Fine Flowers
Summary: While investigating an infanticide, Sara and Catherine unearth an old mystery. The more they uncover, the stranger Catherine acts, until Sara wonders if everything is as it seems… Sara/Cath friendship. Sandle, YoBling.
Author's Note: This story turned out more humorous than expected. So much so that the second genre kept jumping from mystery to humor to romance. You'll find a little bit of everything here. The beginning ought to make you laugh. It was written to inspire awkward laughter, which even as I wrote I had to let out. This story is going to get a little darker, though I will try to keep it within the rating this time. It's inspired by a British folk song called, "Fine Flowers In The Valley" (a version of the song "The Cruel Mother"). Lyrics to which are included below. The melody is so haunting, I just had to write a ghost story. Maybe I was possessed. Who knows. Enough of me, read on. (Also, I'll try and keep my author's notes short this time).
She sat down below a thorn
Fine flowers in the valley
And there she kissed her babe newborn
And the green leaves they grow rarely
Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe
And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead
She's taken out her little penknife
And twinned the sweet babe o' its life
She howket a grave by the light o' the moon
And there she's buried her sweet babe in
As she was going to the church
She saw a sweet babe in the porch
O sweet babe, if thou wert mine
I would cleed thee in the silk so fine
O mother dear, when I was thine,
You didna prove to me sae kind
O curse mother, heaven's high
And that's where thou will neer win nigh
O cursed mother, hell is deep
Fine flowers in the valley
And there thou'll enter step by step
And the green leaves they grow rarely
Sara leaned over the edge of the crib and took a picture while Catherine walked around the room.
"This doesn't look like the room an angry mother would decorate," she said.
Sara shrugged. "Post-partum depression can do crazy things to you."
"I didn't have it so bad," Catherine said, turning to face Sara. Sara felt the burn in her gaze and looked over at her.
"I'm sorry," Sara said, slightly confused at Catherine's radiating irritation. "I didn't mean anything against you."
"Hm," Catherine intoned, before turning away and picking up a book. "She had Goodnight Moon. Why would you buy all this and then kill your own child?"
"I'm not sure," Sara said. "But it's pretty open and shut, Catherine. The father walked in on her as it happened. Brass is trying to talk to them right now."
Catherine looked at her watch and sighed. "Well, good," she said. "Let's wind this up, Grissom wants us out in Boulder City."
Sara sighed and nodded. "Because we're not far from there. OK." She picked up a white fiber in the baby's mouth. "These are always so sad," she said, half to herself.
"To kill your own child…" Catherine muttered as she looked at a photograph.
"I think we found a murder weapon," Sara said, holding up a pillow in the crib. Catherine turned to look at Sara impassively and shrugged. "Fantastic," she said. "We got everything here?"
"I think so," Sara said. She stopped herself from sarcastically adding, 'Thanks for the help.'
"Great," Catherine said quickly. "Let's go then."
Catherine exited the room coolly and quickly, leaving Sara to gaze after her curiously. Catherine had been in a good enough mood on the way over, and even when they'd met the bawling mother and the shocked father. Her mood had only changed the moment they'd stepped into the child's room. She had grown frigid, icy even, and every word that had come out of Sara's mouth seemed to offend her. The room dropped several degrees, and Sara rubbed her arms before leaving the room and going down the stairs.
Brass was trying to console a hysterical mother on the couch when he saw Sara and Catherine coming down the stairs. He waved at them headed over.
"What'd you guys find?" he asked.
"Not much to find," Sara replied. "Baby was smothered, we found some fibers on her mouth which in all likelihood match the pillow we found by her head. It seems pretty straight forward, coupled with the father's testimony that he walked in on the mother and called the police."
Brass nodded, then looked over his shoulder at the father, who stood cold and pale in the corner of the room as he stared at his wife. "Strange case," he said. "The mother confessed, but she's crying so much I can't figure out what mindset she was in when it occurred. I'm going to get a psych eval—"
"How could you do that!" the father exclaimed, stepping forward. "How could you kill our baby?"
She was blubbering as she offered her hands to him as if they were all she had to give. It wasn't good enough for him.
"You're a crazy bitch, you know that?" he said quietly, approaching her. A few officers stepped in. One of them put a hand on his shoulder. He stopped.
"I didn't know what to do!" the woman sobbed. "Can we burry her in the garden, Allan? Please?"
"The garden?!" her husband screamed, outraged. He broke away from the officer's touch. "I'll show you what we'll burry in the garden!"
She screamed and the officers tried to restrain him, but the husband broke free and struck his wife across the face. Sara and Brass stepped forward while Catherine remained in the shadows. Sara kneeled in front of the mother as her tears mingled with the blood on her face. Brass took the man's hands and put them behind his back, ready to cuff him.
"No!" the husband screamed, throwing Brass off of him and he crashed into the coffee table. Sara looked up in time to see a heavy hand come down hard across her shoulders and she was slammed against the wall. The woman's bloodcurdling scream ripped through the house.
Sara's vision was fuzzy from the blow as the throbbing pain played on her brain like a bongo drum, but she'd heard that scream clear as a bell. Her body sore, she got to her feet, and her vision cleared enough to see the husband, Allan Walter, standing over the corpse of his wife and staring at his hands in bafflement. Everything was frozen. Brass was on his feet too, watching Allan Walter closely. Sara's eyes darted to the stairwell, in which Catherine remained in the shadows, watching the scene with cold blue eyes. Sara frowned as time began to start again and the police rushed forward to detain their new murderer.
"Catherine!" she called out to her colleague, her head banging. "Are you OK?" She wondered if Catherine realized the irony of the question, considering the fact that Sara had just been thrown clear across the room.
Catherine nodded and stepped onto the landing and then out into the living room as the police dragged Allan Walter out of the house. Her eyes were on the body. "Well," she said. "It looks like Boulder City will have to wait."
Brass rubbed his forearm, which had been cut by a piece of glass from the coffee table. He looked up at Sara. "How are you doing, Sara, you alright?"
Sara nodded and then stopped as she felt it sloshed her brain around in her skull. She smiled. "I'll be OK. That looks like a nasty cut, you should get that checked out."
"Yeah," said Brass. He turned to Catherine. "I don't think we need your expertise here," he said, noting how intently she stared at the body. "We all saw what happened. I think mine and Sara's injuries can attest to that if you need more evidence. Why don't you and Sara head back to Grissom. He'll be worried when he hears what happened down here."
"Let's go into the garden," Catherine said suddenly, earning her two curious looks from Sara and Brass. She shrugged. "What? It was obviously important to her." They both looked skeptical and Catherine tilted her head. "Come on, Sara, humor me."
Sara glanced at Brass, then looked back at Catherine and sighed. "OK, fine, let's look at the garden." Catherine didn't seem to be in a mood to be argued with.
"OK," Brass said, "But I'm calling Grissom to let him know you both are OK."
Sara nodded at him before she followed Catherine out onto the backyard patio. It was a lovely garden, with a forest on the edge of it. Sara stood in awe of it. The garden was well tended, with flowers in bloom all over. But Catherine seemed to ignore it all as she strode out toward the forest. Sara looked after her, intrigued.
"Where are you going?" she called.
Catherine didn't answer. She kneeled on the grass at the edge of the forest. "Sara!" she called out. "Come see this."
Sara jogged on over to Catherine and kneeled down next to her. "What?"
Catherine pointed at a patch of clover that grew in abundance under some forest leaf litter. Catherine looked at Sara. "What do you think caused this?"
"Fertile soil?" Sara said. "I don't know, clovers grow everywhere, Catherine, they're like a weed." But Catherine had begun to dig with her hands. "Catherine! What are you doing?"
"There's something under here, Sara," Catherine said. "It's… I can feel it."
Sara saw a gray bone peaking out from the soil and gasped. Soon, her hands joined Catherine's in digging at the soil. When they were finished, they stood back and saw a near complete skeleton of an infant. Catherine pulled out her cell phone and called it in.
"Grissom? Yeah, I'm—Yes, yes, we're both fine, relax. Listen, Sara and I just found another DB. Child… Yeah you do that, send Greg and Nick, they can have a ball. Call you when we know something. Bye." She looked at Sara. "Ready to process another scene?"
"What about Boulder City?" Sara asked.
"Nick and Greg are on it," Catherine replied.
"Then lets get to it!"
"Super Dave!" Nick exclaimed happily upon seeing him.
David Phillips, on the other hand, did not look so amused as he stared at the two approaching CSIs with arms crossed. "Where have you guys been? I thought Catherine and Sara were on this case! I've been waiting here for an hour and a half."
Greg shrugged and tossed him an envelope. "Hope that'll make up for it. It's 3:00, you better not miss it."
David opened the envelope and looked at the invitation skeptically. "A party? You think a party will make me feel better."
"An island party," Greg corrected. "I expect Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts, man."
"Aren't those two completely different islands?" Nick asked.
"Yeah, but you see—"
"Dead body!" David interrupted, pointing at the corpse. "Dead body on the ground and you're on the job. TOD was only six hours ago, but that was when I first arrived, now it's more like eight. Warrick dropped me off here before getting assigned to another crime scene, said Catherine and Sara would be right over. Guess they sent you guys instead, and now I have no car. Have fun, I'm getting coffee."
As he strode off, Nick and Greg looked after him. Greg turned to Nick. "What's gotten into him? It's not our fault Catherine found another body."
"Yeah, but he's been out here and it's cold," Nick said. "Can't say I blame him. Anyway, what have we got?"
Greg squatted down to look at the body. "Gun shot wound to the head," he said, then grinned up at Nick. "Wallet missing… And what do you know, he's wearing a Hawaiian shirt."
"Maybe Dave can take some fashion tips," Nick quipped.
They processed the scene quickly and were done within the hour. They met David back by Nick's car. He was drinking out of a Starbucks cup and he seemed to have calmed down and forgiven them a little. "That was fast," he noted.
"You waited," Nick said. "I'm flattered."
He smiled at them. "Had nowhere else to go," he said honestly. "Slow night for crime I guess."
"Yeah, really," said Greg, tossing his kit in the car. "Need a ride?"
"You know I do," David replied.
Nick and Greg argued over the music to listen to all the way back to the lab and David began to regret accepting their ride. He had been looking forward to driving back with Sara and Catherine. It would probably have been a much quieter drive back. He briefly wondered what the two of them had found down there.
By the time they got back to the lab, Catherine and Sara were there too, both women having some coffee in the break room. Greg veered over towards them and handed them each an invitation. Catherine looked at it skeptically.
"Is this an elaborate ploy to see us in bikinis?" she asked him.
Greg looked offended. "Please," he said. "I'm not that tactless. If anything, it's a plan to get you leied." Sara choked on her coffee and Greg grinned at her. "Those flower necklaces. Leis?" he clarified.
Sara closed her eyes and nodded. "Very nice, Greg," she said.
"You're both coming?" he said, looking at each of them.
Sara smiled at him. "Sure, we'll be there," she said.
"So what did you guys find over in Henderson?" he asked them.
"Well," Sara answered. "An infanticide turned into a triple."
"You're joking," Greg said, stunned. "Let me guess—the baby came back for revenge?"
Catherine glared at him. "Not funny, Greg."
Greg bowed his head at the cool tones in Catherine's voice. "Sorry, I was just…"
"The father of the smothered infant," Sara said, trying to dispel the negative air, "jumped out and broke the mother's neck. The mother killed the baby, that case is closed. But then Catherine decided to check the backyard and found another baby's body. We assumed it was a previous child that the mother had killed earlier. Hence, the triple."
Greg looked at Sara for a moment, then frowned before reaching over to her face as he pushed her hair back behind her ear. He looked at his red fingers, and Sara suddenly realized why. "You're bleeding," he said, all jest gone from his voice and replaced with concern. "What—"
"Angry dad tossed me against the wall," Sara said, her fingers flying to the side of her head. "I guess I missed that injury. Excuse me." She made her way out, her hand still held to the side of her head, and Greg and Catherine were left alone in the room. Greg shifted uncomfortably as Catherine stared at him.
"Sorry about the dead baby joke," then cringed as he realized the apology could be misinterpreted as a tasteless pun. "I mean—sorry for saying the baby—um, can I just say sorry for breathing? Would that make you stop looking at me like that?"
Catherine relaxed and smiled at Greg. "It's OK, Greg," she said. "Just don't talk about my baby that way again."
Greg nodded as she pushed past him and left and it was only upon her exit that her words finally dawned on him. "Hey Catherine, what—" He spun around to catch her, but she was gone. He shrugged, deciding Catherine had simply misspoken, and left it at that.
"Cath— Oh, it's you."
Greg turned at the voice and saw Hodges glaring at him from the doorway. "Hi. They just left. What do you need? Find something on the dead baby?"
"I'm afraid I can only tell Catherine that," said Hodges smugly. "What are you doing slacking off in here anyway?"
Greg sat down in his chair and kicked his feet up. "Slow night," he said. "I've got nothing else to do."
"I thought you and Nick Stokes were working on that Hawaiian Shirt case," Hodges said.
"You heard about that, huh?"
"I was around when Nick was talking to Bobby about the gun," Hodges replied. He turned to leave, before adding, "Oh and by the way, don't think that I don't know that you're having a party on Saturday. Or that I'm not invited."
Greg looked at the invitations in his hand and shoved them behind his back. "It's in the mail, bro!" he called after Hodges.
"Right," Hodges said, rolling his eyes as he left.
Hodges walked down the hall until he saw the back of Catherine's head and ran to catch up with her, calling her name. She stopped and turned to him.
"The soil you brought back," he told her. "Unusually high traces of pollen. Someone threw flowers on this grave."
"No kidding?" Catherine said. "That's interesting."
"Whoever buried the kid probably loved it," he said.
Catherine took the file from him and stared at it blankly. "Yes," she said. "Very much."