Disclaimer: I put them on my wish list, but Santa didn't bring me them for Christmas….I don't own them!

A/N: DUN DUN DUHHHHHH….Lol I'm back with another chapter! Work and school has been so crazy, and I've been so tired….ughhh…anyways, here's the 7th chapter! I'm starting this case file, but don't get freaked out, since the fairytales will come back. Hope y'all like it, and please review!

The ride to the crime scene was surprisingly relaxing, with the exception of the sexual tension that still plagued the two CSI's. Sara caught Grissom looking at her through the corner of her eye, and looked at him. He quickly averted his eyes, causing her to chuckle.

"You should keep your eyes on the road, Griss," she laughed. "It's no good if we're killed on the way to the crime scene."
Grissom just scowled.

They arrived at the crime scene shortly after, and followed the crime scene tape up to a large brick house. Showing their ID to the officer, they entered the house, and looked around.

The house had a large welcoming area, with an expensive looking chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Oil canvases were spread out across a railing that led up a winding staircase to an upper level.

Brass' voice rang down at them. "Up here guys, first one on your left. And it's not pretty."

The two carefully made their way up the stairs, staring at the canvases as they went. Whoever had painted these pictures looked to be severely troubled. Globs of black and red oil paints were streamed over the canvasses, with words like death and hate scribbled over them.

Sara shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder about people," she said, looking at Grissom.

He shrugged, at a loss for words.

Once they reached the top of the staircase, they walked over to an open bedroom. Sara had to keep herself from gagging.

"Meet Christina Macmann, thirty-two, owns a gallery down on the strip. Neighbor called PD after the mail started piling up," Brass said, nodding to the body.

A small woman with jet black hair stared up at them. Her mouth was twisted in a grimace, her eyes staring in lifeless terror. Grissom noted a gunshot to the chest, but oddly enough, her throat was slashed as well. A puddle of blood had formed around her, soaking her white blouse and hair. Her hands were splayed at her sides, and a knife lay at her feet.

Sara looked at Grissom. "Well, obviously looks like there's signs of foul play."

Grissom nodded. "I'm not seeing a gun anywhere around her. Even if she tried to slit her throat and shoot herself, we'd have two weapons lying there, not one." He looked at Brass. "Has the coroner been called in yet?"

Brass nodded. "Far as I know, David's on his way."
A loud crash sounded behind them. They walked to the stairwell and saw the young man, smiling sheepishly at them. "Sorry I'm late. Took a wrong turn."

Grissom smirked. "It's all right David. The bodies up here, could you come assist us."

David nodded, heading for the staircase.

Grissom turned to Sara. "Ok, I'll finish up with the body, and then we can get started on the bedroom."

Sara nodded. "I'll start processing the staircase and the rest of the house."

Grissom nodded his head, gave her a quick wink, and headed off to the bedroom, leaving her standing there.

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It took Sara a good two hours to go over the staircase and print the railing. Collecting her evidence, she placed everything in her case and headed to the bedroom, where Grissom had already started processing.

There was an officer posted at the door, but Brass and the others had left an hour ago, leaving the two CSI's to their work.

Grissom was crouched near the area where the body had laid previously. He turned, standing when she entered the room. "Find anything?"

Sara nodded. "Lots of prints on the railing, and I found a couple of muddy shoeprints at the bottom of the staircase. Looked in the kitchen and guest bedroom, but found nothing out of the ordinary besides a few more paintings," she said. "Something seemed….happier about those ones, not as depressing. I swabbed a sample of the paints on the canvases on the staircase, and it looks as though the words may have been added as an after thought."

Grissom nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Or, perhaps our assailant added them after doing away with the victim. Maybe as an additional way to ruin her life."

Sara nodded in agreement. "Find anything in here?"

He nodded. "Found a shell casing under the bed, possibly from one of the murder weapons." He walked over to his kit and pulled out a plastic evidence bag. "She had this in her left pocket."

Sara took the bag and looked at it. It was a small charm bracelet, with various expensive looking pendants. One of the links seemed to be broken off, a small golden chain link in its place.

"Looks like something fell off here, or maybe broken off," Sara pondered, examining the bracelet. "Maybe in a struggle. Her attacker could have taken it with them. Did you-"

"Looked all through the bedroom. Unless you found it, it's not here," he replied. He looked at the wall clock in the bedroom. "It's getting late. Why don't we head back?"

Sara nodded. "Sure. You have everything here?"

He nodded.

"Alright, let's hit the road," she said, and walked out of the bedroom, Grissom following her.

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When they got back to the lab, they split up to drop evidence off in various places. It was well passed the end of shift. Grissom met up with her in his office.

"Trace is backed up," Sara said, taking a seat in front of his desk. He nodded.

"I got the bullet back from Doc Robbins, and it's from a nine millimeter. COD is obvious, that she bled out. Both the shot and the cut were enough to kill her," he said, eying her. "Shift's over."

She smiled, crossing her legs. He eyed her from his seat.

"I believe we had a previous arrangement?" he asked suggestively, smirking at her. "Breakfast? My place?"

Her smile grew, silently glad that they could finally be alone, able to talk in private. "Give me an hour?"

He nodded. "I'll be waiting."