Disclaimer: I own nothing...

Hey, happy new year to everyone. I have been watching too many soap ophra re-runs and this came in to my head. This has character death.

x

The two of them moved in the light, swift and silvery. Catherine laughed It was an irresistible impulse. She shook her mane, her lavish colours tickling her chin. Gil turned his head towards his co-worker, friend as they walked down the hallway, past ballistics.
"What?"
"You're smiling."
Gil's eyebrows knotted with confusion, "So?"
"You never smile."
"Yes, I do."
"On a Saturday?" The two CSI's entered his office that always seemed to be tinged with a cold blue. Gil ignored Catherine's statement as he flitted with some papers on his desk that Ecklie had left, completely disorganising the logical mess.
"Do you think everyone might want to go out for breakfast or something?" Catherine's eyes narrowed and she pouted her pearl pink lips.
"What?"
"Something's up." She turned towards the door and paused underneath the plastic fish. "Something's really up.
"Go back to your case Catherine."
"I'm going. I'm going…but something's really up." Gil feigned ignoring her, and pretended to read what Ecklie had sent him.
"I'll find out." She threatened.
"Mmm." Catherine placed her hands on her hips
"You disagreeing with me?"
"Disagree with you? No, I am smarter than that."
Catherine walked out of his office in an exceedingly elegant fashion, smiling. She was only a few meters gone when she called back,
"I'll find out."

For Sara, the New Year was not looming. She felt as though she had opened a door to a magical and mysterious world of weightlessness and come midnight all she would have to do is step through the door. "Hey Greg. Hey Warrick. Nice boots." They were tanned and had a bright garish glow in the locker room light and Warrick was lacing them up.
"How was court?" She shrugged and looked down on to the floor. She had a case, a large meth lab, huge dealers and massive players in supplying Las Vegas's addicts. Several people had been shot, including a woman holding her baby. Sara had been a witness and she hated having the memory of having to pour her bottle of water on to a baby because it was covered in its own mother's blood. Greg was the first to see Sara hiding her small, smile but it got bigger as she knew Greg was staring at her.
"I guess from the smile from your face that a few people won't be seeing the strip for a long time."
"A very long time." Sara's smile was voluptuous and desirable. It was desirable because it was made up of untainted happiness.
"Well you take care of yourself. Cassius and his gang, they, uh, knew people."
"Yeah, I know Warrick. Brass has got people watching my house." She paused as she fished an envelope out of her bag.
"Have you seen Grissom?"
"Try his office. You're not gonna miss the fireworks?" questioned Greg.
"Fireworks?"
"Yeah, rumour has it that Ecklie was visited by three ghosts over the holidays," Sara and Warrick gave a short laugh.
"So, everyone gets a break at ten to eleven," Warrick checked his watch and then scratched his wrist as if it was irritating him "which is…in about ten minuets so I am gonna go grab Catherine. See you two outside."

"Grissom? You in?" His office had a slippery seduction to it. It was morbid and beautiful. "Nope, you're not in." She placed her envelope on the desk. She placed the worn book next to it and smiled. It was a few minuets to midnight. She didn't mind if she missed the count down but she still quickened her pace.

Come on, you only have another two minuets. Stupid Ecklie. Catherine looked at her watch.
"You need to be somewhere?" Warrick came up behind her.
"No, I am happy right here with you."
Hodges turned around at Catherine and Warrick, he gave them a look that reminded the CSI's of a rat or a snake, maybe even a cross breed between a rat and a snake. When he turned around to applause Ecklie and his precious fireworks with the rest of the L.V.P.D, Catherine stuck her pink, pixie tongue out. Warrick smiled and his slipped his hand around Catherine's. His Christmas present to Catherine was a copy of his divorce papers, signed and sealed.
"Hey guys,"
"Hey Nick."
"Hey Nickie. Everything okay?"
"Yeah…" Nick looked rather annoyed, and he was strained his toes to get better height.
"What's wrong then?"
"You can't see anything from here. I am gonna find a better spot. See you guys back inside."
Sara stepped out P.D's front entrance as the first fountain of colour opened. She scanned the crowd for the face she loved so much only to find that he was searching to. Gil raised his left arm to attract Sara's attention. She matched his signal and he started walking to her. Grissom watched Sara come over, the colours of the fireworks reflecting in his glasses. He saw someone, two large men walk into her, not even pausing. Her smiled had turned in to a silent grunt face, her eyes wincing slightly. Sara looked back the two dark silhouettes that had shoved in to her, pushing her with their stride. Sara felt as though floating in a timeless fantasy and everything became exquisitely real. She stumbled in her heals. Grissom parted through the crowd to greet Sara. She was still hovering near the entrance to P.D. She was slightly bent over and she straightened up, breathing hard as she heard her name being called over the screams and bangs. Sara felt hot wetness trickle down her left breast and meandering down her torso, clinging to her black sweater. It was hot, arterial blood pour, shooting out. Sara bent to look at her wound. At first she thought she had been shot, it would have been easy to cover it up, even without a silencer. Stab wound and her mind flashed back. When the men had walked in to her had felt a blow and a twist. She could feel her blood was spraying everywhere.
"Hey Sara," he noticed her sweaty face, coral lips trembling and her legs caved in and she fell in to him like a domino. The earth pulled her to the ground and she took the entomologist with her. He looked down at his jacket and there was a large stain, slightly warm. Gil pressured his tanned hands over her wound. Her blood was like black dye in the raining colours. His fingers kept slipping over the flooding wound, her blood, her life force kept coming like a waterfall of wine or vinegar. He crushed his right hand down hard as his left stumbled in to his pocket. Nick, as much as he like fireworks, was bored. Fireworks were supposed to special and Ecklie sucking up to his workers with fireworks sucked the majestic element of the fireworks and that just…sucked. He turned and it took a few seconds for the image to be registered and form his brain to order his legs to run. Gil was being dragged to the floor by something. Sara.
"Oh ma Gowd." He unclipped his cell from his belt. "THIS IS NICK STOKES, I NEED AN AMBULANCE. NOW! LVPD. NORTH TROP BOULEVARD…" He feet slid across the tarmac and he skidded down to Gil and Sara. Gil was relived to see Nick and he applied both his hands, trying to slow the blood. Nick stood back up, with his cell phone still in his hand.
"WARRICK!" With Nick's holler, half of the staff turned around and saw the spectacle and more heads turned when others. Lab techs, detectives, CSI's all of them began staring. Warrick shoved his way through the crowd. There was a dramatic definition of the situation and Brass and Warrick had started shoving everyone back inside the building, through a different entrance. Catherine pressing down on Sara's wound with her scarf, screaming to Gil that she couldn't stop it. Grissom's still slippery hands were clamping on to Sara's. A hoarse hysterical yet muted crying rippled though Catherine; she was losing a friend and her hands were smeared with blood. As Catherine looked for the ambulance, a large black or blue van drove away and screamed to Brass. He gave his orders and half of P.D flashed in to their cars. All the atoms in the air, the molecules that made up the road, everything became slow, luminous, languid and dreamy.Small acidic tears spilled down over Sara face. She was badly wounded and frail. Sara had with muted understanding of her fate: she was going to die here. She had wanted to see the sun set in Barbados or look at the frescos in Florence and she had fought to keep going. She looked at Grissom and he came quiet close to losing his mind. He knew she was giving up.
"SARA! DON'T YOU DARE! SARA YOU'RE TOO STUBBORN!" His eyes were savage and terrifying.
Her fingers gripped to him, but soften as she soften. He brushed her hair with his blooded fingers and then covered her hand with his again. Her hand was cold. Her rubbed his right hand against his denim jeans, trying to scrap away the blood. He was ignoring Catherine. He felt as though he senses and mind had gone and he and Sara were floating in space. He extended his index finger and forefinger and stroked her cheek and there was a divine silkiness and softness in his touch. Sara was suspended in Grissom's sadness. She didn't want to see this.
"Grissom," Grissom felt he had to follow the sound of it for a moment before any words came through.
"Yes?"
"Smile." The thrilling ripple in her voice created a wild tonic in his rioting heart. Her request was like something from a forgotten dream. His lips spread simplistically. Sara locked on him, her eyes so full of happiness. Sara could see blue lights flashing at once side of Gil's face. The sirens crashed and thundered in to his aged face.
"Thank you…" her voice broke apart beyond repair, croaking as she smiled. Her head fell backwards only slightly as Gil felt Sara go soft, becoming completely limp. Her mouth seemed torn at the edges, as if her soul had escaped. Grissom dropped the limpid hand. It was a body.
"No, Sara, you stupid bitch!" Catherine brought her right hand down, followed by her left, raining on Sara's chest. "SARA!" She screamed her name the face, demanding a reaction.
"Catherine your not supposed to touch the body." Catherine stopped for a moment but just slammed her hand more.Gil just observed, in a state of shock. He didn't stop her. He didn't restrain her. Warrick did. Catherine screamed her agony to the stars, as she was dragged away, but they were deaf to her burning liquid pain. Warrick held her tight while couple of dry sobs escaped his own throat. He watched the paramedics for a few seconds, then his eyes swerved to Nick. His eyes were choking on the sight. Warrick noticed how his cell phone was smashed open on the floor. Greg was sat on a wall. He had been invisible the whole time.

It was a clear day and there was a dying wind. It was a large group, but with limited females, one of them had a police office stood next to them. His badge showed that he was from San Francisco. The casket only had one set of flowers, a central piece of white lilies and red roses. "Oh, God of grace and glory. We remember before you this day, our sister, Sara." Catherine wore dark shades; it had been a long time since she had wore no eye make-up. Single tears dribbled down her face and she turned into Warrick if she thought her tears would become floods. Warrick hand placed all the strength of his sadness into holding Catherine's hand. "Give us faith to see in death the gate of eternal life so that in quiet confidence we can continue our courses on earth." Nick and Greg stood with their heads slightly tilted down, occasionally sniffing. Nick nearly gave up in being in control so Catherine had slipped her other hand in to Nick's. Brass was stood in his green polished uniform. He thought that, if ever Elle got herself out of drugs, she would be something like Sara.The casket was being slowly lowered down in to the earth.
"We commend to almighty God our sister Sara Sidle and we commit her body to the ground." Gil finally looked at the coffin.
"Earth to earth... ashes to ashes... and dust to dust."He looked at the line of people next to him. He wanted to die next. He had almost lost Nick too many times, Greg in an explosion, Catherine had to defend herself against a murderer. Sara had had a broken clay handle at her jugular. Gil didn't want to be around the next time almost something happened.
"May the Lord bless her and keep her."
There were still frighteningly mundane waves of trauma left in the wake of Sara death. He looked across the flowers to see someone he assumed was Sara's mother. Same facial structure and wispy brown hair tinted with grey. She stared back at him and gave him a small, single nod. He didn't see again.
"The Lord makes his face to shine upon her and be gracious to her. The Lord lift up his countenance upon her... and give her peace."

Gil stood still at his office doorway. He pressed the light switch and was blinded for a second. On his desk there were two things that had not been there a three weeks ago. One was a large brown package and the other was an envelope. He sat down and unwrapped the heavy parcel. It was a thick rectangle of glass with a dull gold badge and a plate with 'Sara Sidle' carved in to it. Gil couldn't imagine Sara framing something on her wall, he couldn't imagine her walking in from work and looking at a medal or certificate every day that remind her of her courage and incorruptibility? All she would need for that is a mirror. He put it back down on his desk and took the envelope. He dropped the letter, reconising the swirls of letters. His hands were shaking.

Merry Christmas. Sorry it's late. There are somany translations to Dante's first sonnet of La Vita Nuova and I didn't know which one, if any, you have, so I just picked this one. I remember you telling me about it on a case.The book is also for you, divine comedy; maybe this will make you smile.

Sara

His eyes moved slowly over the sonnet, it something he had heard a long time ago and he read it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it.
…The time that every star shines down on us
When Love appeared to me so suddenly
That I still shudder at the memory.
Joyous Love seemed to me, the while he held
My heart within his hands, and in his arms
My lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil...
He woke her then and trembling and obedient
She ate that burning heart out of his hand;
Weeping I saw him then depart from me…

He remembered too...

"Grissom, you can't believe a man could become obsessed with a female from a single encounter?"
"Sara... Everyday, could he be hungry for her and then find nourishment at the sight, touch and sound of her?"
"I don't know. Besides stalkers and murders, who do you know who is like that?"
"Someone I know aswell myself."