Chapter 4

The trip to the lab was a quiet one. Sara felt Grissom's eye on her in the rear view mirror several times but continued staring out the window. Once at the lab, with a description in hand, she was pointed in the direction of where she could find Catherine Willows. Inside one of the labs she found a woman fitting the discretion she was given…

"Do you know where I can find Catherine Willows?" Sara asked the woman, just to be sure.
"She's out in the field," the woman told her. Confused Sara looked down at the information she was given but looked up as the woman spoke again, "let me guess, Sara Sidle?"
"I know who I am. I think you're a little confused," Sara stated.

"If you think you're taking my case ... forget it," Catherine snapped. With a sigh Sara tried a different approach,

"Look, we can stand here and argue ... or ... we can get out there and find out who did this to Holly Gribbs," Sara paused giving Catherine a pointed look, "…two sharp women are better than one."

Catherine let up on her frustration a little to share the evidence she had so far. It wasn't much but it was a start. Not wanting to tread on her toes any more than she had too Sara moved on quickly, asking for Warrick's whereabouts. She was pointed in the direction of a local casinos.

She found him at a blackjack table in one of the casinos. Pulling him away from the game, they went to a coffee shop to talk.

"So ... let me get this straight. You were assigned by Jim to shadow a trainee, a robbery comes up on M.L.K, and you go for coffee" Warrick raised an eyebrow at the use of his former supervisors first name, he was known simply as Brass in the lab. This woman obviously had some sort of relationship with the man that hadn't been shared with them at the announcement of her coming here.

"An officer was there," Warrick supplied.

"So, you felt safe to leave? Do you know the policies and procedures for clearing a scene?" Sara asked.

"Yes," he told her.

"Then, why'd you leave? I mean, what was so important that you had to rush out of there?" she continued.

"I told you. I went for coffee," he lied. Unfortunately for him Sara already had already worked out that this wasn't true.

"Was that before or after you made your bets? Sunday ... Vegas ... NFL football ... guy like you ... come on, you trying to tell me that you didn't make a little pit stop?" not getting any answer from the man across from her Sara demanded, "Look at me. Did you log on ... tell dispatch where you were going?"

"Do you know how many times I've been left alone at a crime scene when I was a rookie?" Warrick shot back defensively.

"Yeah, well, this time is different," Sara told him sadly.

"Yeah, why's that?" Warrick demanded.

"Holly Gribbs died on the operating table twenty minutes ago," she informed him.

She watched as the realization hit him, he was partially responsible for someone's death. What he didn't know was that Sara had more experience in violence and death than anyone her age should.

15 years earlier

Sara woke in a hospital, as she had a couple of times before, and unlike most people it calmed her. Being in hospital meant that she was being taken care of. It was a place she felt protected, safe. Whenever she had ended up in hospital the nurses and doctors had shown a gentleness she had previously not known. Even her parent acted differently when she was in the hospital, well except the last time.

The last time she had woken in a hospital it had been to the realization that her father was dead. Killed by her own mother. Her mother had been taken away by the police and she was being directed towards another police car. It was finally what had pushed her over the edge that day. She was told she had had a panic attack and passed out. She had been admitted for observation but released to social services the next day.

Since that day she hadn't been back to a hospital. The family she had been placed with had been nice enough. There was another younger girl, Emma, they had living with them and even with the large age difference, Emma was five to Sara's twelve, they had spent all their time at home together. Their foster parents were kind enough to them, feeding them regularly and making sure they had clothing that fit even if they were used, but they fought with each other constantly. Not physically, just verbally, but after years of witnessing her parents fight it still frightened Sara. Emma would regularly crawl into bed at night with Sara as their foster parents yelled and screamed at each other down stairs.

When they had started fighting about directions in the car Sara had curled up in a ball on the floor trying to block out the noise. Emma had been whimpering in her seat. The last thing she had heard was the screeching of tires. Now waking up in the familiar white room, Sara basked in the silence of the room. It took a moment to realize something warm was attached to her hand restraining it. Looking over she saw a police man holding her hand as he slept. Studying him she recognized him as the officer who had tried to take her away in the police car. Startled she tried to pull her hand away.

When her hand wasn't released she started to panic. Pulling franticly to free her hand, the sounds of machines started to beep around her. The movement and noise woke the police officer and he jumped up releasing her hand as some nurses rushed into the room. He was ushered out of the room as they tried to sooth her. It took a few minutes for her to start to calm down but as she did her eyes closed and once again she slept.

Present

Leaving Warrick, Sara returned to the lab to start on her report. Stopping by the break room to grab a soda she finds a stressed Catherine,

"You want one?" She asked indicating to the soda can in her hand.

"Is there anything in there with alcohol?" Catherine mumbled rubbing her temples.

Sara moved to sit down as a pager went off. Both women pulled out their pager, finding nothing they look down at the vibrating evidence bag on the table. Grabbing it up Catherine quickly pulled out her cell phone and dials the number blinking across the pager screen. Sara watched puzzled as Catherine raised the phone to her ear,

"What are you going to say? "Hi, I'm a Criminalist. I was in the neighborhood ..." Sara asked.

"Shh, it's ringing," Catherine whispered as excitement ran through her. Through the phone she hears a "Hello" as it is answered. "Uh, hey," she said not really sure at what she should say.

"Who's this? I just dialed my own damn beeper," she is asked by a male voice.

"Uh-uh. It's my beeper now. I found it," she told the person, with a ditzy type voice, on the other end of the line.

"It ain't your beeper, girl. It's mine." Sara watches as Catherine concentrates on what the person is saying "I do a lot of business on that beeper."

"What kind of business?" she asked.

"You know - slinging a little something-something," a little shocked that he offered the information up so easily, she wished all criminals were so easy to fool.

"Oh, a little something-something. Or maybe a little bling- bling?" she held back a smile as Sara raised her eyebrows.

"So what you know about some bling-bling?" this man was making this just too easy.

"Well, invite me over to your crib, baby and you might find out," she offered the hook.

"It's on. Three Aces Motel, Room 202," and he took it.

"Three Aces Motel, Room 202," she sighs expectantly as she repeats the address.

"See you soon," he told her as he disconnected.

"You certainly will," Catherine mumbled as a smile spread across her face. Looking at Sara she asked, "…did I just do that?"

"What's a "bling-bling"?' was all Sara could say as the women grinned at each other.

"Got me." Catherine answered as they headed out the door, Catherine with a phone to her ear as she requested back up to the address.

CSI

"What are you doing here?" Catherine asked upon finding Brass at the motel.

"Guilt therapy," he told her before turning to Sara who was standing behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"Working the case," she told him with a huff as Catherine watched the exchange.

"Will you be okay?" he asked.

"I've done this plenty of times, I'm fine. Now can we arrest this guy already," she reassured him ignoring Catherine's look.

He looked at her for a minute before passing and banging on the door. Opening the door they rush in as the man tried to escape through the window. Several officers caught him pushing him to the bed as they hand cuffed him. He looked up as Catherine entered and revealed herself to be the woman he had been on the phone with. Noticing the scratch on his cheek DNA was taken. The officers pushed him through the door followed by Catherine as Sara stayed in the room with Jim.

"You do understand I am trained for this type of situation right?" Sara asked quietly.

"I know, but it's hard seeing you in them. I often wonder if I should have tried harder to direct your attention away from a life in law enforcement," he told her. She sighed.

"Jim, the experiences I've had have led me here. The way you cared for me, for other victims made me want to help people, that is not a bad thing," she told him resting a hand on his arm, "…you made sure I was as prepared as anyone could be for this life. I am trained in self defense. I am still seeing a shrink on regular occasions. Yes there are cases that are hard but I can take care of myself, and I have you to thank for that. You just need to trust me, trust that I know when to take a step back."

She gave his cheek a kiss as they hugged each other. Both of them missed seeing Catherine in the doorway and she had moved away by the time they separated.

"Now I think you owe me a dinner before I head back to the lab to finish off my report," Sara said with a smile.