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plkphoto shows Sara bargaining with the best.
Sara pulled an envelope from the pile and tore it open to read:
Prize Token from CircusCircus
Celebrity Autograph
She stared blankly at the paper for a moment, hoping that it might change or perhaps provide her with some suggestions. The CircusCircus ticket sounded relatively easy, until she thought back to what Grissom had said, "trade, borrow, or rent." Winning a ticket herself likely counted as buying.
Maybe she'd be able to find one that someone had dropped or left behind in one of the machines. Either way, it was pretty straightforward, and she knew where she had to go once she finished her accidental death report from the night before.
The second item, however, was much more daunting. Sure, celebrities regularly came to Vegas. And sure, someone like Greg or Archie would probably know exactly where and how to get an autograph in an instant. But Sara had never been that excited about following popular culture or collecting mementos for those artists she did like. She had no idea how to go about getting an autograph.
Maybe she could borrow something. She glanced around the room at the others who were gathering assignments or peering at their envelopes. Greg and Archie were most likely to have something, but both were very competitive and unlikely to lend it to her.
Sara wandered over to the coffee maker, hoping inspiration would strike, and grabbed a mug at random from the drainer. As she held it up to breathe in the wonderful aroma of Greg's Blue Hawaiian, she glanced at the picture on it. A tan horse with a golden mane raced across the green fields, a fence far in the distance. Picturesque, but rather cheesy.
Sara's gaze sharpened, suddenly, as she realized exactly where she could get a celebrity autograph. She glanced around the room, but Grissom had already left. Leaving her coffee by the report, she strode off through the corridors in search of him. She glanced through the glass walls to make sure he wasn't in each of the labs as she passed them on the way to his office.
As she rounded the last corner, Grissom stepped out of his office with his kit in hand, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, Grissom?" she called, and waited until he turned toward her. His expression said that he was in a bit of a hurry, but she asked anyway, "You got a minute?"
"Actually, I'm on my way to a scene," he said, waving his assignment slip through the air as evidence. He motioned down the hall as Sara came up beside him, and they started walking toward the exit. "Can it wait or do you need me right now?"
She shook her head, "No, no. It can wait."
"You sure? Because you can ride with me and we can talk on the way."
They had reached the exit, and he paused a moment to check her expression. She smiled back at him. "I'm sure. I just wanted to ask you something about one of my scavenger hunt items. Besides, I have that report I need to finish."
He nodded. "This shouldn't take long. I'll let you know when I'm done."
Sara nodded her agreement, then waved as he headed out the door. She turned and retraced her steps back toward the break room, mentally shifting gears from thoughts of the scavenger hunt to details of last night's case. A young girl had died in a tragic accident and Sara wanted to complete her paperwork as quickly as possible so the family could lay her to rest.
She lost herself in the work, describing the evidence and filling in the appropriate timeline. People passed by in the corridor outside, but she barely registered their presence as she worked.
After she finished the last paragraph, Sara gathered her paperwork into its folder and rinsed her coffee mug. There was no sign that Grissom was back yet, so she decided to hit the restroom, leaving the folder lying on the table.
When she returned, she caught a glimpse of Grissom leaving the break room with a steaming mug of coffee. She quickly gathered her report folder from the break room then headed toward his office.
Grissom was already sitting at his desk with his laptop open, likely going through evidence from his scene. She had leaned against the doorway and was preparing to knock, when he looked up and smiled then beckoned her to sit across from him. As she lowered herself into the seat, he closed his laptop presumably to give her his full attention.
"So," he asked quietly, "what's up?"
"Well I finished my report." She handed it across the desk to him. "And, uh, I was wondering if I could borrow your Trigger ownership certificate for a little while." She could feel herself blush slightly as she realized the oddness of this request. Of course, he had planned the hunt, so he probably knew exactly why she was asking. His next comment confirmed it.
"Are we bartering here?"
She really had no idea what to trade him for it, unless she had an item he needed. She decided to see what she could get away with. She shook her head, "No. I don't want to keep it. I just want to borrow it for a couple hours."
His grin looked more than slightly mischievous. "Sara, if I give it to you without getting something in return, then the others can rightfully accuse me of favoritism or claim that I helped you. We have to play by the rules."
Sara huffed in frustration, mumbling, "Borrowing's within the rules." But, she did see his point. There was a fine line between borrowing and helping, especially if both were in the hunt. His eyes twinkled in response, and she wondered what she was getting herself into.
"Okay," she acceded, "I'll rent the stupid thing from you from now until the end of shift. How ..."
Grissom's expression abruptly changed from playful to absolutely mortified, with a touch of genuine hurt in his eyes. She let her voice trail off.
"Stupid?" he asked, his voice indignant.
Sara couldn't help but roll her eyes, then she remembered the little boy glee with which he had described getting the certificate the first time they talked, and she smiled in amusement.
He misinterpreted her mirth and slowly shook his head, glaring at her in disapproval. "You think my Trigger certificate is stupid?"
Realizing that this wasn't the best way to convince him to lend the thing to her, she quickly backed down. Lest someone hear, she whispered, "Come on, Babe." She barely managed to suppress the urge to stroke his cheek, and actually leaned forward slightly raising her hand onto his desk.
She continued in her normal voice, "You know I don't really think it's stupid. I'm just a little frustrated right now because you have what I need and you're messing with me." She dropped her voice again, looking straight into his eyes, "It's cute and sentimental just like you."
He grinned at that, and she smiled softly back to show her sincerity. Before they got completely side-tracked and forgot that they were still at work, she broke the moment. "Okay, then. Now that we have that settled, how much?" She sighed at his slight look of confusion and shook her head. "How much is it going to cost to buy my way out of this?"
A smirk blossomed on Grissom's face. "What do you have to offer?"
Sara glared at him slightly, more than a little suspicious. "I've got seven dollars in my purse, or I can go to the ATM for more if you..."
Grissom shook his head, and cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I don't want your money, Sara." His voice dropped suggestively as he asked, "What else are you willing to give me?"
She stared at him, trying to read his expression, and unable to believe that he would delve into the personal at work. Then again, this morning she would never have guessed that he'd stage a lab-wide scavenger hunt. While she enjoyed the new relaxed Gil she was seeing away from work, it was a little disconcerting to see that personality in the Grissom of the lab.
She thought a moment, then replied, "What about... a full night together? No scanners, no pagers, no cell phones. Just us and the dog and the movie of your choice."
He shook his head slowly. "Since I make the schedules, that is something I'd be doing for us, not something you would be doing for me."
"O-okay." She drew the word out, thinking. "How about you arrange that night off and I'll --" she paused, glancing out the open doorway to make sure no one was nearby, then dropped her voice slightly, "be your sex slave for the night. Anything you want, kinky or not."
"Sara, honey." He coughed to clear his voice, then leaned over to check the hall a second time. He leaned back and rubbed his neck, flushing in embarrassment or arousal, she couldn't tell which, before continuing softly, "You would do that anyway and enjoy it just as much as I would, if not more. Again, that would be something for us."
"Well..." She raised an eyebrow. "What about the reverse, then? I'll tie you up and you can be my sex slave for a night."
"I would do that... if... you wanted me to," he admitted, his voice growing a little rough and the blush spreading further across his face.
Sara felt her eyes widen in shock, and gripped her knees to control her desire to try it right now. Aroused, her mind raced through possible scenarios as she watched his face to check his sincerity. Under her stare, he grew more nervous, and fumbled with the pager on his desk, but softly confirmed, "All you have to do is ask."
She traded a lust filled glance with him, then smirked, and mentally filed that knowledge away for a later date.
Grissom blew out a long breath, the flush fading, and continued in a more clinical tone, "Your sexual favors and skills, while admittedly mind-blowing, sensual and very loving; each blessed with their own unique charms and flavors, are not the way to go this time."
Sara smiled and blushed, pleased that he thought so. Then she shook her head slightly as she realized she was supposed to be getting something from him.
His moratorium on sexual related favors narrowed it down a lot. Sara tried to think of what else would interest him. "Okay, what about a tour of the Vegas coasters. We'll hit every one of them and I promise not to complain or get sick on you."
Grissom just raised a skeptical eyebrow, and shook his head. "Somehow the very real possibility of you depositing a regurgitated veggie burger in my lap, no matter how involuntarily, tends to put a damper on that idea."
Sara grinned slightly at the truth of that statement. "Ummm..." She glanced around the room for inspiration, but mostly saw work related items, insects, and books. Suddenly her gaze landed on his CD player. "How about a night at the opera? Just the two of us? We can get all dressed up, go out for a ridiculously expensive dinner, and just hang out until the fat lady sings?"
His head shake was a little more vigorous this time, and she threw up her hands in resignation, wondering what on earth he could possibly want.
"Sara, you know me better than anyone. Everything you are now suggesting are things that Greg or Hodges could come up with. Use that beautiful brain of yours and figure out something that you and only you would know I would enjoy. Something uniquely... I don't know..." He paused, thinking. Then resumed, punctuating the last word with a set of air quotes, "Grissomesque."
She smirked and stifled a giggle, wondering if she'd ever seen him use that gesture before. "'Grissomesque?' Is that even a word?"
Grissom's light glare was interrupted by a loud buzz from his pager as it rattled across his desk. Sara couldn't help but feel relieved that she didn't have to come up with an answer on the spot, but stayed seated as he held up a finger to keep her there.
He finished reading the display and looked back up at her. "Trick roll at CircusCircus." He sighed softly. "Sofia is at the scene. Do you want it or should I get someone else?" he asked as he tossed the pager back onto his desk.
She felt that this must be providential, but wondered why he would actually ask her if she wanted it. He got to pick the assignments, and she had just handed him her report so he knew she was free.
Her puzzlement must have shown on her face because he added, "I have a feeling we are not quite finished with this conversation."
"Oh." She thought about their resolution to keep the personal out of work and her need to make it over to CircusCircus anyway. "We'll just, uh, suspend it for a moment. I think a trip to CircusCircus might do me some good. Though I do wonder what kind of sicko would bring his 'trick' back to a family oriented hotel, and can't help but think that maybe he deserved to get 'rolled' for that." She grinned at him briefly, then rose from her seat. "You keep that Trigger certificate handy. I'm sure I'll have the perfect trade figured out before the end of the shift."
Grissom waved her off, then opened his laptop when she turned to leave. As she passed through the doorway, he called after her, "Yeah, well, it better be something good to make up for that 'stupid' remark."
Sara turned back to smirk at him, then headed to her office for her kit.
As she drove toward CircusCircus, she tried to think of things that she had discovered about Grissom that the others were unlikely to know. He loved to cook, and his kitchen was well stocked with the best kitchenware. Maybe he'd like to teach her, though that could prove disastrous and would likely be more work than fun for him.
He definitely liked fine literature and art, but that was something known at the lab, at least in a general sense. She might have a better sense of the specific authors and artists that he liked, though.
For a moment, she wondered if there was anything showing in town that would make a suitable date, then realized that she was as likely to get shot down over any kind of art as she had been over the opera. More so, actually, because the other forms of art he enjoyed would also be an enjoyment for her. She smiled as she thought about checking anyway, just for something a little different on their next night off.
"Okay, what does he like that the lab doesn't know about and that I wouldn't normally do?" she asked the dashboard. It had no answers.
When she reached the room where the crime had occurred, she was no nearer to finding a solution that she thought he would accept. Sofia was already interviewing the victim, a young man with tousled hair, wearing a white terrycloth robe emblazoned with the CircusCircus logo. Sara nodded at the detective and set down her kit.
Luckily, after years as a crime scene investigator, collecting evidence for a case like this was second nature to Sara. She went through the motions of collecting trace evidence and exclusionary prints as she listened to the victim's statement, taking photographs of the room, and processing a multitude of fingerprints and DNA samples. Meanwhile, her mind was wandering, as she tried to figure out how she could slip unobtrusively over to the Midway game area to look for a prize ticket.
After she finished processing the room, they left the man alone to think about the consequences of believing the "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" slogan.
Sara turned to Sofia as they rode down the elevator. "Hey, would you mind taking this stuff back to the lab and logging it in?" Sara lifted the evidence bag slightly. "I've really got to get something to eat and they've got a great deli here. After what happened with Nick I don't want to leave the stuff in my car, but I can grab you something if you'd like." She suddenly realized that she might be over-talking in her slight nervousness at doing something technically unrelated to work, and forced herself to stop.
Sofia didn't seem to notice, though. "That's no problem. I've already eaten, but I'll take a rain-check on that offer."
Sara nodded and handed her the bag of evidence as the elevator doors opened, but kept hold of her kit. "Thank you. I'll see you back at the station."
As she cruised the midway, her eyes peeled for any hint of a prize ticket lying unspotted on the floor or sticking from an unattended machine, Sara couldn't help but feel grateful that it was the middle of the night. She imagined that the place would be filled with screaming masses of children during the day, but now it was relatively peaceful.
Unfortunately the ones who remained were obviously serious gamers, each trying to collect enough tickets for whichever of the larger prizes had caught his or her eye. Vulture-like, they missed no opportunity to snatch up an abandoned ticket, and Sara soon found that her skills were not up to theirs in this matter.
She cast about for another solution as she wandered closer to the prize booth. These ticket sharks didn't seem to be likely candidates for a barter, either. At least, not in a trade for anything she could possibly possess.
Gathered around the prizes was a flock of children younger than the rest that she had seen and all wearing pointed birthday hats. Most looked to be around eleven or twelve, but one youngster couldn't have been more than six, likely the younger brother of the birthday boy or girl. Three frazzled parents stood by as the children tried to decide what toys they most wanted to get with their ticket strings. The fourth parent was trying to reason with the youngest, who was obviously tired and whiny.
Sara moved closer, listening to their conversation.
"But I want that one!"
"Dear, you only have one ticket. That one costs ten, you can have anything in this pile, though." The woman ran her hands through her hair, causing it to frizz outward an inch further.
"But those are boring! I want that one!" The boy's lower lip began to tremble. "Let's get more tickets, then."
The woman sighed, "What did we say at the beginning? Five dollar limit, and that's it. You used up all your money, so no more tickets." She shook her head as the boy prepared to argue again. "That was the deal. You can get something from that pile or you can keep the ticket, but no more quarters."
The boy seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, but the tears spilled out anyway. Obviously embarrassed to cry near his older friends, he turned away from his mother, muttering, "Those are stupid."
He walked away from the group, pouting, only to almost run into Sara. Suddenly he looked up and caught sight of her vest, and his eyes opened wide, tears subsiding. An idea slowly began to form in Sara's mind, and she smiled at the boy.
"Are you with the police?" the boy asked. When Sara nodded, he looked absolutely terrified, and stuttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything bad."
Sara couldn't help but laugh, then she stooped down to his level. "I'm not here because you did anything bad."
His mother suddenly noticed that he was talking to a stranger, and hurried over, then sighed in relief when Sara stood and flashed her badge. The woman started to stammer an apology, but Sara waved her off.
"He's fine," Sara assured her.
"Was there a crime here?" the woman asked, glancing around nervously.
Sara thought quickly. This could be her chance. "No, ma'am. Actually, I'm interested in talking to your son here for a little while. You see, I'm a crime scene investigator and it's the birthday for a very important person to the field of forensics, so we're trying to celebrate a little and spread the word about this valuable science." She paused and looked down at the young boy who was staring at her badge in fascination. "I thought maybe I could tell this young man a little story about investigation while the rest of your party collect their prizes."
The woman nodded her consent and her relief, then went back to stand with the other parents, probably explaining what had happened.
Sara stooped down again, then sat on her kit. "So, would you like to hear a story?"
The boy nodded, and sat on the floor in front of her. Sara noticed that both the parents and the other children were watching them, but she kept her attention on the boy.
"I'm going to tell you the story about how we catch bad guys, okay?"
The boy nodded vigorously, and Sara smiled. Maybe this would work after all.
"Well, today is the birthday of this very smart man named Edmond. He was really good at catching bad guys, and he had a theory. He said that every time we touch something, or go somewhere, we leave behind a piece of ourselves and pick up a piece of the place we visited. Sometimes it's just a little hair or the mark of our finger. So when a person does something bad, then a person like me or Edmond can come along afterward and find this evidence. And if we do find it, then we can use it to show other people who the bad guy was."
"But how can you tell?" the boy asked.
Before Sara could answer, the question was repeated several times, and she looked up to see that the rest of the birthday party had gathered around, their prizes forgotten. She glanced at the parents, who smiled back at her and nodded for her to continue.
"Well," she started, "that's the real story. A long time ago, before Edmond came up with his theory and before people knew how to search for bad guys, there was another very smart man that lived in a small village. One day, a man was..." Sara paused briefly, discarding the term "murdered" in the presence of her young audience, then continued, "He was hurt badly and covered with cuts from a sharp shovel."
Sara stopped as a chorus of "oh no" broke out.
"No one knew who did it, and the man couldn't tell them." She glanced around at the wide eyes. "Well, this smart man lived in the village, and he said, 'I will be able to tell you who did it. Everyone come to the village center tomorrow at midday, bring your shovels, and I will tell you who it was.' Well, the bad guy didn't believe him. He thought he was safe because his shovel was covered in dirt, just like all the other shovels. He didn't think it looked any different than before."
Sara paused again to make sure there were no questions, but the children were all watching in suspense, waiting to hear if the smart man really did catch the bad guy. "The next day at noon everyone came to the center of the village with their shovels, including this bad guy. All the shovels looked the same. No one could tell who did it by looking, and they waited for the smart man to come."
"Now, the smart man, he waited just a little while before he came, letting the sun warm up the shovels as the men stood waiting for him. Then he came out, and he looked at the shovels. One of them had a swarm of flies buzzing over it, but not the others." Sara looked at each of them in turn. "Then the smart man pointed at the man with the flies landing all over his shovel, and he said, 'That is the man who did this bad thing.'"
The children gasped. "How did he know?" asked the youngest.
Sara smiled at him. "Well, the people in the village, they asked that same thing. And the man said, 'See the flies? They tell me that there is blood on that shovel, for flies like blood but they do not like dirt.' And that was the very first time that someone used the trace left behind by a person doing a bad thing to find out exactly who did it."
"Wow!"
And then much later, this man named Edmond realized that there's always a trace, so we can always find the person if we know where to look. And Edmond made it into a science so he could teach other people how to do it the same way that he did."
Sara pulled a handful of swabs from her vest pocket, counting them swiftly. There were ten older children in addition to the young man that she had begun speaking to, and she had twelve swabs. She smiled in satisfaction before continuing the story.
"Well, today, we don't have to always rely on flies, though they can still help us out sometimes." She held up one of the swabs, opening it up. "Instead we use these special sticks."
She held the swab close to the youngest boy. "This fuzzy part here is really sticky, especially if you put a little water on it, and it can pick up anything that you find and want to know what it is. So you can use it to pick up a little bit of a spot, then find out if it's dirt or blood or ketchup by putting it in a special machine later."
"Then, after you collect a tiny bit of the spot, you can close it like this." Sara closed the swab into it's container again. "And the plastic part protects it so that nothing else gets on there to confuse you. When you get back to the machine, you can put it in to see what you found."
She looked up at the other children who were hovering close to see this wonderful instrument, and she smiled at them. "It's almost like magic," one of them whispered.
Sara nodded her agreement. "Yes, it's almost like magic."
She turned back to the youngest. "I tell you what," she said, "I'll give you these in exchange for your prize ticket, if you want." She held up the handful.
"I want one!"
"Me too!"
"Yeah, and me!"
The other children gathered closer. Sara pretended to consider it, then looked at the youngest boy again. "Well, I offered them to this young man first, so he'll have to decide. Maybe you can use your tickets afterward to buy one from him."
The young boy's eyes lit up as he realized that he could get something the others didn't have yet, and he nodded vigorously, holding out his ticket. Sara took the ticket and handed him the remaining eleven swabs, then looked up to see the parents smiling as the young boy was mobbed by the older children offering him tickets for these "magic sticks."
Sara stood and walked over to the adults. "Thank you for allowing me a little bit of your time."
"No, thank you!" the frazzled mother said. "But, what was that all about with the ticket? It was such a great idea."
Sara glanced over toward the prize booth where the youngest boy was happily getting the toy he wanted with his newly won tickets. She chuckled softly. "Actually, it's a part of a scavenger hunt, but I only needed one ticket."
The parents nodded knowingly, then they each shook her hand and walked off to gather their charges.
Sara grinned as she collected her kit and headed toward the elevator. Even the smallest thing could seem miraculous with the proper build up, and now she was one item down.
As she headed toward her car, she turned her mind back toward the problem of convincing Grissom to give up his beloved Trigger certificate. Buoyed up by her success with the children, she felt sure that she could crack the entomologist.
Driving down the strip it suddenly hit her, and she murmured, "Even the smallest thing can seem miraculous with the proper build up... Entomology. That's the key."
When Sara arrived back at the lab, she first checked to make sure that Sofia had logged the evidence already, then she headed straight for Grissom's office. He was right, she did know him, and he knew her. He would know that this wouldn't be her favorite activity if she was given the choice, and so he couldn't complain that this was something she was offering to both of them.
As for his second complaint, that Hodges and Greg shouldn't be able to come up with it, she didn't think the other people in the lab really understood his childlike fascination with all insects. To them, it was just part of his job, and his excitement was no different than finding that perfect clue, whatever it might be.
But Sara knew how he responded to a new insect flying in their porch light at night or crawling across their bedroom floor. And he knew her usual disinterest or even disgust at the same occurrence. Yes, this would be the perfect trade.
Grissom was still sitting at his desk, trying to force a stack of photos into a folder, a steaming cup of coffee indicating that he had been back to the break room recently. Sara tapped lightly on the door frame and he looked up, then set the folder to the side and beckoned her in, raising an eyebrow in question.
Sara decided not to bother sitting, sure of her success, but she walked over to his desk so they could speak without out eavesdroppers hearing what was said.
"Okay. This is my final offer, then, I'm going elsewhere." Her grin probably ruined the threat, but she couldn't force it from her face. "Picture this." She allowed her voice to slip into a rhythmic tale-telling cadence, "You and me, a day of freedom spent on an insect expedition. We can go to the park of your choice for a nice afternoon strolling at an entomologist's pace, looking at everything that catches your eye. A nice picnic at sunset will attract lots of bees and ants for your enjoyment. Then we'll take out your spotlight and a white sheet and see what nocturnal fliers are drawn to the glow."
Sara paused to gauge his reaction. Grissom was gazing across the room vacantly, obviously visualizing her idea. She continued in her normal voice, "Same deal as before, no pagers and no cell phones to interrupt us. And..." she drew the word out and paused for effect. "I promise not to complain and to listen as avidly as when I was your student to anything you want to tell me about each and every insect we find. You can test me afterward if you want."
She watched as his gaze moved to focus back on her, and a slow grin spread across his face. "Accepted," he said, and pulled his Trigger ownership certificate from a drawer, handing it to her with a flourish.
Sara beamed as she looked down at it. She had actually managed to get both of her items, and, if she told the truth, she was probably looking forward to the day of insect watching as much as he was. She'd never admit that to him, though.
As Grissom cleared his throat, she looked back up at him. Softly, he reminded her, "There may be questions as to how you managed to get this away from me. What are you going to tell them?"
She had forgotten about that in her excitement. She frowned, and chewed on her lip, trying to think of a plausible excuse. Something her teammates would believe.
"I'll just tell them that I offered to log all of your evidence for the next month. I doubt anyone will actually take the time to check to see whether or not I really do it."
Grissom nodded slowly in agreement. Sara smiled briefly, then turned to leave. Grissom's soft voice stopped her before she reached the door, "Sara?" She turned back, hearing the slightly vulnerable tone and wondering if he was going to warn her to be careful with his certificate, but then he continued. "Anything I have is yours, you know that right? No strings attached."
A warm rush flooded through her. They never talked much about their feelings, but every once in a while he would say something that completely blew her away. Unable to find the words to show how much that meant to her, she simply smiled her warmest smile, nodding slowly. "Yeah," she whispered, "I do."
She savored his small loving smile for a moment, then continued out the door as he turned his attention to the paperwork piled on his desk.
Sara allowed herself to bask for a moment as she headed for Judy's desk with her two items. Luckily no one saw the silly grin on her face, because it might have been hard to pass the amorous quality off as simple joy at finding her items.
She quickly handed the items off to Judy, warning her to be careful with the certificate as it was a rental. Judy smirked at her, likely she knew exactly to whom the certificate belonged. Sara smiled back, then headed off to finish her shift. Looking for a specific trick-rolling hooker in Vegas was like looking for a needle in a hay stack, but she had to at least try.
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