Hi! I know I shouldn't be starting another story, but this popped into my head, so I hope you like it. It's my first attempt with CSI (I've been writing fanfiction for a while, just not for this show); so let me know if I should continue. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Stranger Things

The sun was beginning to rise and work was almost ended for the criminalists of the night shift in Las Vegas, Nevada. All of the larger cases having been wrapped up earlier in the night, several of the employees were scattered about the lab, simply waiting for the last few minutes of shift to pass. While most were finishing up paper work and straightening up workstations, Sara was on her way to her supervisor's office. She was tired. Tired of pretending she wasn't in love with the man. And tired of working with the woman who seemed to have won him over. She was resigning. She wasn't sure where she would go, but anywhere out of viewing distance of Sophia and Grissom's possible relationship was the general plan.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly on the doorframe before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. Grissom turned around, saw her, and motioned for her to wait while he finished with his phone call. While waiting, she picked up the nearest book and began flipping through it, the title and contents never registering to her until he hung up the phone and spoke.

"Have you read La Fanu?" She nodded slightly as she set the book back down. "Apparently, he wrote one of the first vampire stories. But Stoker came around not long after and captured more of a general audience—"

"Grissom, we need to talk."

"What are we doing now?"

"Have a book discussion," she said dryly. "I'm turning in—" before she could get past the third word, a loud knock sounded at the door. Before Grissom could speak, the door opened to reveal Brass along with another middle-aged man and a tiny, wide-eyed little girl.

"Gil Grissom, this is Trevor McCall. He's an attorney from California and he needs to speak to you."

"Can I finish?" Sara needed to give in her resignation before she changed her mind.

"Sara, maybe you can take Hannah here to the lounge and see if she needs a drink," Brass suggested firmly. It wasn't a question; the little girl needed to be out of the room and Sara was the closest female, therefore the appointed sitter.

"I'm not good with kids," she hissed quietly.

"You'll be fine," Brass assured her. He stooped down to look at the little girl from her level and continued in a much softer, more sympathetic voice.

"Hannah, this is Sara. You should go with her while Mr. McCall talks to Dr. Grissom." The little girl didn't respond, simply continued to stare at him through her wide, frightened blue eyes. But when Sara offered her hand, the little girl grabbed it tightly and followed the older woman outside. Once in the hall, Sara stooped down so that she could fully see the tiny brunette with the bright blue eyes. Her features were perfect, her skin pale and her cheeks with just the right amount of pink. That, along with her silence, made Sara compare her to a china doll.

"Hi there," Sara said uncomfortably once she was looking directly into the little girl's piercing gaze. She kept the smile on her face but the little girl's expression worried her; something was terribly wrong with this child. "Do you want something to drink? We have water, and juice, I think—" Her voice trailed off once she realized that her speaking was having no effect on the girl. She stood back up and continued to the break room where Greg and Nick were reading through a cold case file.

"Hey Sara," Nick said as he gave his friend a questioning look.

"Nick, Greg, this is Hannah. Hannah, these are two of the guys I work with. This is Nick and this," she said with a gesture towards Greg, "is Greg. Guys, shift is over," she said as she reached over to close the folder Nick was holding. Before speaking, he realized that he had been looking at photos of a victim. Not something a little girl should see.

"Well, Hannah, it was nice to meet you," Nick said as he stood. "Have fun with Sara."

"So, what does she have that I don't have?" Greg asked as he also stood.

"Out," Sara said firmly, giving Greg a good-natured glare. After he was gone, Sara turned back to the little girl, who was standing exactly where she had been upon entering the room. Reaching out carefully and gently, Sara picked her up and placed her on one of the chairs, noting along the way that she had lifted heavier field kits. Going into the refrigerator, she pulled out two bottles of water, an apple, and a piece of Catherine's chocolate; she wouldn't mind. Setting this on the table and retrieving a napkin and a knife, Sara sat down next to the little girl. She remained motionless until she saw the older woman pick up the knife. Sara saw her flinch and placed the utensil back on the table, reaching for the water instead.

"I was just going to cut the apple," she told the girl gently. "Hannah, how old are you?" Nothing. "Please?" She pressed softly. Eventually, the little girl raised her hand a bit and held out four fingers.

"Really? Wow. I'm almost thirty years older than you." The little girl looked at her in surprise. "Yeah, I know, I'm a dinosaur." Hannah smiled but then quickly returned to her fearful, frozen expression.

"Hey, was that a smile?" Sara asked, flashing a bright smile of her own. "You have a beautiful smile, Hannah. Would you like a piece of chocolate?" The little girl shook her head. "Well, thank you for answering. Maybe later for the chocolate." Before the one-sided conversation could continue, there was a knock on the door and Sara looked up to see Jackie standing there, her appearance indicating that she was headed home for the day.

"Hey," Sara said with a friendly smile.

"Hey there," the other woman said with a surprised expression. "Brass wants to see you in Grissom's office."

"Thanks. Have a good night."

"You too," the older woman said doubtfully. If her instincts were as good as she had always thought, Sara was in for quite the interesting night. Simply seeing the younger woman with a child was odd. But the way the men at the end of the corridor were acting made it much stranger.