Sorry I haven't updated in months. I wasn't in the mood to write, and then I just totally forgot about it. I just reread this story and it made me feel like I had to write some more. I might even write some more of my other story, Amantes Sunt Amentes - but, I'm not making any promises :P

***

Sara stood over Benji Maguire's clothes, examining them for evidence. She inspected his jeans, inch by inch, searching for fibers, dirt, dna, - anything.

Nothing.

There had been nothing on his shirt either. Or on his shoes. Any trace of evidence was probably at the bottom of the fountains. Sara sighed. She had wasted 57 minutes trying to find a clue. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Dammit.

She felt like she was going nowhere.

***

"Hey Sar!"

Sara looked up at the sound of Greg's voice.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied with grin, "Find anything?"

"No. The clothes are clean."

"Well, that's more than you can say about mine."

Sara stared at him.

"I'm just kidding," Greg shot back quickly.

Sara smiled, "Sure, Greg."

***

Three. Four. Five. Sara froze in the hallway, and turned to the man beside her.

"Greg!" Sara nearly shouted, realization dawning on her.

Greg put a hand to his heart, feigning shock, "WHAT?"

"You forgot to tell me - did Doc find anything on the vic?"

"Oh, yeah. The kid had some bruises and cuts on him, all about a week old. He probably got into a fight at school," explained Greg absentmindedly.

Sara gasped.

"What?"

"Or his parents…" She trailed off, and turned around.

Six. Seven. Eight.

***

Sara and Greg sat in the interrogation room across from the Maguires. Andrew Maguire nervously tapped his foot. Once. Twice. Three times.

Sara cleared her throat, "Tell me about your relationship with your son."

"I - We…" Lillian Maguire began.

Andrew cut in, "We love Benji, he is our life!"

Lillian choked back a sob. Sara examined her jewelry - four bracelets, two rings.

"So," said Greg calmly, "you'd never hurt him?"

"Are you accusing us of something?" Andrew angrily asked.

"No - "

Sara cut him off. "We found cuts and bruises on his body."

Lillian shook her head. "No," her voice cracked, "he gets bullied at school."

Sara slammed her hand against the table and walked out.

***

Liars.

It took Sara six seconds to get to the door. Grissom stood outside of it, watching through the glass window.

"Sara,"

She breathed in deeply, preparing herself for a lecture.

"Take tomorrow off."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Grissom looked at her, "Telling you, as a friend."

"I need to finish this case," said Sara, shaking her head.

"You need a break. Rest, then go out and do something - live a little."

"I can't just leave the case!"

"Greg can handle it," Grissom said with a smile, "and you can come back on Saturday and look at it with a fresh point of view."

Sara bit her lip to keep from arguing. She turned around and walked away.

One. Two. Three.

***

Sara sat at her dining room table with her laptop in front of her, and her wine glass to her left. Every inch of available space, on her small table, was plastered with papers regarding her case.

It was 12:07 am on Friday night.

Sara, who hadn't had a Friday night off in three months and 14 days, didn't know what to do with herself. She was too jittery to sleep, and too reclusive to go out. So she resorted back to work.

She lifted her glass to her lips and swallowed what was left of her wine. 11. It had taken her 11 drinks to get to the bottom of her glass. Next time, Sara decided, she would take smaller sips.

Tapping her fingertips against the wood, Sara carefully examined her notes on the case. Sara was certain the parents were lying. But what was nagging her more, was the fact that the case just didn't make sense. How did the boy end up dead in the Bellagio fountains with no one noticing?

Sara sighed. The Vegas Strip was a tourist trap - and the fountains were no acceptation. People were always there.

So how come there were no witnesses?

Sara stood up in frustration. Maybe she just needed another drink. 12. 13. 14 steps to her kitchen counter. She reached for the bottle - it was half empty. This time Sara didn't bother with a glass. The liquid sloshed around as she slowly raised it to her lips.

Sara breathed out a sigh of content. She placed the bottle down and walked out of the kitchen.

***