Prologue

It wasn't often that the CSI team got to celebrate a case well solved; But after weeks of slowly picking their way through the evidence left behind by a child killer, they thought they deserved it.

They were at Nick's apartment, eating takeaway Chinese as a toast of victory. Squished around his table, they shared the late-night chinese and tried to cleanse the last case out of their system.

Sara pulled something indescribable out of something equally indescribable and grimaced.

"Please tell me this is a prawn."

Grissom looked at it. "Looks like mackerel to me".

"That or a piece of toenail." Greg said through his noodles.

"Eww," she said, pushing it away and going for the boiled rice.


There.

You see her through the window.


Greg cocked his head. "Do you hear that?"

Catherine pulled a face. "That's Nick singing. He's in the shower."

Greg listened for a moment, then winced.

Grissom put his head on the side, a thoughtful expression on his face. "He's not that bad..."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Sure. And in a completely unrelated question, when was the last time you checked your hearing?"

Greg snickered at the affronted look on Grissom's face, then quickly reached over and stole Warricks's prawns.

Nick emerged in a cloud of steam a couple of minutes later, looking mournfully at the dregs of Chinese scattered over his table.

"You didn't leave any, did you?" he said sadly.

Warrick peeked under the table. "Oh, I think I dropped some. You want it?"

Nick looked down his nose at Warrick's grin, stalking to the fridge and grabbing a beer.

"Hey, you want to watch the game?" he asked, tossing a beer to Warrick and peering at the TV screen. Greg had dug the remote out of the police files scattered through the room and was flicking through.

Warrick perked up. "Sure. I hear the Yankees-"

He was cut off by Catherine groan.

Grissom watched his CSI team before him. Catherine and Sara, talking quietly in the way only women know how, while Greg and Nick bickered. Warrick watched with faint amusement.

He was glad his team looked relaxed. They had had little chance for it over the last week.

Few things were worse than a serial killer, but one who murdered children was perhaps the most horrific. They had all invested so much in their last case. Nick and Catherine bore matching sets of dark circles under their eyes, while Greg's eyes were already drooping.

But Sara was worrying him the most.

He turned slighly as she started to gather up the paper plates from the table. There was a closed expression on her face as she stacked the plates, mind elsewhere.

With Lesley Gordon, the body she'd found.

He picked up the empty glasses and followed her to the counter as the rest migrated towards the TV.

"You alright?" he asked quietly.

"What?" she blinked distractedly, then shook her head. "No, I'm fine." She looked away quickly, scrapping the scraps of the plates.

He said nothing, watching the quick movements of her hands.

She caught him looking, and the corner of her mouth quirked.

"I'm fine, Grissom."

He grabbed her wrist, holding it still.

But her hand kept shaking.

"Somehow, I don't think so."

She look down and her quivering fingers.

"It's just..." He let go of her wrist, and she looked up at him.

Her voice was quiet.

"That was a horrible way to die."


Your breathe hisses, steaming in the night air.
She's oblivious.

But not for long.


Nick had wrestled the remote off Greg, and started flicking through to find the sports channel.

He paused on CNN.

"-The child molester and murderer Jason Elliot has at last-"

There was sudden quiet. Grissom turned and watched as the images of the ten dead children shone on screen.

Lesely Gordon smiled from the screen, and Grisson felt Sara twitch.

Her face was pretty, clean and young. Very different to the face that had stared hollowly at Sara from the half finished grave.

"Turn it over." Catherine's voice was harsh.

Nick shook himself slightly, then started changing channels.

The light, easy mood of the room had evaporated, leaving a sour taste to the air.

Nick paused on the movie channel, just in case it was action or something equally distracting.

Nope. Secret Window.

"Ooh!" Catherine and Sara said together, eyes going wide at the sight of Johnny Depp.

"I don't get you chicks." said Nick, changing channel (and the thoughts of the room). "What's so great about Johnny Depp?"

"He's hunky." Sara said, eyes glazed.

Catherine didn't reply, a dreamy smile on her face.

Nick looked from one to the other, disbelieving. "What does Johnny Depp have that a guy like me doesn't?"

Catherine snapped back to reality. "Allure."

"Mystery." Sara chipped in.

"REALLY nice abs-"

"I have nice abs!" Nick said hotly.

Warrick smacked him with a pillow and stole the remote.

"Ow." Nick muttered.

"You're never going to win." Greg said, making himself comfortable on Nick's sofa.

"Why?"

"Johnny Depp is like Angelina Jolie." Warrick scowled as Secret Window flicked up again.

"Ah."

Catherine looked at her watch.

"Crap, I have to get back, the babysitter's going to be pissed."

"Is this the kid next door?" Sara scooped up Catherine's jacket and handed it to her.

"Yup. Her boyfriend's a rocker." she said, as this was all explanation needed to explain the babysitter.

Sara decided not to mention dating a rocker once, and after a glance at the room decided it was time for her to go too. Warrick had finally found the sports channel and the boys were now engrossed. Even Grissom was watching, though he looked as though he was trying to work out what the hell was going on.

Besides, she felt like she needed to sit and think for a while. Best to slip out while Grissom was distracted.

"Bye." Catherine said as she opened the door.

A grunt from Nick (maybe) was all she got as a reply. She and Sara shared an eye roll and they left quietly.

"What is it with men and sports?" she said in disgust.


There she is.

Now?

Not Now.

You watch her move; watch her talk to the other lady.

You see that look, see her enigma.

Such secrets hidden behind those eyes.

Now?

Not now.

She moves towards her car, just around the corner.

You can see those hairline cracks in her, the ones they don't seem to see.

You want to crack them open, and see what she hides.

She sudden stops, listening.


Sara felt an odd prickling along her spine. She stopped, listening.


What are those lines again?

"She let him look, sure that he wouldn't see...Blind creature..."

She walks again. Faster now, back rigid.

Uneasy.

Now?

…Now.


She never saw him coming.