Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them. A cup of Joe with George and Jorja would be nice, however.
Confluence:(n.) The act of flowing together; the meeting or junction of two or more streams; the place of meeting.
(n.) Any running together of separate streams or currents; the act of meeting and crowding in a place; hence, a crowd; a concourse; an assemblage.
As the acrid smell hit her nostrils, Catherine Willows felt a wave of nausea hit her full force. Letting out something between a curse and a whimper, she glanced Sara Sidle's direction momentarily before running outside the house they were in the middle of processing.
Sara had a perplexed expression on her face as she watched Catherine flee. The odor in the room was a bit overpowering, but as CSIs they had smelled worse. She turned her attention back to the carpet she was hunched over as she continued to look for stray fibers. She wasn't sure how much time had elapsed, but when Catherine still hadn't returned, she became concerned. She stowed the few bindles with the fibers she'd collected into her kit and stood up, making her way outside the house. As she stood on the porch, she glanced around looking for Catherine, finally spying her leaning up against her Denali.
Catherine forced a smile onto her face as Sara approached. "Sorry, that smell just got to me all of a sudden."
Sara looked at her a bit quizzically. "You doing ok, Cath?" It wasn't like the veteran CSI to lose her stomach contents at a murder scene.
Catherine's expression belied her churning stomach. "I'm sure I'll be fine." She winced suddenly as she felt another wave of nausea wash over her and she turned away from Sara as she threw up again.
Sara put her hand on Catherine's back in a comforting gesture. "Cath, you should be at home in bed if you're sick."
As much as she wanted to argue, Catherine knew that Sara was right. The last thing she wanted was to contaminate a crime scene because she was too stubborn to admit she wasn't well enough to continue.
"I can call Nick." Sara suggested.
"It's his night off; he's probably on a date." Catherine wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood upright and turned around to face Sara.
Sara smirked. "I have it on good authority that he's just at home painting his spare bedroom."
Catherine raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Warrick was giving him a hard time about it at breakfast after shift yesterday." Sara informed her, concern still evident on her face.
Catherine smiled softly at her younger coworker. She knew that the three younger CSIs spent much of their off time together, and she was glad that it seemed that Sara was returning to more of her old self than she'd been in far too long. "You know, I'm not going to argue with you, I feel like crap." That answer was only half of the truth. It was the other half of the truth that was making her feel even sicker, but for the moment, she was going to keep that to herself.
Sara pulled her cell phone off of her belt and punched in Nick's number. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she heard a voice on the other end. "While I'm sure you're having the time of your life getting flecks of Oceanic Blue stuck in your hair, I need your help." She just rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "Catherine's sick and needs to go home and I need help processing the rest of the scene." Sara glanced over at her coworker who had a slightly odd expression on her face. "Crescent Drive just past the corner of Star Dust Avenue." She rolled her eyes again. "Yes. No. Yes." Sara let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. "Fine." With that she ended the call and looked over at Catherine.
The smile on Catherine's face was smug. "So, he's coming then?" There was much implied in her tone.
Sara brushed it off. "Yeah, he just need to put the paint brushes and rollers in the freezer." She continued when Catherine raised an eyebrow. "It keeps the paint from drying, so all he'll have to do is thaw them out when he gets home."
Catherine smiled to cover up yet another wave of nausea. "I suppose I should call Grissom and let him know I'm leaving."
"I hope you feel better." Sara knit her brows together.
Catherine studied her for a moment. "Uh, Sara, do me a favor."
"Ok." Sara regarded her curiously.
"Stay out here until Nick gets here since PD is gone." Catherine's mind flashed back to a previous case she'd worked when she'd sent an officer outside and she'd been attacked by a suspect that was still on the scene; Catherine had experienced nightmares for weeks.
"Catherine, I'll be fine." Sara began to protest.
"Humor me." Catherine had a serious expression on her face. "I'll pull rank if I have to."
Sara looked a bit annoyed, but nodded. "Ok, I'll wait in my vehicle." She remembered that after she'd investigated Warrick for leaving Holly Gribbs on the scene by herself where the rookie CSI had been shot and had later died, that Catherine had been very protective of the case. She took Catherine's concern to heart, suddenly remembering that Catherine herself had been attacked once.
"I'll see you tomorrow night." Catherine lifted her hand as she stepped towards the driver's door of her vehicle.
Sara stood there, arms across her chest as she watched her go, finally climbing into her own vehicle to wait for Nick. She put the key in the ignition and turned it far enough so that she could turn the radio on. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there as she sang along with a song on the radio lost in thought when she heard a tap at her window. Startled, she jumped a little and then glanced out the window where a smiling Nick Stokes stood. She smirked, shaking her head as she pulled the keys out of the ignition and descended from the SUV. "You scared me."
Nick raised an eyebrow. "I went inside and I didn't see you. I was worried." He looked at her a bit concerned.
"Catherine made me promise to wait in the car." Sara explained gesturing towards the interior of her Denali before shutting the door. She noticed flecks of paint in his hair and chuckled softly.
He shot her a bemused glance.
"You have paint in your hair." She smirked in an effort to keep from smiling too widely as they made their way back into the house.
He chuckled. "Well, I was painting when you called me." He really hadn't been enjoying his home improvement project all that much either, so when Sara had called, he was glad for the interruption.
Sara gestured to where Catherine had been working. "You've got the kitchen."
Nick nodded, immediately putting himself in work mode as he walked into the room. A pungent odor assaulted his senses and he felt his eyes and nose immediately react. "Whoa, this place reeks, no wonder Catherine felt sick."
"I've smelled worse." Sara called out from the other room.
"Yes you have." Nick couldn't resist teasing her. They had gotten a very memorable decomp and Sara had smelled for the entire shift they'd worked until she'd finally given up and bought some lemons to scrub the smell out of her pores.
"Not funny." Sara retorted from where she was laying prone on the carpet shining a light underneath the sofa.
"You have to admit it was a little funny." Nick called back as he lifted the lid on the trash can and looked inside, wincing not only at the smell, but at the sight before him, as he cursed under his breath. "I can't believe how sick some people can be."
"What is it?" Sara stopped what she was doing and glanced towards the kitchen.
Nick winced again and then looked over at Sara with concern etched on his face. "We've got another victim."