CSI: Federal Involvement
Disclaimer: If Iowned CSI or anything associated with it other than the DVDs, I wouldn't be compelled to write this, now would I?
Summary: G/S Sara finally gets fed up with Grissom's games, and the whole she leaves behind will bring the rest of the team through hell and back. -set after eppy 514: Unbearable-
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'No way!' Nic squealed.
'Yes'
'I don't believe it... Sofia'
'Yeah, man. This morning after shift. Heard it when I passed by his office on my way out,' Warrick afirmed.
Catherine snickered. 'No woman should be subjected to that office'
'Man,' Nick sighed. 'Sara's gonna be pissed.'
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The conversation still rang in Sara's ears. They'd had no idea that she'd overheard the conversation and she intended to keep it that way, but it made her wonder: was she always the last one to know everything?
Sitting on the couch in her apartment living room, she took another sip from her long-necked bottle and pondered the situation. So much had happened in her now 5 years in Vegas, from the flirting to Hank to Teri Miller to her DUI, and their most recent encounter, the reliving of her childhood nightmare. Rumors had flown through the lab whispering news of Warrick's gambling, Catherine's father, and Nick's stalker. Sara had chosen to disregard those concerning Grissom's indiscretion with Lady Heather, hoping to God that they were false, but now with the rumors flying again, she didn't know what to believe.
'It's probably nothing,' she chided herself. 'Warrick probably just heard wrong. Besides, he wouldn't go out with me. Why would he go out with that scum-sucking ho-bag?'
'But then again,' whispered a voice in the back of her mind, 'she didn't ask him. He asked her, and that puts a whole new spin on things, doesn't it?'
Sara mentally shook herself for giving into the temptation of believing the gossip. Afer all, they'd been wrong before, right?
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Grissom sat in his office looking over what had now become known as "the Bentley bust." The red fibers from the trunk, the plant pods from the tree, and the rest of the evidence had all ben sent to the vault and the date for the preliminary hearing had been set. The DA was pleased with the team's hard work, and so was Grissom. He was proud of them. Despite the chaos that had followed the staff changes, they'd handled their cases with ease and professionalism, helping to make as smooth a transition as possible. Even Sara was doing better since her return from suspension.
Sara. With the thought of her name, Grissom's mind raced back to the night at her apartment. Pictures of her curled up in her chair and sobbing as she relived thepast that haunted her rushed to the forefront of his memory. He couldn't get her out of his head.. The thought of her being abused and violated haunted his dreams, but even more so did the daunting question: Why hadn't he noticed it before?
Of course there had been signs. He hadn't wanted to accept them, knowing what that would mean. He hadn't wanted to believe them, but they were there. The time he had to restrain her from physically assaulting the abusive husband of a victim; the night she'd cried in his office, grieving for the young rape victim who would remain in a vegetative state for the rest of her life; the home invasion case that had turned into a gang rape, and later, a murder because the girl was too afraid to identify her attacker; and finally, the straw that broke the camal's back, the mail order brides used, in Sara's words as "punching bags" for their dominating American husbands. At first, Grissom had read the signs wrong, thinking that she was on the brink of burnout, but after the incident with Catherine and Ecklie, he knew there was something deeper, and it troubled him.
The picture of a broken-spirited Sara once again occupied his thoughts. 'How had it come to this?' he wondered. Se had come to Vegas full of life, and now it seemed to have all but gone, leaving her a shell of who she was. A heaviness set on his heart wen he realized how much he missed her, and right then and there, he made a silent vow to end the hurt and bring back the Sara he had fallen in love with all those years ago.Sara walked into the lab with a smile that hse hoped looked more confident than she felt. She wanted to believe that nothing had changed since her episode with Catherine, but the growing intensity in the atmosphere as she felt several sets of eyes upon her told her that everything was different. Walking onward, she made her way toward the locker room.
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Sara walked into the lab with a smile tha she hoped looked more confident than she felt. She wanted to believe that nothing had changed since her episode with Catherine, but the rowing intensity inthe atmosphere as she felt several sets of eyes upon her told her that everything was different. Walking onward, she made her way to the locker room.
She was stopped, however, by the voices coming from the nearby DNA lab. If she had heard correctly... no, she couldn't have. She thought she had just heard Greg ask Sofia how her date with Grissom had gone. Trying not to make it completly obvious that she was eavesdropping, Sara strained to hear the conversation through the glass wall.
"Oh, come on!" Greg was saying. "At least tell us where you went!"
"Alright, alright... He took me to his townhouse, and-"
"Wait a minute," Mia interrupted. "He took you to his house and cooked for you!"
"Yeah. This great veggie pasta dish. It turned out excellent."
"And the rest of the night?" Greg probed.
"The rest of the night is none of your business! We just-"
Sara couldn't stand it anymore. Spinning on her heel, she headed back to the locker room, keeping her head down so no one would see the tears trailing a path down her face. Grabbing her things, she got in her car and left the lab, a place that had once offered hope and shelter, but no longer held any joy for her apart from the people that she loved.
Once she hit the highway. she pulled out her cell phone and a business card, dialing the long distance number on the bottom. After three rings, someone finally picked up.
"Yes," Sara answered. "Rick Culpepper, please."
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The next night, Grissom walked into the break room for assignments and immediately sensed something wrong, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His concern was echoed a moment later when Greg asked,
"Where's Sara?"
"Yes, where is she? We were supposed to be finishing a B & E." Sofia crossed the room, coffee in hand. Setting one cup in frint of Grissom, she took a seat beside him.
"The final paperwork for that case was left on my desk, so it's been taken care of," Grisom told her. "And as for Sara's absense, it's her day off. Maybe she decided to take one for a change." Hoping that his response was convincing enough, he continued with assignments. "Things are light tonight. You two are looking into a419 in Henderson. Teenage party gone wild with suspected drugs and alcohol use. Brass is covering asic crowd control, but be sure to get pictures of everyone at the scene."
He watched as the two made to leave, and after a moment he looked down at his hands, feeling Sara's absense stronger than ever. But even through the emptiness, he suddenly realized that he wasn't alone. Looking up, he saw that Greg had stayed behind.
"What is it, Greg?"
He hesitated. "Well, I just..."
When he stopped, Grissom once again got the feeling that the young new CSI was afraid of him. "Spit it out, Greg."
"Are you sure Sara's okay?"
"I'm sure she's fine. Like I said, she probably decided to take her night off."
"Oh, come on, Grissom! You know as well as I do that Sara always comes in on her days off, and on top of that, she takes double shifts! Not to mention a week's suspension would have killed her. She'd be itchin' to come back and you know it!"
Greg's outburst startled Grissom, and though he knew Greg was right, he fought to keep an impassive face. "Worrying won't do anybody any good, Greg. She's probably fine. Go take care of your case; it'll take your mind off things. Then, after shift, you can do whatever you want."
With that, Grissom brushed past him and headed towards her office as quickly as possible so that no one would see the worry in his eyes. Closing the door,behind him, he sat at his desk and tried to clear his mind. Instead, it suddenly hit him how ironic the situation was. He'd told Greg not to worry, but in all actuality, when he looked at it logically, he had every reason to worry. Greg was right: Sara never took a night off. The only time he ever remembered her taking one, he had called her in anyway to take the canabalized cheerleader case, and she'd been pissed. She never took off holidays; having no one to spend them with, she usually requested to work so that others could be at homewith their loved ones. Much like Grissom, she didn't understand people, so she lost herself in the job. She even came in when she was sick.
Feeling the chasm in his heart growing deeper by the second, he used the process of elimination and realized that left only two possibilities: either she'd been fired or she'd left. Knowing that there had to be some realy serious issues or some damn good competition for the first one to even be possible, he racked his brain to find a reason stong enough for her to leave.
It wasn't trust; he was positive they'd settled that issue. She couldn't have found another guy; she didn't have the time, seeing as she now spent every waking moment buried in the job. Much of the Las Vegas lifestyle disgusted her, so it was unlikely she had gone anywhere else in the city. She wouldn't go back to San Fransisco, not with all the pain associated with the surrounding area. No, Sara liked to distance herself from her problems. That in itself suggested the east coast. Boston, perhaps?
Grissom put his head down on the desk. This was giving him a headache... no, a migraine. Deciding to take the rest of the night off, he glanced at the clock. It was 3:08, well into shift, but if anything came up Sofia could take over if need be. Grabbing his jacket, he walked quickly toward the parking lot via the front exit. Judy stopped him at the front desk.
"Mr. Grissom?"
He turned. "Yes?"
"You have some mail." She held out a single slender envelope.
"Leave it on my desk. I'll read it when I get a chance." He turned to go, but was halted when he heard her voice call out again. "It's marked urgent..." Her voice trailed as she continued to hold out the letter.
Sighing, Grissom reached forward and took the letter, mumbling a hurried "Thank you," while stufing it into his breast pocket and continuing his trek to the Denali. He tried to ignore his nagging curiosity as he climbed into the driver's seat, even tried rubing his temples to ease the pounding ache, but to no avail. The envelope seemed to burn a holein his chest, flaming with inside knowledge and steaming with secrets until he pulled it out, if only to ebb the crashing waves of guilt, curiosity,a nd frustration.
Looking down at the paper in his hands, his breath caugh in his throat when he recognized the familiar scrawl. Ripping it open,he snatched out the paper within, smooting the creases as he unfolded it, revealing a short hand-written note. Emotion surged through him as he scanned the tear-stained mesage, and the not-so-neatly scrawled signiture that struck a chord within him.
Questions swarmed in his brain like a hive full of buzzing bees. Likewise, his emotions wreaked havoc within him. First confusion, then helplesness, anger, frustration, giult,a d the deepest sadness he had ever known when he realized that she was gone and it was most likely his fault. Gazing back at the page, he read:
Dear Grissom,
I'm sorry to have to leave like this, but it's the only way I know how. I had to put distance between myself and Vegas before it got any worse.
I've said before that our relationship was complicated and I know it's my fault, but whatever I did to make you hate me, I am truely sorry.Imade a mistake... I trusted you with the one thing I've never told anyone else and I thought you cared.
Well, I won't be in your way anymore. Maybe with me gone, you can enjoy whatever relationship with Sofia you might have had if you'd never met me.
Goodbye, Grissom. Enjoy your freedom, and tell the others I will miss them.
Sara
"With life traveling at 100 miles per hour, maybe one day you'll find the time to say I love you." -Anonymous
The letter slipped from his fingers as reality set in, wrenching his heart from his chest. She thought it was her fault, that he didn't care. What's worse, she thought that he hated her... God, how could she possibly think that? So much had happened between them, and just because he couldn't express it didn't mean that he didn't love her. What had he done?
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