Hey Guys,

Sorry it's been so long since I updated, life has been hectic the past two weeks. Couple that fact with a severe form of writer's block and you get...late updates.

Anyway, here's a new chapter. I urge you guys to please continue this story, trust me, once they close the case, that's when the exciting stuff is going to start. How about a little teaser to keep you guys interested? One of the things that will happen in this story is...The connection between Griffin and Sara will be revealed. If you want to try and figure it out by yourself, a hint will be: don't think conventionally. This connection is a strong and complicated one.

Please keep reviewing; it helps counter the writer's block. Also, any suggestions are more than welcome. Feel free to PM me as well.

Xxx

IronAngel 240

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There was something bothering Warrick about their case, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was sure they were missing something. Hence the reason, he was back in the AV room re-watching the bad snuff movie.

He fast forwarded the frames until he got to the scene where the Security Guard got up from the bed. Warrick then secluded and stilled the image, he continued forward to where the Killer appeared on screen. He then also secluded and stilled the image. Warrick looked at the two pictures side by side for a few moments. Suddenly, it was like wiping fog off a mirror. Warrick all of the sudden see what they had been missing!

He quickly pulled up a grid and measured the height of the man in each picture.

"Damn!" Warrick huffed, "The security guard was telling the truth. There is another guy there; he almost one and three-quarter inches taller than the security guard."

"Our minds must have filled in the negative space," said Sara from her position at Warrick's left as she shook her head.

"Look," said Griffin as she leaned in between her two colleagues and referred to the computer screen, "The security guard just left. You can see the door's shadow right there at the foot of the bed."

Warrick and Sara both peered closely at the indicated spot and sure enough the shadow of the door briefly flashed across the foot of the bed as it opened and closed.

"The camera stopped moving," observed Sara.

"That's because he's not behind it," said Warrick, "He's in front of it."

"Well," said Griffin as she straightened, "Then that's our guy."

"There's got to be some way to ID him, right?" Griffin asked the older CSIs.

"I have enlarged and re-enlarged every single frame," said Warrick dejectedly, "There are no tats, there are no birthmarks, there's nothing there, G."

"What about the rest of the room?" Griffin asked, desperately grasping at any hope of finding some evidence.

"The film picks up everything there is to see, Griffin," Warrick said in a slightly irritated voice, "We've seen everything!"

Griffin was silent for a moment as she looked at the screen. Then she had an idea.

"Maybe there's a short end," she murmured.

"What?" asked a confused Warrick.

"Pornos use short ends of film," explained Sara, using her newly gained knowledge on the adult entertainment industry, "Which means they never know when they're gonna run out."

"Roll out," agreed Griffin, "Camera slows down, the last frame stutters, gets hit with more light."

"So," Warrick mused as he followed their train of reasoning, "There would be more visual information on it."

"Right," confirmed Griffin absentmindedly. Her eyes widened slightly as she said, "Good editors always cut the roll out."

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"So, all your editor's cuttings are in there?" Griffin asked the film processor in a raised voice as she struggled to be heard over the pouring rain.

"Yep," said the snarky film processor as she led them to a metal drum filled with off cuts of film, "Negatives and unused dailies. Collection guy comes once a week. Silver in the film makes it environmentally unsafe for landfills, so..." she smirked as she looked down at the drum that was overflowing with cut offs of film.

"Be nice if people were as worried about the woman in these films," said Sara in a tenaciously sarcastic tone. Griffin had to suppress a grin as the film processor threw back her shoulders defensively and said, "I am the one that called y'all, remember? Knock yourselves out, ladies."

The film processor waved her hands between Griffin and Sara, rudely pushing them apart so as the get past them as she walked away.

"Thank you," said Griffin dryly as she watched with narrowed eyes as the film processor walked away. She then turned to the barrel and sighed in a loud a sarcastic voice, "Bins of sin."

"Well," said Sara as she and Griffin put down their kits and surveyed the barrel, "Looks like mostly 35mm. Our 16 should have settled... at the bottom?"

Griffin chuckled humourlessly as tugged at the tip of her CSI ball cap. She then helped Sara to tip over the huge barrel, spilling its content of film onto the ground in front of them.

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The rain continued to pour down loudly over Las Vegas, as Griffin and Sara scrounged through the off cuts of film. They had been at it for almost three hours and had gotten about a quarter of a way through the pile.

Eventually Sara, who was peering at a piece of film through a magnifying glass, broke the silence by saying, "You notice how many guys in these movies are wearing condoms?"

Griffin laughed quietly as she continued to go through her pile of film and explained, "Yeah, industry policy ever since '98. The even have a quarantine list of whose positive, whose not. That security guard wore one too; pretty surprising for unregulated porn."

"Maybe she made him wear one," said Sara as she picked up yet another piece of film. She looked at it closely for a moment with her flashlight before she broke out in a grin and said triumphantly, "I got it!"

"You did?" asked Griffin half excitedly half disbelieving.

"I got it, I found it," confirmed Sara her smile still plastered on her face.

"Thank God!" said Griffin relieved as she took the piece of film from Sara.

"Hot frame all right," she said as she looked at it, "I still can't see who it is."

"You can see a little more of the room though," said Sara, "There's a small table and a lamp in the left corner."

Griffin slowly smiled as she spotted it, "Good eye, Sara. Yeah, that... kitsch lamp. Somebody moved it out into the lobby."

"I'll have Warrick go back to the hotel and grab it," offered Sara.

"Yeah, that'll be great. Thanks."

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Warrick and Griffin were in the layout room looking at developed still they had gotten from the piece of roll out.

"There's the lamp I got from the lobby," said Warrick pointing to the picture with his finger. "The bulb is red, in the film and here," he referred to the lamp on the table next to him.

Griffin leaned on the table and said, "Guy thinks he's Zelman King, playing with the lighting."

"Yeah, I guess he was going for a certain look," said Warrick.

"Mmm."

Warrick put the picture down as a thought occurred to him and he looked over at the lamp.

"You know if I unscrewed a hot light bulb," theorized Warrick as he walked over to the lamp, "I'd probably lick my fingers."

"Saliva," said Griffin as Warrick unscrewed the lamp's light bulb. "Guy replaced it with a red bulb, got residual saliva on it."

"I'll have Greg process it for DNA, run it through CODIS," said Griffin as she took the bulb from Warrick and exited the layout room.

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Sara was feeling exhausted as she walked down the corridor's of CSI. Her shoulders hunched as she tiredly rubbed her burning her eyes.

"Sara!"

Sara spun around, her jaw clenching in fury as she heard her name spill from the lips of someone she despised. Hank Pettigrew hurried up to her and with every step he took Sara's jaw clenched harder. The sandy haired EMT stood right in front of her and Sara growled, "What do you want, Hank?"

"Sara," Hank pleaded in a low voice, "C'mon, I just wanted to talk."

"Was my knee in your groin to subtle for you?" Sara hissed furiously. "That was me telling you to get the hell out of my life!"

"Sara," said Hank in a tired voice, as if he were trying to explain something to a difficult toddler; this only pissed her off more. "I told you, that was an accident."

"Oh," said Sara with a sarcastic smile as she folded her arms over her chest, "So, my face happened to be in the way of the back of your hand?"

Hank's face darkened into a scowl and he growled, "Why must you always be so difficult?"

"Why are you still bothering me?" Sara retorted as she turned away.

Hank suddenly grabbed her arm roughly and spun her around into his chest and whispered furiously into her ear, "You know, that smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble someday, Sara."

"Get your hands off me, Hank," Sara warned even as a hint of fear worked her way into her voice. She already hated herself for that touch of fear, after all; Sara was not her mother. Hank's grip just tightened as his eyes narrowed. Just as her free hand touched the butt of her Glock, Sara felt a presence beside her and, despite the tense situation she was in, with Hank's grip only tightening with every second he held on, Sara felt her whole body relax. She felt at ease; safe.

"If you want to keep that hand," said Griffin nonchalantly, not even looking up, as she continued to read the report in her hands, "I suggest you get it off her."

Hank looked down at the small girl and, because he still held onto her arm, Sara felt a shiver course through him as he looked at Griffin.

Strange, thought Sara as she tilted her head to the side (now that she felt Griffin's calming presence, Sara could afford to be analytical), he almost looks like she makes him nervous.

The more Sara thought about it, the more she realized that Griffin seemed to radiate a dangerous aura, an energy that seemed to scream 'back the f*** off'. Yet, Sara only ever felt safe and calm in Griffin's presence. As if no harm could befall her so long as the dark haired girl was at her side...

"And who the hell are you?" Hank sneered. Griffin looked up and then flipped the file shut with an audible snap.

"I'm the one who's going to rip your arm out of its socket if you don't let go of Sara," Griffin said in a dangerously calm voice, her dark eyes flashing menacingly. After a few seconds of silence, in which Hank still didn't let go of Sara's arm, Griffin smirked and taunted, "You must be a special kind of stupid, you know that?"

Hank's eyes narrowed and he sneered, "Really? Why's that, Little Girl?"

Griffin seemed totally unfazed by the taunt and her smirk simply grew more pronounced as she answered, "Only a complete idiot would walk into a Police Department filled with armed cops and assault a fellow officer of the law, in broad daylight. Knowing how defensive cops get over their own kind."

Griffin's words seemed to register with Hank. He clenched his jaw and bowed his head and looked to the side, as if only now realised where he was. Sara watched Hank's jaw clench and unclench twice before he finally released Sara's arm. She let out an almost inaudible gasp as blood once again flowed through her arm, but Griffin's eyes still flashed briefly towards Sara, filled with concern. Sara rubbed her now reddened arm and gave a small nod of her head towards Griffin, confirming she was okay. Griffin's jaw clenched and her eyes hardened as she once again turned back to the EMT.

"This is the part where you leave," Griffin said as if she were talking to a mentally disabled person.

Hank scowled as he stepped back and said to Sara, "This isn't over, Sara."

Sara's face hardened and she growled, "Good-bye, Hank."

Hank looked at Griffin from the corner of his eye before he turned and walked out of CSI. Sara stiffened as she waited for the bombard of questions that she was sure was going to come flowing from Griffin. But the young CSI once again surprised Sara when, instead of interrogating Sara about Hank, flipped open the folder and said, "Greg got a hit on the residual DNA from the kitsch lamp. It belongs to one Douglas Sampson. The guy did three years for sexual assault and battery. Warrick and I are on our way to his official residence to question him with Sulik."

Sara blinked at the sudden change of topic, and before she could register what she was doing, she blurted out, "What, no twenty questions?"
Griffin arched a delicate eyebrow before she sighed and once again closed her file. She folded her arms across her full chest and said, "Sara, I haven't know you very long, but I've come to know a few things about you. For instance, you don't like being labelled a victim; which is why you haven't told anyone about that bruise I'm assuming that idiot Hank gave to you. You like people to know you can take care of yourself, so you never ask for help even when you know you need it... In fact, I'm actually starting to think you don't know how to ask for help."

Sara swallowed past the lump in her throat as Griffin continued in a softer tone, "That's why I know that if I bombard you with questions, or threaten to tell Grissom about this, that you will become defensive and pissed off and end up shutting me out completely.

"So, even though it causes me serious trepidation" said Griffin with a sigh, "I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing; and hope that you will trust me enough to let me help. Because you need to realise that you are a strong, beautiful, highly intelligent, independent woman and no man is ever allowed to make you feel inferior without your consent."

Sara stared at Griffin in complete shock; she had not been expecting this. She was expecting to argue, fight, plead, and eventually beg Griffin to drop the subject. Yet, here Griffin was saying that she wasn't going to force the door open, she wanted Sara to open it willingly.

Griffin reached into her back pocket and pulled out a business card and pen. She scribbled something on the back of the card before she handed it back to the brunette in front of her.

"If you do decide to trust me, which I sincerely hope you do," Griffin said as she looked intently at Sara with her fathomless brown eyes, "Here's my personal cell number and my home address. Anytime you need me for any reason, day or night; you call me, okay?"

Sara stared at the small piece of card that was held out to her before she took it. She struggled for a moment to speak past the lump in her throat that was threatening to dissolve into tears, before she whispered, "Thank you."

Griffin smiled before she gently caressed Sara's upper arm and walked away; leaving Sara alone in the hallway staring at the card in her hand...

Don't shoot me! I would never let a bastard like Hank get away with hurting our Sara. He's gonna pay ;). Please don't forget to review.