Hello! Okay, so this is a brand new story, set around season 3/4ish - Sara-centric fic but lots of GSR too. I haven't written a story with a case in it before, so this should be fun. Your comments are very much appreciated. Just to say, because this has got a crime case in it, there are descriptions of scenes which are M rated, and this whole story will be M rated. Well, here it goes.

Into Wounds like These

Chapter One

Grissom spread the files out over the desk in his office, a pen in his hand, and his eyes on the papers before him. Catherine and Warrick were talking about Lindsey wanting to get her ears pierced, Nick was eyeing the contents of the shelves in the office, still seemed mesmerized by the glass jars of assorted items, even though he'd seen them every day for five years. Sara was stood watching Grissom read the files, she watched him study the information, deep in thought. She could watch him for hours, and had done in the past, out of the corner of her eye, she was always interested in what Grissom did - she had learnt almost everything about crime scene investigation from him, from her lecture with him six years ago in San Francisco, to every new day she spent in the Vegas lab. He fascinated her.

Grissom cleared his throat, "We've got two new cases tonight. First, man found dead in his car, scene suggests drug overdose, but windows are smashed in. Second, a woman in her apartment, lived alone, strangulation and possible rape. Nick, Warrick, Sara, you've got the first. Catherine and I will take the second."

"I want the second." Sara spoke up. She wanted this case; it hit a nerve with her. She wanted to find the bastard who did it.

"No, Sara." Grissom's reply was stern.

"Why not?" She pushed, feeling the rest of the team's eyes on her, but she didn't care. No one else gave a damn which case they had, as long as they solved it in the end. She wanted this one.

"Because I have assigned Catherine and I to it."

"What does that matter?" Sara knew she'd now overstepped the mark, but she rarely asked for a particular case.

"It doesn't matter, Gil, Sara can take it." Catherine piped up.

Sara smiled at her, and Catherine gave a little smile back, but Sara knew Catherine's intervention would annoy Grissom more.

Grissom stayed silent for a second, his eyes returning to the case files on his desk. "Nick, Warrick, Catherine." He handed one of the case files to the threesome. "Sara, I'll see you in the car."

Sara spun on her heel and left his office, going to the locker room to pick up her kit and jacket. Nick followed her.

"Pretty keen on the case, Sara?" he grinned at her, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

She smiled at him, and shrugged, not wanting to get into a conversation about it. "Just didn't want another drugged up DB."

"You're gonna be on decomps for a month after this." Warrick joined them as they entered the locker room.

"Like it'd make any difference, I've been on them for months already." It was like Grissom wanted her to permanently smell of rotting, she'd lost count of the amount of lemons she'd gone through trying to wash the smell off of herself. What possessed him to give her the cases he did was beyond her. She slipped her case bag's strap over her shoulder, and said her goodbyes to Warrick and Nick before making her way out to Grissom's car.

Grissom was already sat in his black jeep, the engine running, his eyes on the parking lot around them. Sara shivered slightly at the cold breeze, it was already dark outside, 7pm in October. She wore a three-quarter length black t-shirt, jeans, black boots and her Sidle CSI vest jacket. Climbing into the passenger seat of Grissom's car, she buckled her seatbelt as he reversed out of his parking space in the lab's car park.

The drive to the victim's apartment was in silence, Sara watching out the car window at the scenes that passed them through the journey. People going home from work, people going out for their Friday night drinking session, people without a home – the world around her could so easily be overwhelming with the stories each and every person had, their thoughts, their pasts, their futures. Grissom had once told her that everyone commits at least one crime in their lifetime, she wondered what crimes all these people had committed, or were going to commit.

Grissom eventually pulled up outside the victim's apartment block. The area of Vegas was nice, and other than the four apartment blocks in the vicinity, parks and grass areas surrounded the nearby area. The apartment block itself looked nice, it was one of the newer complexes to be built in Vegas, Sara had looked into renting there when they had first opened, but the waiting list was too long, and she'd instead opted for an apartment block a few miles away from the lab. They both exited the car and a police officer showed them into the building.

The entrance was white and clean; two staircases led off to either side, two lifts in between. They entered one of the lifts, and the police officer pressed '5' on the number pad. Once on level 5, they wandered down the white corridors to room 515. The door was open from the police investigation, but there were no signs of forced entry.

"We haven't touched a thing, sir. Neighbour called us at 4pm, said he hadn't seen or heard from the lady for a couple of days, wasn't answering her door, hadn't seen her go to work etc., landlord gave us a key to get in, had a gloved officer open the door so no prints left." The police officer explained before leaving.

Sara placed her kit bag at the door way, and pulled her camera up to her face to begin taking photos as Grissom assessed the scene.

The apartment was small, the bedroom/sitting room was painted blue, with a wooden floor, a bathroom came off from one direction, a kitchen to the other. The only furniture was a double sofa bed, which was set out as a bed, a TV and a wardrobe. On the bed lay the victim, her body was sprawled across the covers, dressed in a purple silk night-dress that had been pushed up to her stomach, her eyes were open, there was blood on the bed clothes, from what looked to be a rape, and possibly a struggle, although there were no signs of a fight on her skin. The woman's hair was shoulder-length, brown, and her skin was pale, although now had a blue-ish tint, marks around her neck suggested cause of death was strangulation, although only post-mortem would confirm that.

Sara pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a wallet from the top of a pile of books, "Rachel Lodge." She raised the driver's licence at Grissom and he nodded in recognition. The wallet still had money in it, ruling out any kind of robbery. Grissom made his way through the rest of the apartment, taking photos himself.

Sara spotted a pile of books on accountancy next to the bed, an empty noodle box on top. Sara felt tears sting her eyes as she stared at the woman that lay in front of her – gotten home from work, showered, chilled out, ordered take-out, caught up on some work… and then raped, and murdered.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, before photographing the body and the bed. Sara managed to find two blonde hairs on the body, and placed them in evidence envelopes, although that was all she could find in the way of foreign objects, until any possible semen was collected later at least It wasn't long before the coroner arrived and took the body away; Sara opened up her kit bag to start finger-printing.

"No signs of forced entry, only two windows in the apartment, neither big enough for a human, killer must have come through the door." Grissom explained.

"Suggests she knew him, to let him in." Sara finger-printed the front door handle and surrounding area.

"Or someone with a key. Is there any CCTV in the corridor, Sara?" Grissom's voice had softened with her after the silence they'd shared. Maybe he was glad he'd let her come instead of Catherine.

She peered out down the corridor, eyeing the ceiling's length, "No sign of any. Will have to double check with the landlord later." Sara turned to look at Grissom, his mind fixated on the evidence as it spoke to him. They normally broke down their investigation into short comments to each other, both building a picture of the crime together, Sara enjoyed working with Grissom because of this, they seemed to be able to read each others' mind, but challenge each others' perceptions, something she didn't have with any of the other team. He looked up at her, and she averted her eyes back to the door she was printing, hoping not to get caught looking at him. Unless she looked away, he always held her gaze, sending a tingle over her skin at the intensity of it all; at least she felt it that way, maybe he was just looking at her like looked at everyone else, with no idea of the thoughts that went through her mind.

"One noodle box, no one came over for dinner." He noted.

Sara pulled a couple of prints from the door handle onto sticky paper, "Once we've got her prints at post-mortem, I can compare these." She placed them in her bag.

"I've checked the bathroom for blood, there's nothing."

Sara started dusting the other side of the door, "So if the killer had blood on his hands, he didn't wash it off here."

Grissom joined her near the doorway, crouching down and looking through the trash can, "Receipts, food wrappers… nothing with any blood on, we'll take it back to the lab anyway."

Sara placed a few more finger print papers into her kit bag.

"I'll go back to the lab and get all this into Greg to start processing," Grissom bagged the bin and took Sara's evidence. "Come back to the lab in an hour or so, shouldn't take longer than that to process the room. Then make sure you talk to the landlord about the CCTV." He told her.

Sara nodded, and turned her attention back to the apartment, determined to find something that would lead to finding the killer.