Disclaimer: They are not mine - damn sad thing too I suspect.

That said this is so far from beta'd it may well resemble a kindergartener's first work. Forgive me. Again impatience has gotten the better of me. Though this chapter may not reflect it - THIS IS GSR. It will be a darker fic, but bear with me, I will do good by you. Promise. Finally this takes place before GSR is canon.

I upped the rating on this because of one swear word, and implied sex. It also disappeared off the server so I am not sure what it up so hopefully it will pop back up after this.

Crippling reality

Chapter 1

By: Nightblight

Christmas Morning 2006 : 6:20 am

Slim cool fingers rested on sanitary white bed sheets. At the moment they were clasped around another hand similar in length and form, yet thinner and paler than the one doing the holding. At the foot of the bed, stood a man in a white lab coat wearing a deeply contrasting set of institutional green scrubs. His eyes were tired, his expression even more so, the two day old scruff telling of how long it had been since he'd actually had the opportunity to visit the shower. He was into his fourth shift, having covered for the daytime doctor who was out sick with the latest rendition of the flu. Exhaustion was an understatement; bone weary would be more apt.

The woman on the bed, though not really old, looked well beyond her 62 years; the better part of her aging having happened over the last two years of her battle with terminal lung cancer. Smoking had been her only vice and it was the one thing, in the end, which had managed to stomp out her insatiable need to survive. And make no mistake about it. She was a survivor.

Squeezing her fingers the nurse leaned in and closed her eyes after she drawn her last hiccupping breath.

"Laura Ann Sidle…" The doctor glanced at his watch. "Time of death, 6:24 am, Dec. 25, 2006."

There were no tears.

The nurse, a tall gangly woman of about 46, reached over and, with an unerring finality, pulled the sheet up over the woman's face. "I didn't even know she had any family…" Her sympathetic blue eyes trailed the room and then fell sadly on the doctor, who had already shoved the clipboard under his arm and was on his way out the door.

Two days previously

Dec 23, 7am

A loud squeal emanated from Sara's cell phone, causing the woman holding it to stare horrified at the offending item. She held it away a moment and then placed it back to her ear only to wait through another round of shrieks and words spun so fast that it was next impossible to keep up with the actual conversation. The slim brunette rolled her eyes in her partner's direction, as he stood languidly running his thick fingers thought the stubble on his head, a large generous smile perched on his classically handsome face.

"Okay…" was all she managed, before the conversation started up once again on the other end of the phone. She waited a minute more glancing impatiently at her watch before finally breaking into the woman's blue streak monologue. "Lilly…."

Her friend just kept on talking.

"LILLY!"

That did the trick.

"My landlord has a spare key. I am at a scene right now." She glanced at the crimson stained floor of the warehouse. It was still mottled with grey matter and bits of skull; they would be at least another hour processing, and then they still had to head back to the lab. Sara rolled her dark eyes a second time, as the women fired a few questions her way. "I should be there no later than noon." Sara said with a finality that left little doubt as to whether the conversation was over. She flicked her phone shut and turned to Nick at the same time tossing a shy smile his way. "Sorry…"

"Hey, no problemo…" Thick rubber snapped against the solid flesh of his hands as he donned a new pair of gloves and bent in to drop a small yellow placard beside a particularly large chunk of brain. "You have company?" He grinned back at Sara as she made her way around him and snapped three photos of the marker and item it highlighted.

"Yeah…" The slim brunette mumbled distractedly and pulled a long pair of forceps from her vest pocket. "An old friend from Harvard, actually." She bent in for a closer look at the item on the floor in front of her toe. Under all of the blood pool she'd almost missed it. "I got it…" Elated, she turned back to the tall Texan and winked. "One BFG…Can you pass me a marker please?"

Nick did her one better and came over and placed it beside the bullet on the ground. "Is she cute?"

Two dark eyebrows rose, and knitted together. "Lilly?" She bent in and snapped another series of photos.

"Yeah…" Nick had turned and dropped yet another marker a few feet away while Sara placed the bullet in a bindle and then trailed after him.

"I suppose. Yeah… I mean she's maybe a little shorter than me… dark hair." The young woman grinned. "It depends on your taste. Why? You looking for a date?" She teased, at the same time crouching to get a better angle on the object Nick had found. It looked to be a silencer.

He shocked her. "Maybe…"

"Wow…" Sara actually laughed at this.

"What?" The Texan grinned.

"Have you been shot down by everyone in Warrick's entire little black book already?" It had been a running joke, when CSI Brown had gotten married he'd retired the book. Rumor had it that he'd passed it off to Nicky.

"Now, now…no need to get mean." he smirked, and picked up the silencer. "I've just never met any of your friends." He moved over to where Sara had already pulled out her flashlight, and examined it a little closer. "Think this is off a 48?"

"Could be…" Two sets of dark eyes met, and both smiled at each other. Sara yanked out a larger bindle and offered it to the man in front of her. "There is a reason why I have never introduced you to any of my friends Nicky…"

"Oh yeah...?" He dropped the metal rod into the baggy, and tugged the other one from his partner's hand. "And what would that be?"

"Other than the fact that none of them are your type…?" Her voice echoed in the cavernous warehouse, as she moved away from the concentrated area and towards the furthest spatter point.

"Yeah, other than that fact..." He squinted into the dusky warehouse wishing that the lighting was better and followed after Sara Sidle, unwilling to tell her out loud that she should be careful, for fear of his own life; but more than willing to admit to himself, that the darkened corners outside the lamp lit area made him more than a little nervous. The cops had cleared the scene, but they'd learned several times over that that didn't always mean very much. The tall Texan watched as she bent over. "What you got there?"

Sara snapped a few photos and then picked up her find, dangling it from her index finger. "Murder weapon? Looks like your 48…"

"That it does." He held out a bindle. "It was one round, through and through. We have he weapon, and bullet. Think we're done?"

"Let's just get a few more shots of the spatter." Sara suggested, and began to move around the periphery camera in hand. She snapped more photos, and then let out a loud whoop. "Got a wallet…" She took a photo and snatched it up off the ground from behind a crate and leafed through it. "Not the vics…" A smirk broke across her face. "Whatta yah wanna bet this belongs to the murderer?"

"Now that would be a Christmas gift, wouldn't it?" Nick, took the wallet from her, bagged it, tagged it and dropped it into his case alongside the other items they'd collected. "So you're not going to introduce me to your friend."

Sara shook her head and laughed. "You are incorrigible, Nicky boy."

"She went to Harvard; she must be smart."

"Uh… yeah, I guess. She's a biology teacher." She packed her camera into her case, and tugged it up off the floor. "She got a degree in sciences and went onto teacher's college for a year."

"So she's good with human anatomy." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively at the woman in front of him.

Sara, in turn, punched him in the arm, and then though it over for a moment. "Well, she is in town for a good time..."

"See…" Nick Stokes glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as they wandered side by side towards the exit.

"Nick you go through women like some men go through condoms. I just don't want to have to suffer the repercussions." Sara waved to the young pock faced rookie who stood at the doorway, and stepped through and around the big puddle that was smack dab in front of it. "Have a nice day, Meyers…" She called back.

Nick simply nodded at the young man.

"You too, Sidle, Stokes…" The lanky officer stepped outside after them and lit up a cigarette.

"You cut me to the bone, Sara Sidle." Nick managed to look genuinely hurt despite the fact that he knew she was right. "Tell you what… You said she was in town for a good time. We can all go out to dinner, and show her around. You're off the next two nights right?"

"I am…" She wandered up to the truck and leaned against it waiting for Nick to get the keys out. "How come you're not going home for Christmas this year?"

"Well…" He dropped his case on the ground and scratched his head. "All of my sibs are going to their in-laws', and mom and dad are going on a cruise."

"Oh…" Sara's eyebrows rose. "So they left you high and dry…"

"Yup, a well my sister Julianne invited me to her mother in-laws' – but that would have just been strange, the woman has whiskers and yellow false teeth." He shuttered, "so I signed on for Christmas, too, but like you, off tonight and Christmas Eve. Come on we can all go out and have some Christmas Eve fun."

Sara squinted warily at him, as he popped open the trunk and grabbed her kit from her hand. "Well we're going out tonight, alone," she emphasized. "I picked up tickets to zumanity for us, but we haven't made plans yet for tomorrow…"

"See it was meant to be, buttercup." He smirked at her, and adjusted the kits so none of them would fall over, before slamming the hatch shut.

Sara pursed her lips with great consideration, most of it fake. "Alright, this is what I'll do." She tucked a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear. "I'll run it by her and let her decide, as long as you promise never to call me buttercup again…"

"Okay, darlin'" He grinned, as she rolled her eyes and then headed for the drivers side door. "Don't worry, Sar… It'll be fun, really…" He assured her as they both climbed in the truck.

"Right…" She muttered, as she stared out into the early morning sun.

Dec 24, 1pm

Sara's head felt like there were a dozen little elves tap dancing on it, followed up by 8 not so tiny reindeer, all of whom were accompanied by the big red dude himself.

Jello shooters the night before had been a bad idea; 25 of them – or more - had been just plain stupid. That's why she normally took her drinks straight up, and with no frills. Drinks offered in the guise of something flavorful only served to make you want more, and tended to be extremely efficient causing you to forget that you were drinking something which would probably have you rethinking your choices the next morning. And this is exactly the situation Sara Sidle found herself in, as she wandered on unsteady legs into the bathroom, still fully dressed… including the 3 inch stilettos she'd crammed her feet into the night before. She discarded them in the middle of the floor and continued through the doorway, her eyes first passing over and unconscious Lilly dangling precariously off the couch; a distinctly male arm draped over her.

"Mmmm…" Sara moaned trying to rub a little of the muzziness out of her eyes. Thankfully, she'd woken up alone. The last thing she wanted or needed was to roll over and find a whiskey soaked stranger sharing her bed. She'd never been good at one night stands, and was even less skilled at the morning after the night before scenario.

The slim brunette gazed in horror at herself as she moved in front of the bathroom mirror. Even with the lights set on dim she looked like shit. Long fingers roamed up her face and she tugged at the bags under her eyes, before sticking her tongue out to see if there really was a wad of cotton baton in her mouth.

The last thing she solidly remembered about the evening had something to do with two very hot out-of-towners and a shooter contest. There was a taxi involved somewhere along the line, she was sure of it, because her fist was slightly abraded and she distinctly remembered slugging the driver for copping a feel, which meant at some point during the day she had to pick up her car, from somewhere.

Las Vegas was a big town…It could be anywhere.

Within moments Sara's little red dress, nylons, and various undergarments were laying in a pile on the cool white tiles of her washroom floor, and there was a hot mist filtering out from the behind the mint green shower curtain.

Dec 24, 4pm

Lilly was severely hung over, so much so, it had taken Sara an hour to rouse her. The guy draped over her friend had awoken just as Sara had exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and had attempted to get lucky again… this time with a less than appreciative Sara Sidle.

He was hot, but clearly a slime ball and the tall brunette had told him as much as she showed him the door while he was still in his shorts. A handful of clothing had followed the man – who'd introduced himself a Todd while he was trying to entice Sara into performing the horizontal limbo – out into the hallway shortly after he himself had been expulsed from the apartment.

The last few words out of the man's mouth as he made his way towards the elevator only partially dressed, sounded remarkably like "Fucking bitch", to which the young CSI had promptly responded; that the guy needed to expand on his vocabulary as the terminology he'd used was getting a little old.

It was not the first time she had been called it, and she was certain it would not be the last.

Sara sipped a strawberry banana smoothie and stared at the phone. She'd taken in an entire swimming pool worth of liquids to try and offset the worsening of her looming headache. Push liquids had been the term used in college. The truth behind most hangovers was dehydration. Re-hydrate yourself and life would usually improve… well a few painkillers wouldn't hurt either. Sara had succumbed to both methods of healing, unfortunately neither was working all that well. It was this fact, and also the sound of retching emanating from the bathroom that had her contemplating the phone, and the act of canceling out on one very persistent Nick Stokes.

Her friend had already called twice; the concern in his voice evident when no one answered and voicemail picked up.

Damn…Christmas eve or not, she really wasn't in the mood to party, and Lilly, quite frankly, wasn't in any shape to be seen in public. At least that was Sara's opinion after having spent the better part of an hour trying to shake the still drunken woman awake. In the end her response had been a moan and a mad dash to the bathroom, the color of gray-green mottling her pale skin.

The term; a watched pot never boils was an inaccurate. A total geek, Sara had laid that and many other colloquialisms to rest at a fairly young age. Watched pots did in fact boil, and at a fairly predictable rate, too. This was also true with telephones, when watched and waited on, they did actually ring, they didn't always have the person on the other end that you were hoping for, but they did inevitably let out a high pitched chime at some point. And that is exactly what Sara's did, startling her and causing a chain reaction that resulted in a horrendous coughing, and sputtering fit that almost had the young woman shooting smoothie out of her nose.

Still shaking and snorting back her drink, she reached for it before it could let out a second ring, which she was certain would effectively pierce her skull, and blissfully render her somewhere close to dead.

Her hello sounded way more like a moan that a greeting.

"Hey Sar…"

"Mmmm." She breathed into the phone. "Sara Sidle is unconscious – perhaps you could call her back tomorrow, when she might be a little more coherent?"

"Bad hangover, eh?" There was a definite smirk in Nick Stoke's voice.

"You could say that…" It wasn't really as bad as it had been, but it was still bad enough.

"Where did you go after the show last night?" His softly good natured Texas drawl helped a little to sooth the headache sitting behind her eyes.

"Ah let's see… We walked from the New York, New York, to a small Italian place across the street beside the MGM, and we had a late dinner. Then we walked to Light at the Bellagio, and I think we ended up at OPM… After that – to be honest it gets a little foggy."

"Wow… who knew Sara Sidle was such a party girl?"

"She's not – hence the hangover Nicky my boy." There was something half hanging out from under the couch it was reddish, and see through and drew her attention immediately. Reaching over to pick it up, Sara instantly had second thoughts and grabbed a tissue from the end table first.

"So how much did you actually have to drink?" There was a chuckle in his voice this time.

"Hmmm, let's see. Eeeuuuwww…" She'd pulled out a used condom. It appeared to be edible, based on the overwhelming cherry scent that was emanating from it. She only hoped that Lilly had eaten any of the others.

"Euuuw, what…?" A note of concern filtered through the phone line.

"Ahh nothing, just found some leftovers under my couch."

"Left overs? You? Miss neatnick?" There was genuine amazement in the other CSI's voice.

"No, not really just a wrapper from something, actually..." She held it well out in front of her as though it could explode at any time, and then quickly tossed it into the garbage, which she promptly tied up and double bagged, after she'd jammed the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Now, I know I had way too many Jello shooters… Need I say more?"

"Nah…those will do it to you every time, darlin', different jello flavor different alcohol. They will kill you if you don't watch it."

"Too late… already dead…see… you are merely talking to a ghost." She was washing her hands, now and rooting around unhappily for a paper towel.

Her friend laughed outright at this. "Good thing I have a cure then. I don't care how bad you feel buttercup; you're not backing out of our group date. I'll be over in thirty minutes."

"Wait no…Nick." It was too late he'd already hung up and she knew he wouldn't answer if she called him back.

Damn it all!

"Lilly, you need to get out here now, we have to get dressed." Her voice resonated loudly and painfully through her small apartment.

TBC