A/N: This is my first fanfic (that I'm posting)...be nice and leave me a review!

Chapter One

3:01 AM

It was three o'clock in the morning and Sara Sidle had no idea that in seven hours, she would be marrying a man she didn't love. A man, in fact, that she didn't like at all. She was pouring over photographs that were spread in spiraling designs across the table. The blood was vivid, almost orange from the flash of the camera. It seemed to spread, the more you stared at it, almost threatening to spill over the edges of the frame.

Three brides, three young women on the happiest day of their lives had been killed in the past week, raped and throats slashed. Their blood bloomed from their wounds like flowers and spread across the unadulterated white of their soft dresses. The horror of it- the young grooms who would never hold their beautiful wives, the children they would never have, the lives they would never live- felt like ice prickling in Sara's chest.

She wasn't getting anywhere.

"You're not getting anywhere."

At the deep, rumbling sound of a male voice, Sara snapped her head up so fast it hurt. Her heart fluttered with a split second of fear that she quickly squelched with annoyance. Rubbing her neck, she gave a rueful smile. "Hodges, don't you have some half-digested hot dogs to smell?"

"Actually, if you haven't noticed, every other human in the building went home three hours ago," he said in his maddeningly superior tone.

"Which makes you-"

Ignoring her, he went on, "I guess that makes you and I pretty similar."

"You know, Hodges, I'd be able to go home before three in the morning if it weren't for people like you who come in here and pretend it's social hour." She turned back to the pictures, examining a pale footprint she hadn't seen before.

He ran a hand through his short, graying hair in an attempt at casualness. "You didn't seem to mind when Grissom came in and chatted."

"Yes, well-" She grabbed a magnifying glass and peered closer. There were tiny grains of something, maybe glass or sand, stuck in the congealed substance that made up the footprint. They glinted like someone had spilled glitter at the scene.

"What? Well what?"

"I like him better than you. Did you run the trace in this footprint?" She was looking at the photograph intently and missed his slightly offended, slightly amused smirk.

"Technically, I can't tell you that until your shift starts tonight."

"And technically, Grissom can't fire you because you're an ass. But that won't stop him if you start holding up the investigation."

"Okay, okay, you know, a little sleep would do you wonders."

Five hours earlier

"Well, it's pretty obvious someone's targeting couples getting married in the 24 hour chapels along the strip. Three couples, three women dead, three chapels right in a row," Warrick said and looked up from the map where three red x's blared like marks of guilt. Nick and Greg nodded in agreement, Catherine checked a list, and Grissom said nothing.

"Our suspect pool is pretty big," Sara pointed out.

Grissom's attention snapped back to the present. "It's in the thousands."

"The M.O.'s the same so we know it's the same killer. I think we should try to catch him at it," Warrick suggested.

"Logically, he'd keep going down the strip," said Greg. Outside the room, someone turned off the lights. The lab suddenly felt very empty.

"According to this-" Catherine gestured with the paper she was holding "-the next one should be at Wild Heart's."

"So what, we just wait around there all day and hope the guy comes in and tries to attack some poor woman?" Greg asked skeptically.

"It'd have to be one of us, of course," Nick stated and looked between the two women.

"So, who wants to get married?"

Grissom and Sara shared a furtive glance. "I'll do it," the brunette volunteered.

Grissom opened his mouth but was cut off by Catherine. "Ask Brass or someone. We'll get your back."

3:10 AM

"Ohmigod, do you realize what this means?" Sara's voice was as alive and excited as if she'd actually had a good night's sleep. "Our suspect pool is now 25 men."

Hodges nodded, giving himself an exaggerated pat on the back. For once, he actually deserved it. "I bet Joe's Gravel only employs one rapist. And they probably don't know about it. If they did, that would say a lot about today's so-"

"How do you know it's this company?"

"They patented the use of florescent dust in the rocks to make it safer to use at night."

"Dirt's come a long way since we were kids," Sara said wryly. She tucked a coffee-colored strand of hair behind her ear and practically glowed with exhilaration. She was on the hunt.

"So has murder." He studied her with open admiration.

Hating herself even as she said it, Sara blurted, "Hodges, will you marry me?"

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