Sara Sidle was once asked if she could ever take another human's life. She answered no. But what if the situation involved some she cared about?
Sara was tired. Too tired to be pulling a double shift, but here she was. Driving into the driveway of a beautiful three-story house in the suburbs of Sin City. A double-homicide had been reported at the end of the night and Gil had asked Sara to stay on to lend a hand. Not like she had anything better to do.
Gil, who was also taking a double shift, was already on the scene and processing the crime scene.
Sara brushed a strain of hair from her face after she shut the driver's door of the blue Suburban. She quickly grabbed her kit from the back and headed towards the house. A cool breeze blew in from the Nevada desert and gently blew against her face, sending a momentary chill through Sara's body.
Her shoes clicked on the ten or so brick steps that led up to a large mahogany door. She began to review what she knew about the case so far. The crime had been committed in the master bedroom on the third floor. The victims, Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, both had been shot with a small caliber pistol. Mr. Toby Erickson had taken a bullet to the back of skull; while his wife, Betsy, had been shot twice in the chest.
Sidle hadn't noticed that the door was shut until she had gotten right in front of it. Slipping on a latex glove, not wanting to disturb the scene, she opened the door and entered. As she went into the house she took an instinctive a look around. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the foyer of the home she went for the stairs.
She stopped on the stairs and her body tensed when she heard a sound from the upstairs. It had sounded like something fell, but whatever it was it had hit the floor heavily.
Assuming that she was too tired and that she just on edge she continued up the stairs. However, when got to the second floor and heard heavy sound followed by scattering glass she knew something was wrong.
Setting down her kit on the plush carpet and pulling her gun from its holster, she headed up the last set of stairs. The thick carpet keep her steps quite and she willed herself to make as little sound as possible. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her ear and made an effort to slow her breathing, trying to remain calm like they'd taught her in training.
On the third floor, Sara saw a LVPD Deputy lying unconscious beside the staircase. Sounds of a struggle still came from the room down the hall as she moved towards it. Her hand around her gun shook slightly as she moved down the hall to the only lit room on the floor. The beige walls were covered with elegant works of art, and all the others doors along the hall were closed expect for the one at the end.
Sara stepped swiftly into the room and swept the room with her eyes quickly, keeping her gun level. She was not ready for what she saw.
Gil was kneeling on one knee while balancing himself with his one hand. His other arm was wrapped around his chest and his face showed a grimace of pain. His lip was bleeding and there was already a sore forming on his cheek. A broken glass vase lay near Gil on the light tan carpet.
A dark headed man stood in front of him with a gun pointed straight at him. He was a large man, probably around six feet tall, but his back was turned to Sara.
The second she saw her boss in danger everything she had been taught in training kicked in. Sara brought her gun up and aimed at the man's back.
"Put the gun down and keep your hands where I can see them!" She stated firmly, the authority clear in her voice.
"No!" The man practically screamed and turned his face to Sara. His nose was bleeding badly; his cheek was wounded and bleeding as well. "Drop your gun or the old man gets it!" His dark blue eyes glared at her.
Her grip tightened on her gun as she processed his words. He'd threatened to kill Gil. Gil Grissom, the only person she'd had true feeling for in a long time. The man she respected as a professional as well as a man.
She knew she had seconds to make a decision, but it seemed the seconds had stretched into years as she stood there. Thoughts and images rapidly filled her mind.
Meeting Mr. Grissom for the first back in San Francisco when she was only a student. Then their relationship had grown into something more akin to mentor and apprentice, nothing more. Her respect for his intelligence growing the more she worked with him.
When she'd come to Las Vegas almost four years ago she'd been glad to have the chance to work with him as more of an equal. The chance to prove herself to him as CSI, to prove she was worthy of the position. But in all the years she worked with him she had only recently realized that it wasn't about approval. Well, not approval from Gil at least.
Sometimes Sara felt so alone and that feeling made her sick inside. Not so many years ago she promised herself to live. And not so long after that she had realized her feelings for Grissom, feelings that had definitely grown much farther than professional.
"I'm totally serious lady! Drop your gun or I'll shoot!" The man yelled again, his gun still aimed steadily at Gil's head. His finger twitched at the trigger.
Sara glanced at Gil quickly. She saw the fear in his eyes and knew that wasn't only for himself. "Put your gun down! No one has to get hurt." She glowered at her opponent.
The adrenaline pumped through her veins and anger coursed within her mind. No one but no one was going to take the one thing she knew she wanted from her and live. No one would hurt Gil Grissom while she had the ability to stop them.
"DROP THE GUN!" She yelled one last time. Her hand no longer shook. They held her gun steady and unmoving.
The dark haired man swung his body and gun around to her as he yelled defiantly at her.
Sara Sidle didn't hesitate when she knew Gil's life was in danger. She didn't hesitate when she knew she could save him.
Her shot rang throughout the room as the bullet impacted the center of the man's chest, shattering his sternum. All her life it had been her belief she could never take another human life. The life of the man she loved had never been threatened before, though, and that had changed everything.
Sara was tired. Too tired to be pulling a double shift, but here she was. Driving into the driveway of a beautiful three-story house in the suburbs of Sin City. A double-homicide had been reported at the end of the night and Gil had asked Sara to stay on to lend a hand. Not like she had anything better to do.
Gil, who was also taking a double shift, was already on the scene and processing the crime scene.
Sara brushed a strain of hair from her face after she shut the driver's door of the blue Suburban. She quickly grabbed her kit from the back and headed towards the house. A cool breeze blew in from the Nevada desert and gently blew against her face, sending a momentary chill through Sara's body.
Her shoes clicked on the ten or so brick steps that led up to a large mahogany door. She began to review what she knew about the case so far. The crime had been committed in the master bedroom on the third floor. The victims, Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, both had been shot with a small caliber pistol. Mr. Toby Erickson had taken a bullet to the back of skull; while his wife, Betsy, had been shot twice in the chest.
Sidle hadn't noticed that the door was shut until she had gotten right in front of it. Slipping on a latex glove, not wanting to disturb the scene, she opened the door and entered. As she went into the house she took an instinctive a look around. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the foyer of the home she went for the stairs.
She stopped on the stairs and her body tensed when she heard a sound from the upstairs. It had sounded like something fell, but whatever it was it had hit the floor heavily.
Assuming that she was too tired and that she just on edge she continued up the stairs. However, when got to the second floor and heard heavy sound followed by scattering glass she knew something was wrong.
Setting down her kit on the plush carpet and pulling her gun from its holster, she headed up the last set of stairs. The thick carpet keep her steps quite and she willed herself to make as little sound as possible. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her ear and made an effort to slow her breathing, trying to remain calm like they'd taught her in training.
On the third floor, Sara saw a LVPD Deputy lying unconscious beside the staircase. Sounds of a struggle still came from the room down the hall as she moved towards it. Her hand around her gun shook slightly as she moved down the hall to the only lit room on the floor. The beige walls were covered with elegant works of art, and all the others doors along the hall were closed expect for the one at the end.
Sara stepped swiftly into the room and swept the room with her eyes quickly, keeping her gun level. She was not ready for what she saw.
Gil was kneeling on one knee while balancing himself with his one hand. His other arm was wrapped around his chest and his face showed a grimace of pain. His lip was bleeding and there was already a sore forming on his cheek. A broken glass vase lay near Gil on the light tan carpet.
A dark headed man stood in front of him with a gun pointed straight at him. He was a large man, probably around six feet tall, but his back was turned to Sara.
The second she saw her boss in danger everything she had been taught in training kicked in. Sara brought her gun up and aimed at the man's back.
"Put the gun down and keep your hands where I can see them!" She stated firmly, the authority clear in her voice.
"No!" The man practically screamed and turned his face to Sara. His nose was bleeding badly; his cheek was wounded and bleeding as well. "Drop your gun or the old man gets it!" His dark blue eyes glared at her.
Her grip tightened on her gun as she processed his words. He'd threatened to kill Gil. Gil Grissom, the only person she'd had true feeling for in a long time. The man she respected as a professional as well as a man.
She knew she had seconds to make a decision, but it seemed the seconds had stretched into years as she stood there. Thoughts and images rapidly filled her mind.
Meeting Mr. Grissom for the first back in San Francisco when she was only a student. Then their relationship had grown into something more akin to mentor and apprentice, nothing more. Her respect for his intelligence growing the more she worked with him.
When she'd come to Las Vegas almost four years ago she'd been glad to have the chance to work with him as more of an equal. The chance to prove herself to him as CSI, to prove she was worthy of the position. But in all the years she worked with him she had only recently realized that it wasn't about approval. Well, not approval from Gil at least.
Sometimes Sara felt so alone and that feeling made her sick inside. Not so many years ago she promised herself to live. And not so long after that she had realized her feelings for Grissom, feelings that had definitely grown much farther than professional.
"I'm totally serious lady! Drop your gun or I'll shoot!" The man yelled again, his gun still aimed steadily at Gil's head. His finger twitched at the trigger.
Sara glanced at Gil quickly. She saw the fear in his eyes and knew that wasn't only for himself. "Put your gun down! No one has to get hurt." She glowered at her opponent.
The adrenaline pumped through her veins and anger coursed within her mind. No one but no one was going to take the one thing she knew she wanted from her and live. No one would hurt Gil Grissom while she had the ability to stop them.
"DROP THE GUN!" She yelled one last time. Her hand no longer shook. They held her gun steady and unmoving.
The dark haired man swung his body and gun around to her as he yelled defiantly at her.
Sara Sidle didn't hesitate when she knew Gil's life was in danger. She didn't hesitate when she knew she could save him.
Her shot rang throughout the room as the bullet impacted the center of the man's chest, shattering his sternum. All her life it had been her belief she could never take another human life. The life of the man she loved had never been threatened before, though, and that had changed everything.