Damn the invention of pagers, Sara though to herself as the machine hidden in her pocket began to vibrate. She sighed and pulled it out, reading the display.

Double homicide 863 South Street Come ASAP Grissom

She sighed again and shoved it back into her pocket. Great, she thought, another day stuck with Grissom. And why had he chosen her, with his obvious discomfort around her, to help him? Her heart fluttered for a moment. Perhaps he wanted to talk with her, explain why he kept his distance.

She shook her head. No, he probably asked her because everyone else was busy on other cases. She knew that Nick and Catherine were on a drowning case, and Warrick was on leave after a relative's death. That left only her to help with field work.

Well, at least there was always something she could learn from him. About forensics, that is. While Grissom's knowledge of forensics was astounding, he had a void where his people skills should have been. Guess that's what happens when you marry your work and stick around the dead for so long.

* * * * * * Some time later she saw the familiar flashing of police lights and the familiar yellow tape. She pulled up as close as she could, then got out of her car. She stepped past the tape, flashed her CSI badge, and stepped into the alley. The usually dark alley was alight with police flashlights, giving it an eerie feel with the shadows. She pulled her flashlight from her bag and began to look around.

Two bodies lay on the ground in pools of blood. Wooden crates from the warehouse in front of the alley littered the floor, some knocked from their stacks in a struggle. Police were beginning to file out, leaving the CSI's to work undisturbed. The word 'forensics' on the back of one man's jacket caught her eye, and she made her way over to him, careful not to disturb anything.

Grissom stood with his back to her, hands by his side in a tense position. Sara also saw that his eyes were distant. He looked completely lost in thought..

"Grissom?" Sara asked gently, unsure of whether he was concentrating on the case or simply lost in a memory.

He blinked once, then turned to her, his eyes meeting hers. For a moment, he held the eye contact, then abruptly broke it off. "Um...good, you're here." Stupid! Of course she's here! He was momentarily awed by the site of her, something that happened a good bit, but was usually pushed away before he could do anything stupid. He shook his head again.

"Here," he said, pointing to the first body, "we have Britney Ganash, age twenty-two. Prostitute. And here we have an unidentified male. Cause of death seems to be severe head trauma, probably beaten with a blunt object."

Sara nodded. Leave it to Grissom to jump right into work. No 'hi' or 'how are you doing?'. Who discovered the bodies?"

"A twelve-year-old kid. Says he was taking a shortcut home when he stepped in something." He shined his flashlight on a pool of blood, where a child's footprint was clearly visible. "He ran home and called 9-1-1."

Sara knelt by the woman's body, pulling out a pair of gloves as she did. Grissom knelt beside her. He extended his arm to show her something, brushing lightly against her as he did. A small chill ran down her spine, but she tried not to let it show. She wasn't creeped out by the touch, it seemed to arouse the feelings that she surpressed. She wanted him to touch her again, just to feel his presence, but he shifted, moving slightly away from her.

"We've got some major lacerations on her temple here. They're actually all over her head, but the worst of it seems to be here. Looks to me like someone snuck up behind her and hit her once really good."

"Have they found a murder weapon yet?"

Grissom smiled and stood, clapping her on the shoulder. "Not yet. That why we're here."

Sara allowed a small smile, then finished pulling on her gloves. For nearly half an hour they searched the alley, checking in every place they could think of. Finally, Grissom spotted something.

"Hey Sara..." he called, his flashlight trained on a 2 by 4 on a second floor windowsill. It sat haphazardly near the edge, as if it had been tossed. The cracked window behind it backed up that theory.

Sara stepped over to him, staring up at the wood. "Nice, Grissom. Now how do we get it down?"

Grissom frowned, then tried to use a box to reach the windowsill without moving it. This failed and he stepped back, staring at the sill thoughtfully. He turned to Sara after a moment and stared. His blue gaze made her feel uncomfortable. Finally he stepped closer to her. "How much do you weigh?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not a very appropriate thing to say." Once again, his lack of people skills is apparent. But what is he getting at?

He held his hands off as if warding off an attack. "Ok, ok. Sorry. Let me try again. I'm guessing you weigh a good bit less that 150 pounds?"

Sara narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. Why?"

He looked back up at the windowsill. "We don't have time to call for a ladder; it's about to rain. But we need to get that 2 by 4 down or else we could lose the evidence on it." He turned back to her. "If I could life you up, you should be able to grab it."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him. This was odd, but then again, Gilbert Grissom was known for his unorthodox procedures to get the job done. And they needed to get the job done so all of the gathered evidence could be analyzed. And the 2 by 4 could be one of the most crucial pieces.

She stepped closer to him, allowing a small smile to play across her lips. "Fine."

He nodded, and Sara noticed a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as well. He stepped back, putting his back to the wall, just below the windowsill. He laced his fingers together and nodded to Sara.

She tentatively grasped his shoulder and put a foot on his hands. "Ready?" he asked her, his face inches from hers. "On three, I'm going to lift you up. One...two...three!"

On three, she put her other foot on his hands and he pushed her into the air. She leaned against the wall for balance and reached for the wood. Her fingers fell a few inches short.

She looked down at Grissom, who held her up at about his waist level. "Can you get me just a little higher?" she asked, knowing that she must be heavy.

He nodded and pushed her up as high as he could, unsure of just how much height she needed. It was hard for him, but comical to anyone who may have seen them, with him holding her up like a cheerleader. Sara was relieved for him that she had decided to wear flat shoes today, and relieved for herself that she had worn pants and not a skirt.

The extra height allowed her to see the 2 by 4 better as well as grab it. "You were right, Grissom. This thing has blood and scalp all over the end."

He grunted. "Good. Now please hurry and bag it." She looked down at his reddening face and nodded. She quickly put the wood into a bag. "Ok," she said as she sealed it. She pushed away from the wall a bit to signal for him to let her down, but misjudged and pushed too hard. She lost her balance and loosed herself from Grissom's tentative grip, falling towards the ground. Grissom, reacting quicker than she thought possible, lunged forward to catch her. He caught her, one hand catching her shoulders and the other catching her under the knees, but her weight caused him to crumble to the ground, Sara still in his arms.

She opened her eyes a moment later, surprised that she wasn't in a hospital room. She heard someone groan and looked down. It was Grissom, and she was sitting on top of him. She quickly fumbled to get off of the man's stomach. "Grissom!" she cried, rolling onto the ground. She leaned over him.

His eyes were clenched shut and he had a pained expression on his face. But she also noticed a small smile playing at his lips, through his grimace. She frowned when he began to laugh quietly.

"What? You think this is funny?"

He opened his eyes and grimaced again. "Not at all. That just wasn't what I planned."

She shook her head, though she was smiling, and stood up. She held out a hand to help him up. He grasped her hand, then tried to stand. He lost his balance, tumbling down to the ground again, pulling Sara down with him.

For a moment, Sara simply lay on him, laughing quietly into his chest. She lifted her head up a bit, meeting his eyes. "Are you flirting with me, Grissom?" she asked jokingly as she began to stand up again.

He gave her a small smile. "Maybe..." He then slowly stood up, leaving Sara to gawk at him. He groaned and pressed his hands to his back after he stood. He glanced up at the windowsill, then began to stiffly back to his car. "Don't forget the evidence," he reminded her from over his shoulder.

Sara stared after him for a moment. 'Hey Grissom..." He turned back to her. "Thanks."

He smiled, a rare true smile that lit up his eyes. "Sure," he replied, then turned and walked back to his Tahoe.