I do not own CSI. Thanks for the reviews and ideas.
Catherine eyed her father from across the table trying to make sure she had understood his question correctly before answering.
"When were you turned, Catherine?" He asked again.
Ok, he had asked her what she'd thought.
"A few days ago..." she began carefully, "What do you know about it?"
"If you're accusing me of having anything to do with it, then you're wrong. I didn't even know until just now."
"Well, who told you then?"
"No one told me, no one had to tell me.....as soon as I was close enough to you I could feel it."
"What exactly is that supposed to mean, Sam? I'm in no mood for guessing games."
He leaned back in his chair and took a long drink of the scotch a waitress had just brought him. Finally, he sighed and leaned further in towards her.
"I'm sorry, Mugs....I forget sometimes that not all of us can sense each other."
"Not all of us? Please tell me your not...."
"Not what?" The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. "Not like you? I can't say that....." He took another sip of his drink before continuing. "Now come on. Let's get you into a suite so you can get ready."
"Ready for what?" Catherine said dripping with attitude.
"The biggest gathering of our kind for the entire year."
"Sam, I don't think you really get this!"
He gently took her by the arm and ushered her out of the main casino and into one of his offices.
"You don't think I GET this? Don't stand there and accuse me of not knowing how you're feeling. I KNOW how it feels to be turned......the confusion, the anger........"
"How did you get over it?"
"I embraced it. I embraced the power.....just as you need to do."
She stood there staring at him for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke again.
"Now, no offense, but no daughter of mine is wearing work clothes that smell like blood to the Gala tomorrow."
"Sam, I..."
"You're going. I plan on introducing you to everyone myself.....and then.......you and I can find and kill the bastard that did this to you."