Author: Maggienhawk

Title: Nonsensical Situations

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine…but I sure do wish some of them were.

Summary: Response to a Challenge on Unbound…first and last lines are given.

"No Grissom, I am not going to let you shave my legs," Sara replied.

            "Sara, why not? It's just an experiment."

            "Just an experiment? Griss, nothing is just an experiment with you. Warrick almost got his shoulder dislocated, and Greg had a foot rash for three days, all because of your experiments." She crossed her arms over her chest, and her body language screamed 'back off.'

            "It's not like I've never done it before," he said softly.

            Sara looked around the lab surprised that he would bring that bit of information up here. Making sure that no one was nearby, she walked around the tale to stand next to him. "It is one thing to do in the comfort of our own homes, but I cannot let you do it in the lab."

            "Why not?"

            Sara let out an exasperated laugh, "Griss, what normally happens after you shave my legs?" She raised her eyebrows in question and a small smirk formed on her face.

            She laughed as the blush formed on his face.

            "And we couldn't have that happen here at work, now could we?"

            He merely shook his head no. A small smile graced his face after a few moments. "We still need to figure out what our vic used to shave with. She has unusual abrasions on her legs and Doc Robbins found shaven leg hair in the wounds."

            "Maybe we should go back to the vic's apartment. We could have missed something. If not, you can go back to finding someone willing for you to tear up their legs."

            "Yeah," he sighed lightly.

            Sara placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "We'll figure it out, and maybe later I'll let you come over and shave my legs after work."

            "You better, seeing as you won't let me now." He mock frowned.

            "Stop pouting, it makes you look like you actually care about something." She turned to walk out of the lab; however his voice calling her name caused her to turn back towards him.

            "I do care about something. I care about you."

            She smiled and before turning back to the hallway, she mouthed 'I love you.'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Grissom and Sara walked down the apartment hallway and they noticed a woman sitting outside their victim's apartment door.

            "Miss, can we help you with something?" Grissom asked.

            "Oh, I was just waiting for my friend."

            "Is your friend Alison Jackson?"

            "Yes…why?"

            Sara stepped forward. "We are from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm Sara Sidle and this is Gil Grissom."

            "Crime Lab? Did something happen to Alison?"

            Sara sighed, "I'm sorry, but Alison's body was found last night."

            The woman turned away to hide her tears. Through her sobs she spoke, "I had hoped that she would have been okay yesterday when I left her alone."

            Grissom spoke softly, "Why wouldn't she have been okay?"

            "Alison had a problem. She had weird feelings about her body."

            Sara's face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

            The woman sighed, "Alison has thought for many years that she had bugs crawling under the skin of her legs."

            Both investigators raised their eyebrows and looked at each other. While still looking at Grissom, Sara asked a simple question, "Did Alison share this piece of information with a lot of people?"

            "No, she hated talking about it. Honestly, no one could ever tell that she had a problem. I didn't know for the longest time. I've known her for years, we went to high school together, and one day she had an episode, and completely freaked out in front of me. She can go weeks without it bothering her, and then BAM! The bugs come back."

            Grissom tilted his head to the side. "Was there anyone else that might know about this?"

            "Yes, she's been going to this weird support group, but she wouldn't tell me much about it. Apparently, her episodes have been more frequent and she found this group online. I tried to stop her, but she told me that these people knew what she was going through."

            Sara's eyes widened in shock. "Did this support group have a name?"

            "Yeah, People Experiencing Nonsensical Situations. PENS for short."

            "Thank you very much for your help. I'm sorry for your loss." Sara reached out her hand to shake the woman's hand, and she and Grissom walked out of the apartment building.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hi, I'm Captain Jim Brass, and these people here are from the Crime Lab, Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle. We are investigating the murder of Alison Jackson, and we were informed that she was a member of this group." After a lot of online research, and moments of disbelief that people actually trusted some random group of people, Grissom and Sara were able to locate where the next PENS meeting was to be held.

A woman's voice piped up, "Alison's dead?"

"Serves her right. She was always complaining about those damn bugs under her skin. Some of us have real problems, like the alien that lives in my ear." A man angrily said.

Brass, Sara and Grissom had to stifle their laughs.

A young woman, perhaps in her late teens, spoke up. "What happened to her?"

Sara was the first to answer. "We think that someone cut up her legs, and she ended up bleeding out."

Grissom continued, "We are going to need samples of everyone's DNA here."

The angry man yelled out, "What if we don't want to?"

Brass held up his hand to calm the man, "It's completely voluntary, but it will be able to eliminate you all as suspects. If you could all just stand up here against the wall, we'll get this done quick and painless."

"Oh, okay, just don't forget the alien. He doesn't want to feel left out."

Grissom and Sara shared amused and unbelieving looks as the PENS were lined up as if on parade.