Grissom sits in the lab, all the evidence against Sara laid out in front of him. He sighs lightly as he grabs his ringing cell phone out of his pants, "Grissom." he says, expecting to hear Sara's voice. Instead, he hears a male voice.
"How did a hundred and fifteen pound woman sidestep you two?" he says as he leans back in the chair he is seated in, "Are you kidding me?"
Grissom listens, soon appologizing when he hears what Sara did to them.
"She's at a bar?" he asks quietly in response to their statement, gently rubbing his head, "Alright, I'll be out there in about half an hour."
Grissom goes about writing down the directions for the bar. Soon he is on his way out the door.
At six o'colk Grissom arrives at the 'Flying Duke' bar. He parks, quickly getting out, he moves toward his two cop buddies.
"I'm really sorry about her behavior." he says as both his friends shrug it off, "I owe you big time."
"She's all yours." says the heavy cop, "Been in there for about an hour now." they get into the car.
"Hey," Grissom says as they roll down their window, "thanks for keeping this quiet."
"No problem." says the other cop, "You do owe us." they leave the parking lot.
Grissom turns toward the building. It is an older structure, with a sort of wood cabin look to it. The sign above the door is lit in purple, cursive letters spelling out 'Flying Duke'.
Grissom enters the front door, his mind only on Sara.
He see's her sitting up at the bar, a beer bottle in her grasp, her body leaned into the bar top in front of her. He also notices that her jeans are pulling low in the back, showing a bright pair of pink thong panties and a good bit of pale flesh.
He quickly goes over to her, his hand pulling the back of her shirt down in order to cover her peek-a-boo underwear.
Sara turns so suddenly, that she falls off the stool, her hand flying up and smacking Grissom in the face.
He catches her, gently pushing her back up to the cushioned seat.
"Sorry." she says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "I thought you were that guy again."
Grissom's eyes get narrow, "What guy?" he looks around to see who may be watching her.
"Some jerk came over and put his hand down the back of my pants." she raises her beer to Grissom, "Want one?"
"What are you doing here, Sara?" he asks as he pulls up a stool next to her, his body leaned in close to her body for her protection.
"My job." she takes another swig of her beer, "I'm going to catch this guy."
"Is that why you are advertising half your ass to every guy in this place?" he sounds angry.
Sara looks at him, somewhat amazed at the fever in his voice, "I guess it worked on you." she says with a small smile on her lips, "Oh," she says as the smile fades from her lips, "I get it now." she takes another long drink of the cold beer, "Now I'm a sex maniac too."
"Why are you getting angry?" he asks, his eyes still looking around at the many men who seem to be hovering like vultures, "How many beers have you had now?"
She looks away from him, "If you stay here I won't be able to catch him." she says as she holds up her finger to tell the bartender she needs another beer, "He'll think I am with you."
"You are with me." Grissom says quietly as he watches her pop the top off the beer, "That beer isn't going to solve anything, Sara." he says softly, his eyes roving her beautiful face.
"It sure makes things feel better." she says as she peels the label off, "What makes you feel better, Grissom?" she questions as she turns her head to look at him again, "Watching over me like I am some sort of child?"
"You know that is not what I am doing." he says as he answers his cell phone. He slides his warm hand over Sara's, "I've got to take this. Meet me outside in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later Sara exits the bar, her coat wrapped around her, her hat lopsided on her head. She ignores Grissom as she walks slowly over to his car. She stands there with her hand on the door handle, waiting to get inside.
He comes over and opens the door for her, "You feeling okay?"
"Fine." she says dryly as she plops her small form into his passenger seat, "I need heat." she says as Grissom closes her door.
He gets in, putting the heater on high as soon as he starts the car, "I don't want you coming here, by yourself, ever again."
Sara is laid back in the seat, her eyes closed, "Why do I feel like a naughty teenagaer?"
"Maybe because you are acting like one." he says quietly and then adds, "Put your seatbelt on."
She pulls the seatbelt across her, gently securing it in place, "I'm sorry about your cop friends." she says as she looks at Grissoms' somber face, "But, " she says, pulling her coat and shirt aside in order to look at her shoulder, "they left bruises on me." she eyes him, his gaze drifting to her exposed shoulder, "I don't like to be manhandled."
"I know." Grissom says softly as he leans down to kiss the bruised skin, "Does that make it better?"
Again, for the second time that day, Sara is taken aback, "Did you just kiss my shoulder?" she finds herself asking, not sure if the alcohol is really getting to her or not.
"Perfectly natural." he says as he pulls out onto the road, "My mom always kissed my bruises away."
Sara is confused and it shows in her face, "So if Catherine got a bruise, you would do the same for her?"
Grissom ignores this question, "Let's say we talk about mishandlings."
Sara immediately feels her stomach cramp up, "What do you mean?"
They stop at a red light, Grissom turning to look at her, "I'm taking you in for the rape kit."
"No your not." she says quickly, her stomach tightening even more, "I told you, I wasn't raped."
"You told me," he turns down the heat on the heater, "you weren't coherent." he raises an eyebrow at her, "Anything could have happened, Sara."
She sits up straighter, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, "That didn't happen." she says faintly.
Grissom studies her, "What are you comparing it to?"
"Drive." she says as she lifts her hand to point at the light, "It's green."
They drive in silence.
Finally, Sara looks at Grissom, "I'm comparing it to my own rape." she says softly, her eyes studying Grissom, "I was young. Real young when it happened."
Grissom looks at her, showing his concern for her in his eyes.
"He was my math teacher. He would purposely fail me on all my tests so I would have to stay after school and get help from him." her voice is low, scratchy, "It happened one day when he slid his hand up my skirt." she glances at Grissom, his eyes are on the road, "It actually hurt a lot, I mean, I was young and..."
"Did you tell anyone?" Grissom says as they pull into the hospital parking lot. He shuts off the engine, his only concern now being Sara, "Your mom, your dad?"
Sara, a tear forming in her eye, looks at Grissom, "My foster mother was too busy drinking." she shrugs as the tear meets her cheek, "And my foster father was too busy working."
Grissom reaches over and wipes her cheek, "Let's get you inside."
Everything goes quickly enough, but Sara still feels violated. When she comes out of the small room she had been examined in, she looks haunted, lost.
Grissom puts his arm around her small shoulders and leads her out into the night.