I own nothing of CSI. This fic is before Grissom and Sara have a relationship. It will grow throughout the story.

Thanks for reading

It's late afternoon on a Tuesday. Grissom stands in his quiet office looking over some photo's from a recent murder case. On the film is a woman, laid out on a large green comforter, her teeth can be seen through the gaping hole in her cheek. Another photo shows a long slash mark on her leg going from the top of her thigh down to her knee. It looks deep, angled as if someone meant to cut a peice of her flesh off.

Grissom stares at the photo thoughtfully.

Greg enters Grissoms office, "I have the results from the fingerprints we lifted from the murder scene yesterday."

Grissom looks up from the photo, "And?"

"It doesn't make any sense." Greg says as he moves to the left side of Grissom, "They all turned out to be Sara's prints. Every one of them."

Grissom raises his eyebrow, "What?"

"Swear to God. I ran them five times just to be sure." Greg leans his hip on the table, "Did she not wear gloves at the scene?"

"She always wears gloves." says Grissom as he stares at the results, "Have you shown these to anyone else?"

"Not yet." Greg moves to take the results back, Grissom holds tight to them.

"Let me talk to Sara. I'll see what is going on." Grissom says as he moves toward the door, "I'll get back to you Greg."

An hour later Sara is seated in Grissoms office. She looks flushed from being out in the cold winter air. Her head still covered in a black, wool cap. She smiles at Grissom as she rubs her hands together for warmth.

He is seated behind his desk. His eyes roving her beautiful face, "What did you do this weekend?"

Sara looks confused. She moves closer to his desk, "Is this a personal thing?"

He takes off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes, "No." he sits back, "Did you drink?"

Sara sits up in the chair, gently rubbing at her arm, "Yes. I had a few drinks with Greg on Sunday night. Remember, you told me to take someone along next time I needed a drink." she smiles lightly at him, "Just a friendly thing."

Grissom puts his glasses back on, "And then?"

She shakes her head, "He left. I stayed to have a few more drinks..."

"Why did Greg leave you there?" he is staring at her.

"He got a call. Something to do with his mom." she sits back in the chair.

"Why didn't you call me to come get you?" he asks now as he leans over his desk, "That was our deal, wasn't it?"

"I called a cab." she says quietly, "I didn't want to bother you."

"Next time bother me." he sighs, "Tell me how your prints got all over the recent hotel stabbing scene that you were on yesterday."

Sara shakes her head, "What?"

"You had gloves on, right?" he clasps his hands in front of him on the desk, "Right, Sara?"

"Of course." she moves to look at the results that Grissom is handing her, "That makes no sense."

"Are you sure you left the bar alone?" Grissom says as his fingers lightly touch her fingers, "Totally sure."

She hesitates.