Title: Love Bites
Pairing: Sara/Nick, Amelia/Speed, hints at Amelia/Grissom
Spoiler: Lost Son, Viva Las Vegas, Pilot, basically all CSI episodes up to season 4/5ish.
Summary: After Nick's older sister Amelia transferred from Las Vegas, he thought he'd never see her again. Then she became a victim in a serial killer's game. Now, the Las Vegas CSIs are racing against time to find the killer.
Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. I.E: Amelia, Evan, and the victims and suspects. CSI Belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and all of those smart people who created these fine CSI series.
My Original Note: Ok. Explanation: Nick is the youngest of 7 children. So I'm just adding a sister to the mix. Um, I try to keep to the show and I try not to do anything stupid. If anybody could give me help with the whole forensic part, please, I love input. This will be a six story sequel. This is the first story. This takes place after Bloodlines. And it takes place after Lost Sons. It's basically about a month and a half after Lost Sons. So, please be kind. and please review! I would really like to know how I'm doing.
My New Note: Hey everyone! I am in the middle of a rewrite. I'm basically trying to make things flow better. I first wrote this when I was like 16. Now that I'm 21, I'm a better writer and I'd like to make this a better story. I hope you like!
Chapter 1: Case of the Ex
"There's no need to
Reminisce about the past
Obviously cause that shit did not last." -Mya 'Case of the Ex'
Amelia knew what she was doing. How could she not? She thought she should feel good about it. For the last fourteen years she had been abused by her boyfriend-turned husband-turned ex-husband. She always did whatever he wanted her to, but even Amelia Claudia Stokes had her limits. But yet she wondered, as she sat in the court room, why seeing him in hand cuffs didn't make her feel better.
In all respects, she would rather see him hanged.
But then again, the defense was blaming everything on her.
They were trying to make it seem like she's been lying about the cuts and the bruises and the broken bones. She has a badge and a gun therefore she's the guilty one. The biggest load of shit I've ever heard, Amelia thought to herself as she looked around the court room. Sounds like the Feds to me. Assholes. Everyone was staring at her. Watching. Waiting.
"Mrs. Martin?" The defense attorney asked. Amelia cringed and looked up at him, slightly glaring. Two years and people were still calling her Mrs. Martin.
"I prefer Ms. Stokes, if you don't mind." She said a bit harshly. The defense attorney smiled. He was obviously a defense attorney for scum like Evan Martin. Amelia glanced at her ex-husband. He sat in his grey suit, smiling at Amelia. That sick smile that makes you want to hurl. It makes your skin crawl. How did I fall in love with that? Amelia thought to herself. Amelia turned back to the D.A. She had forgotten his name within minutes of hearing it.
"Of course. Now, what is your current job?" He asked. Amelia rolled her eyes and looked at the ground to her right.
"I'm a Crime Scene Investigator for the Miami-Dade Police Department Crime Lab." She told him. And now she waited for the next question. It was always the same. She could already hear it coming.
"A CSI? So you work in different crime scenes?" He asked. Amelia nodded, not the exact question she was looking for, but close to it.
"That's what we tend to do." She said, looking up at him. He smiled again and Amelia felt a shiver go up her spine. Same thing with Evan. God, they are the same type of scum.
"So, you've handled spousal abuse cases, haven't you?" He asked. Bam. The million dollar question. Duh, you idiot. Amelia bit back a snide comment.
"Yes. Of course. A spouse killing their spouse happens a lot more than people realize." She replied. The D.A. spun and looked at the jury. They had bored looks on their faces. Amelia couldn't tell if they were on her side or Evans and that scared her. Amelia had always been good at reading people's faces. But it seems that leaving Las Vegas has dulled her senses. That or she was just tired.
"So you admit to knowing the 'qualifications' of a husband beating a wife?" He asked. Amelia held back a laugh and a curse.
"Everybody does. What, do you think I'm making this up?" She asked angrily, tired of his stupid and pointless questions. The D.A. looked at her, smiling evilly. Oh great, more stupid questions, Amelia visibly rolled her eyes.
"Did you or did you not date Evan for four years before marrying him?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Did you or did you not make him move to Las Vegas in 1998?"
"I didn't make him do anything." She told him. She was seriously getting tired of his questions and she was ready to slam his head into a wall.
"Just answer the question." He told her forcefully.
"I did." She shot at him. You blooming idiot, she added to herself.
"Yes or no." He said, more angrily than before.
"No, I didn't make him move to Las Vegas." Amelia said.
"Did you or did you not ever tell your brother, Nicholas Stokes, whom you worked with in Las Vegas, about your husband beating you?" He asked. Amelia sighed.
"No, I did not tell him, or anyone else, until a few weeks ago." The D.A. frowned and looked at the jury.
"Did you have a sexual relationship with a fellow CSI in Las Vegas? A man named Gil Grissom." He asked. Amelia scoffed.
"No, I did not." Amelia told him. That was the truth. She was married; she couldn't have done anything with Grissom. They just shared an office.
That's all.
He was her mentor.
Her friend.
Someone whom Amelia was highly attracted to, but nothing ever happened.
Besides...she had been married.
The D.A. spun around. He had an accusing look on his face and it made Amelia want to laugh. The D.A. had it all wrong and he was so stupid. But he was the perfect defense attorney. He knew how to turn everything around to where he laid the blame on everybody but his client.
"What was your relationship with Dr. Grissom?" He asked. Amelia shuddered as he smiled at her.
"Gil was my co-worked. A mentor of sorts. We-I-he let me keep my notes and a desk in his office." Amelia stammered.
"Why?"
"Because we share similar interests. He is a highly skilled entomologist, and I am an aspiring entomologist." Amelia explained. She knew Gil, Catherine, Jim, Warrick, and Nick would sometime come into this. It was inevitable. They were a big part of her life, even if she only spent two years in Las Vegas. They were the best two years of her life. The Las Vegas crime lab is one of the best crime labs in the country. Everybody on the night shift was great to her. She had missed them so much over the last four years, her brother the most.
"Can you clarify what an Entomologist is?" The D.A. asked. Amelia suppressed her laughter and nodded.
"Entomology is the study of bugs; ergo an Entomologist is someone who studies bugs." Amelia explained not only for him but for the rest of the people in the courtroom. Yeah, I forgot. Not everyone has a brain. Forgive me, oh retarded one.
"So, Dr. Grissom, Gil, was your mentor." He said, turning away from her again and flashing his smile at the jury. Amelia wanted to vomit.
"Need me to clarify what a mentor is?" Amelia asked. Chuckles broke out around the courtroom. Even from the judge. An angry smile flashed over the D.A.'s face.
"No, that's fine. So, Dr. Grissom was your friend, but you never told him about your husband beating you?" He asked. Amelia once again rolled her eyes. Give me a fucking break! Her mind screamed.
"Ex-husband and no. I pretty much kept it to myself. How many wives do you know that tell everyone that they're beating beat?" She shot back. The D.A.'s cold brown eyes bore into Amelia's sparkling green eyes.
"What about Sara Sidle?" He asked. Amelia's heart stopped. Her eyes shifted from his and she sank back into her chair. Sara was not a good topic. Not a good one at all.
In 1999, Amelia started writing her third forensic book. Amelia was having trouble with it, so Gil suggested a former student of his, Sara Sidle. Amelia took leave and went to San Francisco. It was trouble from the beginning.
Sara had unknown hate against Amelia even before they met. Amelia, in the end, guessed it was because of Grissom. In the beginning Sara hardly made an effort. Whenever Amelia mentioned Grissom, Sara either tensed or loosened up. After a couple of weeks Sara asked Amelia what her specialty was.
Amelia told her it was blood splatter. But she also told her she was studying to be an entomologist and Grissom was helping her.
Sara freaked and refused to talk to her after that. Amelia was confused, but after one last try and one last conversation, Amelia left. Amelia hadn't seen or talked to Sara since then and that was fine with Amelia. Sara seemed too hostile for Amelia sometimes. Not a big people person.
Like Grissom.
"Ms. Stokes?" The D.A.'s stupid, annoying voice snapped Amelia out of her thoughts.
"Oh. Sara. Uh. What about her?" Amelia asked.
"Did she find out about your husband allegedly beating you?" The D.A. asked. Amelia gulped. How would he know? Did he call her?
Amelia and Sara's last conversation had been tense. Sara saw a bruise on Amelia's upper arm and demanded answers. Amelia didn't need to say anything. Sara realized, after looking at the whole bruise, that it was hand shaped. Sara knew Amelia was married and she put the pieces together.
Amelia denied it and said it was from the last case she did. Sara didn't buy it but said no more. Amelia left the next day. As far as she knew, Sara never told anybody about what happened. Amelia silently thanked her for that. Nick and the Las Vegas CSIs would find out when Amelia was ready to tell them.
"She saw a hand shaped bruise on my upper arm. She knew I was married and she put two and two together. She's a smart woman." Amelia told him. The D.A. forced a fake smile and turned to face the 'crowd'.
"Tell me about Timothy Speedle." He said. Amelia sighed. And then the tears threatened to fall. She took a deep breath.
"What does Tim have to do with any of this?" Amelia asked snidely.
"Do you live with him?" He asked. Amelia's lower lip quivered.
"I did." She answered simply. Please do not go into this! Amelia begged silently. I can't handle this.
"You did?" He asked. Amelia nodded her head and looked down at the ground.
"He was killed a month ago." Amelia managed to say, looking right at him. The D.A. actually managed to look sorry. Amelia wiped away a stray tear.
"I'm sorry for your loss. So, you were together?" He asked. Amelia nodded.
"Dating. He let me stay with him when he saw Evan beating me up." Amelia said. Her only witness to anything was dead.
"He saw Mr. Martin beating you?" He asked. Amelia nodded again.
"Evan came to the office one day, before shift was over. He cornered me when no one else was around. Then Tim came and he stopped Evan after he hit me a few times. After that Tim rarely let me out of his sight, or he made sure someone else was around, but he never told anyone. I made him promise." Amelia sobbed into her hands.
"May I ask who killed Mr. Speedle?" The D.A. asked. Amelia looked up at him and wiped away the tears. She glared at him.
"It had to do with a robbery. His gun jammed at the wrong time." Amelia explained. The D.A. nodded and turned to the judge.
"No more questions, your honor." He turned and walked back to his seat next to Evan. Neither looked happy. One for me, none for Evan. Amelia knew that didn't go as well as she hoped, but it was something. The prosecutor stood up and walked towards Amelia.
"Ms. Stokes, why did you stay with Evan for twelve years?" He asked. Daniel Lodge, his name. Nice guy, but still a lawyer.
"I don't know. I mean, he was nice at first. But...I thought if I left him, he would kill me. I knew with him I could stay close to Nick, have my career, and stay...alive." She told him. He nodded; a concerned look on his face. Compassion. Amelia hadn't seen that since Tim. Or rather, the Miami CSIs.
"So, you stayed with him to survive?" He paused. On Amelia's nod he continued. "That's an odd way to survive."
"It's an odd life we live. Look, he's never hurt me enough to kill me; I can protect myself that much. But he's broken bones, made me loose blood, and bruised my upper arms, legs, chest and back. I've done lie after lie for him. I've lied to my friends; I've lied to my family. I'm not lying anymore. Not for him." Amelia put it plain and simple. The prosecutor nodded and looked at the judge.
"No more questions, your honor." The judge turned and looked at Amelia.
"You can step down now, Ms. Stokes." The judge said politely. Amelia smiled kindly and headed towards her seat behind the prosecutor. As she sat down, she pulled her pinstripe jacket closer around her. Being in this courtroom reminded Amelia of Nick.
Amelia grew up in Dallas, one of seven kids; the youngest of five girls. Nick was the youngest of all. Being only one year apart, the two future CSIs got along pretty well. They had their share of sibling fights, but usually got along pretty well. Their favorite thing to do as children was play cops and robbers with their other siblings. Amelia and Nick would pretend to be cops.
As they got older, they drifted apart in some ways, but they still shared that some love. They went to the same college; both got a Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice. Amelia waited four years after she graduated before joining the Dallas Crime Lab; Nick waited three years before joining the Dallas Police Force. A year later he joined Amelia at the Crime Lab.
That same year Amelia married Evan. They had met in college, both taking Criminal Justice courses. He went off to Gatesville, Texas to be a prison guard a year before Amelia graduated. He came back to Dallas in 1992, and they started dating. The beatings didn't start until a year later.
When Nick transferred to Las Vegas in 1998, Evan got a job position in the Las Vegas Prison. Amelia and Evan transferred to Las Vegas. He to the prison, her to the Crime Lab. Nick loved his family but he wanted to make roots of his own. But he also loved having Amelia working with him, so he had no problem with Amelia coming to Las Vegas.
But in 2000, Amelia decided it was time to leave. Evan had gotten fired from the Las Vegas prison a few months before, so he had gotten another job offer from the Miami Prison. Amelia decided Miami would be a nice place to transfer to. After they moved, Amelia cut off all contact with her family and friends. They stayed for a year before Evan got fired. He wanted to move but Amelia didn't. She had grown close to the Miami team and didn't want to leave. She had also grown close to Timothy 'Speed' Speedle.
A year later Amelia divorced Evan after he stabbed her twice and broke three of her toes. He stayed away for a while, but it didn't last long. Speed protected her as best he could after he saw Evan beating Amelia up. But then...he died and there was no one to protect Amelia.
Now, here she was. Bruised and cut up, sitting in a courtroom in black pinstripe pants with a white button up shirt and a pinstripe jacket. She wore black high heels with it. Not her usual attire, but hey, she was in court. One thing Amelia had learned from being a CSI was that when you went to court, you dressed nice. By the way things had gone so far, it wasn't looking to good.
She needed a sympathy vote.
------
A day. It took less than a day. Less than a day to crush Amelia's world. It took less than a day for them to find a verdict. Some verdict.
Not guilty.
Two words that seemed to make everything fall beneath Amelia. She was lost without Speed. She was sad, angry, and empty without him.
She was at his empty apartment now. The one she moved into when they were dating. She had all of her things, 4 bags of stuff, in the trunk of her white SUV. She still had some of Speed's things, but most of it had been given to his family. She had sold all of the furniture and dishes. She was leaving Miami. She couldn't afford to stay. Her life and her sanity depended on it.
As she threw her last bag in the car and climbed in she didn't notice the figure watching her from across the street. He was sitting in his car. As Amelia's car sped past him, he started up his car and followed her.
Even as the black sedan followed Amelia out of Miami, she still paid no attention. The car, and the person in the car, never made any move to strike. He just followed her.
He followed her through Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, and finally Nevada. The three day drive had taken it out of the driver of the sedan. But he still noticed as Amelia drove into Las Vegas.