Title: Ordering the Chaos

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sara/Warrick

Spoilers: Chaos Theory and everything up to it

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate (http://helsinkibaby.topcities.com/csi/csific.htm) , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Summary: The Rycoffs aren't the only ones looking for closure….

***

Sara sat in the same seat she'd occupied the last time that she was in this house, except that this time, neither Grissom nor Brass were there with her. This time, she was on her own and off the clock, and officially, there was no reason for her to be there.

Unofficially, it was a whole other story.

Grissom had told her once that in this job, they met people on the worst day of their lives. It wasn't lost on her that he'd told her that when he felt that she was getting too involved with a victim, a Jane Doe who was raped and shot and left for dead. Nor was it lost on her that if Grissom could see her now, he'd undoubtedly start on another lecture about how she was getting too involved with a victim, how she shouldn't be here.

In the back of her mind, she was able to admit that he probably had a point.

As far as she was concerned though, how could she possibly be anywhere else?

The way she looked at it, right now, Grissom and Catherine were meeting with Paige Rycoff's parents, giving them the details of their daughter's demise. How they were going to react to the strange confluence of events that had occurred that night was anyone's guess, but Sara had a feeling that it wasn't going to be pretty, and she was glad that she wasn't there to see it. One of Grissom's other pet sayings was that part of their job was to give closure to the victims' families, and what closure were the Rycoffs going to get from this?

The thing of it was, the Rycoffs weren't the only ones who needed closure from this.

That's why she was here again, in Jennifer Riggs's living room, surrounded by pictures of a happy, smiling girl who bore only a passing resemblance to the shaken young woman sitting across from her. Jennifer's eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with tears, and she was having a hard time catching her breath.

"I don't understand…" she managed to choke out. In contrast to the controlled upset that she'd demonstrated on Sara's last visit, now she was crying openly.

"When we took DNA samples from the guys on the floor, trying to find Paige's killer, we were able to compare the samples to the ones that we found on your bed," Sara explained. "It was a positive match to Kevin Watson. When we talked to him, he admitted it." She left out the fact that Grissom had refused to let her with a hundred metres of Kevin Watson, getting Warrick to go with him, based on the theory that Warrick knew the campus, knew the baseball coach. What he hadn't said, but what Sara had heard loud and clear, was that he was nervous about how she'd react around a proven rapist.

Jennifer was still shaking her head. "I don't understand why he did that," she said, taking slow, deep breaths and wiping her eyes. Sara opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was, Jennifer interrupted her. "Kevin was popular…all the girls wanted to date him…why would he…"

Sara shook her head as the girl's voice trailed off. Unsure of what to say, she decided on honesty as the best policy. "I don't know what to tell you either Jennifer. I don't know why he did what he did. I don't know why it was you and not some other girl. What I do know is that we caught him, and he's going to be punished."

Jennifer pushed back her hair with both hands, trying to smile, but not quite getting there. "Thank you," she whispered.

Sara's smile, on the other hand, was genuine. "You're welcome."

"You didn't have to come here…" Jennifer said after a moment, frowning suddenly. "I mean…the police called, they said they had someone…"

Sara shook her head, cutting her off. "I wanted to come," she admitted frankly. "I thought you might have questions…or that it might be easier on you to hear it face to face, rather than over the phone…"

"I appreciate that."

Sara cast about for something to say, found it thanks to a picture of a smiling Jennifer, clad in cap and gown, her diploma in hand. "Have you thought about what you're going to do now? Go back to school?"

"My mom wants me to," Jennifer admitted. "But I don't know if I could go back there… knowing what happened to me…to Paige…" She shook her head, closing her eyes against a fresh onslaught of tears. "It's too much, you know?"

Sara nodded. "I understand."

"Just the thought of seeing those guys again…" Jennifer continued, a shudder wracking her body.

"Jennifer, I know what happened to you was horrible," Sara began. "But you've got to remember…not all guys are like Kevin Watson. I realise that plenty of college guys act…" She paused for a second, thinking back not only to this case, but to the fraternity murder that she and Nick had investigated the previous year. "Immaturely…might even put themselves and other people in danger. But not all of them."

A ghost of a smile crossed Jennifer's face. "You sound like my mom."

Sara winced exaggeratedly, as if in pain, then smiled. "Thanks," she chuckled, gratified to see the younger girl laughing too. "But your mom's right. There are good people out there. And college? It can be some of the best years of your life. You owe it to yourself not to let this guy ruin your life."

Jennifer met her gaze, then nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Any time," Sara grinned, standing. "I'd better go. If there's anything you need…"

Jennifer stood with her, walking her to the door, hugging her as she left. A smile on her face, Sara continued down the path to where she'd left her car, her gait slowing as she saw a familiar body leaning back against it, arms crossed over his chest, piercing green eyes staring right at her. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head, hardly able to believe that he'd followed her, while simultaneously not really being surprised at all. She gave him a sheepish grin as she came closer, but he didn't move, didn't react to her at all, just blinked lazily at her until she was standing right in front of him.

"How did you know I'd be here?" she asked curiously, unconsciously mimicking his posture, arms crossed over her chest.

"Took a shot." Warrick shrugged, gaze flicking away from her momentarily and up to the house. "How is she?"

Sara's head turned briefly in that direction, then back to him. "She's ok," she said, before quickly amending, "At least, she will be."

"How are you?" was his next question, and it reminded her that he hadn't answered her yet, not really.

"Curious," she responded, and he lifted an eyebrow. "How did you know I'd be here?"

Another shrug. "Gris and Cath are at the lab, talking to Paige Rycoff's parents," he told her. "Trying to give them some closure. I figured you might be looking for a little closure of your own."

She chuckled to herself, looking down at the ground. "You know me too well," she murmured, not looking up, not even when she heard his footsteps closing the distance between them, until she could sense his presence right in front of her. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, and she could see the worry in his face, could almost feel it travelling from his body to hers when his hands landed on her shoulders, kneading them gently. She closed her eyes at the touch, heaving a sigh of pure frustration. "She's just a kid Warrick."

"I know," he breathed, taking a step towards her, pulling her into his arms. Her head sank onto his shoulder, her hands making fists in his shirt as she gripped him tightly, and when he loosened his hold on her, she just held on tighter. She heard his soft grunt of surprise, but he reaffirmed his grip on her, not saying anything, just holding her, giving her exactly what she needed from him.

It was a well known fact among the CSIs that everyone had their hot spots, everyone had some kind of case that pushed their buttons. For Catherine, it was when a child was involved. For Sara, it was cases that included violence against women. The initial call on this case, an pretty eighteen year old girl vanishing without a trace, had all the hallmarks of one of those cases, and when she'd found the DNA with the traces of Rohypnol, it had turned into one in a way that she could never have imagined. Sitting in that living room, listening to Jennifer recount the details of the night that she could barely remember had sent a shiver up Sara's spine. A floor party. In her own time at college, she'd been to a hundred of them. None of them had ever ended up with anything like that, and her heart broke for the girl.

Pulling the oldest trick in the book, the bait and switch, had been a pleasure.

That particular thought had her raising her head from his shoulder, pulling back so that she could look up at him. "Better?" he asked, one hand lifting to push back her hair, lingering on her cheek before sliding back down to her shoulder.

She nodded, forcing a smile to her face. "Getting there," she told him honestly. "Thank you."

She didn't elaborate on that, nor did he ask her too, instead shaking his head, a "pfft" sound emerging from his lips. It was his way of telling her not to worry about it, not only that, but that he wouldn't be anywhere else. She'd become very adept at reading Warrick's economy of language. "Where else would I be?" was all he said, and a teasing smile came to her lips.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, a singsong tone in her voice as she wound her arms around his waist. "Telling college guys that I wasn't going to kiss them perhaps?"

He frowned in confusion, then his eyes cleared as he made the connection, and she could see, clear as if was standing there, the kid who didn't want to open his mouth because he hadn't brushed his teeth; hear the echo of Warrick's voice. "Hey, mouth boy, she's not going to kiss you. She just wants your DNA, ok?"

His voice now was as light as it had been serious then. "Hey, I saw the way they were looking at you…checking you out…"

"Oh please," she snorted. "You think every guy I meet is doing that." One brow raised in challenge and she continued, eager as ever to meet it. "David Philips?"

"Wore a clean lab coat, just for you, and admitted he had a crush on you."

"Greg?"

"Sanders practically drools every time you walk into a room," came the instant rejoinder. "It's disgusting."

She went on as if he hadn't even spoken. "And I'm not even going to talk about the fixation you have with Grissom…"

"It's not me has the fixation," he responded, with decidedly less amusement, and Sara looked down for a second, momentarily taken aback. She'd never quite become accustomed to the fact that Warrick genuinely did have a problem when it came to her and Grissom, and that his way of dealing with it was one of the many complexities of his character. On one hand, he could claim that he knew she had a crush on Grissom, but that he was ok with that, that it didn't bother him, that it wouldn't come between them. On the other hand though, every so often he would do or say something that indicated that despite his words to the contrary, it was eating at him.

"Well," she said. "Thanks for sticking up for me anyway."

A large hand ran up and down her back, rucking up the material of her shirt, sending a corresponding shiver up and down her spine. "That's my job," he said, his voice a low rumble, creating more shivers, and a pleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"So that's why you're here then?" she murmured, smiling as she leaned closer to him, and she could just about see his lips turning up in a smile before her eyes closed.

"Among other reasons…" was all he got out before their lips met, and the rest of the world, missing girls, rapists, cases, disappeared for a little while.

When she moved away from him, she was still smiling. "So…how about you tell me some more of those other reasons?"

"I think I can manage that." He dropped his arms from her hips, taking her hands in his. "I'll meet you at your place?"

"You're cooking?" Her voice was hopeful, and he shook his head, laughing.

"I think I can rise to cheese on toast."

"My hero." She kissed him quickly then, and he squeezed her hands before heading to his car, parked on the other side of the street. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he walked, recalling as she did so the words she'd uttered to Jennifer a few minutes earlier, that not all guys were like Kevin Watson, or Scott Shelton, or Eddie Willows. That there were some good ones out there, who could order the chaos of life and emotion with just one look.

After all, she should know.