Chapter One

Sara Sidle was having a gray day. The kind of day where while nothing went completely wrong, nothing went all that right either. To begin with, she'd been called to a scene early, and finding nothing to wear that was both clean and suitable (she'd supposed wearing a souvenir tee-shirt from a college concert trip to see Pink Floyd would most likely be frowned upon) she'd settled for a blue and white gingham blouse that had been a Christmas gift from a well meaning neighbor two years previous. When she'd arrived at her crime scene, having driven all the way out to Lake Mead, it turned out to be not an actual crime scene at all, but the unfortunate death of two young picnicking lovers who had died from what appeared to be the unfortunate effects of sun bathed egg salad sandwiches. Nevertheless, Sara being the diligent professional she was took what was left of the picnic into evidence, just in case bad mayonnaise had nothing to do with their deaths.

The couple had brought with them on their picnic a precocious little black dog, which took to barking at every law enforcement officer who arrived on the scene. Everyone that is, expect Sara. And when animal control radioed their ETA was hours off, (a group of monkeys had broken away from the circus and everyone was busy) the task of taking the dog back to the city was volunteered to Sara. Which was how she ended up walking down the halls of the Las Vegas Crime Lab with a dog tucked under her arm, and a picnic basket swinging from her hand.

The lab seemed a bit more active than normal, people rushing around a bit faster. She stopped by Grissom's office to check in and maybe see what all the fuss was about.

"Hi," she greeted from the doorway.

"Sara, I'm glad you're back," Grissom answered, sticking two file folders into his briefcase before he slipped into his jacket.

"What's going on? Big scene?"

"Haven't you been listening to your police band?"

"No, the dog didn't like it; she did however seem to like Diana Ross."

"Dog?" Grissom finally looked up and noticed the ball of black fur tucked under her arm.

"I've been calling her Rosanna."

"Why's that?"

Sara shrugged. "Dunno."

"Well," Grissom picked up his briefcase and met her in the doorway. "There's a sandstorm headed toward us. The city is shutting us down, for insurance reasons. Log in your evidence and go home."

"What am I supposed to do with Rosanna?"

"Is she a suspect?" Grissom seemed a little more serious than Sara would have thought.

"No," she answered, just as seriously.

"Then take her home with you until we can turn her over to animal control. Make sure you get home soon, that storm isn't going to wait." And with that, he was gone.

Sara looked at Rosanna, who looked back up at her with big black eyes and licked her lips. "Yeah, you're probably hungry, aren't you?" She turned and headed down the hall toward the kitchen.

"The Lions and Bears are playing, if you guys come over, we could watch," Greg's voice greeted Sara and Rosanna as they entered the kitchen. As Sara walked in, she saw Greg licking bits of chocolate cake off his fingertips. "Ding Dongs are the best," Greg declared with pleasure.

"Ding Dongs are just Cupcakes with out the squiggles. Hey Sar, whatcha got there?" Warrick nodded toward Rosanna, snuggled under Sara's arm.

"Her owners were vics at my scene, animal control wasn't going to show up for a while, so I brought her back with me," Sara explained as she placed Rosanna into Warrick's lap and made her way to the refrigerator in search of something the dog could have for dinner.

"Sara!" Greg jumped up and pulled a bowl out of a cabinet. "I'm trying to get a sand storm party going, wanna come? Movie or two, some dinner." Greg upped the ante as he filled the bowl with water.

"Hey ya'll," Nick entered the kitchen. "You know, its nights like this make me wish I had a girlfriend."

"You can have my wife," Warrick muttered.

"Man, you've gotta get the stones and go ahead and file. Who's this?" Nick scratched Rosanna behind the ears

"Sara's dog," Greg leaned back against the sink, the bowl of water in his hands.

Sara stood up from her crouched position in the fridge with a slice of cellophane covered apple pie in her hands. "It's not-"

"Hello. What's everyone going to do with the unexpected evening off?" Sophia walked in. "And what do we have here?" She walked over to where Warrick and Rosanna sat. Rosanna began to growl.

"Sara's dog," Nick answered.

"She's not my dog, she was at my scene." Sara really didn't want to explain it again.

"Well, then she belongs at animal control. I can take her if you'd like." Not waiting for an answer, Sophia reached for Rosanna who, in response, began to bark again.

"Hang on, maybe this'll help," Greg began, taking two steps before he tripped over his own feet, sending the bowl of water flying through the air, splashing directly on to Sophia.

"Arg," Sophia said and cursed under her breath, holding out her wet arms.

"Oh! Here, I'll get…" Greg grabbed a towel and began to pat Sophia's soaked shirt.

"Thank you, Greg," Sophia was irritated at being wet, and even more so that she was being felt up, even if he didn't realize he was doing it. "It's not a big deal," she waved off Greg's apologies. "I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt." She snatched the towel from Greg's hands. "At least I'm headed home anyway." She paused at the door. "You should really get going too, everyone else has cleared out, you are the last four in the building."

"Okay," the men chorused.

Warrick stood up, setting Rosanna gently on the floor. Sara walked over and put the plate of apple pie down in front of her. The dog sniffed it twice and started to wolf it down.

"So," Greg began and rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Sand storm party, my house?"

Warrick and Nick looked at each other. "Yeah, what the hell," Warrick answered.

"Great!" Greg nearly jumped in place. "See ya there." He was out the door.

"Sara, you coming?" Nick asked as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

"Yeah, I'll meet you there," she pointed to the picnic basket. "I'm gonna log that in first."

"Ok," Warrick followed Nick out the door. "Don't be long, I've seen those storms, and they move faster than you think."

"Hey guys!" Greg's excited voice came floating down the hall from the door, "look, a rainbow!"

Sara raised a hand in goodbye then she and Rosanna were alone.

A few minutes later, Rosanna properly fed and having drunk extensively from the refilled bowl of water, Sara scooped the dog up, grabbed the picnic basket and headed off down the hall. The wind outside was howling furiously, and for the first time, Sara began to feel an edge of worry creeping in. "Come on, you and I need to get out of here."

Rosanna whimpered a little as Sara took the bagged and tagged egg salad sandwiches out of the basket and stored them in the trace labs fridge. When she turned around, Rosanna was gone.

"Rosanna?" Sara called out, hoping she wouldn't have to chase down the small dog throughout the lab. Or, worse yet, have to clean something up.

"Rosanna?" She called again, and saw the lip of the picnic basket move a little and a black nose push though. "Rosanna?" Sara bent down and lifted the lid, finding the dog huddled down against the wicker. Black eyes blinked up at her. "Well, ok, I guess it's as good a place as any for you right now." She slid the basket on to her arm and headed toward the parking lot.

The walls were shuddering and through the windows it looked like the Strip had lost electricity, it was so dark out. The entire building began to shake and wobble, the ceiling cracked, even the floor began to quiver under her feet, and Sara had a strange momentary sensation, just like when a plane first leaves the ground. She had to push on the door with all her might, straining against the force of the wind holding the door closed. When the door did open just enough for Sara to step through, a gust of wind hurled her back and against a wall, where she hit her head and fell to the floor in a slump.