Warning: Femslash, if the idea of a consenting sexual relationship between two adult women offends you, please do not read my fic. There will be coarse language, violent/dark themes, and other adult topics.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, the characters, or the concept. This is a work of fiction based upon the work of others, no money is being made, this is intended for the enjoyment of other like-minded fans, nothing more. "Narcolepsy Slide" belongs to 3rd Eye Blind.
I love CSI but I don't get the opportunity to watch it regularly, therefore, I reserve the right to bend cannon to my will. This fic is set just after "Lady Heather's Box" – 2003, and well before the events of "Nesting Dolls" – 2005.
Narcolepsy Sidle
And I can feel this narcolepsy slide into another nightmare…
C.S.I. Warrick Brown was bent over a layout table. Laid across the surface were photos and plaster casts of shoe prints.
"Have you seen Sara?"
Warrick looked into the eyes of an irate Catherine Willows. "Nope." He glanced at his watch. "She and Nick worked that DB in Henderson last night, then Gris sent her out to you."
"Yeah, we had a suspicious circs, elderly woman, looks like a natural death, but I need Sara's analysis of the clothing to close this one."
"Maybe she went home, Cath, she'd be well into a triple if she stayed."
Catherine raised a slim eyebrow.
"Good point." Warrick acquiesced. Sara's habit of working multiple shifts was hardly remarkable after five years.
Catherine stalked down the hall. After scouring the lab for Sara she'd turned to Greg, who, after delaying her with his usual posturing, had pointed Catherine to the shop. Catherine's temper flared as she pushed the heavy door open and faced an empty room. On the verge of leaving in a huff, a pair of legs sticking out from under a car caught her eye.
"Sara, I need your report on Mrs. Pendergast's clothing." Catherine's brow furrowed when she received no response. "Sara!" she said sharply.
Making a small noise of frustration, Catherine knelt and gave one of Sara's leg a rough shake. "C'mon Sidle, where's my report?"
Sara jerked violently and Catherine heard the loud, metalic thump of Sara's head on the underside of the car followed by muffled groans and cursing. "Fffffuck."
Catherine winced, that had to have hurt. "Sara?" she questioned softly. Sara rolled the creeper out from under the car, a trickle of blood coursing down her forehead.
"God Sara, I'm sorry…" Catherine said, reaching for the injured brunette. The injured woman flinched from her touch. Catherine's eyes narrowed in frustration. "Sara." She said firmly. Her professional mask nearly back in place, Sara met Catherine's gaze steadily.
"I'm alright Catherine." Sara sighed wearily. "What did you need?"
"Our suspicious circs, Mrs. Pendergast." Noting Sara's blank expression, Catherine continued. "I need your report to close."
"Oh. Oh, yeah." Sara shook her head as if to clear it, brown locks freed from the loose pony tail and framed her face. "I'll uh, I'll go get it." She rose quickly, long legs carrying her from the room before Catherine could utter another word.
Catherine sighed and rose to follow the brunette. When Sara closed the Eddie Willows case, Catherine had been furious with her. Now, nearly three months later, Catherine's rancor had dissipated, but Sara still cut her a ridiculously wide swath. Already an infrequent guest at team breakfasts and post-shift drinks, Sara now rarely socialized with her coworkers and never when Catherine was included.
Sara's evasiveness pervaded even in the lab. It was difficult to avoid anyone in the glass-walled facility, but Sara was managing the task fairly well, Catherine rarely saw her outside of their daily meeting with Gil and the occasional case. Thinking of Gil made Catherine smile, he fumbled through most office politics, but he'd done a good job of keeping her and Sara apart after Eddie's case.
Lost in thought, Catherine reached her office and nearly walked into Sara, who was making her exit. Sara started, side stepped Catherine, and strode back toward the shop.
"Sar-" Catherine began.
"Report's on your desk." She called behind her.
Catherine sighed and walked into her office.
The hot Nevada sun finally slipped below the hills as a black SUV rolled into the car park. Catherine rolled her shoulders and twisted her neck from side to side in an attempt to relieve the tension that had settled there. Heaving a tired sigh, she stepped from the Tahoe, gathered the evidence from the scene she'd worked that day, and walked into the lab.
After logging her evidence, Catherine decided to grab a much needed cup of coffee from the break room. Working on auto pilot, Catherine put on a fresh pot. When the tired appliance gurgled to life, she turned and blinked in surprise – Sara lay curled up on the small break room couch, fast asleep.
Catherine took the rare opportunity to study brunette's relaxed features. The wound she'd sustained under the car a few days before peeked out from the soft brown hair. Catherine felt a smile tug her lips as she noted small bit of drool on the arm of couch under Sara's face.
Making her way across the room, Catherine knelt next to Sara. From her new perspective she noted the sickly pallor and the darkness under Sara's eyes; even in sleep, the woman looked exhausted. Catherine brushed the hair back from Sara's face, surprised when she didn't stir. Placing a hand on her arm, Catherine gave her a gentle shake. Giving a throaty groan, Sara rolled to her back, stretched, but did not wake.
Catherine bit her lip to forestall her amusement. "Sara." She intoned gently. Mindful of the last time she'd surprised the other woman, Catherine shifted back on her heels and tried again more firmly. "Sara."
That drew a response. Sara jerked awake, breath heaving, wild eyes darting around the room until they came to rest on Catherine, who knelt an arm's length away. "Hey, relax, it's just me, you're okay." Sara blinked owlishly and seemed to relax a little.
"I fell asleep." She stated unnecessarily.
"Yeah, you did and judging by the drooling coma you could do with a little more rest."
Sara's hand flew her to her mouth as a self-conscious blush crept up her neck. "I don't even remember laying down." She muttered to herself. Sara swung her long legs to the floor and tried to smooth her hair back into a presentable coiffure.
Catherine's brow furrowed. "Sara, you need more sleep." She said disapprovingly. Sara's gaze snapped to Catherine, eyes flashing with ire.
"I'm not – " she began indignantly as Warrick and Nick entered the break room. "Hello ladies." Warrick intoned good-naturedly.
"Hey Warr." Catherine stood, favoring them with a smile.
"Sara, I think our vic the other day was part of a serial." Nick handed Sara a file and moved to her side on the couch.
Shooting Catherine a wary look, Sara pushed her embarrassment aside and studied the file.
Catherine smiled, waved, and made other small gestures of welcome as she walked into the lab. Noting the empty break room, she glanced at her watch and realized she was uncharacteristically early, the team wouldn't assemble for another twenty minutes. Wrinkling her nose at the thought of the paperwork on her desk, Catherine opted for an aimless walk around the lab.
Her feet carried her to the end of the hall, to "Sara's Lab," and Catherine ruefully acknowledged that her walk might not have been without purpose. Glass walls were indeed a boon when checking up on someone; from the hall, Catherine could see Sara was studying blood spatter.
Dozens of photographs were backlit by the rear wall of the lab, each showed a minute blood spatter. Sara stood before the wall of evidence, hips canted, her left hand tucked in the back pocket of her jeans. Her right foot, encased in a clunky boot as per usual, tapped with a beat Catherine could not hear from the hallway.
Sara's body abruptly stilled, her head tipped slowly to one side. Catherine watched as Sara sprang back to life, jerking one picture from the light board to compare it with another. Sara wheeled back to the layout table, pictures in hand, and began furiously taking notes, her face shining with victory.
Catherine smiled, loathe to interrupt the brunette during a breakthrough, she wandered back toward the break room.
A/N A strange place to stop, I know, but I'm tapped out at the moment. There'll be another chapter next time I'm inspired.
Reviews are welcome, of course, but don't feel obligated. Now scamper off and read something else, fanfic is good for you!
