to make sure she was ok. Oh man was I beyond pissed. I will also be the first to tell you that I can get extremely jealous and then my stubborn self gets a bad temper and nothing good ever comes of that.
Catherine and Brass went out the Heather’s house early this morning and guess who they bumped into…Grissom. Who conveniently verified her alibi for last night.
Back at work, I heard that Catherine tried scolding Grissom for his involved in this case. I mean he has yelled at her several times for letting her personal life spill into cases and then he goes and spends the night with our prime suspect. Let me rephrase, he goes and stays the night in a completely platonic manner, with our prime suspect.
After their little discussion, Grissom came to find me in the lab so I could fill him in.
“We may have a suspect.” I told him.
“I'm the only one Heather trusts.” Oh, now he’s gonna try to explain it to me, not before he spends all night with a dominatrix, but after, at work, he wants to try and explain it to his girlfriend of two years.
“I get it.” I will not argue with him here because knowing me I’ll slap him, oh and um knowing him now, he might like it.
“Sara…”
“Yeah?” Oh, I know he’s racking his brain to find something to say that will make me understand, but it seemed like he just couldn’t find it. “It's fine. Do what you need to do.” And with that I leave the room very, very angry.
After work, we drove home together in silence. I went inside, changed my clothes, got Bruno and said I was going for a walk. I must have walked around for two hours before I was calm enough to talk to Grissom. But when I walked into the house and saw him, all the anger came back. Above all, I was more angry about the unknown…what might have happened between them that I didn’t know about or if he still had feelings for her or if there was something he could find with her and not me. I was going to sit down and talk to him, but instead I turned and went for a hot shower.
And for the first time ever in our relationship, Grissom took the first step to initiate an inevitable confrontation. He jumped off the couch and caught me by the arm and said we needed to talk. I said nothing and pulled away from him. But he grabbed me again, he was pissing me off more and more, yet actually starting to turn me on with his dominance.
“Grissom I swear to god, you better get off of me before I kick your ass.”
“No, I’m not letting go of you until we talk.”
“Why all of a sudden have you grown a pair and you want to try to push me around and tell me what to do…hmm…I wonder who you could have learned such a dominant behavior from.” I threw that into his face as the tears started down mine and he let me go. I practically ran to the shower and cried into the hot water. I finally got out and laid down in bed.
Seconds later I felt the bed move and Grissom climbed in behind to me. He wrapped his arms around me and I didn’t fight it. If he wanted to talk then he could do it now.
“You know we said we’d never go to bed angry, so I can’t let you go to sleep…Sara, I love you more then I can ever show you and I want you to know the complete truth.” Great here it comes. “I never ever slept with Heather or Terry or anyone else since you came to Las Vegas.” Holy crap. “I kissed Heather once and then she said, “Do you want to sleep with me?” and then it was over. Anything I was feeling at that moment was completely erased when I heard your words come out of her mouth. I just couldn’t go thru with it when I was in love with you. I pulled away and we both realized our relationship would never go past that point. We grew into great friends. I have told her all about you and she knows how much I love you…how much I will always love you.”
When he finished, I rolled over to face him. I told him I forgave him, that I was sorry for being the way I am, I told him how much I loved him and that if anything he had just told me was a lie, then I’d kill him.
GRISSOM:
Wow, the last two days have been unbelievable exhausting. Not only was Heather almost killed, but she also got to meet Sara and nothing good became of that. Sara and I entered into possibly our biggest fight ever.
I had sent Catherine out with Sara to investigate the crime scene where Heather had been tied up and gagged, and not in the good way. She was on her way to the hospital and my girlfriend was investigating her attempted murder.
At first I figured sending Catherine out with Sara as opposed to me, would help me to avoid all those imminent questions about Lady Heather, but Catherine and her big mouth did more harm and I probably would have. Catherine said that she and Sara had been discussing me and Heather’s relationship at the crime scene and Catherine said that Heather was beautiful, smart, intense, and charming. The only woman she’s ever seen rattle me. She even brought up Terry Miller and to top it all off, she went and gave Sara her opinion that Heather and I did indeed spend the night together. Oh man, there’s gonna be some major damage control to do.
Then, just when I think it can’t get much worse, Catherine sent Sara to the hospital to examine Heather. As soon as I heard, I raced over there to try and stop whatever the two of them would create in a tiny little hospital room.
Heather knew all about Sara, she could tell after we had started dating there was something different about me. She said I looked happy and content and she knew it was because of a woman, so I told her all about Sara. She also wanted to meet Sara, but I drew the line there because I knew it was not a good idea. How would that lunch go? Heather, this is my girlfriend, who I am secretly dating, and Sara, this is my friend Lady Heather, a dominatrix who’s been connected to several of our cases now.
I walked in to the hospital room in a panic. I should have been more worried about the wellbeing of Heather, but truthfully, I was more worried about the wellbeing of myself after Sara and Heather met.
“Grissom.” Heather said softly as I walked into the room, causing Sara to turn around and give me a look that I couldn’t read, but it still scared me.
“I'll be done in a minute.” Sara said so calmly, so serial murderery. She finished up and left the room without another word and I took a seat next to Heather’s bed.
“Are you here in a professional capacity?” she asked me.
“Does it make a difference?”
“Maybe not to you. I feel exposed. The last time you saw me…”
“You had just lost your daughter.”
“That's not all I lost that night.”
“If a client did this, and left you to die, why are you protecting him?”
“I'm not.”
“Tell me the truth.” Then she started having trouble breathing. “Did they check your glucose level when you came in?” I tried asking her before she passed out. I called for a nurse and told her that Heather was diabetic and that she was probably going into shock. The doctors came in and got her back awake, but she still really had me worried.
Heather needed to rest, so I headed back to the lab and unfortunately I had to find Sara for some results. I found her in the lab looking into a microscope.
“Any results on Heather Kessler?” I asked her.
“So far, all the prints come back to her. Player piano, whiskey bottle, shot glass. There was some lipstick around the rim. I haven't had a chance to test it. You think it's her shade?” Oh no.
“Heather's not supposed to drink because of her diabetes, which could explain the hypoglycemia and shock.”
“Catherine found a pair of men's underwear in the toilet. Any evidence on them would have been washed away, but she also found seminal fluid in a tissue on the floor nearby.”
“She was sexually assaulted?”
“She refused an SAE kit, so we'll never know. There were no defensive wounds, no skin or rope fibers under her nails. At first blush, I figured he might have ambushed her, except that I noted three separate strangulation attempts on her neck…She had time to fight back.”
“This makes no sense. She's very strong. And tough as nails. Why didn't she fight?”
I left Sara without another word. I was worried about Heather and maybe I wasn’t thinking from the point of view of a jealous current girlfriend, but when am I ever thinking how I should be when it comes to Sara and my relationship?
I called Sara and told her I’d be staying over at Heather’s for the night to make sure she was ok. I knew Sara wouldn’t be happy and I knew there’d be hell to pay when I saw her the next morning at work, but if something were to happen to Heather when I could have been there to help her, I’d never forgive myself.
Heather and I ate a nice dinner and we caught up on each other’s lives. I told her more about Sara and how we had just made it to our two year anniversary. She told me all about her granddaughter, Alison, who she never gets to see since her daughter died. She went to sleep early, still exhausted from the hospital, and I fell asleep on the couch.
In the morning, we were eating breakfast when there was a knock at the door. Heather got up to answer it while I more so hid in the kitchen. I heard Catherine and Jim’s voices asking her where she had been last night, which must only mean they now believe she’s a suspect.
Heather said, “I was here.”
“Can anyone verify that? Preferably someone not on the payroll.” Jim asked her.
I stepped into the room, trying to remain calm, while holding my coffee cup, and said, “She was here…with me.”
I left Heather’s with Jim and headed to work. Alone in my office with Catherine, she decided to start in on me.
“You were there all night. Want to explain why? Look, I know that you don't go home and cuddle your insects every single night, but why would you go there knowing that we're in the middle of an investigation? And now she's a prime suspect with you as her alibi.”
“It was a social call, that's all.”
“So, when your personal life gets tangled up in a case, that's off limits?”
“Yes.”
“Isn't that a little hypocritical?”
“Apparently so.”
“You know I'd slap you, but I think you'd enjoy it too much.”
“Look, I went to Heather's on a hunch. There's something not right with her.”
“Your timing sucked.”
“What's this? So now you're building your own?” She was referring to my miniature.
“Yeah. Keeps my hands busy.” Especially when Sara’s not home. Speaking of Sara, I better go find her. So I walked over into the lab so she could fill me in on the case and so that I can possibly gauge just how mad she really was.
“We may have a suspect.” Oh, she’s really mad.
“I'm the only one Heather trusts.”
“I get it.” Oh, she’s really, really mad.
“Sara…”
“Yeah?” I have nothing to say right now that will make her understand all this. I can’t explain it to her now at work, so as usual, I say nothing. “Do what you need to do,” she said to me and then left the room. Oh, she’s off the charts mad.
Once we have the case complete, Sara is still writing up some reports so I sneak away to Heather’s. I had convinced Jerome Kessler, grandfather of Alison, and Heather's ex-husband, to let Heather see her. So I had picked them up and drove them over to Heather’s house.
“Leave me alone. I didn't ask you to save me.” She said to me after answering to door. Man I can’t win with anyone today.
“I know. What am I supposed to do? I'm your friend. Besides, there's someone I want you to meet.” I grab her hand and pull her outside to meet Jerome walking toward her with Alison. She was beyond excited, I could tell from the tears in her eyes. So I left her to enjoy the reunion and I headed back to the lab to pick up Sara and try to fix things.
We drove home in silence, but the air in the car was ready to explode from the angry tension between us. Once inside our house, I thought she’s just blow up and let everything out and we’d fight and get it all over with, but instead she went into the bedroom, changed her clothes, got Bruno and said she was going for a walk. I figured she needed to cool off, so that would give me a little more time to figure out what to say to her. She was gone for two hours and when she walked in, she took a deep breath like she was ready to talk, but then turned around to walk away.
I jumped off the couch to grab her by the arm, “Come on Sara talk to me, yell at me, scream at me, but I just can’t stand this silence anymore.” But again she said nothing and jerked her arm away from me. I grabbed her again, this time harder, I didn’t know where these feelings were coming from, but if we weren’t about to explode into a fight, I’d just push her up against that wall and--
“Grissom I swear to god, you better get off of me before I kick your ass.”
“No, I’m not letting go of you until we talk.”
“Why all of a sudden have you grown a pair and you want to try to push me around and tell me what to do…hmm…I wonder who you could have learned such a dominant behavior from.” She spit that into my face as I noticed the tears start down her face and I had to let her go. I had never made Sara cry and been the reason why she was so mad that she cried in front of me. This was very bad.
She went in and took a shower while I waited until she came out and laid down in bed. I immediately climbed in behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She may kill me, but I will die if I have to see her cry like that again. She didn’t move, so I began my long speech I had been preparing.
“You know we said we’d never go to bed angry, so I can’t let you go to sleep…Sara, I love you more then I can ever show you and I want you to know the complete truth. I never ever slept with Heather or Terry or anyone else since you came to Las Vegas. I kissed Heather once and then she said, “Do you want to sleep with me?” and then it was over. Anything I was feeling at that moment was completely erased when I heard your words come out of her mouth. I just couldn’t go thru with it when I was in love with you. I pulled away and we both realized our relationship would never go past that point. We grew into great friends. I have told her all about you and she knows how much I love you…how much I will always love you.”
I finished and took a deep breath, waiting for her reaction. She rolled over to face me and smiled. Thank the god above. She forgave me, told me she was sorry for how she acted when I know she was just being Sara. Then she told me how much she loved me and if anything I had just said to her was a lie, then she’d kill me. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 37 – Leapin’ Lizards
SARA:
Well this week was our two year anniversary of our first date, first kiss, first time we had sex, ok, it’s not like I’m a whore or anything, I mean we had know each other for seven years before our first night together. Anyways, as suggested, Grissom took me out in a limo, out to dinner and then to the zoo, yes, the zoo. A midnight stroll thru the zoo and then more sex in the limo, though it was parked in our driveway, so we had a little more privacy then in our lab’s garage.
We finally had to get inside to walk Bruno and then I was relaxing in bed while Grissom and Bruno watched Godzilla next to me. Why Godzilla? Because we had yet another weird case at work. We were investigating a missing woman named Chyna, when we stumbled across a group of “Alien Survivors” who believed that we humans had been invaded by extraterrestrial reptilian creatures. Yeah. These people really were crazy, and to add to their insanity, they were also very violent. I’m talking chopping people heads off violent.
At our crime scene I walked in the house to find Grissom flipping thru books and magazines in a room covered with photos and drawing of aliens and UFOs.
“Want me to take the living room? Looks like Armageddon came on a Thursday.” I asked him.
“Do you believe that intelligent life exists on other planets?” He knows I don’t, and I know he doesn’t, so where is going with this?
“I'm not sure there's intelligent life on this planet…I was just I the barn.” Where Grissom had found Chyna’s taxidermy head on a plaque on the wall.
I finished processing the living room, as Grissom began watching a film in our UFO/alien obsessed house. I walked in to see what Grissom was up to because I was ready call it a day and go celebrate our anniversary. A Sidney Buckman, king of an UFO club, was on the screen running his mouth.
“History is replete with stories of the heroic destruction of serpents: Perseus and Medusa, St. George and the Dragon, St. Patrick and the Snakes of Ireland. But these are not merely legends…”
“What is this?” I asked him.
“I think their UFO club is based on the teachings of this guy.”
“…and the natural form of these invaders is not human. They are described in ancient accounts as serpents and dragons. And man's weapon against them is the sword. Cut off the tail, the serpent lives. Cut off its head, and it dies.”
“So Connors cut off her head because he thought she was a serpent from outer space?” I couldn’t even believe it as the words came out of my mouth.
Finally after the short film was over and we had interviewed a few of the alien weirdoes, Grissom was tired of this absurd case and came to the conclusion nothing worthwhile was going to come of this case, so we didn’t need to stay. We left work early and let the rest of the team wrap up the case, it was our anniversary after all.
So like I said before, our anniversary was wonderful and it all just reminded me of why I still love Grissom so very much.
So we were in bed with Bruno, watching Godzilla. Godzilla was stomping thru the city, people were running around screaming as the monster was smashing into more buildings.
“I always feel sorry for the monster.” I said.
“Then you better turn it off before they use the Oxygen Destroyer on him.” He was really enjoying this movie. A few minutes later he got up and walked into his study, he had only really wanted to watch his favorite part. Bruno followed him and I grabbed for the remote to find something else to watch. I reached over to put my yogurt down on the bedside table and noticed an envelope sticking out between the pages of a book.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I am a nosey person, I mean I am a CSI, so I pulled the envelope out and my name was written on it, so naturally it’s ok for me to open it up and read it.
It was a letter from Grissom to me, I assume when he left to teach that seminar for a few weeks. It read…
I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me. I said I'll miss you, and I do.
As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in Sonnet 47,
"Thyself away art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
and I am still with them…
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight,
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."
Reading that letter was all I needed, not a fancy dinner or limo ride, but reading those words on that paper, which I knew was incredibly hard for Grissom to express, meant more to me then anything he could have given me.
I got out of bed and walked into his study where he was working on that damn miniature again. I walked up to him, pushed his arms away from the desk and sat down onto his lap. I placed my hands on both sides of his face, told him how much I loved him and kissed him long and hard.
“Well, I guess this can wait,” he whispered, as he picked me up and carried me back to bed.
GRISSOM:
So this week was Sara and my two year anniversary. I really can’t believe it has already been two years and since we’ve been keeping all this a big secret I can’t even tell anyone else how excited I am to still be with Sara after two whole years. So just as I had planned, I took Sara out for a limo ride thru the city and out to dinner and then for a late night stroll thru the zoo. Then we took the limo home and had some more fun in the limo, but this time it was parked in our driveway rather then our lab’s garage.
We finally had to get inside to take Bruno out for his walk and then we settled down on our bed and flipping thru channels, I found Godzilla, how ironic after our last case. We were investigating a missing woman named Chyna, but instead we found a group of people claiming to be “Alien Survivors,” and they believed that humans were being invaded by extraterrestrial reptilian creatures.
We did find Chyna’s taxidermy head on a plaque at the Connors residence, so that’s where I was, looking farther into all this alien conspiracy stuff.
I was flipping thru a book titled, “To Walk Among Us,” which included drawings of aliens, UFOs and other unidentified creatures. The next book I picked up was called, “Serpents of the Universe: A Comprehensive Account of the Reptilian Conspiracy.” I wasn’t sure how much of this case I was going to be able to handle. The deeper and deeper into this investigation I got, the more and more I just wanted to hand off the case, take Sara home and get to celebrating our anniversary.
Looking around the room, there were various items on the table, including UFO magazines, a photo, tin foil, and tape. I picked up a photo of two men and a woman and then a flyer which read, “April 15, 2006 Friendship Auditorium McCade, Nevada, Special Presentation based on the work of Dr. Sidney Buckman, We are not alone. Come hear the truth.”
That’s when Sara walked in and that was just what I needed to cheer me up a little.
“Want me to take the living room?” No, I want you to take me home.
“Do you believe that intelligent life exists on other planets?”
“I'm not sure there's intelligent life on this planet.” Ah, she had just come from the barn where I had found the taxidermy head.
She left to examine the living room and I flipped on a film presented by Dr. Sidney Buckman, who turned out to be some sort of chairman of an UFO club.
“History is replete with stories of the heroic destruction of serpents: Perseus and Medusa, St. George and the Dragon, St. Patrick and the Snakes of Ireland. But these are not merely legends…”
Sara finished processing the living room and came back in to join me. “What is this?” She asked me after hearing what Dr. Buckman was saying on the screen.
“I think their UFO club is based on the teachings of this guy.” I said.
“…and the natural form of these invaders is not human. They are described in ancient accounts as serpents and dragons. And man's weapon against them is the sword. Cut off the tail, the serpent lives. Cut off its head, and it dies.”
“So Connors cut off her head because he thought she was a serpent from outer space?” It sounded strange, but not for Las Vegas.
Finally, after the third crazy alien enthusiast we interviewed, I decided I was finished. So I handed off the rest of the case to Catherine to wrap up and took Sara home. We had a fantastic night and ended up back at home laying in bed with Bruno, my favorite thing to do these days. So I decided on watching Godzilla just for a little while because I wanted to see my favorite part and describe it all in detail to Sara as we watched it. Then I knew she was getting bored and I wanted to go work on my miniature, so I got up and Bruno followed me to my study.
About five minutes later, I don’t know what became of Sara, but she came strolling into my study, planted herself onto my lap and started kissing me, starting off so tenderly, her desire began to grow and I knew where she was going. So I carried her back to bed to give her one last anniversary present. | |
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| Author’s note: Thank you so much to all my devoted readers. I really did try my best to get all of last season written before this season’s premiere, but my job got in the way and it’s unfortunate that I have to actually go out and make a living instead of sit at home all day and write fanfics. Oh, but a girl can dream. Anyways, then I was hit with major writer’s block after that fabulous premiere. Thank god Sara survived and my fanfic can continue (for a few more episodes at least…if you’ve read spoilers). So I’m heading into the final 4 episodes of last season and I’m really trying to make them good for everyone. Thanks for sticking in there with me and please enjoy.
Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 36 – Ending Happy
SARA:
So tonight our crime scene was out at a place called the Sugar Cane Ranch. Grissom paired me with him and I was a little scared approaching the location. Sheriff Ned Bastille was escorting us thru the dark, into the backyard and to a swimming pool where the dead body was.
“Yeah. One of the gals fished him out of the pool, and the owner called me. No one's touched the body since,” the sheriff told us.
“Where's your coroner?” Grissom asked, just before I did.
“Oh, couldn't get him on the horn. Probably out in some barn, up to his elbows in a cow's vagina.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, had I missed something?
“Oh. Yeah. Coroner's a part-time gig here in Brime County. He's a veterinarian. That's his money gig.”
“Control, this is CSI Sidle. We're going to need a coroner for that 419 out at the Sugar Cane Ranch,” I called for Doc Robbins.
I looked up as a crowd of women in lingerie gathered outside near the pool. The sheriff looked very happy and a bit nervous.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said to the whores, I mean women.
The women moved aside so the sheriff, Grissom and I could walk through.
“This is a strange crowd for a cathouse,” Grissom said. Ranch, cathouse, whore house…what’s the difference here?
“Hey, Sheriff!” some elderly man in his robe, yelled out to the sheriff, later identified as Milton. “Did you hear about my wife? Somebody shot my wife. Yeah, I'm telling ya, they shot my wife.”
“Yeah. Okay. All right. Settle down, Milton. Settle down. Okay,” I could tell the sheriff wasn’t about to take this man seriously, and then he continued right past him.
“His wife died about ten years ago of a stroke,” the sheriff explained to us.
“What is with all the old-timers out here tonight?” I asked
“Oh, they live here. Yeah, all over these hills. Cheap rents, abundant sunshine. Life is good here in Brime County,” finally, on to the body please, “Guy's name is Lorenzo Morales.”
“Happy Morales. I saw him fight LeRoi Steele at the Sands a couple of years ago. Took a vicious beating. Never touched the mat once.” Must have been before me.
“Well, he's definitely down for the count,” I know, that was bad, something Grissom would say.
“Listen. I want to tell you something. George and Doris Babinkian own this place. Run a real tight ship. Never had a problem in all the years they've been here,” the sheriff was sounding more and more nervous. Then one of the whores walked up the steps toward him, carrying a gun belt, oh no he didn’t. “Just good people. Pay their taxes, provide employment, pillars of the community. You know, last month actually, they had a…” Then the girl tapped on the sheriff shoulder and said, “Ned, you left this in my room again.”
The sheriff was about to explain to us the situation and I’m sure make up some good excuse, but Grissom just smiled and turned around to catch me already laughing.
“Look at this,” Grissom told me, finally getting our brains back onto the case.
“Gunshot wound?”
“Maybe.”
“He's got a contusion over his right eye. Could be associated with the incident.”
“Well, he was a boxer.”
While Grissom was snapping photos of the scene, I began looking around and found a broken lawn chair near the edge of the pool and then I stuck my hand in to the pool.
“Feels like bathwater. It's got to be 90 degrees. There's no way we're going to get an accurate TOD,” I told Grissom
“Places like this always keep their pools warm. Encourages the girls to swim topless. It's good for business…” How would he know that? “So they tell me,” he quickly threw in there.
Doc Robbins came and took the body, Brass questioned the owners and various hookers, then Grissom questioned Doris, the owner’s wife, a little more. I could tell he was getting tired of all these airheads, so we left the main house and headed to Happy’s lodge.
“Twenty-five people here last night, and nobody sees anything,” Grissom said.
Here comes two whores towards us and so help me good if they try hitting on Grissom, I’ll kill them. And he’s even got that stupid pimp hat on.
“Nice hat, honey.” Oh great, now he’ll never take it off.
“So you've been to a place like this before?” I was very curious.
“I worked a murder-suicide at the Naughty Kitty once.”
“No, no, come on. You know what I mean.”
“As a customer? No.”
“You never paid for sex?” I mean it is Las Vegas.
“I have not. I find the whole idea very…bleak.”
“Really? How come?”
“Sex should provide the opportunity for human connection, but paid sex does the opposite of that. To me, sex without love is pointless. It makes you sad.”
“Well, I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad.”
“No. You make me happy.” Awww.
That man can be so sweet sometimes, and I’ll definitely thank him later. So we opened the door to Happy’s room and looked around. There were various drugs and boxing memories everywhere.
“Methaqualone…benziazepine; antidepressants,” Grissom read off the pill bottles.
And I continued, “Anabolic steroids, beta blockers, high-blood-pressure meds, Prevalis.”
“There's no prescription labels. It's all written in Spanish. Looks like a lot of this stuff came from south of the border.”
“Blood drops on the floor. Smears on the furniture and the walls.”
“This might be where they ran the opening bell.”
So we got the autopsy results from Catherine and Warrick and I’d like to quote Doc Robbin’s here: “Genitals are distended and patchy and covered with large red welts. Testicles are swollen, roughly three times the average size. Scrotum is filled with fluid. It's consistent with cardio edema or an STD. Maybe an infection of some kind.” To which Catherine said, “Either that or this guy's got the world's ugliest Johnson.”
I’m so glad I missed that autopsy. So, along with old boxing injuries, apparently Happy was also smashed in the head with a crowbar, had holes in his throat and needle marks on his thighs, arms and buttocks. We were still waiting on tox so Nick and I were back at the ranch and now at Milton’s trailer, having followed a blood trail that ended there. We were no longer looking for a bullet to match the wounds on Happy and discovered it was an arrow.
The arrow landed right on a photo of Milton’s wife, stuck right in her forehead. “I told you, somebody shot my wife,” Milton confirmed.
Nick examined the arrow and said, “There is what appears to be blood on the shaft.”
“I told 'em. I told 'em, but would they listen? No, no, just an old man running off at the mouth.”
“Did you see this happen?” I asked Milton.
“No. Woke up this morning and found it like that.
I shot an arrow into the air,
and it fell to Earth I know not where.
Oh, so swiftly it flew, the sight
could not follow it in its flight.
Long, long…
That's Longfellow. What do you kids know 'bout poetry?”
“A long time afterward, in an oak…” I continued his poem, that Grissom once read to me,
“…found the arrow, still unbroke
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
Keep the faith, Milton.”
Good things come to those who wait, trust me, I had to wait seven years for Grissom.
Anyways, so we found out that Connor, the bartender, shot Happy thru his neck with a crossbow, which helped him breathe and live a little longer after going into anaphylactic shock from an allergy to shellfish. Apparently Binky, Doris’s husband, fed her shrimp, which remained on her lips when she later gave Happy a blowjob, where the “point of entry of the anaphylaxis…was through the urethra,” Grissom told me, “Binky used Doris to induce Happy's allergic reaction to shrimp as a sort of test of her fidelity.”
He had also been injected with snake venom in his calf by the same hooker who hit him in the head with the crowbar. Then he went to the pool side, sat in a broken chair and fell into the pool where he ultimately died. In conclusion, Doc Robbins had to name Happy’s C.O.D. as “unknown/cardiac arrest.” Only in Las Vegas.
GRISSOM:
Tonight our crime scene was at the Sugar Cane Ranch, I place I had heard of, so I made sure Sara came with me, not only to keep me in line, but maybe I’d flirt with a few ladies and make her a little jealous. Ned Bastille was the sheriff guiding us thru the dark and to our crime scene by a swimming pool where we found our dead body, Lorenzo “Happy” Morales. Warrick and Catherine had taken me out to see him fight LeRoi Steele at the Sands a couple of years ago. He had taken a vicious beating, but never once touched the mat…and now he was laying dead at my feet.
“Listen. I want to tell you something. George and Doris Babinkian own this place. Run a real tight ship. Never had a problem in all the years they've been here,” the sheriff was still talking and sounding a bit nervous about something, when one of the hookers walked up to him and handed him his gun belt that he’d left in her room. Busted. I saw a ring on his finger, how could he so easily just cheat on his wife like that.
So the sheriff continued to explain to us the situation and I could tell he was headed for some stupid excuse for his actions, but I didn’t want to hear it and just smiled, then I turned around to catch Sara already laughing.
“Look at this,” I said, let’s please get back to the crime scene in front of us.
“Gunshot wound?”
“Maybe.”
“He's got a contusion over his right eye. Could be associated with the incident.”
“Well, he was a boxer.”
While I began snapping photos of the scene, Sara wandered off behind me.
“Feels like bathwater. It's got to be 90 degrees. There's no way we're going to get an accurate TOD,” she said, commenting on the pool water.
“Places like this always keep their pools warm. Encourages the girls to swim topless. It's good for business…” Whoops. “So they tell me.” Why don’t I ever think before opening my mouth?
Doc Robbins came and took the body, Brass questioned the owners and various hookers, then I questioned Doris, the owner’s wife, a little more. But when the idiots began causing a growing headache in my skull I had to find Sara and get out of there, so we headed over to Happy’s lodge.
“Twenty-five people here last night, and nobody sees anything,” I said to Sara as two hookers came walking towards us. Oh yeah, here we go, please say something to me, I silently begged.
“Nice hat, honey.” Perfect, make Sara jealous and compliment me on the hat that she hates.
“So you've been to a place like this before?” Uh oh, that’s not where I wanted this conversation to go. I mean we talked only once about Lady Heather and her dominion and then I never wanted to speak of it again. Oh, but there was that murder-homicide at the Naughty Kitty.
“I worked a murder-suicide at the Naughty Kitty once.”
“No, no, come on. You know what I mean.”
“As a customer? No.”
“You never paid for sex?” Sara should know me better then that by now.
“I have not. I find the whole idea very…bleak.”
“Really? How come?”
“Sex should provide the opportunity for human connection, but paid sex does the opposite of that. To me, sex without love is pointless. It makes you sad.”
“Well, I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad.”
“No. You make me happy.” Very, very happy.
Ok, enough with the mushy, mushy at a crime scene. We entered Happy’s place and found a plethora of drugs and boxing memorabilia.
“Methaqualone…benziazepine; antidepressants,” I read off just some of the pill bottles.
And Sara continued, “Anabolic steroids, beta blockers, high-blood-pressure meds, Prevalis.”
“There's no prescription labels. It's all written in Spanish. Looks like a lot of this stuff came from south of the border.”
“Blood drops on the floor. Smears on the furniture and the walls.”
“This might be where they ran the opening bell.”
So we got autopsy results from Catherine and Warrick and I’m glad I missed the autopsy because apparently Happy wasn’t so happy down in the genital regions, along with old boxing injuries, a crowbar to the head, holes in his throat and needle marks on his thighs, arms and buttocks. So I sent Sara and Nick back to the ranch to find more evidence, since we couldn’t pinpoint an exact cause of death.
Later I gathered Catherine and Nick into the layout room to review everything we had.
“Right now the DA's not sure who he's going to charge. What he needs from us is the most accurate timeline we can provide,” I told them.
“Well, according to Tox, the hemolytic component of the venom had time to break down tissue, which means that it had to have been in his system at least a few hours,” Catherine said.
“So the fake snake bite is around 1:00…” I began our timeline. “Happy's down…but not out.”
“Well, that gets Dreama,” one of the hookers, “and Connor,” the bartender, “for attempted murder with conspiracy to commit.”
“And earlier that night, Binky fed Doris some jumbo tiger shrimp…knowing that she'd eventually find Happy for round two.”
“Doris administers some very special first aid…and Happy's little soldier swells to battalion size.”
“Binky knew about that shellfish allergy…that's intent, right?” Nick asked.
“In any event, Binky and Doris lawyered up. They're sticking together.”
“How romantic. So, now Happy is not so happy, because he'd heading into anaphylactic shock.”
“According to Narco, Happy had epinephrine in his trailer, which is probably what he was trying to get to in round two.”
“That's assault with a deadly weapon.”
“But not necessarily murder.”
“So the field tracheotomy buys un-Happy enough time to get the epi.”
“At this point, you'd think he would've just called it a night. Watched a little TV, hit the sack, but no.” He goes to confront Dreama.
“Which brings us to round four.” Happy staggered over to the pool. He sat down in the broken lawn chair and fell into the pool. “The TKO.”
“You do know what a good defense attorney is going to say to all this, don't you?”
“What?”
“The lawn chair did it.”
So after all that, Doc Robbins’ final report produced the C.O.D. to be “unknown/cardiac arrest.” My brain hurt and I was ready to find Sara and go home. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 35 – Lab Rats
SARA:
Grissom and I barely got to see each other today. He sent me out to the Omdi-Tech offices on Boulder Highway to investigate a scene for the CDC, while he spent the night in autopsy with a floater pulled from Lake Mead.
So while the CSIs are away, the lab techs shall play, or so Grissom informed me. It turned out to be Hodges’ lucky day when he brought together Mandy, Henry, Archie and Wendy, to solve the connection between all of the miniature crime scenes.
I also think Wendy might have a bit of a geek crush on Hodges. She was giving him some lovingly glances across the lab and trust me, I know geek eye sex when I see it. And I walked right in on her watching Hodges in the break room from the DNA lab.
“Hey,” I greeted her, breaking Wendy from her stare.
“Hey.”
“Here you go. I checked under the keys. Crusty white stains, pale blue under ALS.”
“Semen, huh? What made you check under the keys?”
“A butt print on the credenza.”
“Yeah, okay, that's gross.” I agree.
“CDC contacted us, because the whole office has a herpes simplex 1 outbreak, and nobody could figure out why. I guess you never really know what's going on in your office.” I should know.
I turned to leave, but Wendy stopped me, “Hey, Sara? Is it true that the ‘miniature’ cases have been keeping Grissom up at night?” What!
“How would I know?” I asked her, trying not to blush.
“I just thought that maybe you guys all talk about this it, and…Hodges told me that Grissom confided in him and…You know what? Never mind. Just forget I even asked.”
“Well, listen, I-I don't know what Hodges has been telling you,” and god I hope he hasn’t suspected something was going on between Grissom and I, “but…do you really think that Grissom would confide in him? About anything?”
“No. Of course not.” And with that, I practically ran out of that room before she had me talking any more about Grissom.
Speaking of Grissom, I have to watch my back a little more now because of the small prank I played on him. Reminding me that revenge is a bitch, he told me he screamed like a little girl because of the fake rat I had snuck into his desk. David had told me, along with much of the lab, about Grissom and Doc Robbins chasing a rat around down in the morgue earlier that evening and I just knew I had to do something to him. Nothing scares Grissom though, nothing expect a fake rat, huh?
So I didn’t get to hear about the huge breakthrough in the Miniature Crime Scene Killer case until I later found Grissom in his office, after our cases were all solved and I was ready to head home, he told me all about it on the way home and continued most of the night. Bleach, yeah, bleach was the connection, which means anyone who uses bleach could be our next victim.
I curled up a little closer to Grissom that night just thinking about how involved he was in the case and how the Miniature Crime Scene Killer knows who he is and I’m sure he knows all about him by now. I just pray to god we can catch him before he tries to hurt someone we’re close to or even Grissom himself.
GRISSOM:
Sara and I barely got to see each other today, but it was all worth it because while all of us were out at our crime scenes, the lab techs pulled together and combined forces in order to figure out the connection between all of our miniature crime scenes…bleach.
I’m a little disappointed that I hadn’t figured it out, but I’m very happy we can finally move forward a little on that case. Sara had warned me that I had left the miniatures unlocked, but I never thought Hodges would find his way in there and reinvestigate all of them.
Today, while working my case of a floater found in Lake Mead, Doc Robbins and I also spent a good portion of the night chasing down a rat that was hiding out in our dead body and got lose. But the good Doc turned out to be deathly after of rats and I even hear him squeal like a girl at least once while it was scurrying around on the floor. We finally caught the rat and our whole adventure quickly made its way around the lab and when Sara heard about it, she hid a fake rat in my desk, thus causing me to also scream like a little girl.
Anyways, after completing my case and eliminating our rat problem, I made my way back to my office to find Hodges. He seemed to be deep in thought examining the Penny Garden miniature.
“This better be good, Dave,” I said sternly to him. If he had been going thru my office all day I was sure he would have found some evidence of Sara and I was about to be livid with him.
“Bleach,” was all he said.
“What?”
“I found a common element in all four miniatures…bleach. There's a bottle of it in the trash at Izzy's, there's a barrel of it at the chicken plant, there's, uh, bleach in the flower water at Barbara's condo, and now…” he hands me a crumpled miniature bleach coupon and the magnifying glass he had been using, “…a bleach coupon in Penny's.”
I was blown away that I missed this connection, speechless actually, so Hodges continued, “This-this may sound crazy, but if the killer is a housekeeper or a janitor, they would certainly know the ins and outs of each location, uh, what goes in what drawer, what book on what bookshelf. Hours of operation, habits, schedules. I've thought a lot about the killer's pathology, and there doesn't seem to be any regular interval between murders, which makes me think that they're triggered by something. Maybe…maybe the killer is triggered by bleach.”
“The bellows,” I said.
“I'm sorry?” That’s right, this is Hodges in front of me, not Sara. He can’t read my mind.
“James Tilly Matthews. Early 19th century London. Matthews was in Bedlam Hospital awaiting trial. Doctors were trying to determine his sanity. Several interviewed him. Half thought he was sane, half insane. Turns out he was perfectly normal…except when someone mentioned politics. At that point, he'd go into a rage about the little men who lived underground and used a bellows to push thoughts into his mind, as well as the minds of Parliament and the Queen. A specific object or word that triggers the urge to kill. That's a form of delusional psychosis. Rare, but does exist.”
“If the killer is one of Ernie Dell's foster kids, maybe bleach played a role in some sort of childhood abuse. He's getting back at the world for what they did to him.”
“Well, if having bleach in your home is the common element among victims…then anyone can be next.” Even me.
“Did the victims use a common cleaning service?”
“Not that we know of. However, it's not unusual for people with these pathologies to become vocal toward the institutions that they feel propagate the trigger.”
“Maybe we could call bleach-manufacturing companies and see if they've received any hate mail.”
“Cross-reference correspondence with Vegas postmarks. Might be able to narrow down neighborhoods.” Wow, I can’t believe I said that and actually meant it. “Good job, Hodges.”
Did Hodges really just blush because of a simple compliment?
“Really,” I repeat, but nice time is over and I needed my office, “Now…do you mind?”
“Absolutely…” he got up and headed for the door, but stopped, “I…I'm sorry if I crossed the line. It won't happen again.”
His face was plastered with a huge smile and I’m sure he practically ran around the lab to brag about his accomplishments.
“Well, if having bleach in your home is the common element among victims…then anyone can be next.” That one statement that came out of Hodges’ mouth really scared me. The Miniature Crime Scene Killer knows who I am, knows all about me and my work, so I could actually be the next target or god forbid…someone I’m very close to…maybe even Sa – never mind, I’m stopping that horrible thought. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 34 – Big Shots
SARA:
So Greg, Catherine, Grissom and I were on a case today of a dead body found in a limo that crashed on the strip, but Greg was forced to leave the investigation when we found a solid connection to Aaron James, brother of the kid he hit with his truck while saving a man’s life. I was so proud of Greg again when he stood up to Ms. James today when she tried blaming him for the trouble she’s been having with her sons.
Anyways, most of the case was boring and involved some shady guys who did nothing but lie to us, typical case, but wait there was more. Grissom told me that Sofia did get wine thrown all over herself today though. Is it bad that I laughed a little when he told me that? A little birdie also told me that she was flirting quite a bit with the under sheriff, who I heard may be promoting her. She must be sleeping with him or something…did I really just say that? Said the woman who has been sleeping with her supervisor, ok new topic.
So Grissom and I were walking into the garage where the limo was parked to look over the evidence again.
“Stretch limos are custom-made. You take a Lincoln Continental, cut it apart, stretch it with whatever parts you have available: Ford, Chrysler, General Motors, doesn't matter,” Grissom explained.
I opened the back door while Grissom opened the other. We checked the seat belt adjuster and compared it to the one in our evidence bag.
“Looks like the same belt adjuster.”
“This one's missing,” I said as I showed him what I was talking about. Then I also pointed out the blood on the upper part of the seat belt. “This blood has to be from the shooting.” I pulled the seat belt out even farther and found even more blood. “This is from something else. There shouldn't be blood on this part of the seat belt. Think the under sheriff will let us talk to Aaron now?”
“If the DNA matches Simone Molinez's, anyone that was in this limo is up for murder. The, uh, under sheriff won't have a choice.”
Then Grissom goes to exit the limo, but I grabbed his thigh, “Wait,” I said, “You remember this morning when you asked me what I wanted for our upcoming anniversary?”
“Yeah,” I could tell he was a little scared at what I was about to say because we were now alone in a limo, in the lab’s garage, sitting on top of evidence.
“I want you to take me out in a limo. I don’t care where we go, but you know…I’ve never actually ridden in a limo before…Or…” Was I really about to say this? “…had sex in a limo.”
And that was when my jaw hit the floor, Grissom closed the car door next to him and reached past me to close the one on my side, locked all the doors and leaned in towards my face. “Let’s cross one of those things off your list right now,” he said as he hand wandered up my leg and rested on my thigh.
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and I let Grissom have his way with me right there in that limo. Even after being together for almost two whole years, the man still finds ways to surprise me.
It was the second time we had sex at work, but the first time we had sex on top of evidence. You would think that two adults would have a little more self control then we do. I mean we have a lot of sex and we still can’t hold back while at work?
GRISSOM:
So Sara and my anniversary is coming up soon and I’ve been trying to figure out something new and surprising to do for Sara, but when I asked her this morning what she wanted she didn’t know, she was absolutely no help, so I told her to think about it and get back to me.
I’ve been racking my brain to come up with something and it’s not like I could ask anyone at work for advice because that would completely reveal our big secret. What am I gonna do?
Anyways, I’d rather not even bore you with the boring details of our case today, but it involved a limo and as Sara and I were walking into the lab’s garage to reevaluate the evidence in that limo, I had a brilliant idea. I haven’t taken Sara out in a limo yet, that’s what I could do for her. Back to work mode…
“Stretch limos are custom-made. You take a Lincoln Continental, cut it apart, stretch it with whatever parts you have available: Ford, Chrysler, General Motors, doesn't matter,” I explained.
Sara opened the back door while I opened the other. We checked the seat belt adjuster and compared it to the one in our evidence bag.
“Looks like the same belt adjuster.”
“This one's missing,” Sara said as she showed me what she was talking about. Then she also pointed out the blood on the upper part of the seat belt. “This blood has to be from the shooting,” she continued while pulling out the seat belt even farther and finding even more blood. “This is from something else. There shouldn't be blood on this part of the seat belt. Think the under sheriff will let us talk to Aaron now?”
“If the DNA matches Simone Molinez's, anyone that was in this limo is up for murder. The, uh, under sheriff won't have a choice.”
Then I moved to leave the limo, I wanted to quickly get back to my office and begin my research for a good limo evening for Sara, but she stopped my actions when her hand landed on my thigh. Sara’s hand on my thigh means two things, something scared her or she wanted some. Looking up into her eyes, I could tell it was the latter.
“Wait,” she said, “You remember this morning when you asked me what I wanted for our upcoming anniversary?”
“Yeah,” I was a little scared that she could not only read my mind, but that she was gonna want to have sex right there in that limo right at that moment. But as the scenario played out in my head and I quickly weighed the pros and cons and also recalled our last excursion in the locker room shower, I realized that it may not be a bad idea. I wanted to make the first move though, and surprise her because I just love to surprise Sara and watch that shocked look spread across her face.
“I want you to take me out in a limo. I don’t care where we go, but you know…I’ve never actually ridden in a limo before…Or…” Oh please say it, please say it, “…had sex in a limo.”
That’s all I needed to hear and I reached to close my door and then hers as that stunned look, that I love, spread across her face. I reached over to lock all the doors and slowly leaned in towards her lips.
“Let’s cross one of those things off your list right now,” I said as my hand traveled up her leg and rested on her thigh.
She let out a breath that hit my lips just before my lips hit hers and we had sex for the second time at work, in a limo, in the lab’s garage, right on top of evidence. I have to keep repeating that to myself because I really can’t believe we did it…and we got away with it…for the second time. Even after almost two years of being together, I’m still left speechless by the things Sara can get me to do with just a simply Sidle smile. That really isn’t good, because I’m gonna want to do it even more at work and see what we can get away with before getting caught. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 33 – Empty Eyes
SARA:
I just love it when Grissom and I get a chance to stay at home and he cooks for me and we just relax on the couch with Bruno the entire evening. That didn’t get to happen today. Grissom left for our crime scene before me because well, he can get ready a lot quicker then I can and we are still trying not to drive to work together every single day. Anyways, so I finally got to the crime scene and began the hunt to locate my boss and find out where he wanted me.
The crime scene was at a sorority type house and I could smell the blood in the air, so I assumed there were multiple bodies. I made it up to the second floor and into the bedroom where Grissom was. I shined my flashlight in, but Grissom didn’t look up, he must have been deep in thought.
“My date got canceled,” I said to him.
He looked up, shining his flashlight back onto me and said, “I’m sure he had a good excuse.”
I stepped cautiously into the room with Grissom kneeling next to the bed with a dead woman on it.
“Looks like sexual assault. Bound, pants pulled down,” I stated the obvious.
“Yeah.”
“Where do you want me?”
“Next bedroom. There's another body in there.”
“Well, that makes five. The dispatch said there were six.”
“According to Brass, the boyfriend of one of the victims found the bodies. Said there were six roommates, all showgirls. Evidently, one didn't come home.”
“She picked the right night.”
So we were all investigating the deaths of six showgirls who shared this house. Grissom wanted me in the third bedroom, there was a dead girl on the first bed, but I had noticed some blood smeared on the floor next to the second bed in the room. So walked over and kneeled down to look under the bed when suddenly a bloody hand reached and scratched my face. It all happened so fast and really scared the shit out of me. I jumped back, yelled, “Hot scene! Suspect under the bed!” and grabbed for my gun.
My heart was pounding, but in seconds Grissom was in the room and after realizing the person under the bed wasn’t going to jump out and attack me, I looked back under the bed to see a woman, later identified as Cammie, huddled in a pool of blood with her hands tied in front of her.
“Please…please help me. Please,” she pleaded in gasps.
I put my gun down and reached for the woman begging for me to help her.
“Hold on,” I tell her. “Victim down! Call an ambulance!” I screamed for Grissom.
“Dispatch, this is CSI Grissom…” I can’t hear the rest of what Grissom is saying on the phone, I’m only focused on Cammie’s hand and trying to calm her down.
“You're safe now, okay? You're safe now. It's going to be okay.” But I wasn’t sure it will be.
Still gasping for breath, Cammie repeated, “Help me. Help me.”
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Ca…Cam…Cammie.”
“Cammie, I'm Sara. Who did this to you, Cammie?”
“Mm-an…mm-an.”
“The man, what did he look like?”
“Poor w…Poor wine…” That made no sense.
“Breast…Breast…knife…”
“He-he stabbed you in the chest?” I stutter as I was trying to hold it together and be strong for the woman possibly dying in my arms.
Cammie grunted and shook her head, “No.”
“I need some help here!” I shouted. Why couldn’t the ambulance get there any faster?
“Bye…Fin…”
“No, no. No.” I pleaded that she wouldn’t die right there.
But I couldn’t help her and she died right there in front of me, still holding onto my hand. I was emotionally distraught and barely holding it together when Jim came by to question me about what happened.
Jim tore me from my thoughts, “Look, I know this is tough, but did she give you anything?”
“She told me her name. When I went into the room, she thought that I was him.”
“Anything else?”
I just shook my head, “It didn't make any sense,” I told him as I struggled to flashback to the whole incident on the floor of that bedroom and I told him everything she had said to me.
I had just witnessed for the first time in my career, a person died right in front on me. I was the last thing Cammie saw before she died and I couldn’t do anything to save her. Nick said that it was a good thing that I was there with her so she didn’t have to die alone. Usually we show up too late to meet the victim, that’s how our jobs work, that’s how I know how to deal with it, not like this.
I spent most the day avoiding Grissom because I knew he would want to know I was alright and want to talk about it and coddle me and I knew that if he did, then I would break down all together.
Not long after arriving back to the lab from our crime scene, Nick, Brass and I were called to the scene of a bar fight, just a couple blocks from our crime scene, where we found our murder weapon, a knife, when an unknown suspect had stabbed a Marlon Frost in the neck, similar to our showgirls’ wounds.
Thinking Marlon was another innocent victim of our brutal killer, I sympathized with him and wanted to ride in the ambulance with him and process his clothes at the hospital. I even held his hand to try and comfort him.
“My name is Sara. Just hold on. You're going to be fine,” I told him, as I flashbacked to telling Cammie the exact same thing. “Do you know who did this to you?”
But he just looked at me as I held onto his hand. It was weird how he didn’t seem scared or worried or anything, his face was expressionless.
At the hospital, I snapped photos of Marlon’s wounds and reassured him that I would be finished soon and it wouldn’t hurt, as I also took his DNA and fingerprints. But again, he seemed unfazed by it all. Maybe he was still in shock or maybe he was a crazy serial killer.
Yep, as I took his fingerprints, I noticed the smudges on his fingertips and his callused fingers, similar to the suspect we had been chasing down for the showgirls’ murders. I looked up at him and he must have known that at that moment I had just put two and two together and realized he was the killer and he grabbed me hard with both his hands. I screamed and struggled to get him off me and in the struggle, his gown slipped off his shoulders, revealing a large discoloration…a birthmark, just like Cammie had tried to tell me. We had him.
I couldn’t avoid it any longer, I had to go report my findings to Grissom. “He has a vascular birthmark, a port wine stain, on his upper chest…that's what Cammie was trying to tell me. We can get DNA off his bloody clothes, but we have no blood or semen at the scene to compare it to. His prints are useless…they're all calluses. They only leave smudges, like the kind we found on the broken knife. I think the bastard tried to kill himself.”
“Sara, slow down. Frost isn't going anywhere.”
“I am going to nail this son of a bitch, and I don't want him to think for a single second that he is going to get away with this.”
“Okay, one step at a time.” He was trying to calm me down, but I barely listened.
“Frost smelled like alcohol when they took him into the ER so they ran a tox. His BAC came back .34 -- only a chronic alcoholic can function at those levels. You know what I think? I think he polished off the wine at the scene straight from the bottle.”
“So his DNA should be on it.”
I can’t even recall much else about the case as I sit here now, I just keep seeing Cammie’s bloody body laying in front of me begging to be saved. But as Grissom and I were in the break room packing up to leave, a news report flashed up on the tv screen and the reporter said, “Las Vegas PD has confirmed that David Marlon confessed earlier today to the murders of the six Green Valley showgirls…He was found within a block of the crime scene in an apparent suicide attempt. I've just been informed…has confirmed the names of the six victims. They
are Cammie…Libby Cooperson 22, Becca Mayfield, 20…”
“I held his hand,” I whispered to Grissom who stood so close behind me I could feel his breath on my neck and the comfort he wanted to give me. I couldn’t take it any more and the tears started down my face. I had held the killers hand, “Just like I held hers. I lost perspective.”
There in the middle of the break room, Grissom wiped the tears from my cheek and I turned to look at him. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and let me cry all night, but I knew I had to wait a little longer, wait until we were out of the lab and back at home.
The reporter continued on the screen, “…Lauren Walderson 21 and Emily Wilson, 19. Their
families have organized a candlelight vigil that will begin here tonight.”
Grissom must have been reading my mind and knew he had to get me home, so I could really let all my emotions flow out and onto his shoulder in the privacy of our house. He put his arm around me and didn’t even remove it as we walked out of the break room and toward the exit. The only person to see us together was a lone janitor mopping the floor, hopefully she’ll keep our secret, because at the time, I needed Grissom’s arm around me for comfort and I could have really cared less about who saw us.
GRISSOM:
I know I’ve nagged Sara over and over again about getting too attached to a case or its victims, but today’s case was completely excusable. And I worried so much about her throughout the entire case, but she held herself together like the unbelievably strong woman I fell in love with.
Our original plan for the evening was a date, where I cook for Sara and then we relax with Bruno the rest of the evening, but those plans were put on hold. I left for the crime scene quickly while Sara was left at the house to get ready and arrive separately from me. I got all the details from Jim when I got there and sent the team to different areas of the house to begin processing. There were six showgirls killed in their shared house.
Shining her flashlight into the bedroom I was processing, Sara startled me by saying, “My date got canceled.”
I’m glad she could find humor at the time because she was about to dive into a bloody mess. I shine my flashlight back at her, yep, just as beautiful as I had left her, and I said, “I'm sure he had a good excuse.”
Sara stepped cautiously into the room where I was kneeling next to the bed with a dead woman on it.
“Looks like sexual assault. Bound, pants pulled down.”
“Yeah.”
“Where do you want me?” Back at our house in bed with me.
“Next bedroom. There's another body in there.”
“Well, that makes five. The dispatch said there were six.”
“According to Brass, the boyfriend of one of the victims found the bodies. Said there were six roommates, all showgirls. Evidently, one didn't come home.”
“She picked the right night.”
So I sent Sara into the third bedroom to start processing and the next thing I know, I’m running to her after hearing her scream, “Hot scene! Suspect under the bed!” My heart wasn’t even beating as I raced the few steps to the room where she was. All I could imagine was that the disgusting bastard who had done this to these women were still in the house and now attacking Sara. Relief flooded over me though when I saw that it was another bloody body under the bed…I mean relief that Sara was alright, not that there was another body. The woman, later identified as Cammie, was pleading for help and Sara was yelling at me to get an ambulance, but I could tell they would never make it there in time.
With tears in her eyes, Sara tried to keep Cammie calm, while trying to keep her own emotions in check. I wanted to pull her away to avoid the pain she would feel if that woman died in her arms, but I knew Sara would never leave the poor woman. So I stood back and watched in pain as Cammie did indeed die right in Sara’s arms. Once Sara knew Cammie was dead, she stood and quickly ran past me and out of the house. I wanted to go console her, but Jim beat me to it and I had a job I needed to do, there was an asshole I needed to get behind bars for what he had done to these women and now Sara.
Sara avoided me the rest of the day and I suppose I was kinda also doing the same. I knew she would break down if I went to her and you know how well I do under those types of situations.
Next, Nick and Sara were sent out to a bar fight that had occurred only a few blocks from our crime scene and the victim of the stabbing was a Marlon Frost. Even though Nick warned her against it, Sara decided to ride with Marlon to the hospital to collect his clothes and other evidence. At the hospital, while fingerprinting Marlon, Sara realized from his uncharacteristic demeanor, emotionless actions, and calloused hands, that he was actually our showgirls’ murderer we had been looking for. He must have seen the light bulb come on in Sara’s head when she realized who was actually lying there in front of her in that hospital bed, because he tried to attack her. Thankfully, he was weak against her and she quickly got away with her anger boiling over even more then before.
Finally she made her way back to me and had a lot to say, “He has a vascular birthmark, a port wine stain, on his upper chest…that's what Cammie was trying to tell me. We can get DNA off his bloody clothes, but we have no blood or semen at the scene to compare it to. His prints are useless…they're all calluses. They only leave smudges, like the kind we found on the broken knife. I think the bastard tried to kill himself.”
“Sara, slow down. Frost isn't going anywhere.” She was way too into this case, way too involved.
“I am going to nail this son of a bitch, and I don't want him to think for a single second that he is going to get away with this.”
“Okay, one step at a time.”
“Frost smelled like alcohol when they took him into the ER so they ran a tox. His BAC came back .34…only a chronic alcoholic can function at those levels. You know what I think? I think he polished off the wine at the scene straight from the bottle.”
“So his DNA should be on it.” I think Sara would have done just about anything to catch this guy and her determination was inspiring and a little scary at the same time.
So we had finally caught the sicko and Sara and I were in the break room packing up to head home when the news reporter came on the screen and had to discuss this case that we had just closed. I knew Sara didn’t need to hear more about it and we both needed to get home.
“Las Vegas PD has confirmed that David Marlon confessed earlier today to the murders of the six Green Valley showgirls,” the reporter said as we both turned to watch the tv even though we shouldn’t, “He was found within a block of the crime scene in an apparent suicide attempt. I've just been informed…has confirmed the names of the six victims. They are Cammie…Libby Cooperson 22, Becca Mayfield, 20…”
“I held his hand…” Sara said. And next came the tears, but I was standing so close behind her that I hoped she knew I would wrap her up in my arms in a heartbeat if we we’re standing there in the middle of the break room. “…Just like I held hers,” she continued, “I lost perspective.”
I reached up to wipe the tears cascading down her cheek now and I knew I had to get her out of there, so she could cry more freely in my arms alone at home.
“…Lauren Walderson 21 and Emily Wilson, 19. Their families have organized a candlelight vigil that will begin here tonight,” the reporter finished.
I looked at her and with my eyes I told her it was time to go. She just nodded and we walked out into the hallway with my arm around her, it was late and I knew that no one was around to see us leave together, no one but a janitor we passed on our way out.
At home, I ran a bath for her and I let her relax as I walked Bruno and made something quick to eat even though I knew she wouldn’t want to eat anything. Then we curled up on the couch, I wrapped a blanket and my arms around her and she sobbed into my chest until we both fell asleep. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 32 – Fallen Idols
SARA:
Our case today involved a star high school basketball player, Ryan Lansco, and his cheerleader girlfriend, Megan Cooper. They went missing after a big game, Ryan died and Megan ended up paralyzed.
So Warrick and I were in the garage processing Ryan’s van, which was found abandoned in the desert.
“High school kid with a van. We could have half the senior class in here,” I said as I collect a plethora of DNA samples from the back of the van.
“Yeah, a bunch of minors that won't be in the system. That'll be helpful.”
I looked up at the front seat and opened the van door to find the seat pushed up much closer to the wheel then Ryan would have comfortably driven it. “Ryan is six feet. Whoever was driving must have adjusted the seat…Hello.”
“What you got?”
“I got a cell phone…battery's dead, so I don't know who it belongs to. But something tells me that pink is not Ryan's color.”
“I don't know,” Warrick said just before picking up a pink thong. “I think he might be always thinking pink…If these all belong to one girl, she's got nothing left to wear.”
“You know, when I was in college, I had this boyfriend and I thought we were monogamous. And one night, during the post-coital panty search, he handed me a pair of underwear that wasn't mine.”
“Ooh. How'd he explain that one?”
“He said they belonged to his sister.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I know.”
“Let's hope your taste in men has improved since then.”
“Yeah.” If you only knew.
So we wrapped up the case and it turned out that the photography teacher was sleeping with Ryan and stole his dead body after Megan and her friends had killed him because he was a man whore who was giving other girls crabs. The things kids do nowadays. And then Megan goes and says that she’s suffering just as much as Ryan because now she’s paralyzed for the rest of her life, um no, he’s dead and she’s still alive…not the same thing at all.
Anyways, so Grissom and I finally got back home, ate dinner, took Bruno for his evening walk and as we were settling down to watch tv, I had asked Grissom if he was planning on shaving his beard off again. He said, “Yes, tonight.”
“Let me shave you,” I asked
“Let me shave you,” he fought back.
“My legs, yes.”
“Deal.”
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
So I jumped off the couch and skipped into the bathroom.
“Right now?” he asked then slowly followed me into the bathroom.
“Yep,” I said as I picked up a washcloth, wet it and wiped down Grissom’s face. Then I picked up the canister of shaving cream, lathered it up in my hands and rubbed it all over Grissom’s current beard and mustache.
“You know I’ve never let anyone shave me,” he said to me. I knew he was a bit nervous.
I picked up a razor off the counter and held it up to his face. “You trust me?” I asked him.
He smiled and said, “Intimately.”
And he was right. Just when I thought our relationship couldn’t get any more intimate, we decide to shave each other. So after I was done with him and had only cut him twice, he rinsed his face off and started running a bath for us. We climbed into the tub and he lathered up my legs just as I did his face and thoroughly enjoyed running that razor along every inch of my legs. But let me just say, I have a lot more marks on my legs to remember this evening by then he’ll have on his face.
GRISSOM:
Jim called me in to investigate two missing kids this morning, a Saturday morning, in which I was snuggled up against Sara and planning on enjoying the day off and out at the park with Bruno and Sara. But I told him, “All right. But you owe me one for getting me out of bed on a Saturday morning.” I’m sure he figured I’d have nothing better to do.
Anyways, so I hate when people kill kids, but just as bad is when kids kill kids…and over stupid stuff like sleeping around and giving other girls crabs. Give me a freakin break. I mean I’m so irritated that I don’t even want to talk about the case, I mean, girlfriend and her friends go out and kill her boyfriend because he’s a horn dog and gave her crabs. And then the photography teacher, who the boyfriend was also sleeping with, steals his body, kills herself and photographs them together, to create, what Warrick thought to be a case of Romeo and Juliet, but turned out to be postmortem photography. In the 19th century, a photo of your dead loved one was a popular keepsake. Death remembered. One last look. Really…she was just crazy.
After a long day at work, which I shouldn’t have worked in the first place, Sara and I finally made it home, cooked up a quick dinner, walked Bruno and settled down to watch tv. Then out of the blue, Sara asked me if I plan on shaving my beard off again and I had actually planned on doing it that morning had I not have been called in to work.
“Let me shave you,” she asked.
“Let me shave you,” I fought back. There’s no way she would let me shave her legs, just like I wouldn’t let her shave my face.
“My legs, yes.” What? Where else did she think I wanted to shave…oh.
“Deal.” Two can play at this game.
“Deal?” She’s just as shocked as me. This is going beyond our comfort zones here.
“Deal.”
So she jumped off the couch and skipped into the bathroom.
“Right now?” I asked. I don’t even get any time to prepare for this.
“Yep,” she said. I slowly go to meet her in the bathroom, and then she picked up a washcloth, wet it and wiped down my face. Then she picked up the canister of shaving cream, lathered it up in her hands and rubbed it all over my face.
“You know I’ve never let anyone shave me,” I said to Sara. I was beyond petrified, not only because we are about to delve into some intimate territory here, but I was also scared Sara was gonna scar me for life.
She picked up a razor off the counter and held it up to his face. “You trust me?” She asked me.
I just smiled, took a deep breath and staring deep into her big beautiful eyes, said, “Intimately.”
After she was done and I was left with no facial hair and only two cuts on my face, I began to get excited about my next task. I was going to shave Sara’s legs, so I filled up the bath tub for us and we got in. I lathered up her legs a lot because I would really hate to scar up her gorgeous, long, lean legs. I was mesmerized as I avoid leaving an inch of her legs untouched by my fingers and the razor in my hand.
I thank god we had invested in the bigger jacuzzi bath tub, so I had plenty of room to toss the razor on the floor and pull Sara into my arms and make love to her while still in our bubble bath. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 31 – Law Of Gravity
SARA:
I woke up this morning full of energy and eager to see Grissom. He was scheduled to get back today and he was going straight from the airport to the lab to see me. The past couple of days on phone, he said that he had a surprise for me and promised I’d get it when he got back home. I was so excited to see him, I got into work early and what does Catherine give to me, a garbage dumb.
I was returning from my scene, smelling horribly and looking a mess. I wanted to hurry to the locker room and shower before Grissom got back, so that he could see me for the first time in four weeks, not looking like trash.
“Sara.” Damn it he’s back early. I turn around and smile at him. On one hand I’m beyond words happy to see him, but on the other hand I’m a little irritated again because hello, Grissom is never predictable, how could I have thought he’d be back on time. He takes his glasses off and he looks good.
“Hey. You're back.” I don’t know what to say to him that is appropriate.
“Yeah.”
He takes a step toward me, but I take a step back, trying to keep him away from me. It’s bad enough he sees me looking like this, but he doesn’t need to smell me also. Plus, I haven’t touched him in four weeks and I’m dying to reach out and hug him.
“Uh, I've…I've been out at a, um…I've been at…” Why am I stuttering around him?
“A garbage dump?” He tries getting closer again, but I back up some more and just smile.
“Yeah. It's so obvious, isn't it? Nice, um…You look good.”
“Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?”
“Cool, dry, not a lot of light. It seemed like the right place for it.”
“I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches.”
“I have no doubt…I'm gonna…go clean up now.”
“I'll see you later.”
“Yeah, you will.” Please follow me, please follow me. Who am I kidding, Grissom follow me into the women’s locker room, never in a million years…or so I thought. The locker room was deserted, so I stripped down and jumped into the shower, but I couldn’t get my mind off Grissom.
I had just seen him for the first time in four weeks and damn he looked good, relaxed, happy-- and that’s where my train of thought stopped, when someone pulled back my shower curtain, slammed me against the wall, crushing his lips onto mine. Gil Grissom was in the shower with me, in the middle of the day at work. I didn’t even have to open my eyes, I knew the feel of his lips. And there in the shower stall, we made love for the first time at work.
After a wonderful day at work, Grissom took me out for my surprise. He had promised me when he returned that he had something in store for me and that I’d love it. I had no idea what to expect especially after our surprise romp in the shower, Grissom was far from predictable today.
He blindfolded me and drove me away from work a few miles and when the car stopped, he removed my blindfold and I saw that we were parked at our local Humane Society’s animal shelter. What the hell? What did Grissom have up his sleeve? We had never even discussed getting a dog, children yes, there won’t be any, but I’ve wanted a dog for awhile now, I just never brought it up.
We got out of the car and he grabbed my hand, “I think we should get a dog,” is all he said as we walked thru the animal shelter and into the dog room. Grissom stopped in front of a cage, holding a four year old Boxer named Bruno. Bruno was wearing a black collar with grasshoppers on it and Grissom was in love…and so was I.
We adopted Bruno and now you could say we are a very happy family.
GRISSOM:
The first thing I wanna do is find Sara and just see her, look at her for the first time in four weeks, but she’s out working a case, doing a garbage dumb. She’s gonna need a shower when she comes back, I could help her out--, but I lose my growing fantasy when Judy greets me at the front desk as I return to work after my long sabbatical.
“Welcome back, Dr. Grissom.”
“It's good to be back, Judy.”
“There are no words to describe how glad I am you're back.” Oh god, it’s Hodges.
“But I'm sure you'll find some.”
“The lab almost went to hell in a handbag while you were sabbaticalling. I'm sure you talked to Catherine, but just in case you didn't…lot of hurt feelings, so in case you talk to Nick…
“I'd rather hear it from Catherine, thanks.” I already heard it all from Sara.
“Fair enough, but, uh, permit me to say that the "Seasonal Behaviors of the Walden Pond Swamp Mosquito" was an incredibly stimulating seminar.”
“And you know this how?”
“I took your course online. It's free to alumni.”
“Oh, you're Spanky.” Get out of here.
“Seven-four-three. I aced the final, didn't I?” No really, get out of here.
Ok, I’m back in Vegas, I don’t want to talk any more about my seminar. So I head to my office and am overwhelmed with the amount of mail on my desk, including a huge cardboard box. I only sigh and leave my office again. I need to work, I need to do something other then open boring mail, I need to see Sara. But I run into this Keppler guy first.
“Michael Keppler.”
“Hi, Gil Grissom.” We shake hands, but Sara already has me paranoid because of everything she’s told me about him.
“How's everybody been treating you?”
“No complaints; you've got a great team.” I know.
“Yeah, thanks. Does Ecklie still have you slotted for days?”
“As far as I know.”
“I hear you're working the double homicide at the Olympia. What have you got?”
“Oh, it's uh, bullets from Doc Robbins. I was going to run them through IBIS.”
“The dead cop was from your hometown, huh?”
“Yeah. Retired.”
“Did you know him?”
“You know how many retired cops there are in Trenton?”
“Well, it's great to finally meet you.” With that he shakes my hand again and turns to leave.
I had to wait for what seemed like hours later to finally see Sara. She was quickly walking past my office wearing one of those blue jumpsuits and she had smudges of dirt all over her face. I wanted to kiss her so badly.
“Sara.”
She turns around pleasantly surprised, as I smile and take my glasses off.
“Hey. You're back.”
“Yeah.”
I take a step toward her, but she takes a step back and I’m a little confused. I haven’t touched her in four weeks and my fingers are aching to feel her skin.
“Uh, I've…I've been out at a, um…I've been at…” Why is she stuttering?
“A garbage dump?”
I try getting closer once again, but she backs up again and just smiles.
“Yeah. It's so obvious, isn't it? Nice, um…You look good.”
“Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?”
“Cool, dry, not a lot of light. It seemed like the right place for it.”
“I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches.”
“I have no doubt…I'm gonna ... go clean up now.”
“I'll see you later.”
“Yeah, you will.”
But I can’t wait for later. Throwing caution to the wind, I want to put into motion my earlier fantasy. Only a select few people know I’m back, so if I sneak away no one will notice. It’s still the middle of the day, everyone is still out at their crime scenes and the women’s locker room is empty except for one single shower stall occupied.
I would never even dream about doing this if it hadn’t been four weeks since I saw Sara, so I lock the door behind me and slip into the locker room. I quietly walk up to the shower stall and double check to make sure it’s her clothes on the bench outside the stall. I can’t help but sneak a peak in to triple check it’s Sara before I get completely naked and jump in with her. Sure enough it is, but I can’t get my eyes off of her as I disrobe. I slowly pull back the curtain and startle her, but just before she can speak, I cover her mouth with mine and crush her against the wall. I have never been so not in control of myself as I was in that shower stall. It was incredible and no one ever had any idea what was going on in that locker room.
So after a refreshing day back to work, I had a surprise for Sara. I blindfolded her and drove her to our local Humane Society’s animal shelter. Yep, I decided it was time for us to adopt a dog. Saying she was shocked is an understatement. We had never even discussed getting a dog, but I thought it was a good step for us and I knew she would agree. We took a long walk thru the dog room and one certain dog caught my eye, he was wearing a black collar with grasshoppers on it. He was a four year old boxer named Bruno and we adopted him. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 30 – Meet Market
SARA:
Between the two or us, I never thought that I’d be the one to break down and pick up the phone first, but I had a horrendous day that reminded me what it’s like to be single again and I despised it. So I called Grissom, thanked him for the cocoon stick, told him all about all my cases I’ve been working, how much I missed him and when he said, “What are you wearing?” we also engaged in our very first phone sex conversation.
But let me start from the beginning…today at work, Warrick and I investigated the death of a woman, Margo Dorton, who was bludgeoned to death with a bottle of champagne, but the weird part of the case was that she had been paying someone for companionship. Yeah, get ready for this. So Warrick and I went to the place where Margo paid for this companionship and let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot in this city, but this was all new. We walked down a long hallway with rooms on both sides, one of the rooms held a man and a woman sitting at a table, the next room held a larger group of people, and in the next room two women were looking through a binder full of photos of men.
“Is this a restaurant?” I asked Warrick.
“If it is, I'm scared of the menu.”
At the end of the hallway, there was a bar with a bartender waiting for us. Warrick left to question the bus boy and I approached the bar.
“Would you like a Meet Book or do you have a steady host?” he asked me.
“Uh, actually, it's my first time. What exactly goes on here?”
“This is a host club, a place where men entertain women. It's the first of its kind in Las Vegas. They started in Japan. Take your pick.” He handed me a thick binder, which I took and began looking thru. “Hosts get paid by the bottle. There's a two-bottle minimum. Bottles range from $50 to $5,000.”
“What's a $5,000 bottle of champagne taste like?” I asked.
“We only sell one brand of champagne. It's the host attached to the bottle that determines price.”
“Oh. Everything is legal in Clark County.”
“Miss, we don't sell sex here.” Yeah right.
“What do you sell?”
“A relationship. Isn't that what most women want?” Was he kidding me? I thought this was crazy, but I was already at the end of the diving board, so I might as well just jump in.
“I don't know. But I know what I want. I want Jesse.” I stopped on a photo of Jesse because he was kinda cute and reminded me of the kid Matt in Nip/Tuck.
“Who doesn't? Let me see if he's available.” And with that, he took the binder and went to get Jesse for me. Here goes.
“Ah, just off work, huh?” He’s even cuter in person.
“Just on, actually. Sara Sidle, Crime Lab.” Let me stop this right now and get down to business before I get into some trouble.
“Oh. What can I do for you?” he asks me.
“Do you know this woman?”
“Ah. Lady Dorton. Yeah, she's one of my relationships.”
“Could I ask you a few questions about her?”
“Okay. Um, I don't like to talk about my relationships out here. Let's take it someplace a little more intimate, yeah?”
“Okay.” Whatever will get this interview over faster, but he takes my hand and leads me into an empty, private room. Oh no. Quick, back to the questioning, “How did you meet Margo?”
“Uh, she picked me from the Meet Book.” Just like me.
“And then what?”
“Uh, she wanted what most women want.”
“What's that?” He offers me a drink, but I decline, I just want him to continue.
“The dream.”
“And that's you.”
“50 G's I make a month says I am. Who doesn't want to be swept off their feet?”
“I am not sure it's something that I would pay for.”
“Yeah, but you don't want to spend your whole life waiting for it either. Right here, right now, a woman can have a relationship with a man who only wants to please her -- who can make her laugh, wipe away her tears, give her the confidence to be herself.” I miss Grissom.
“And how many of these relationships do you have?”
“I can handle about twenty-five at a time.” Jesus, I can barely handle one.
“Is a woman named Cotton Candy one of them?
“Yeah. She's been financially worshipping me for a while.”
“Now, she says that she is your fiancée.”
“That's good. Means I'm doing my job.”
“She told me that she and Margo had a scuffle.”
“Yeah. Um…my relationships do get jealous sometimes, especially when one has more money than the other and can monopolize my time. Is that why you're here, because of that little catfight?”
“No. Um, Margo Dorton was…bludgeoned to death with a bottle of champagne.”
“Margo was…killed?”
“Yeah.”
“And you think Cotton Candy killed Margo?”
“What do you think?”
“Um…I wouldn't know.”
“Would you know if Margo took you home the other night?”
“I don't see my relationships outside of here. You know, if it does happen, it marks the end of the relationship. I mean, by having sex with me, a woman's reached her goal. There's nothing more I can give her.”
“Did Margo's husband know about you?”
“She told me she was divorced.”
“Well, Jesse…I'm, uh, sorry for your loss.” And with that, the discussion was over and I left to find Warrick and get out of that place.
In the three weeks that Grissom’s been gone, many times when I miss him greatly during the work day I will make my way into his office and just sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and do my paperwork, it’s quiet and it makes me feel better, like he’s kinda there with me.
Anyways, so after the whole Jesse encounter I needed to be in Grissom’s office to relax for a bit. But as I walked in, I noticed Keppler looking at the miniature dioramas from our Miniature Crime Scene Killer.
“Hi. What are you doing?” I ask.
“Just looking.” Well can you do it later?
“What do you think?”
“Meticulous. Obsessive. Clearly knows his way around a modeling kit.” Oh, he thought Grissom made them.
“Grissom didn't make those.”
“No? Hmm. Fits the profile. Bugs in bottles, the Darwin desk set.”
“He's a bit of a collector of certain things.” You should try living with him.
“Yeah, I knew a guy in Philly like that. Kept a case of thumbs in his closet.”
“Friend of yours?”
“No, a serial killer.”
“Do you miss it?” Am I really carrying on a conversation with this weirdo?
“What?”
“Philly.”
“No.” And with that he leaves me to my peace and quiet in Grissom’s office. His desk is covered in mail and boxes, one huge one particularly, which reminds me of my cocoon present, so I stroll over to the tank where I had placed the stick after I had got it in the mail. I really miss Grissom and at that moment I realize I have to call him after work.
I finish up the case early and head home, I grab a soda and sit down on the couch with my cell phone. I don’t know why, but I’m a little nervous about calling Grissom, like we’re back in high school or something. He sounds so happy to hear from me, just as happy as I am to just hear his voice. There’s no arguing or bickering, we just tell each other how much we miss each other and then we easily descend back into our normal conversation. I told him all about Jesse and I could tell thru the phone that he was a little jealous. I told him all about Keppler and then of course Grissom knew I just had to have something to complain about Catherine. He told me all about how his classes were going and the places he was visiting.
There was a long pause about an hour into our conversation and he said the four words I never thought he’d say, “What are you wearing?” Now, I know where I wanted this conversation to go, but I wasn’t sure about him. I was horny as hell and missed him like crazy and if he wanted to do this, then game on. “Give me a second and the answer will be…nothing.” He just groaned into the phone, thus beginning our first phone sex conversation. Neither of us had engaged in phone sex before, but we couldn’t have been too bad because within five minutes we both had come.
“We are definitely doing that again,” I told him before I told him I loved him and I’d call him tomorrow.
GRISSOM:
Well, Sara finally broke down and called me today and thank god she did because I really couldn’t take it much longer. What brought upon her phone call was some young, cute guy named Jesse hitting on her during a murder investigation. She said that it reminded her of what it was like being single again, but I think that she just wanted to make me a little jealous. I didn’t bring up our terrible goodbye or anything like that because I didn’t want to fight, I just wanted to sit there and talk to the love of my life and catch up on the last three weeks I have missed with her.
After a long pause about an hour into our conversation, I don’t know what came over me, but I asked her what she was wearing. I cringed a little after saying it, like it may have been a little inappropriate, but then she said, “Give me a second and the answer will be…nothing.” Once I knew she was game, my pants were off in seconds.
I had never engaged in phone sex before and neither had Sara, but we both got each other off in a matter of minutes. After she said, “We are definitely doing that again,” I knew I’d being called her every night for the remainder of my trip.
After we said our ‘I love yous’ and ‘goodbyes’, and after a cold shower, I sat down to write a letter to Sara to truly convey my feelings for her while we are apart. Though I’m not sure I will ever have to balls to mail it, I need to at least get my feelings down onto paper. So I sit down at my desk after our incredible phone conversation.
Sara,
Our parting was awkward. I don’t know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings for you…even though we’re far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me…I said I’ll miss you, and I do.
Sonnet #47
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famished for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thy self away, art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight
I finish the letter, fold it up and put it into an envelope, but I only get half way thru her address before I chicken out and place it on the nightstand and decide not to send it. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 29 – Redrum
SARA:
Well, Grissom’s been gone two weeks and just when I thought things weren’t going to work out between us, that we’ve hit a wall, that we were both too stubborn for our own good, Grissom sends me a stick in the mail. Yeah, it was so Grissom. There’s actually a cocoon attached to the stick, but when I pulled it out of that box addressed to me, from Grissom, I just had to smile. I even dug farther into the box, hoping to find something, anything, a letter, a note, a diamond ring, but who am I kidding, it was the perfect Grissom gift. First he gave me a plant and now a stick, what could be next?
Anyways, at work, things are getting down right dirty. That skank Catherine and that creep Keppler both went against the rest of the team and did this reverse forensics thing and created a fake crime scene behind our backs today and is really pissed me off. I mean, I joined forces with Nick, Greg and Warrick and risked my job to find out what was going on. I even had to sneak into Grissom’s office and into his desk to steal a key to the temporary lockers where Catherine was hiding the evidence from us.
We of course, being excellent CSIs, figured out what was going on and confronted them and they finally cracked down and told us everything, but Catherine kinda just blew us off and acted like it was nothing. Nick was especially pissed off for being lied too and deceived like that. Catherine said it was all to catch a killer, but I was so mad I had nothing to say to her.
Hodges’ theory is that Keppler is here in the lab as a mole or something to spy on us. “Ten to one, it’s Internal Affairs. Got a vibe off Keppler the minute he blew in. Always with a suit. If you got any dirty laundry, I hope you used bleach,” is actually what he said, while I was carrying my gift from Grissom, my supervisor who I’m in a relationship with, thru the lab and toward the locker room.
GRISSOM:
This is the longest I have ever gone without seeing Sara since she moved to Las Vegas. I sent my cocoon present to her last week and I await hearing from her. I imagine her walking thru the halls at work with the package in her arms, so excited about what I had sent her and glad to know that I still love her even from this far away. I had triple checked the address to make sure I got it right, I wanted to make sure she got this gift from me.
Sara Sidle, 3057 Westfall Ave, Las Vegas, NV 89156
And I wanted to also make sure I included my current address for to next two weeks, just incase she wanted to send me a letter or come surprise me with a visit.
Grissom, Walden Pond Research Center, Concord, MA 01742-4511
I was a little worried she wouldn’t like it or wouldn’t understand, but after she threatened to take a long leave of absence and I sent her a plant, she stayed, and we weren’t even in a relationship together back then. I still haven’t called her, I really don’t know what I’d say, plus I’d rather that she called me first. Is that bad of me? | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 28 – Sweet Jane
SARA:
Well Grissom’s been gone one week and I miss him so much, but I’m not gonna pick up the phone and call him. He’s the one who left me, so he needs to call me first, right?
Anyways, we were doing just fine for one whole week being one person short, but no, Ecklie threw a newbie into our team to pick up the slack while Grissom’s away. As Catherine said, “Well, he was hired to staff the new day shift, but…since we're one shy with Grissom away, Ecklie wanted us to break him in for a few weeks.” Whatever. He’s entirely too serious and way too quiet. I get a real bad feeling about him and you know the quiet ones are the ones you have to worry about. But it wasn’t too long before Catherine was throwing herself, and her chest, at him.
So Keppler is from Baltimore, which got me thinking how I’ve never been to Maryland. I’ve always wanted to travel to Maryland, to our nation’s capital and all its surroundings. Grissom and I should take a trip to Washington D.C. next, I mean…never mind I’m still mad at him.
So our case today, and I’m sorry if I ramble on and on, but usually I have Grissom to ramble on and on to and since he decided to be an ass and leave me for 4 weeks, this is all I’ve got. So the dead body of a young woman was found and identified as Veronica Sorenson and Doc Robbins determined the C.O.D. was asphyxiation. He also found signs of vaginal trauma, but no semen, indicating the killer used a condom. There was cotton trace on her body suggesting she was washed before she was dumped, revealing that this probably wasn’t the first time our killer has murdered someone. Searching back thru some cold cases, we found three Jane Does bearing several similarities to our current case. The Jane Does’ cases were from 1999, 1989, and 1975 and because of crappy police work and the lack of technology we have now, all the cases ran cold.
So Doc Robbins exhumed the bodies and discovered that all three women had dental work very similar to Veronica’s. Next we learned that they were all patients of the Colebert Dental Group and all saw Dr. David Lowry, who’s been practicing dentistry for 32 years, old enough to have seen all of our victims. We matched bite marks found on one of the victims to Dr. Lowry but he seems unfazed. He was an old man by now and would surely die before he’d even have to worry about being executed. But to top it all off, the heartless old bastard wouldn’t tell us the names of his other victims, leaving little chance that their families will get closure.
GRISSOM:
God I miss Sara so much. She hasn’t called me yet and I’m too afraid to call her. I was going to write a letter, but is it too soon? I mean we’ve only been apart for a week, maybe she needs some space, maybe she’ll call me, maybe I shouldn’t worry about it, maybe I’ll stop missing her so much.
Well, I’m at least going to send her a present. While taking a walk thru a lush garden near campus today I came across the most beautiful cocoon and I can only imagine the beautiful butterfly which will blossom from it. It made me immediately think of Sara, so I gently cut the branch off the tree and carried it back too my hotel. I know she’ll love it.
I wonder how work is going without me there. I’m enjoying teaching very much, more then I thought I would. At least now I know I have a definite back up plan when I’m finished being a CSI. It’s so wonderful to walk into a classroom and see all those faces eager to learn from me and bursting with questions to ask me, which also reminds me of Sara and when we first met. Will I ever be able to get her out of my mind? I wish she was here with me. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 27 – Leaving Las Vegas
SARA:
Nick told me today in the locker room about a discussion he had with Catherine today in the car on the way to their crime scene.
“Sabbatical’s usually a euphemism for “sayonara.” I don’t think Grissom’s coming back.” Nick said to Catherine.
“Why wouldn't he?”
“I don’t know. He shaved his beard, he’s lost a little weight, he’s been leaving when shift is over. I think he even took a day off last week.”
“Maybe he's got himself a girlfriend.” Maybe he’s getting laid.
“That’s what I'm saying…”
Oh my god. So they have noticed the change in Grissom. Nick then asked what I thought was going on with Grissom and I just played it off like I had no idea.
And that’s just how the day began. After Nick and my talk, I’m in the locker room, taking my jacket off, getting ready for work, when Grissom walks in. We had talked briefly about this teaching opportunity, but Grissom never seemed serious about it until he sprung it all on me this morning over breakfast. Giving me absolutely no time to prepare or argue or congratulate him, or anything. We are a couple now, right? Shouldn’t we discuss things like him leaving me for four whole weeks?
“Hey.” Grissom greeted me. I look up at him, I’m still furious.
“My cab’s here.”
“So, you’re going.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
Let me at least be civil about this and not let him leave with us mad at each other. I turned back to my locker. Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work. I will not be angry with him, I will not be angry with him. He’s not saying anything. God, say something Grissom. He turns and looks down the hallway, then looks back at me. He steps into the room a little more. Say something that will make all this better. Surprise me Grissom.
“I’ll miss you.”
I just nod. He’s leaving me for four weeks and that’s all he has to say to me. He’s treating me like just another fellow coworker, not like his girlfriend he just made love to this morning in their shared apartment. Fine, then I have nothing to say. After a moment, Grissom leaves the room.
“I’ll miss you too,” I whisper into the empty locker room.
GRISSOM:
I find Sara in the locker room, taking her jacket off, I realize I won’t be seeing that for four weeks. I know she’s mad at me for deciding to do all this without discussing it with her. But really, it was kinda a last minute decision and something I really need to do, in order to prove to myself that I am still a good teacher. I cautiously step into the locker room.
“Hey,” I say and she looks up at me with hurt in her beautiful eyes. Oh, she’s mad. She’s mad like, ‘This isn’t about the hamburger thing’ mad.
“My cab's here,” I say
“So, you're going,” she seems surprised.
“Yeah,” is all I can say. Please don’t let this turn into a fight. I want to leave on a good note.
“I'll see you when you get back,” she says nicely, but her voice holds a deeper meaning. She turns back to her locker and I stall a bit longer to be in her presence a bit longer. What can I say to make all this better? What can I do? I turn to look down the hallway to see if anyone else is around. I want to run to her and hug her and kiss her goodbye, but we are at work and I missed my opportunity this morning at home by pissing her off. I take one step closer and she looks up at me. I don’t know what to do.
“I'll miss you.” Very creative, yes, I know. But Sara only nods. She doesn’t say anything, which hurts me more then if she had walked over and slapped me across the face. I couldn’t stand there any longer, so I just left. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 26 – Loco Motives
SARA:
I love when I get those chances to do something to Grissom that he always pulls off doing to me. Embarrassing me in the lab, proving me wrong, pulling me into a weird experiment, and so much more. But I absolutely hate when he figures something out or gets an idea for something and just leaves the room, leaving me hanging and wanting to know more but knowing I’ll have to wait until he wants to come back and fill me in.
Well today we had yet another case of the Miniature Crime Scene Killer and Grissom and I were discussing the miniature left at today’s crime scene. I was scanning over the employment records and made a connection between two of our victims, but instead of mentioning it aloud to Grissom I just gave him a little snippet. “Mannleigh Chickens,” I notice from the employment records.
“What about it?” Grissom asks, completely unaware about what I’m about to pull.
“I’ll let you know,” is all I say as I pick up the file folder and head out the door. I turn around one last time to glance back at him to confirm what I already knew, he was wearing this confused face and then the ‘I know what you’re trying to do’ face. I give him a quick grin and leave him out of the loop.
GRISSOM:
Well today Greg and I showed up at the Mannleigh Chicken slaughterhouse, where the body of the nightshift cleaner, Raymundo Suarez, was lying facedown in the tank used to electrocute the chickens. I was sure glad I hadn’t brought Sara with me, then I would have been a dead man, she may have even electrocuted me in that tank. I made that mistake once with raw hamburger meat and I’ll never do that again. If she had really followed thru with that “leave of absence,” I could have lost Sara forever.
Anyways, Ernie Dell, another maintenance worker, told Jim that Raymundo was sleeping with the wife of the owner, Ike Mannleigh. What made this case a hundred times worse what the miniature replica of the crime scene of the slaughterhouse. It was our third victim of the Miniature Crime Scene Killer and I was getting highly frustrated.
Later on back at the lab, I took a closer look at our latest miniature and pleasantly surprised, I found a connection to the first two. There was a red haired doll in every miniature and I smiled at my new discovery.
“You look like a kid who's just found the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jacks box.” Sara says as she walks into the room.
“Definitely some kind of doll.”
“It sure is.”
I turn around and point out the other doll photos from the other miniature crime scenes. “Three different views of the same dead doll. Maybe this is more than a signature. Maybe there's something these victims have in common.”
“First two victims were white, third Hispanic, two men, one woman, one rich, two poor, one young, two old, one famous, two obscure…”
I interrupt her, “Yeah…” Then I pick up our blurry photo of the person who delivered the box with the miniature crime scene in it to the front porch of our crime scene. “And unfortunately, this is the best lead we have for their killer.”
Sara takes the blurry photo from me and asks, “This is the most that Archie could get off that video?”
“Yeah, well, with the equipment we have here.”
“I’m getting Raymundo’s cell phone records. I’m gonna see if any of his calls are a match to the numbers that Penny Garden and Izzy Delancy had in common.”
“Whatever happened with that number we got off the disposable cell phone? Any luck with that?”
“Disposable phone numbers are assigned by the carrier to the phone distributors. It took a little bit of legwork, but I did find the store where the phone was sold.”
“Let me guess. It was paid for with cash.”
“Yeah.” Sara says the notices something in the employment records. “Mannleigh
Chickens.”
“What about it?” Where are you going with this Sara? Do you have an idea? Is there a connection? But instead of answering any of my questions, she picks up the file folder and said, “I’ll let you know,” and then she heads for the door, but looks back toward me once more, “See how it feels?” Oh no she didn’t just pull a ‘Grissom’ on me. She’s trying to hide a smile as she leaves me stunned in the layout room.
I don’t know why I ever doubt Sara. She found a connection between Izzy Delancy and Raymundo Suarez. Izzy filmed a PSA revealing the cruel way Ike Mannleigh, Raymundo Suarez’s boss, slaughtered chickens on his farm, costing Mannleigh sixty percent of his business. We questioned Mannleigh, who admitted to holding a grudge against Izzy, but claims he had no beef with Raymundo, even though Raymundo was sleeping with his wife.
Then the logo on the shirt of the man who delivered the second miniature crime scene to Penny Garden’s house was identified as Locomotiveville, a model making club. The club’s website revealed that Ernie Dell, the maintenance man from the Mannleigh Slaughterhouse, is a member. We searched Ernie’s house and discovered it filled with model towns and miniature crime scenes everywhere. Ernie, who appeared in Izzy’s PSA and also was Penny’s handyman, denied any involvement. Sara was able to trace minutes purchased on a disposable mobile phone to Ernie’s credit card, so the police headed to his house to arrest him, just before I received a video from Ernie of him confessing to all the murders and then he shot himself right in front of the camera just as the police arrived at his house. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 25 – Happenstance
SARA:
One side of me loves going to court to testify against criminals and explain all my evidence, but the other side of me despises it. Today was one of those days I despise. I sat around all day waiting to testify and they never got to me. I could have spent the day in the lab, with Grissom. I finally made my way back to the lab to check in on Grissom before heading home and I found him in his office reading ‘Walden.’
“I heard the guys solved a double murder.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the courtroom; they never got to me.”
“That sucks.”
“Feeling transcendental?”
“Hmm?”
“Thoreau. I, uh, I haven’t read him since college.”
“Me, neither. It holds up. ‘I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.’”
I turned and picked up a clipboard with Grissom’s latest crossword puzzle on it. “Oh, look, you missed one. Sixty-three down. Misanthrope.”
He looked up at me, but didn’t say anything as I set the puzzle back down. “I won’t wait up.” And with that I turned and left. Sure enough though, Grissom wasn’t far behind me.
GRISSOM:
Well, I worked a stunning case today with two identical victims and both women were found dead on the same night. Amanda Sinclair, the wife of a successful doctor, was shot twice at close range in the parking lot outside a Laundromat, while Jill Case, the editor-in-chief of the Las Vegas Globe, was found hanging off a railing in her apartment. The case gets even more shocking when we learned that the two women were adopted separately and didn’t even know about each other. Catherine was certain their deaths were related, but I wasn’t convinced as easily.
I’m not going to bore you with all the details that interest me, but in the end some stupid creep killed them both. Archie uncovered evidence that photographs taken by Jake Lenore while in Iraq, that he then gave to Jill, were photoshopped. We questioned Jake, but of course he denied everything. But after a search warrant for his house and some dumpster diving we had more then enough evidence. Sure enough we got a full confession. Amanda and Jill had strangely enough used the same Laundromat and never had run into each other. So anyways, Jake hid out there, knowing when Jill picked up her dry cleaning, but he accidentally shot Amanda thinking she was Jill and then headed to Jill’s house to steal her computer and hide the evidence of his photoshopped photos. But when Jill came home and surprised Jake, he strangled her and made it look like a suicide.
I love my job.
In my office later that night waiting for Sara to get back from court, I was engrossed in reading ‘Walden,’ when my honey walked in.
“I heard the guys solved a double murder.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the courtroom; they never got to me.”
“That sucks.”
“Feeling transcendental?”
“Hmm?”
“Thoreau. I, uh, I haven’t read him since college.”
“Me, neither. It holds up. ‘I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.’”
Sara turned and picked up the clipboard with the crossword puzzle on it. “Oh, look, you missed one. Sixty-three down. Misanthrope.”
I looked at her. She’s so beautiful. She puts the clipboard down and simply says, “I won't wait up.”
She turned and left the room, but I closed my book and quickly followed. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 24 – Post Mortem
SARA:
Our latest case involved a murder victim, Penny Garden, where a miniature crime scene was created and left after the crime occurred. This has to be related to the first victim, Izzy Delancy. Grissom was sharing his findings with me in his office as I was seated across from him. “Penny Garden was poisoned with nicotine.”
“Well, that’s not exactly a surprise -- the woman smoked liked a chimney.”
“She didn’t smoke it. She drank it. Liquid nicotine. Truman Capote used it as a murder weapon in his story, ‘Hand-Carved Coffins,’ and our killer put it in Aunt Penny's liqueur bottle. A cigarette introduces approximately one milligram of nicotine into the body. The liqueur contained over 60. A dose that massive can induce severe convulsions…and evidently, mess up a meticulously crafted murder. That's why the miniature wasn't at the crime scene. The killer was compelled to fix it, so that it would match what actually happened.”
“Liquid nicotine is in a lot of smoking cessation products.”
“Yeah. Commonly available to just about anyone. Any luck with the vic’s calls?”
“Kind of. I data-mined the home phone numbers of Izzy Delancy and Penny Garden. They actually had ten numbers in common. Information, couple of mail-order catalogs, power company, Moviefone. There’s one other number which turned out to be an untraceable disposable cell phone – suggests someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
Greg appears in the doorway. “Hey, boss, unless you need me for something, I'm gonna take off.”
“Yeah. Take off that suit, too.” I shoot Grissom a death glare. We had just talked about how he needed to be a little nicer to Greg, especially with all that he is going thru. Greg turns to leave, Grissom stops him.
“And Greg…you did a good job.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Greg turns and leaves. I turn to look at Grissom, I love when he listens to me.
GRISSOM:
I was sharing my findings with Sara seated across from me in my office. It’s the second victim of our newly named ‘Miniature Crime Scene Killer,’ “Penny Garden was poisoned with nicotine.”
“Well, that’s not exactly a surprise -- the woman smoked liked a chimney.”
“She didn’t smoke it. She drank it. Liquid nicotine. Truman Capote used it as a murder weapon in his story, ‘Hand-Carved Coffins,’ and our killer put it in Aunt Penny’s liqueur bottle. A cigarette introduces approximately one milligram of nicotine into the body. The liqueur contained over 60. A dose that massive can induce severe convulsions…and evidently, mess up a meticulously crafted murder. That’s why the miniature wasn't at the crime scene. The killer was compelled to fix it, so that it would match what actually happened.”
“Liquid nicotine is in a lot of smoking cessation products.”
“Yeah. Commonly available to just about anyone. Any luck with the vic’s calls?”
“Kind of. I data-mined the home phone numbers of Izzy Delancy and Penny Garden. They actually had ten numbers in common. Information, couple of mail-order catalogs, power company, Moviefone. There’s one other number which turned out to be an untraceable disposable cell phone – suggests someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
Greg appears in the doorway. “Hey, boss, unless you need me for something, I’m gonna take off.”
“Yeah. Take off that suit, too.” Stop it Grissom. Be a nicer to Greg. Isn’t that what Sara and I were just arguing about? Greg turns to leave, but I stop him on the way to shocking myself and quite possibly Greg and Sara also. “And Greg…you did a good job.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Does it really matter that much to him what I think? Greg leaves and I look back at Sara with a ‘see I’m trying’ look on my face. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 23 – Burn Out
SARA:
Pretty easy day at work, plus I got to work with Greg and that is always fun. We were working in the lab alone so I had put on some music for us and I may have possibly turned it up too loud because when Grissom walked in, he grimaced and turned the music off.
“Didn’t we talk about this once before, Greg?” Grissom was about to yell at Greg when I jumped in.
“I'm the one who turned the music on.” With that Grissom stopped what he was about to say and heads over to get our results from Greg.
Later on in Grissom office, we were all together again discussing our case.
“And if Hodges can isolate any unique compounds from the gas, you know, like, gas DNA.” Greg begins.
“Gasoline comparisons are only credible if you have pure samples. Otherwise, there are too many variables.” He knows that Grissom.
“I know that, Grissom. What I've extracted was never exposed directly to the fire. So, if we can identify either a dye, or a unique compound, and match to a particular station, then we might be able to prove whether Carl set the fire.” It’s an extreme long-shot and it shows on Grissom’s face. “I’ll get this to Hodges.” And Greg leaves the room.
“Greg’s got the coroner's inquest coming up. He's been under a lot of stress. Maybe you could be a little nicer to him.” If Greg won’t stand up to Grissom, I sure as hell will.
“I just want to find these boys.” Grissom got really worked up and stressed out over this case. I owed him a nice long back massage that evening and he sure needed it.
GRISSOM:
I hate the cases we have to work involving children. Today it was two missing boys Lucas Hanson and Jason Crowley and our prime suspect was a local pedophile named Carl Fisher, the sole reason for my current migraine.
I went to meet up with Sara and Greg in the lab to get some results from our case. Loud music was blasting inside the room when I walked in. I don’t need this right now, so I walk over and turn the music off. Greg turns and looks at up at me and I’m close to giving him one of my lectures.
“Didn't we talk about this once before, Greg?”
“I’m the one who turned the music on.” Well great, I can’t yell at Sara if I want that back massage tonight. So I don’t say anything and walk over to Greg to get his results.
“What have you found?”
“A gas container. As the heat melted the plastic, it formed pockets, trapping the gasoline inside…And if Hodges can isolate any unique compounds from the gas, you know, like, gas DNA.”
“Gasoline comparisons are only credible if you have pure samples. Otherwise, there’s too many variables.”
“I know that, Grissom. What I've extracted was never exposed directly to the fire. So, if we can identify either a dye, or a unique compound, and match to a particular station, then we might be able to prove whether Carl set the fire.” That’s an extreme long-shot Greg.
“I’ll get this to Hodges.” And he leaves the room.
“Greg's got the coroner's inquest coming up. He's been under a lot of stress. Maybe you could be a little nicer to him.” Great, I don’t need Sara starting in on me too.
“I just want to find these boys.”
“Okay. Carl Fisher, apparently…” She shows me the plastic container with remnants of fruit punch inside. “…eats and drinks in the backseat of his car. I found it in a seat pocket.”
“Fruit punch?”
“Or a mixer.” Then she shows me the whiskey bottle cap. “Whiskey…I did not find the bottle.”
“And…so?” Give me something else here Sara.
“Mushrooms, picked off a cheese pizza. I found it stuffed between the cushions in the backseat of the car.” Then she shows me a napkin with mushrooms inside. “If you're an adult, and you don't like mushrooms, you don't order them.”
Then to top things off, Carl Fisher wanted me to sit down and do the interview with him rather then Brass. I walked into the interrogation room and sat down across from Carl Fisher as he began to talk to me.
“I’m a victim of abuse. My older brother. I was eight. He was much older…sixteen. He was jealous and angry. He wanted to destroy me. It’s not offered as an excuse, but it might explain why I’m here with you right now.”
I open a file folder and start showing Carl some photos and information inside. I need him to help me, even if he’s a pedophile.
“These are known child molesters living within our search radius.” He understands what I’m asking for without even asking.
“I met him in prison. He’s an environmental offender. Situational. Only molests members of his own family. Small world…he's in my support group. Your boys are too ripe for him. He likes toddlers. A couple of these guys are mysopeds…aggressive pedophiles. Some of their pleasures derive from physical violence. They like to molest, then beat, and sometimes kill their victims. But these guys aren’t killers.” I was really trying to hold myself together because I could tell he was trying to get a rise out of me. It was so hard to sit there and listen to the sickening details of a pedophile.
“Who said the boys were dead?” I’ve got him. You better start to sweat.
“They’ve been gone a long time.”
That’s when my phone beeps with a text message informing me that Lucas Hanson was found…dead.
“Bad news?” Carl asks, but I have to get up and out of that room, so I leave without another word.
We bring in the dead boy and start processing all the new evidence that will hopefully get us closer to proving Carl Fisher did this. And I’m back in interrogation with him again.
“Okay, then…what would you do if you were going to take those boys?” I ask him, not really wanting to hear the answer, but needing to.
“I would be studying them. Do they like sports? Comic books? Do they skip school? Have any friends? Good parents, or are they neglected? Unhappy? Angry?”
“And then?”
“What do you do when you like a woman? It’s a game of seduction. Once you know what they like, you make contact. You start slowly, play it cool. Especially with boys. It’s about building trust. Like you’re doing with me.”
I have to stand up to continue this. “Do you like mushrooms, Carl?”
“I like all the nightshade vegetables. Are you going to buy me dinner?”
“We found mushrooms in the backseat of your car.”
“Is this turning into an interrogation?”
I point at the door. “You’re free to leave.” But he doesn’t move. “On the night the boys disappeared, witnesses said they saw them sitting in a car with a man, eating pizza.”
“You take a date out to a nice steak dinner. Kids would rather have hamburgers or pizza.”
“Did you take the kids out for pizza?”
“No, I’m talking hypothetically. You must be desperate for a suspect, or a scapegoat. Do you need to give the press something to chew on?”
“We just found Lucas Hanson’s dead body. They’re chewing on that.”
“What about the other boy?”
“He’s still missing.”
“In my opinion, if someone killed one boy…he’d kill them both.”
Again I have to walk out and take a break, but more importantly, I need some extra strength medicine for this migraine. That’s when Brass joined me in the hallway.
“So, we’re working on a couple of Jason sightings. Camper in Red Rock spotted a kid who looks like Jason, so I sent Vega. And Sofia is on her way to Bullhead City, Arizona. A woman on a bus called the cops. She swears that Jason’s sitting next to her. That’s what I've got. Any luck with Carl Fisher?”
“I don’t know. He wants something from me…or he wouldn’t still be here.”
So apparently the woman on the bus was really sitting next to Jason Crowley and we were able to get to him and bring him back home. At least one of them turned out to be safe and sound. Now I’m finally ready to confront Carl with all our evidence and drag a confession out of the bastard if it’s the last thing I do. So again I’m exhausted, my head is again pounding, and I’m again sitting at the table with Carl Fisher.
“So, you think I got the boys drunk, and then killed them?” He asks me again.
“Not exactly. We found Jason Crowley. Alive. On a bus headed for Houston.”
“One of the lucky ones.”
“That bus ticket costs $95 for a child under twelve. Jason’s grandfather doesn’t keep any cash in the house, and he doesn’t give him an allowance, so where do you think Jason got the cash?”
“Maybe he stole it.”
“From whom?”
“I don't know. Why don't you ask him?” He’s breaking, slowly but surely.
“I will.”
“Do you get a lot of migraines, Gil? You should ask your doctor for a prescription of Sumatriptan. Works for me.”
“Captain Brass wants to put you in a lineup. If you’ll agree to it, then I think this will all be over with.”
“Then let’s do it.”
So we did a lineup. I waited out in the hallway while Sofia took Jason and his father in to do the lineup. I had high hopes that this would put the icing on the cake, but when Sofia stepped out of the room and shook her head no, I wanted to cry. I was beyond frustrated, angry, sad. I just wanted this to be over. Then Greg walked up to me and handed me a folder.
“The gas DNA panned out.” He said.
“It did?” I was pleasantly surprised.
“Yeah. Hodges and I traced the gas back to a service station near Fisher’s house. Station had security cameras. Got him filling up the night of the fire, so I went through the electronic receipts. All of them. Carl Fisher purchased 16 gallons.”
“And?”
“His Mercury Marquis only holds 14, so, where did he put the extra two gallons?”
“In a plastic gas can?”
“All which he paid for with his ATM.” He hands me the ATM receipt.
“Not the same as cash.”
“Thanks, Greg.” God thank you Greg. And I turn to walk back to the interrogation room.
“No one has told me why I’m being detained.” Is all he has to say as I reenter the room, but I’m in no mood for anymore small talk and I cut straight to the point.
“Arson is a felony. You torched your own car. We have video surveillance and electronic records that show you purchasing gas and a gas can.”
“I was trying to scam my insurance company. I needed the money.”
“You were destroying evidence of Lucas Hanson and Jason Crowley in your car. And I think you helped kill Lucas.” No more mister nice guy.
“No, I didn’t. And you’re not charging me for that, so I’m guessing Jason didn’t pick me out of the lineup.”
“He told us he knew you. Kill one, kill both, remember?”
“If I had killed Lucas, I would have killed Jason.” After a long sigh, he continues. “Lucas was looking for a father. His real one was an accident of biology. His mother was limited, always working. He was lonely. He found me…Did you know that most parents spend less than twenty minutes a day of quality time with their kids? Lucas was starved for attention. All his mother did was complain about his father and how he’d abandoned them. Do you know what that does to a child?”
“It doesn’t kill them.” But then he stops talking, so I continue. “Okay, Carl, just tell me what happened.”
Before I have to start begging, he begins to speak. “Lucas and Jason had gotten into it with Jason’s grandfather. He knocked the boys around. They ran to Lucas’ house, but couldn’t get in, so they came to me...I explained to them that hitting wasn’t okay…I said Jason needed to call his father and tell him what was going on.”
“Did you let them use your phone?”
“But they were too upset. When the grandfather pushed Lucas, he hit his head. I gave him a couple of aspirin.”
“Well, if he didn't want to call his mother, why didn’t you call her?”
“I couldn’t risk it. She might have turned me in.”
“So, instead, you took them for pizza?”
“I didn’t touch him. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“You gave him liquor.”
“I stopped and bought some whiskey before we picked up the pizza…I was nervous about them being in the car with me. I didn’t want to go back to prison.”
“And you wanted to get them drunk.”
“They…they just wanted to try it. I gave them a taste.”
“It was more than a taste, Carl. Lucas’ blood alcohol level was point one six. That’s twice the legal limit for an adult…Why didn’t you take them home?
“They didn’t want to go home. They wanted an adventure. I promised them a dollar for every golf ball they brought back…Lucas wasn’t feeling well, so he stayed in the car with me.”
“And you knew that Jason wanted money, so he could go to Texas and see his dad, so you bribed him in order to be alone with Lucas.”
“I didn’t molest him.”
“Who took his shirt off?”
“He was hot.”
“What were you gonna do to him once his shirt was off?”
“It was innocent. He wasn’t feeling well. He laid his head in my lap. I touched his hair. I didn’t want to…I loved him. I loved Lucas, and he loved me.”
“Is that what you think? Then why didn’t you help him? He told you he hit his head. He was in pain. He had a concussion, Carl. You must have known that. I’m sure he was dizzy, probably had no appetite. Maybe he was even slurring his words, but you didn’t care about that, because you wanted what you wanted…His brain was bleeding…Now, most kids won’t die from that, because someone who really loves them takes them to the hospital, but instead, you gave him alcohol and aspirin, a lethal combination for his head injury. It prevented his blood from clotting. You killed him, Carl…And you would have killed Jason, too, except he ran away from you and out of your reach.” I got you.
“You’re not listening to me. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I need you to believe me.”
“I don’t. You had choices. You made the wrong ones. And now this little boy is gone.”
Whether he confesses or not, we got him and I’m done. I meet Brass in front of his office.
“So I talked Voris into violating parole, and we’re adding the charges of negligent homicide. You’re not gonna see Carl for a long time.” He says. “Also, we, uh…we’ve arrested the grandpa, Terrance Crowley, for child abuse.”
“Everybody wins.” I say. “Except Lucas.”
With that I finally get to slip away and into Brass’s office because it’s the closest. I close the blinds and I still hear people yelling and arguing outside the room. I make my way over to the couch and lay down, close my eyes and try to still the throbbing of my head. I thought my head was going to explode. This case, this job, this life just got to me every once in a while and today was one of those days. I tried to relax a little, but my head pounded. I’m gonna need a long hot bath and one of Sara’s famous back massages tonight.
Sure enough, I whined my way into getting that massage. | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 22 – Double Cross
SARA:
Today we were investigating a woman found crucified in a church. I was in autopsy, gathering trace from the victim’s body. The door opened and Grissom walked in. I didn’t even have to look up, I knew it was him. He put on some gloves and approached the body to help me.
“Was there bougainvillea at the crime scene?” I ask him and he stops to think about it.
“Two shrubs at the entrance of the church. A row of four on the wall of the community center. Three bushes behind the rectory adjacent to the statue of St. Jude.” I turned and smiled at him. Could he read my mind?
“Did you anticipate that question in order to impress me with your powers of observation?”
“Memory's a gift.”
“Mmm. From whom?”
“Who do you think?”
“Well, I wouldn't necessarily call myself an atheist, but I am not sold on the notion of a higher power. However, I used to love the stories of the saints.”
“This job certainly challenges your faith.”
“Yes, it does, but I have science.”
“I believe we need a little of both.”
“Sometimes I think we made up God just to have someone to blame for our mistakes.” Grissom is unusually quiet and doesn’t answer me, he must be thinking hard about something. Then he quickly leaves the room.
“It’s just a theory.” As quickly as he left the room, he returns with a small wooden box in his hands. “Something I said?”
“No, dear.” Did he just call me “dear” at work? I’m gonna kill him.
“I didn't offend you, did I? Did I say something offensive to you as a Catholic?”
“I’m not really a Catholic anymore, you know. I suppose I practice a kind of secular Catholicism that involves ritualizing certain aspects of everyday life and imbuing them with a spiritual intensity they might not otherwise possess, but I don't want to put too fine a point on it.” He opens the wooden box and takes out rosary beads.
“And the rosary beads are a part of that.”
“This belonged to my mother.” He holds the beads up against the bruising around Jane Doe’s neck and it matched.
“Take a look at this pattern.” I lean in to look, picking up the camera and snapping photos of the beads and bruising.
“Five series of ten beads, each representing the ‘five mysteries’ separated by five ‘our father’ beads.”
“Who would strangle someone with a rosary?”
“Probably the same person who would crucify someone in a church.”
GRISSOM:
Today the team and I were forced to investigate the death of a woman found crucified in a church. Sara was in autopsy, gathering trace from the victim’s body as I walked in to assist her.
“Was there bougainvillea at the crime scene?” she asked me and I stop to think about it.
“Two shrubs at the entrance of the church. A row of four on the wall of the community center. Three bushes behind the rectory adjacent to the statue of St. Jude.” Impressed you, didn’t I?
“Did you anticipate that question in order to impress me with your powers of observation?”
“Memory's a gift.”
“Mmm. From whom?”
“Who do you think?”
“Well, I wouldn't necessarily call myself an atheist, but I am not sold on the notion of a higher power. However, I used to love the stories of the saints.”
“This job certainly challenges your faith.”
“Yes, it does, but I have science.” Ah, Sara is always about the science.
“I believe we need a little of both.”
“Sometimes I think we made up God just to have someone to blame for our mistakes.” I’m caught up in my thoughts and realize something as I quickly leave the room to head to my office.
“It’s just a theory.” I heard her call out after me as I left the room. In my office, I open my desk drawer and pick up a small wooden box and head back to autopsy to show Sara.
“Something I said?”
“No, dear.” Oops, I really didn’t mean to say “dear” at work. She’s gonna kill me.
“I didn't offend you, did I? Did I say something offensive to you as a Catholic?”
“I'm not really a Catholic anymore, you know. I suppose I practice a kind of secular Catholicism that involves ritualizing certain aspects of everyday life and imbuing them with a spiritual intensity they might not otherwise possess, but I don't want to put too fine a point on it.” I open the wooden box and take out rosary beads.
“And the rosary beads are a part of that.”
“This belonged to my mother.” I hold the beads up against the bruising around Jane Doe’s neck and it matched.
“Take a look at this pattern.” Sara leans in to look. She picks up the camera and snaps photos of the beads and bruising. Could she really stand any closer to me? If only we weren’t in the morgue in front of a dead body.
“Five series of ten beads, each representing the ‘five mysteries’ separated by five ‘our father’ beads.”
“Who would strangle someone with a rosary?”
“Probably the same person who would crucify someone in a church.” | |
|
| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 21 – Fannysmackin’
SARA:
I had known since the first day I met Greg that we’d hit it off and as we worked more and more together I realized he has developed a bit of a crush on me. Unfortunately there was only one man for me and for a long time he was emotional unavailable so I spent a lot of time with Greg and Nick going out to dinner or dancing at clubs. Long story short, Greg and I are very close. He’s like my little brother and I feel like I need to protect him more then anyone else.
When I heard Greg was attacked today I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to drop everything I was doing and run to see with my own eyes that he was alive. I had a horrible flashback of him and me after the lab explosion. God I remember it like it was just yesterday. I had made up my mind that morning that I’d ask Grissom out to dinner. I was nervous all day and when I finally made my move, I was walking down the hall and a wall of glass exploded next to me. Laying on the ground, unable to move, I looked over to see Greg also laying on the ground in much worse condition then me. Later Grissom had come to me outside on the curb to check up on me, to call me ‘Honey,’ and to later on reject my offer to dinner. No regrets though, right? Everything that has happened between us brought us to where we are today and I’m thankful for that.
So anyways, I arrived at Greg’s crime scene, jumped out of the car, and ran up to Sofia. “Hey,” she delicately greeted me. I see three bodies on the ground in the alley. Medics are attending to the beaten visitor and the attacker, but Greg is alone and unattended in the center.
“Why isn't there a medic on Greg?” I ask Sofia. Why the hell isn’t he being taken care of? What the hell are you doing? That’s what I wanted to say.
“He's been stabilized. Sara, he's going to be okay.” She’s trying to calm me down in her cold Sofia way. She walks away and I walk over toward Greg. I kneel down next to him. I can’t bear to see him like this. Greg’s eyes are closed and I place my hand on his head, lightly stroking his hair, trying to offer what little comfort I can.
“Sara…” Greg faintly struggles to say.
“I didn't think you could see me.”
“I can't…but I know that Sidle scent.”
“I'm going to take that as a compliment.” I look up and turn away as the tears start to come. I love Greg and though I’m overcome with pride for how he risked his life to save a stranger, I can’t help but be mad at him also for putting himself in such a dangerous situation. But Greg brings me back out of my thoughts and back to CSI mode.
“I scratched one of them.” His voice is raspy. I take his hand, careful to avoid touching his fingernails and destroying the evidence to catch the bastard who did this. “And you should check my vest. I think the same guy spit on me.” Look at him, almost beaten to death and still trying to catch the bad guy. This guy was born to be a CSI. “And one of their cars crashed into the Denali. I guarantee there's transfer on it.” Still he continues and I’m still speechless. I don’t want to let go of him. Greg almost died. “You should process the scene now. Me later.”
“I came here for you, Greg.” And I did.
Later, Grissom, Nick, Warrick, and I were all in the locker room packing up to go home after having finished the case. Warrick and Nick were debating about where kids go wrong in this world nowadays and I just had to throw in my opinion. “You know…it kinda sounds like you guys are blaming everybody but these kids. I mean you don’t get a buy just cause you grew up here or your parents are on drugs. Those kids are perfectly capable of telling the difference between a wild night out and beating somebody to death.”
“Truth is…” and here goes Grissom, “…a moral compass can only point you in the right direction, it can’t make you go there. Our culture preaches that you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything you do anymore.” Please don’t tell everyone about us. I’m not ashamed, I just don’t think it’s anyone’s business yet. “And unfortunately the city is built on the principal that there’s no such thing as guilt. Do whatever you want, we won’t tell. So without a conscience there’s nothing to stop you from killing someone. And evidently you don’t even have to feel bad about it.” He finished by looking straight at me.
GRISSOM:
Greg was attacked today while risking his life to save a total stranger. I admire him for that. If I were placed in his position, I can’t say that I’m sure how I would have reacted. I decided to go down to the hospital to visit Greg. It all brings back memories of Nicky buried alive and Jim laying in a hospital bed. I walk into his room and stop at the foot of his bed. Greg’s eyes are closed and he looks horrible.
“Greg?”
Greg’s one good left eye strains to open. “Grissom.”
“Just another day at the office, huh?”
“Well, at least I can see now. The guy they beat up…how is he?” Almost beaten to death and still worried about the wellbeing of others.
“He's gonna be fine.”
“What about the other guy? The guy I hit.”
“His name is Demitrius James. He's in surgery.”
“Is he, like, a gang banger or something?”
“Actually…he's a student at the university.”
“He gonna be okay?”
“I don't know.” Greg turns away and sighs. I wish I could offer more encouragement then that. “Has someone called your parents? We should let them know.”
“Mmph.” Uh oh.
“What's the matter?”
“They still think I'm in the lab.”
“Why do they think that?” I’m confused.
“When I was in high school…I never played any sports. No football, no basketball. Definitely no hockey.”
“I never would've guessed.”
“Well, it wasn't by choice. My mom wanted four kids. Ended up with only one. She always made sure I stayed close. If I got a nosebleed, she'd take me to the ER.”
“Well…now would be the time to come clean.”
“My mom's gonna freak.” He’s getting more upset.
“You tell her that you risked your life to save someone else's…and I think she'll be very proud of you.” I’m proud of you Greg. He’s like the son I never had, and I know he looks to me as a father figure. I feel so sad for Greg, in pain to see him like that, and seriously pissed off at the asshole who did this to Greg.
On a more positive note, I caught Sara doing this experiment in the lab today, kicking a dummy around, and holy mother of god, if I knew that there was no one else watching, I would have taken her right at that moment. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail, tank top on and sweat dripping down her body. Whoa, I’m getting turned on again. I stood in the doorway to watch a little longer then a boss would appropriately watch a coworker perform an experiment, but damn she was hot.
“Whoa…pick on somebody your own size.” I couldn’t help myself.
“Are you volunteering?” God help me. She wipes the sweat off herself with a towel and for a moment, I wish I was that towel. I have to put all my energy into trying to focus back on the case and the footprints she’s beginning to explain to me. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 15 - Rashomama
SARA:
Why a murder at a wedding? How ironic it is that we had to investigate a death at a wedding on our one year anniversary? I can’t even believe that it has been one year since our relationship began, right after the case at the mental hospital. And that’s just what Grissom needed to experience in order to scare him away from me…marriage. I hate weddings and this one was no different. The flowers were fake. How cheap is that? How can the love be real when the flowers aren’t? Then I had a few guys quick to hit on me while I tried to question their drunken asses. Oh and I forgot to mention that Nick’s truck got stolen while him, Greg and I were eating breakfast and of course it had all our evidence in it. At least it was fun hanging out with them all day trying to fix what we, I mean Nick, had screwed up.
GRISSOM:
Why a murder at a wedding? How ironic it is that we had to investigate a death at a wedding on our one year anniversary? I can’t even believe that it has been one year since our relationship began, right after the case at the mental hospital. A wedding is just what Sara needs to put more ideas in her head. We would never have a huge wedding like this. It would be something small and simple and – wait, what am I talking about? We are not getting married anytime soon. I mean I know that we will eventually and she is the one I will always love, but – stop Gil, stop thinking about it. See that is exactly why I hate weddings. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 14 - Poppin Tags
SARA:
“I’m pretty good at mouth to mouth,” the words poured out of Grissom’s mouth like it was everyday conversation. Well I’ll show him, two can play at this game.
“I know…you showed me last night,” I replied rather loudly back to him. We had both agreed to keep our relationship out of the lab, him more afraid of the consequences then I, but still he was the one throwing in little double meaning flirty remarks more and more around the lab. He turned back to me and I got that shocked Grissom look I was waiting for. I just raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.
“Well why don’t you just keep that mouth closed,” I said and turned to get back to my work. Payback is so sweet.
GRISSOM:
“I’m pretty good at mouth to mouth,” the words were out of my mouth before I had time to stop them. I had become so comfortable around Sara, especially at home, but now it was spilling into work. I’ll be the first to admit that I have slipped several times at work, saying things that I should only say in the privacy of our home, but Sara just has that effect on me. She makes me forget where I am or what I’m doing as soon as she comes into my view. We were walking down the hallway, brushing up against each other’s arms when I had mentioned the mouth to mouth.
When she fought back with an “I know…you showed me last night,” I thought I’d pass out right there. There was no doubt she had said it loud enough for several ears to hear. I stopped and turned to face her and she wore an expression that simply read, ‘this means war.’ Oh no…there were going to be repercussions for my small remark and I could only imagine what I was in store for. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 13 - I Like To Watch
SARA:
Hey I have seen the ER episode where the film crew comes in and sets up hidden cameras and catches many things that should have been left private…Doug and Carol together and Dr. Greene confessing his inexperience in the bedroom with any woman besides his wife.
Anyways, so Grissom and I had to be extra careful that day in front of all the cameras. I didn’t even want to have a view of Grissom, afraid the camera would pick up on a look of desire or a loving glance and interpret it the wrong way…well, actually the right way, but never mind.
Hidden from the cameras, Catherine, Grissom, and I met to try and relate all of our victims. We had nothing. “Sure we do…they both have feet,” Grissom had walked into the room and I knew I was in trouble, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. I hadn’t seen him all day and it was killing me. I was so sure Catherine would catch on to the tension in the room, but I guess she has just gotten so used to it that she doesn’t even think twice about it anymore.
Grissom was really irritated at the end of the day and we got in a huge debate over reality tv and crime shows. I personally love them…Survivor, Fear Factor, The Amazing Race, CSI New York, and even CSI Miami even though the main character H is the most horribly annoying person on television. And then there’s Danny Messer on CSI New York, who I am in love with…he is so yummy. My new favorite show has got to be Bones. The sexual tension between Bones and Booth is unbelievable. They drive me crazy. God I wish they would hook up already and put me out of my misery. Then there’s NCIS, Crossing Jordan, Cold Case, Law and Order SVU…wow I guess Grissom is right, there are too many crime shows on tv.
GRISSOM:
Hidden from the cameras, Catherine, Sara, and I met to try and relate all of our victims. I had walked into the room and I knew I was in trouble, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Sara. She looked as though she would jump me right there. I hadn’t seen her all day, so I tried to focus on what I was saying while I drank her in. You would think that by living with her I would get tired of seeing her all the time, but that is impossible. On an average day, Sara can be found in my office more then anywhere else, but with these damn cameras we didn’t want to risk anything getting caught on tape.
Television is one of the few things that Sara and I disagree about. She loves it and I hate it. Next to me, I’m sure she loves her Tivo the most. That day we had a camera crew follow us around all day and it was so incredibly annoying and I’m afraid I took it out on Sara that night while she was trying to watch another one of those crime shows in New York. She told me to shut up because Danny had just taken his shirt off and that we could argue about it later. But it just turned out to be a dumb bickering that lead to us in bed, like many of our arguments. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 12 - Pirates Of The Third Reich
SARA:
I went by Grissom’s office on my way to my locker to grab my stuff and head home, but he wasn’t in there. I figured he would want to leave early after the case with Lady Heather.
We had been talking about past lovers one day a while back and I had brought up her name, out of curiosity. I had heard the rumors, and surprisingly, he told me everything. I had broke down practically all his walls and he was now comfortable enough to talk with me about anything I wanted to know. Anyways, he said he had kissed her but hadn’t taken it past that. He felt like she wanted more, but it just didn’t feel right to him. He relates to Lady Heather somehow and they had remained friends, but stayed unknown to others for reasons I can understand.
My mind was buzzing when I finally made it to my locker, opening it, I found a note from Grissom. “EYE love you. Sorry I had to cancel lunch. SEE you at home.” Oh he’s just hilarious. We had a bit of an eye ball situation today, an eye ball transplant and a psycho pirate. And Grissom and I were supposed to meet for lunch, but Lady Heather intercepted him on his way to his car to turn over some evidence she had obtained by sleeping with our suspect. I really don’t want to get into details.
GRISSOM:
Before seeing her walking from the morgue today, I hadn’t seen Heather in a while. We had lost touch with each other about a year ago. Something changed inside her after her daughter was killed. She is not the same woman I used to know.
I was heading out to my car to go meet Sara for lunch and Heather was waiting by my car for me. She slept with our suspect in order to get a sperm sample. That is beyond fathomable for me to comprehend. She said, “The rage was greater then the repulsion.” I looked at her shocked and yet it was also heartbreaking what a mother would do for justice for her daughter. So I just took the sample back to the lab and had to cancel lunch with Sara.
It was a rough day, I needed some air, needed to get out of the stuffy office early. Sara was busy in the lab, I’d heard about her eyeball incident, so I left her a quick note and headed home. How great it is to know Sara is on her way home so that I won’t be alone after a day like today. Sitting out on our back porch, Sara finally arrived home and joined me. Looking over at her, we looked like an old married couple sitting in their rocking chairs on their back porch.
I hadn’t really talked to Sara much about Lady Heather. I mean nothing had ever happened between us, it almost did, but after a kiss, I had stopped myself. Heather was able to see past my façade and was someone so incredible easy to talk to. We had become good friends after we had met on that case, but no one knew much about it because I feared they would think our relationship was inappropriate, considering her profession. And I’m not like Catherine, it is hard for me to start a relationship with someone we just investigated. I would never love Heather like I loved Sara, but she loved her daughter so much and it pained me to see her hurting. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 11 - Kiss-Kiss, Bye-Bye
SARA:
Grissom was standing in our bathroom this morning staring at his reflection. I walked in, rubbing my hands along his back, he asks, “You think I should dye me hair?”
I can’t get enough of this man and I wouldn’t change a thing, “I think grey hair is very attractive.” One thing lead to another against the bathroom sink, Grissom assaulting my neck with his lips and that is why I had to wear the scarf to work today.
Later on in the day Grissom and I walked into Hodges’ lab and caught him trying to cover up his grey hair with a black magic marker. Yeah I know, I really don’t understand what is going thru that man’s head sometimes.
Grissom stood close to me, I used to be able to feel the sexual tension flowing between us, static in the air, but now it is only love that surrounded us and we are the only ones who realize it.
“Hodges, didn’t you know that grey hair can be very attractive,” I say, feeling Grissom eyes on me, silently warning me to keep what happens in our bathroom to ourselves. Do you think that Hodges caught on to the subtle hints I was throwing Grissom’s way. No, what am I thinking…it’s Hodges…he wouldn’t catch on if I were to push Grissom onto the lab table and have my way with him.
GRISSOM:
I stood in our bathroom this morning contemplating my reflection, wondering how someone as young and beautiful as Sara could ever fall in love with a man that looked so old. All my fears are relieved though as she walks into the bathroom unable to keep her hands off me even after a long night of love making.
“I think grey hair is very attractive,” she whispered seductively to me as I take her right there against the bathroom counter. She is mad at me later when she is forced to wear a scarf around her neck to hide the hickeys.
Later on that day Sara and I strolled into Hodges’ lab and caught him trying to hide his grey hair by coloring it with a black marker. How many times had I thought about dying my own hair to look younger?
Sara stands extremely close to me. Several months ago I would have been so overwhelmed with her proximity to me I would have taken a step away in order to control myself, but now I know I can stand as close as I wished because we would be even unbelievably closer later on that evening in our bed.
“Hodges, didn’t you know that grey hair can be very attractive,” Sara said it out loud and obviously directed at me. It was her turn to bring our personal lives up in the lab’s conversations and without anyone even knowing it.
Sitting snuggled together on the couch that evening with Sara, she was watching tv and I was reading Lois O’Neill’s book Greg had let me borrow. Turning the pages back to the beginning where she had signed it for Greg, I read the words again, ‘The best is yet to come.’ Looking down at Sara, I wondered how it could really get any better then this. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 20 – Toe Tags
SARA:
The Nevada chainsaw massacre is what Grissom called it. Life imitates art right in the garage of a Las Vegas resident. Grissom began photographing and I checked for fingerprints on the door. “Ok…you first,” Grissom wanted me to open with my idea of how this crime went down.
“Alright…kicked in door, one bloody chainsaw, two dead bodies. Someone broke in, cut up the two guys, left the murder weapon, and split.”
“What about all this mess? The furniture and appliances?”
“Some of the furniture looks new, some of it’s cut up, some of it’s not. Maybe they were cutting it up when the assailant came in.”
“It’s a workable theory for now.”
I look around to make sure no one is near enough to hear what I’m about to say. “You know what this reminds me of? First time we met.” Grissom looks up at me quickly from his camera, silently trying to recall that time I am about to describe. “San Francisco. Your lecture. Double murder in a garage. I heard you were a little dull as a speaker, but you can’t rely on your first blush.” I’m trying to get a rise out of him at our crime scene. “That was the uh…” I deliberately lick my lips for him. “…subject of your talk.”
“I believe I said first opinions are crucial but if the evidence changes, so must the theory.”
“Exactly,” I respond just as Jim walks in.
Later on, it was reconstruction time. Grissom was setting up our first dummy as I rolled in a second. “Where do you want him?” I ask.
“Put him under the Lou Beltrain spatter…and load him up.” We both spray our dummies with blue paint to simulate blood. Grissom picks up the chainsaw, turns it on, and lets it ‘cut’ the dummy’s arm, creating a paint spatter across the ceiling, but it doesn’t match the initial blood pattern, so he turns the chainsaw back off.
“Blue test paint is not lining up with the red known spatter.” I have to state the obvious.
“The body’s in the correct relative position, but the angle’s off.”
“What could throw the angle off?”
“I don’t know, but it’s very awkward to try and line this up.” Grissom says as he struggles with handling the chainsaw until I just can’t take it much longer. This is going to take a woman to demonstrate, isn’t it?
“What if you line it up switching hands, like this?” I ask, starting up the chainsaw myself and mimicking Grissom’s previous ‘cut’ on the dummy, but this time, using my left hand and my spatter pattern matches the red known spatter this time. “Ray Gaynor’s killer was left handed.”
“Lou Beltrain wore his watch on his right wrist…I bet he was left handed.”
“So Lou could’ve killed Ray, cut off his arm, but who killed Lou?”
We were standing side my side thru the demonstration, but now Grissom moves to stand in front of me. “Doc Robbins said that the cuts on Lou’s body were made when the chain was traveling upwards.”
“Well if I attacked you…” I say as I move the chainsaw toward Grissom and his eyes got really wide, like he was scared or something, like I would really hurt him with a chainsaw. “…the chain would be traveling downwards when held normally by a left or a right handed person.”
“Which means the top of the chain had to have been facing him.”
“The way that this works is if Lou was holding the saw.” I step back a bit to demonstrate while I explain. “The chain was dull, from cutting up his wife’s things. The wife told Brass that he wasn’t very handy.”
“An inexperienced left handed operator with a dull chainsaw certainly increases the risk for injury.”
“Kick back.”
GRISSOM:
The Nevada chainsaw massacre is what I called it. Life imitates art right in the garage of a Las Vegas resident. At our gruesome crime scene, I began photographing and Sara checked for fingerprints on the door. “Ok…you first,” I asked Sara. I love watching her work and think up theories for the crimes.
“Alright…kicked in door, one bloody chainsaw, two dead bodies. Someone broke in, cut up the two guys, left the murder weapon, and split.”
“What about all this mess? The furniture and appliances?”
“Some of the furniture looks new, some of it’s cut up, some of it’s not. Maybe they were cutting it up when the assailant came in.
I’m doubtful, but encouraging “It’s a workable theory for now.”
Then Sara is silent for a few seconds, but I can hear her mind hard at work. “You know what this reminds me of? First time we met.” I quickly look up from my camera and up at her, silently trying to recall the time she is about to describe. “San Francisco. Your lecture. Double murder in a garage. I heard you were a little dull as a speaker…” Really? “…but you can’t rely on your first blush.” Oh she’s good, trying to get me worked up at a crime scene. “That was the uh…” She licks her lips and I’m turned on even more. “…subject of your talk.”
“I believe I said first opinions are crucial but if the evidence changes, so must the theory.” I correct her.
“Exactly.” Thankfully Jim walked in then, interrupting us before it turned inappropriate.
Later on, one of my favorite parts of the job, it’s reconstruction time. I’m setting up our first dummy while Sara rolls in a second.
“Where do you want him?”
“Put him under the Lou Beltrain spatter…and load him up.” I instruct her and we both spray our dummies with blue paint to simulate blood. I pick up the chainsaw, turn it on, and “cut” the dummies arm, creating a paint spatter across the ceiling, but it doesn’t match the initial blood pattern, so I turn it off.
“Blue test paint is not lining up with the red known spatter.” Thank you Captain Obvious.
“The body’s in the correct relative position, but the angle’s off.”
“What could throw the angle off?”
“I don’t know, but it’s very awkward to try and line this up.” But I’m struggling with handling the chainsaw until Sara steps up and takes it from me, completely turning me on when she takes control. What is she wearing under her jumpsuit? My mind is beginning to wonder until I hear her ‘cutting’ into the dummy like I had, but with her left hand instead. She’s brilliant, why didn’t I think of that? There’s one of the many reasons I love her.
“Lou Beltrain wore his watch on his right wrist…I bet he was left handed.” I added.
“So Lou could’ve killed Ray, cut off his arm, but who killed Lou?” Sara asked and I move to stand in front of Sara, getting a great view down her jumpsuit. Focus Grissom, focus.
“Doc Robbins said that the cuts on Lou’s body were made when the chain was traveling upwards.”
“Well if I attacked you…” Sara moved the chainsaw toward me and scared the shit out of me. Be careful with that thing. “…the chain would be traveling downwards when held normally by a left or a right handed person.”
“Which means the top of the chain had to have been facing him.”
“The way that this works is if Lou was holding the saw.” Sara steps back a bit to demonstrate while she explains. “The chain was dull, from cutting up his wife’s things. The wife told Brass that he wasn’t very handy.”
“An inexperienced left handed operator with a dull chainsaw certainly increases the risk for injury.”
“Kick back.” I need a cold shower now. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 19 – Built To Kill
SARA:
It’s not like I am trying to change Grissom or anything, I’m just…upgrading him a little. I finally got him to go away on a wonderful Hawaiian vacation with me, but my next task was a redecorating adventure with him, which I knew he would hate, but I knew I could make it fun. We were painting our spare bedroom and we got into a little bit of a paint fight which was totally Grissom’s fault. A paint fight turned into sex in the middle of the floor which lead to more fun in the shower, trying to clean all the paint off our bodies, but Grissom couldn’t get it out of his beard. So, again, not trying to change him or anything, I suggested just shaving it off, because I mean we were late to work and I do like him better without the beard.
So our next case was the death of a rock star named Izzy Delancy, but this wasn’t going to be just a usual investigation by the looks of the diorama on the kitchen counter, which was an exact replica of the real crime scene, real blood and all. It was actually a little disturbing, I mean we were looking at more of a perfectionist then even Grissom.
“I think Malibu Barbie did it,” I said to Grissom. I was so glad that we were working this case together.
“Well, then there’s a lot more to Barbie than just a pretty face, cause this is a perfect half-inch scale model of the room. And assuming that the killer is the same person who made the miniature…
“…it would of taken weeks,” I finish Grissom’s sentence. “Maybe even months to create with this kind of detail.” I was actually a little impressed by our killer. “Certainly qualifies as premeditation.”
“Yeah, but take a look at the blood pools.”
“They’re identical.”
“There’s no predicting a blood pool; it’s inherently random.”
“Killer must have stuck around to match the scene.” That takes some kind of patience, something I lack, well I guess not, when it comes to Grissom.
Then Grissom takes a swab of the blood in the miniature and reveals, “its real blood.”
“That is a level of obsession that gives even you a run for your money,” I say to Grissom as I browse through the gold records on the wall, “If Dusty Fell, Izzy Delancy.”
“It’s his biggest hit.”
“I have never heard of him.”
“Probably before your time.” Here we go again with the age difference. I refuse to argue with him.
“I’ll download it.”
Back at work, Warrick and I were in a layout room reviewing our evidence when Grissom walked in. “I gotcha a veggie burger,” he stated as he handed me my lunch practically over top of Warrick.
“Thanks,” was all I could say, while I tried to hide my blush. Why doesn’t he just kiss me right in front of Warrick? I’ve gotten Grissom to eat healthier and even become a vegetarian. Again, I’m not trying to change him. We haven’t had to do raw hamburger meat experiments or late night pig experiments in a while and hopefully never again. But I’ve gotta say staying up all night with Grissom and that pig was a little bit romantic, I mean in a Grissom and Sara kind of way.
Oh, and I think that maybe Ecklie might be onto Grissom and me. He came into the lab while we were working some evidence on our victim Izzy Delancy and the miniature crime scene, and after a quick spat with Grissom, Ecklie turned to me and asked my opinion. I had to agree with Grissom and not just because I was sleeping with him. “Of course you do,” was all he said before leaving the room. I looked at Grissom and I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. Does he know about us?
Well, you know I very rarely ever want to talk about Catherine because, well, I just don’t, but these past few days have really kicked her ass and I kinda feel a little bad for her. This morning she called me at my crime scene, said it was really important and she sounded a bit distressed, so you know me, sometimes I’m just too nice.
So I call Greg to take over for me and I go to meet with Catherine. Apparently she and Nicky went out to a club last night and someone slipped something into her drink and she thought she may have been raped. So instead of coming straight to me for help, she performs her own rape kit in the hotel room on her own. I know, sometimes she just doesn’t act like a CSI does she? So, I ran all the samples and came up empty.
Then she was driving Lindsey home from dance rehearsal and they were hit on purpose and someone kidnapped Lindsey. After confronting Sam Braun, her father, they eventually found Lindsey safe and sound, but the day didn’t end before someone shot and killed Sam. Yeah, pretty rough for Catherine, huh?
Anyways, we didn’t find out who our miniature crime scene killer was either. You like that? That’s what Greg named him or her, the miniature crime scene killer. Well, Grissom was really bothered by the whole case and I practically had to drag him home today and away from the miniature so he wouldn’t obsess over it all night.
GRISSOM:
So we got back from our incredible, unforgettable Hawaiian vacation and I felt like a new man. Sara must have thought I was too, because she suggested doing some redecorating, not exactly something I was thrilled about. We were painting our spare bedroom and we got into a little bit of a paint fight which was all her fault. A paint fight turned into sex in the middle of the floor which lead to more fun in the shower, trying to clean all the paint off our bodies, but I couldn’t get it out of my beard. So I was overdue for a change and we were running late for work so I just shaved it off. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact the Sara likes me better without the beard.
So our next case sounded extremely interesting, so I paired Sara with myself. I was actually impressed at the crime scene to discover a diorama which was an exact replica of the real life crime scene we were in the middle of investigating. The victim was rock star Izzy Delancy, too old for Sara to even remember. I couldn’t get over the extreme detail of the miniature crime scene, I mean down to the bottle of bleach in the trash can.
If there’s one thing I just love with Sara, it’s surprising her and today I was game. I had got her lunch and I was going to give it to her right in front of Warrick. I strolled into the layout room where they were, “I gotcha a veggie burger,” I said, handing her lunch.
“Thanks,” was all she could say, trying not to smile too much, but she was starting to blush.
“What about me?” Warrick asked.
“I didn’t know you were here, so sorry.” I know I’m such a liar.
“Where’s the love?” Mine is right in front of you, eating a veggie burger.
Later in the lab, Sara joins me, “Find something?” she asks.
“No…no prints, no hairs, no fibers. Materials are common hobby shop issue, but the blood matches the victim’s.”
“You interested in motive? Sophia just spent the last two hours with the sheriff, the head of the Olympia casino and a couple a dozen lawyers. Apparently Izzy Delancy owned the rights his own songs. The Olympia was negotiating to purchase them for a medley show based on his music. Izzy never got a chance to sign the contracts. Dead rock star, nut job family, and a company hungry for the next Mama Mia.”
“Who inherits the music rights?”
“The son Sven, but he’s a minor, so the rights would be controlled by his mother Dusty.”
“It’s illegal to benefit from a criminal act. If either one of them committed the murder…”
“Then the rights would go to Izzy’s current wife Madeline.”
“Well, that’s motive for her, but how does this fit in?” I ask, pointing back at the miniature crime scene creation. Then my best friend Conrad Ecklie walks in. “Maybe we should release it to the media,” he suggests, “Someone might have unwittingly made a component of the miniature and if they came forward, that could help us.”
“What’s the point in gratifying the murderer with publicity?” I never agree with much Ecklie says.
“Izzy Delancy is famous, the press wants answers.” He presses further.
“Don’t we all.” I press back.
He turns to Sara and asks, “Sara, this is your case too, what do you think?”
“I uh…agree with Grissom.”
“Of course you do.” He turns and walks away leaving me stunned and wondering if he knows about Sara and me.
Ok, so this miniature crime scene killer is still on the loose and it’s really frustrating me, but at the same time intrigues me. I kinda want to try and build my own. Is that weird? | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 18 – Way To Go
SARA:
Here we go again, one of our own seriously injured and in the hospital. Jim was shot in the chest while trying to apprehend our suspect and saving a hostage. His heroics sent him to the hospital hanging on for dear life. There are few things Grissom and I haven’t discussed since we began our relationship, but being put in the situation Grissom was placed in with Brass, we were forced to talk about it. Jim had named Grissom his power of attorney and even though Grissom was floored by the respect Brass was showing him by putting his life in Grissom’s hand, Grissom didn’t want it. He didn’t want the responsibility and he didn’t want to have to make that life altering decision for Jim. That’s the reason we had never talked about it. Grissom never wanted to think about the fact that he might lose me after so very long he was finally able to have me.
But the night after Grissom had made the decision for the hospital to go ahead with Jim’s surgery, he and I sat down and wrote out our wills and power of attorneys for each other. Grissom shocked me by explaining how if something were to happen to him before we got married, he wanted everything taken care of because after we’re married it wouldn’t be so much of a hassle. Just hearing those words come out of his mouth turned my insides upside down. I was so happy and sad and mad and I had emotions colliding within me from this whole experience and something set me off and I practically attacked Grissom, wanting to hold him and love him with all my heart. So we had to take a small break from all our paperwork to have sex on the kitchen floor because I couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.
I was so worried about Jim and also worried about Grissom. That night, after our escapade in the kitchen and all the serious stuff was taken care of we relaxed in bed together and I let myself cry for the first time since I’d heard about Jim. Grissom just held me tight as I drifted off to sleep, but I couldn’t help but notice him quietly crying too.
We were all at the hospital the next day when Jim was awake and slowly recovering in the hospital. Grissom went in to stand by his bed, while Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Greg and I watched from outside the room and rejoiced when Jim turned to wave at us. I was so emotionally drained and I knew Grissom was probably worse then me, so I decided at that moment, Grissom and I were going away on a long vacation away from all this.
I decided on Hawaii because I had never gone before and I needed someplace warm, with lots of beach and sun and Grissom. I proposed my plans to Grissom that evening and he was quick to agree. He needed to clear his head and relax more then anything right now. But he was much more excited then I would have expected. I mean he’d be off work for two weeks and his life was his work. Unfortunately he dug out this god ugly Hawaiian shirt from his closet and decided to wear it to bed to celebrate our upcoming trip.
I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed to go to sleep, I mean get into bed, because I didn’t really know how soon I’d actually be sleeping, but anyways, Grissom began on one of his rambles. I could tell this whole Jim thing really got him thinking about dying.
“I don't know…” he began, “Most people want to die in their sleep, I suppose. Never know that it”s happening. Like a crime scene. Surprise, you”re dead. I’d prefer to know in advance that I was going to die. I’d like to be diagnosed with cancer, actually. Have some time to prepare. Go back to the rain forest one more time. Re-read ‘Moby Dick.’ Possibly enter an international chess tournament.” I had to get him to stop, he was depressing me on the night before we left for our first vacation together. “At least have enough time to say good-bye to the people I love.” He finished as I had made my way out of the bathroom in only a robe. I knelt down next to the bed, my arms reaching out along the bed cover. I shake my head, smiling, all I can say is, “I’m not ready to say good-bye.” He gives me a quick Grissom smile that has always turned me on, then he pulls me onto the bed with him. We make love and then find it hard to fall asleep, both of us too excited about leaving for Hawaii tomorrow.
GRISSOM:
I can’t even think, my head and heart are a swirl of emotions right now and I don’t now what I’m doing. In the span of 2 days, Jim was shot in the chest, sending him to the hospital and giving me the responsibility of holding Jim’s life in my hands and making the decision of sending him thru surgery or not. Then Sara and I had the one conversation I avoid more then marriage…our wills, power of attorney and what would take place if something happened to one of us. I never even want to think about losing Sara, let alone write it all out of paper. But something I had said in the middle of all the paperwork sent Sara into some kind of sex frenzy and we made love on our kitchen floor pouring all the stress and emotions from the day into each other…and it was good.
The next day I was sitting in my office looking through a book pertaining to our corset man case. I was trying to focus all my energy into this case to keep from worrying about Jim. Sara walked in carrying a file folder and asked, “How's it going? You okay?” She puts a hand on my shoulder and I look up at her.
“I'm okay.” I just want to hold her and wait until Jim is out of surgery and all this is over. She looks back at me for a long moment, studying me, assessing me, reading me. Then she turns to look at the book I’m flipping through.
“That's a…man in a corset,” she observes.
“Corset-training. A venerable practice.”
“Maybe for Scarlett O'Hara. Since when was it equal opportunity?”
“In Victorian times, it was considered a staple of masculine attire. Students in British boarding schools were encouraged to lose an inch a year from the time they were fourteen on.” Sara takes a breath and sits down.
“I guess I should feel comforted that sadistic ideas of beauty aren't restricted to women.”
“Mmm…It's called a wasp-waist, which is revealing. A wasp is from the insect group hymenoptera. The notion of hymen indicates virginity. In predacious wasps, the genitalia no longer function as a reproductive organ. It's used as a stinger.”
“Go in for sex and get stung. Pretty much every man's fear.”
“Mmm.” Ain’t that the truth. “The victim was shot, body dumped, clothes burned.” She gives me the file folder.
“The corset, too. The bone fragments that Nick found at the crime scene were whalebone, which is what they used to make corsets out of. Where did you learn so much about corsets?”
“I have my sources.” A week doesn’t go by without the phrase, ‘State your source,’ being uttered in our house.
Later we are out at the battlefield, looking for evidence and dueling with our cameras. Sara and I are back to back. Sara lifts up her camera and asks, “Ready?”
I lift up my camera. “Ready.” We start counting our paces as they head in opposite directions.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. We both whirl around. Sara snaps her camera first. I snap my camera next. She won the duel. We grin at each other, I’m so glad that we can go back to old Grissom and Sara flirting and banter at work. Of course it does help that we are sleeping together now.
In our bedroom that night, after Jim is in the clear health wise and our case is solved. Both Sara and I took off two weeks together to go on vacation and still no one is suspicious at work. I’m lounging on our bed in my Hawaiian shirt I had dug out of my closet, ready for our first vacation away together, waiting for Sara to get out of the bathroom and join me. Jim’s whole situation had really got me thinking about death and what I want for Sara if something happened to me. The next day I wake up could be my last, I have finally come to realize. But I’m happy now, happier then I’ve ever been, waiting here on Sara and my shared bed, in our shared bedroom, in our shared apartment.
“I don't know. Most people want to die in their sleep, I suppose. Never know that it's happening.” I begin to speak to Sara still in the bathroom. “Like a crime scene. Surprise, you’re dead. I’d prefer to know in advance that I was going to die. I’d like to be diagnosed with cancer, actually. Have some time to prepare. Go back to the rain forest one more time. Re-read ‘Moby Dick.’ Possibly enter an international chess tournament.” And here comes Sara. All I see first are her long slender gorgeous legs peaking out from a very thin white knee-length robe, as she enters the bedroom. She heads towards me and smiles. “At least have enough time to say good-bye to the people I love.” She kneels down next to the bed, her arms reaching out along the bed cover. She shakes her head, still smiling, as she responds.
“I'm not ready to say good-bye.” I can’t help but smile back at her before pulling her into bed with me. We make love and then find it hard to fall asleep, both of us too excited about leaving for Hawaii tomorrow. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 17 – Bang-Bang
SARA:
Warrick and I were in the living room of the Cutler residence after Grissom and Doc Robbins had left. I was looking at the blood-spattered wedding photo on the counter. The longer I’m with Grissom, the more I can see myself actually getting married one day. I turn to look at Warrick, already a married man and ask, “Was it the happiest day of your life?”
“Me and Tina? Happened so fast. Time will tell. Why don't you take a look at this phone here and tell me what you think.”
Later I was working in the layout room with various photos spread out on the table in front of me when Doc Robbins walked in. “Hey, Sara, you're working the office shooting, right?”
“Yeah, and the dead wife,” I respond as he hands me a file folder.
“Autopsy reports on the two DB's. Grissom wanted them ASAP, and I was in the neighborhood.”
“Thanks. I'll pass them along.” I pick up the folder and look through it. Why would he assume I’d see Grissom? Does he suspect something? We should just go public and get it over with, so I can stop stressing out about hiding our relationship. Everyone is going to find out sooner or later and I’m beginning to think that sooner would be a better idea.
Later, Grissom and I were reexamining Willie Cutler’s bloody shirt. I swabbed the edge of the shirt while Grissom watched me test the sample and explain the results, “Sodium rhodizonate is negative. No lead in the tear. No bullet.”
“So, Willie tried to make it look like he was shot. Grabs a ball point pin, drags it across his ribs.” He looks down and notices something on the shirt sleeve.
“Did I miss something?” I ask, because it’s impossible that I missed something and what’s worse is that Grissom found it with me standing right next to him.
“Don't know. We'll find out.” That’s all he says before leaving the room. I hate when he does that, leads me on, teases me, I’ll get him back.
GRISSOM:
Jim, Warrick, Doc Robbins, David and I were in the living room of the Cutler residence at our crime scene. Brass begins to introduce us to the victim. “Janice Cutler. Shot in the mouth…Single boy's the only smart one.”
Doc responds to Brass’s comment with, “Judy and I deal with our marital problems a little differently…counseling, separate vacations once a year…She's never pulled a gun on me yet.” I wonder if Sara would ever pull a gun on me. I mean, she was pretty close that one time I ruined all her white t-shirts when I threw, accidentally threw, my red t-shirt into the laundry with them. Or that time I snuck up on her in the bedroom when I came home from work early and hadn’t realized she was still wearing her gun. Or—.
“I got a shell casing. Nine millimeter.” Warrick snaps me out of my moment of reminiscing. Then I notice the blood-spattered wedding photo on the counter. For a second I see Sara and I stand there at our wedding. The more I’m with Sara, the more I feel I want to get married. “Where's the husband?” I ask.
“Well, there was no car in the garage. We can broadcast out for him,” Brass answered.
“There's no other signs of disturbance in here. What about the rest of the house...How many domestics have you seen where someone got shot in the face and nothing else was disturbed?” I’m trying to process all this.
“What are you thinking?” Warrick asks me.
“That you married people take things too personally,” I answer, silently hoping that someday I will be one of those “married people.”
Later on, back at the lab in the morgue with Doc Robbins, he unfortunately bought up the topic of marriage once again, asking me, “Gil…have you ever even been close to getting married?” You have no idea Doc. You have no idea. I’ve never even been in love until Sara came into my life.
“Once…” I begin, “…when I was younger. Her name was Nicole Daley. I asked her to marry me. We were classmates. She liked bugs, too. I gave her my grandmother's ring, but my mother made me get it back…Second grade.” Sara likes bugs too, but more so because of me. And we weren’t classmates, but I was her teacher. And my grandmother’s ring…she’ll get it one day and I won’t take it back.
Later, Sara and I were reexamining Willie Cutler’s bloody shirt. Sara swabbed the edge of the shirt while I watch her test the sample and reveal the results, “Sodium rhodizonate is negative. No lead in the tear. No bullet.”
“So, Willie tried to make it look like he was shot. Grabs a ball point pin, drags it across his ribs.” I looked down and noticed the blood on the shirt sleeve.
“Did I miss something?” Sara asks, she’s always worried about impressing me or disappointing me, which is impossible.
I love leading her on, teasing her, and she hates it, “Don't know. We'll find out.”
I left Sara and went to the DNA lab to test the shirt. I cut a piece of material off of the shirt sleeve the placed it onto a slide. One of our lab techs, Wendy, walked in. “Well, hey. What are you doing?”
“Serology.” Please don’t make me explain it to you, I thought.
“Serology? Now, I read about that in my history of forensic science classes. So, what exactly is it you're trying to do?” Was she flirting with me? Is she really that interested?
“Lattes crust method for determining blood type.”
“You know, for you, I clear the decks. I mean, I can just rush your samples through DNA.” Ok, that’s a little flirty, hello, I am your boss.
“I need it faster than DNA. And I don't need a full profile anyway, just ABO type.”
“You mind if I stick around and watch?” Yes I do.
“Don't you have something better to do?”
“Yeah, I do, but some guy's using my lab.” I drop a few drops of liquid onto the slide of material.
“Okay, now as I recall, the reagents have to be fresh. Right? So, where did you get those?”
“I keep some in my fridge for emergencies.” So I’ve revealed my secret, are we done?
“You got anything else in there? Bottle of tequila, perhaps? Severed head?”
“I don't keep tequila.” Around Sara at least. I put my sample into the machine and wait to retrieve the results. | |
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| Behind The Scenes
By: supercsi4
Chapter 16 - Time Of Your Death
SARA:
We were playing out the fantasy night the victim had planned for him. “Any guy would help a beautiful woman in distress, right?” Nick suggested.
“Some men are intimidated by beauty. Or fear rejection.” The word ‘beauty’ from Grissom’s mouth jumped out at me, reminding me of our conversation ages ago at the hockey rink. “Since when are you interested in beauty?” I had asked him. And as innocently as ever he had replied, “Since I met you,” just like it was a normal part of everyday conversation.
Back to the current case, I continued, “According to the script, ‘your employment ends with the goodnight kiss. You are not requested to perform, nor compensated for any activity you initiate beyond this point. Should nature take its course, you are on your own.’” Should nature take its course, you are on your own. You couldn’t describe me and Grissom’s first date any better then with that statement. Should nature take its course, you are on your own.
Later, Catherine, Greg, Grissom and I were wrapping up our case. “Most likely he was alive when they left. They just thought they had taught him a lesson,” Catherine concluded.
“They did…don’t confuse fantasy with reality,” Grissom said, looking straight at me. We will do some confusing later on tonight, but right now let’s see who can get the other person to feel the most uncomfortable, at a table across from each other, with coworkers in the room.
“Well, hush money or not…you have to admit that whole ‘fantasy night’ thing was a pretty cool gift from a very generous boss,” Greg suggested to Grissom. Two can play at this game Grissom.
“Greg don’t you have a birthday coming up?” I said looking back at Grissom, who gave me the, ‘you better stop right there’ look.
“I think fantasies are best kept private,” he said looking straight at me. Oh my god, he wasn’t even trying to hide the look obviously meant for me. Catherine was surely going to catch on to us. I didn’t really worry about Greg.
Just as I was about to kick Grissom, Nick interrupted us with the jewelry the victim had bought the night he was killed. Nick began one of his theories, “The biggest fantasy in Vegas is that everything here happens by chance. Nothing here happens by chance. Your odds are set before you get off the plane.” I couldn’t believe how true that statement was. I knew Grissom and I would remain close ever since the first day I met him, but once I set foot off the plane in Las Vegas, I knew I would fall in love with him and he would fall in love with me sooner or later. The odds unfortunately were set at later rather then sooner.
Grissom kicked my leg and brought me out of my haze to see Catherine and Greg leaving the room. God he looked so sexy across the table.
“You, me, this table, right now,” I said.
“In your dreams,” he warned.
“No…in my fantasies.”
“Now that is one of my fantasies, to do it right here on this table.” Did he really just say that?
“Ok,” I replied, beginning to climb up on the table.
“No, no I’m just kidding,” Grissom said quickly, prepared to stop me from getting onto the table.
“Chill out Griss,” I said, grabbing his butt before passing by, “we have a better table at home.” It’s fun to watch Grissom squirm.
GRISSOM:
Catherine, Nick, Sara and I were gathered around a table in the lab, trying to piece together the fantasy night our victim had planned for him. “Any guy would help a beautiful woman in distress, right?” Nick suggested.
“Some guys are intimidated by beauty. Or fear rejection.” The word ‘beauty’ came out of my mouth and I flashed back to the moment I had let it slip in front of Sara before, ages ago at the hockey rink. “Since when are you interested in beauty?” Sara had asked me. Without even a thought, I had replied, “Since I met you,” just like it was a normal part of everyday conversation.
Back to the current case, Sara continued, “According to the script, ‘your employment ends with the goodnight kiss. You are not requested to perform, nor compensated for any activity you initiate beyond this point. Should nature take its course, you are on your own.’” Should nature take its course, you are on your own. You couldn’t describe me and Sara’s first date any better then with that statement. I was on my own and I had never been more nervous about anything in my life then letting nature takes its course, but I’m sure glad it did.
Later, Catherine, Greg, Sara and I were wrapping up our case. “Most likely he was alive when they left. They just thought they had taught him a lesson,” Catherine concluded.
“They did…don’t confuse fantasy with reality,” I said, looking straight at Sara. Our fantasies had indeed become reality. I hadn’t meant to start it, but I had initiated a silent flirting match with Sara at a table with our coworkers.
“Well, hush money or not…you have to admit that whole ‘fantasy night’ thing was a pretty cool gift from a very generous boss,” Greg suggested to me. Sara gave me the ‘two can play at this game’ look and I became worried.
“Greg don’t you have a birthday coming up?” Sara said looking directly at me. She better stop right there.
“I think fantasies are best kept private,” I said, my eyes still burning into her. I wasn’t even trying to hide it, someone would surely catch on.
Luckily, Nick interrupted us with the jewelry the victim had bought the night he was killed. I had a necklace I had just bought Sara yesterday that I was going to give her tonight and I smiled at the thought as I watched her admire the jewelry in Nick’s hand. Then Nick began one of his theories, “The biggest fantasy in Vegas is that everything here happens by chance. Nothing here happens by chance. Your odds are set before you get off the plane.” I couldn’t believe how true that statement was. As soon as Sara had stepped off her plane in Las Vegas and walked up behind me at my crime scene for the first time, I turned to look at her and knew I would fall in love with this woman. Unfortunately it took me a long time to realize it, but look at us now. We were destined to be together, it just took us a while to get there.
I looked over to Sara again and she seemed lost in thought. I wanted to know what she was thinking. Catherine and Greg got up to leave and I stretched my leg over to kick Sara to get her attention. God she looked so sexy across the table.
“You, me, this table, right now,” Sara said once we were alone.
“In your dreams,” I warned. She did not want to get me started in the middle of work. Bad things could happen.
“No…in my fantasies.”
“Now that is one of my fantasies, to do it right here on this table.” Did I really just say that?
“Ok,” Sara replied, beginning to climb up on the table.
“No, no I’m just kidding,” I said quickly, jumping up, prepared to stop Sara from getting onto the table and allowing others to catch us in a compromising position.
“Chill out Griss,” she said, grabbing my butt before passing by, “we have a better table at home.” | |
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