Title: Out of costume

Author: partlybouncy on LiveJournal

Spoilers None that I can think of.

Challenge: A response to the Mary Sue Challenge on the LiveJournal community Best Kept Private

Author notes: This is the first piece of fan fiction I've written in about five months and the first piece of CSI fan fiction I've ever written. Thanks to LiveJournal user Graywords for the help.

Her name was Mary Sue Smith. She was born in 1972 in New York City at the first Star Trek convention to Australian nationals. Her parents had been early computer scientists working on Australian Computer Science network. They were geeks, Star Trek geeks. Despite this, they were reasonably attractive people and had passed on their good looks to her. In 1982, her parents moved to the United States to work for the American Department of Defense and because of their love of American Star Trek conventions. Her parents decisions, her parents hobbies were why Mary Sue Smith currently was working undercover at the Star Trek Experience as a Borg.

The Australian Federal Police Agent currently found herself, in costume, sitting with several of her Star Trek Experience co-workers waiting to get finger printed and have a sample of her DNA taken. One of her co-workers, it seemed, had seen fit to kill another. Whoever it was had seriously put her cover at risk. The American terrorists she was after would probably be more paranoid after this event, what with the added police scrutiny.

But the person taking a sample of her DNA was at least a nice piece of eye candy to make the costume stripping, finger printing process and DNA collecting a little more enjoyable. Very attractive brunette. Gap toothed smile. The brunette pointed at her.

"If you'll please come inside, I'll need you to take off the costume," she said.

Mary Sue smiled at her, looked at her two Borg co-workers, and saw they were engaged in an intense conversation over what Picard would do in this situation. "That's a little forward our first time alone," she said as she followed the brunette into the room.

"If you'll take off the costume, putting the contents into the garbage bag on the table, that would be appreciated. The crime lab has kindly provided an extra set of clothes for you to wear," the CSI said, ignoring Mary Sue's innuendo. "After that, we'll get your finger prints and DNA and you should be out of here in ten minutes."

"You know, this really isn't necessary. I haven't had the chance to contact my embassy and I'm sure they'd tell you this isn't necessary. I tried to explain that to the detective but he wouldn't listen," Mary Sue said as she slowly began to rid herself of her costume. She risked a glance at the room's other occupant. "And you really don't care about what I'm saying do you?" She took a second to read the name on the vest the CSI wore. "Ms. Sidle?"

Sara Sidle grinned again. It wasn't often that Borg hung out at the police station. The situation, while not funny for the dead Borg, nor the other Borg, was humorous. And it was hard to take some one seriously who was dressed as a Borg. She couldn't wait to tell Grissom about this. "I really don't care. This is purely voluntary and if you don't want to volunteer, I'm sure they have a nice cell for you until you decide to cooperate."

Down to her undergarments and about to put on the provided clothing, Mary Sue again looked at Ms. Sidle. Darned, still not checking her out. Cover almost blown, in a ridiculous outfit and not even being checked out by the attractive woman asking her to strip. The day was just couldn't get any worse. She put on her clothes. Then Mary turned around to put her costume in the bag. Once complete, she asked "Now what?"

"Now I take a sample of your DNA. Say 'Ah.'" CSI Sidle crossed the room, brandishing a DNA swab.

"Ah." DNA swab in. DNA swab out. Sara Sidle then finger printed her, without the pair exchanging a word. The CSI was afraid she'd laugh and Mary Sue was annoyed at life for being unfair to her. Mary Sue huffed. Sara made an 'after you' type gesture and watched as Mary Sue Smith left the room and the door closed behind her.

Then Sara laughed for a few seconds. She quickly regained her composure and then went to find her next Borg to process.

It was another hour before Sara had completed processing the three remaining female Borgs. As the case had come in mid-shift, this meant she was about ready to end her day. As the case was not a high profile one, there was no reason to stick around and start processing the costumes. All she had to do was drop the evidence off with DNA and fingerprints and she'd be set to go. Once she'd become involved with Grissom on a level of more than co-workers, more than friends, Sara had made a point of trying to leave work on time and to take him with her.

And she really wanted to take her Bugman out to breakfast at the diner so she could discuss her case with him. Sara really didn't think that any of the Borg she had processed were guilty but she'd wait for the evidence to tell her more. The first one had acted so above the situation: She wasn't one of them and they needed to realize that. The second one had insisted on talking the whole way through about how this was all like this episode of Star Trek where Harry Kim had been wrongly accused of sex crime. The third one had gone on about how none of her co-workers could have killed anyone because they were too stupid. The last one had gone on about how the first one was so hot and intelligent and what did Sara think her chances of getting a date with her were?

That was why she now leaning against the frame of his office door. "Hey, we're still on for breakfast right?"

"Yeah, just give me ten minutes to finish this report and I'll meet you at your car."

Twenty minutes later, the couple found themselves at the diner, sitting on opposite sides of the booth. They were playing a discrete game of footsie under the table while waiting for their order to arrive. Sara's foot moved a bit to close to a certain area for Grissom's comfort considering the public location. They had already completed their traditional discussion of traditionally eating at this particular diner, consuming its edible but not altogether healthy and vegetarian friendly food. Grissom had briefly mentioned a trade that the Minnesota Twins had made in the off-season which should help with their pitching for the upcoming season. Sara hadn't grumbled about that particular topic, something she frequently did as she wasn't the fan he was. Overall, she seemed rather bright and cheerful, not her normal countenance when he mentioned baseball and tradition.

"So what's up? Why the exceedingly chipper mood?" he finally asked as the waitress slid their plates on the table.
"The case I caught with Nick today involved some Borg from the Star Trek Experience. Vega's initial thought and early witness statements seem to indicate that the victim, who was dressed as a Borg at the time, was killed by one of his Borg co-workers."

Grissom let out a resigned sigh. He clearly wasn't getting why this would be cause for excitement. "And...?"

"There is something about Trekkers that you just can't help but smile about."

"You mean the inevitable feeling superior to another class of human beings because of superior social skills and a greater intellect."

Sara frowned, deep in thought for a second. "Yeah, besides that." Slowly, she took a bite of her hash browns before resuming her conversation. "You know Grissom, Greg is a Star Trek fan and I've watched a few episodes myself."

Grissom raised an eyebrow, as if to say that her comment just confirmed his point. Sara's eyebrows narrowed. "One of them thought I was hot and flirted with me."

"That's nice dear."

"That doesn't even make you the little bit jealous?"

Grissom didn't even bother to think about the answer. "No. What does a female Star Trek fan who works for the Star Trek Experience have that I don't? Besides, I never thought you had an interest in women. Is there something I should know?"

Sara sighed. Grissom had effectively killed her good mood. For his sins, no sex tonight... though cuddling was not out of the question yet. Grissom was a surprisingly good cuddler.

Across town, Mary Sue's day continued to go not so well. The Las Vegas Police had not blown her cover because they had not bothered to look into her background too deeply at this point. They had told her to stay around as her whereabouts during the deceased time of death were still not confirmed by evidence and none of her co-workers claimed to have seen her. Part of the reason was that the person who could confirm that she was not around the dead guy was not going to speak up. At the time, the two had been casually chatting about a shipment of Israeli laser type weapons that were being shipped to Darwin. That was not the sort of thing you wanted to casually inform the police of if you wanted your terrorist cell to remain undiscovered. The situation was complicated by the fact that, according to her Australian sources, the dead Borg was part of another cell operating out of Las Vegas. The cell's in this particular branch were not aware of each other by design, to ensure all their safety. It was just their luck that the Federal Police had only discovered that after the guy was dead. Making things even more complicated, they did not have the manpower to watch his known associates. Her government wasn't willing to inform the Americans of this latest plot development because after 911 and the Patriot Act, they did not trust the Americans to be discrete.

It was for this reason that Mary Sue Smith was sitting the science fiction bookstore owned by Kirk McCoy, Australian expat, terrorist cell leader and Star Trek fan who thought Jean Luc Picard was the best captain. A few discrete conversations with his fellow terrorist cell members had revealed that he was the killer. Mary Sue had cracked the case long before the Americans of the Las Vegas Police. Now, she was forced to sit and watch his place until the extradition papers came through and her colleagues arrived from Los Angeles. They needed to move fast, lest they destroy their terrorist case against him by letting the Americans try him for murder. Despite her admiration of her own brilliance, it sucked to sit outside the bookstore at the mall because stake outs were boring.

She sat. And she sat. She sat and she waited. She kept a keen eye on the situation. She sat and waited some more. And then she sat some more.

Across town, two CSIs were busy copulating, despite some one's plan otherwise because a certain entomologist didn't display any jealousy at the thought of other people flirting with her. If Mary Sue had know about this, she would not have been amused.

Because six hours later, she was still sitting. Only this time, she was sitting outside Kirk McCoy's apartment building. Where she sat and she sat and she sat some more.

Eight hours after she had first sat down, her colleagues arrived, as did the extradition papers accusing Kirk McCoy of raping eleven women. This was news to him when Mary Sue's fellow agents brought him. The Australian government had been loathed to tip the press, the United States government, and the terror cell that they were on to him. He spent half a night in a Las Vegas's holding cell while a judge was found who would expedite his departure from the country. The murderer of a Borg in Las Vegas and a wanted terrorist cell leader was on a plane home by the time Sara Sidle got into work, processed finger prints from the dead Borg's body and ran them through AFIS. He was long gone when those prints that matched his turned up on key evidence.

Another set of prints were also found on key pieces of evidence, including a Borg costume, a piece of the scenery and make up that traced back to the dead Borg. The evidence offered up two suspects: Mary Sue Smith and Kirk McCoy. McCoy was guilty but Smith was accessible. And thus, Mary Sue was called down to the Las Vegas Police Department and found herself sitting opposite of Detective Vega and Sara Sidle.

"Can you explain how your finger prints ended up inside James Marchant's costume?"

"I can't. I really can't. See, I never put my hands on James Marchant or anywhere near James Marchant," Mary Sue replied rather smugly. She felt good. She felt really good. She had just helped to take a terrorist off the street and to save Australia. Making the situation even better, she was being interviewed by the lovely Sara Sidle. The only downside to her current situation was that her employers had not contacted the Las Vegas police as they were loathe to blow her cover. It shouldn't take too long though. They could be discrete when the situation called for her.

As Mary Sue's cover included being the lesbian she was, she decided to add a certain level of truthfulness to her statement. "See, I don't know if you know this, but James Marchant had the wrong equipment. I wouldn't be putting by hands inside his costume." That being said, Mary Sue turned to blow a kiss at Sara Sidle.

"You know, we're not talking about sex here. We're talking about some one being beaten to death," Sara said. She pursed her lips as she looked at Mary Sue.

"Well, I didn't do it. I know who did. You know who did. I can prove it, just not now."

Vega shifted in his chair. "Yeah. That's what they all say and most of the time, they did it." He gave Mary Sue a hard stare.

Mary Sue grumpily stared back. Being viewed as a serious murder suspect was a mood dampener. Save thousands of lives, yet get wrongly accused of murder. If she needed to kill some one to prevent a terrorist attack, she could and had done it. Being wrongly implicate just sucked.

"Look mate, I didn't do it. Take a serious look at the extradition that just went down and ask yourself why that was done so quickly with some one who is your murder suspect. You Americans are supposed to be smarter than you lot are letting on."

That statement caused Sara Sidle to smile. Mary Sue responded with a wink, before remembering now was not the time and certainly not the place. This was followed by a minute of tense silence. And then another minute.

"I can't really explain how my finger prints ended up there," Mary Sue said. "I initially lied when I said I was alone but I can't implicate the person I was with as I need that person to stay put until another case can be brought against that party."

Vega stood up, turned the chair around, and then sat back down, straddling it. "This involves the feds doesn't it? Except it can't be because this isn't how they operate."

Sara smiled again. Mary Sue bristled. The fact that the CSI seemed to be laughing at her made it hard to continue to lust after her. "Look, nothing is going to get resolved here, between us," Mary Sue motioned to include the room's three occupants. "So why don't you just put me in holding until people can get this sorted out. In the mean time, here is the number for my handler. Please, give them a call." With that, she stood up.

Sara kicked back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "Officer?" she called. "If you could escort Ms. Smith back to her cell..."

The officer came and did just that. When she was gone, Vega turned to look at Sara. "So, think she did it?"

"No. I think the Australian they extradited on rape charges did it. Our little Borg probably knows the how and whys of the murder. She's protecting people, probably Australian interests in the US?"

Vega nodded, indicating that her response made sense to him. "If she knows he did it, she put it together fast."

"It's possible she was monitoring him so she'd know what he was doing. Her whereabouts in the past day or so haven't been accounted for."

Vega nodded again, before standing up to leave. "We'll just see what happens in the next few days." He made an after you gesture. Sara then stood and left.

Four hours later, Vega was called into Undersheriff McKeen's office. McKeen quietly explained to him that the case was officially going to be listed as solved with the suspect in custody in another jurisdiction. The person they had in custody was going to be released shortly into the custody of Homeland Security. Vega was not to pursue the case further and all paperwork and evidence pertaining to the case was to be turned over to Homeland Security. When Vega questioned this, McKeen indicated he was not happy with this but he had no choice in the matter: The Feds took jurisdictional preference.

Vega left McKeen's office unsatisfied and unhappy. A good detective never liked to let go of a case when the guilty party was still out there. He got out his cell phone. "Hello? Sidle? Yeah, I need you to prepare the evidence from our case for transport as the case is changing jurisdictions. Yeah, it sucks but not much I can do about it. Yeah. Okay. That's fine. She'll be leaving in an hour or so in the custody of the Feds. Yeah. Catch you later than."

Shift ended and Sara wandered into Grissom's office, casually taking a seat in a chair on the other side of his desk. She waited a few seconds before discretely coughing to get Grissom's attention. "Shift's ended. You were giving me a ride home?"

"Okay...?" Grissom said questioningly. Sara continued to look at him expectantly. He took his glasses off and rubbed his nose. "Was there something else you needed?"

"No. No. Not really," Sara replied.

"Obviously, not true. Might as well hear about now instead of at home." He reached over to take her hand and hold it on his desk.

"You know how you always talk about following the evidence?"

"This has to do with your Star Trek case and Homeland Security taking over?" Sara had been staring at their joined hands. She quickly glanced up at Grissom, surprised that he had heard about that. "McKeen gave me a call. He thought I should know as your supervisor."

Sara sighed. Of course Grissom would have heard about it. "It's frustrating."

Grissom offered her a half smile. "It sucks." Sara nodded and Grissom continued on. "There is a certain symmetry with it though if you want to use a Star Trek metaphor. The victims of the Borg never got the justice they deserved either. And yet the death of one Borg may help those who fight against them."

Sara laughed. "Grissom, that's horrible, even for you. I didn't realize you knew that much about Star Trek."

Grissom offered her a crooked smiled. "Every man is entitled to a few secrets." Sara gave him a questioning look. Grissom ignored it. "Let's go home. We can watch Captain Kirk save the world and feel better."

"Sounds like a plan." With that, Sara stood up and walked around Grissom's desk to pull him into a stand position. She then placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for listening and being understanding."

"You're welcome." Sara let go of his hand. Grissom quickly shoved some paperwork into his briefcase and then followed Sara out the door, to the locker room so they could head home and do just that.