To quote a very British saying, 'it never rains, but it pours'. Still, onwards and upwards!
I hope you like this chapter and that things are starting to fall into place about the case now :)
x x x x
Sara remained oblivious as Catherine watched her work, lurking quietly by the door.
On the outside, the young brunette looked the epitome of calm and focus. Her piercing hazel eyes scanned the notes Warrick had provided her with, shoulders flexing beneath her thin t-shirt as she hunkered over the table.
To anyone else, she looked fine; but Catherine could see beneath her skin. She could see the nerves and the anxiety and the deep, tormented pain burning just below the surface. Oh how she wanted to go and place her hands on those strong shoulders. To wrap herself in those arms and apologise for everything she had put the poor girl through.
"Uh hum." She cleared her throat delicately. "Hey."
Sara looked up briefly, barely acknowledging the elder CSI with a nod before turning back to her work.
Not giving up, Catherine inched up to her side and lightly grazed the cluttered table top with her hands.
"How ... how are you?"
"Fine." Sara answered abruptly.
Catherine was left uneasy at her cool attitude and stoic features – usually a clear sign that something was wrong – and instinctively reached out to lay a hand on her ex's arm. However, to her further dismay, Sara jumped away at the tender action.
"I'm sorry." Cath squeaked, surprised and hurt by the unusual behaviour.
Sara's eyes flashed up to hers, wide and startled. Then, to Catherine's further bemusement, she began hurriedly gathering her notes together in a jumbled pile.
"I'm sorry – I've got to go." She murmured, stumbling inelegantly out of the room; papers stacked haphazardly in her arms.
"Sara, wait..!" Cath called, whirling after her. But it was too late, as she had already blended into the lab-coat attired crowd in the hallway. "Damn it!" She hissed, turning back around and leaning heavily on the table. Sara had left in such a hurry that she had left a few pieces of paper behind and they fluttered at her frustrated movements.
Picking one up, Cath quickly scanned the brunette's familiar scrawl hurriedly.
"Oh." She gasped, realising now why Sara had fled so suddenly after her failed attempts at physical contact. "Oh no."
X x x
"What are you saying?" Nick scrunched up his nose in disgust. "That the porn belonged to the mother?"
"Female sex offenders are rare, but they do exist." Grissom explained, seemingly unfazed by this new revelation.
"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Nick replied, his jaw set, as he flicked his eyes briefly to Catherine's. Not that she was listening, if her glazed eyes were anything to go by.
"How did you find this?" Warrick asked, swiftly changing the subject back.
"I didn't." Cath twisted her hands in front of her. "Sara did."
Grissom looked up sharply at this news, as if realising for the first time that there was a member of their team missing.
"Where is Sara?"
"I don't know." She groaned, not even attempting to disguise her anxiety. "She ... she disappeared. I can't find her."
Puzzled by Catherine's obvious restlessness, the boss shook his head and promptly switched back onto the case at hand. Whatever was going on between the warring couple – or ex couple, as it may be – he really didn't want to get in the middle of it.
"Well, this may explain the inconclusive evidence of abuse on the daughter. But does it lead to motive?"
"I don't think so." Warrick answered instantly. "I still think there's something we're missing."
"Drugs."
They all turned to the door in one smooth motion, where Sara was stood clutching a folder to her chest, her expression sombre and indecipherable.
Catherine immediately noticed the telltale signs that she had been crying, but didn't let on to the group.
"Drugs?" Grissom repeated, holding out his hands for the folder.
"The father was dealing." She elaborated, almost reluctantly giving up the evidence.
"Well, that is one of the classics." Gil noted, impressed with the find. Drugs, sex and money were the three most common motives for any crime. And in this case, it could well be all three.
"It gets worse." Sara continued grimly, turning to Nick. "Those cars that you found visiting the house every week – Brass ran the plates. They all belong to teenagers or parents of teenagers. And they all went to the same school as the Wilson boy."
"I see." Catherine pursed her lips tightly, putting the pieces together. "So, the son lures them in and the father closes the deal."
"Meanwhile, the mother is busy sexually assaulting her own daughter and downloading kiddie porn." Warrick spat angrily.
"I wonder if each parent knew what the other was doing." Grissom mused absently, having tuned out his team and lost himself once more in his own thoughts.
"I don't know." Sara scowled tersely. "I don't think it matters."
Then, without another word, she whirled back out of the room; followed hurriedly by a startled Catherine. The men, left to watch them disappear without a whisper of warning, shared a look of unanimous concern.
"What was that about?" Nick asked, gesturing to the empty space where they had previously been stood.
"I don't know." Warrick sighed, turning his attention back to the new information. "I think this whole case has everyone whacked out."
X x x
"Sara?" She called, jogging across the parking lot as fast as she could in her narrow two inch heels. "Sara, wait!"
However, the brunette wasn't going anywhere. By the time Catherine reached her she had hopped up onto the hood of her car and was staring at the stars, her breath misting in the cool night air.
"Have you told them?" She asked.
Cath paused, unsure of what she was referring to, before it slowly dawned on her.
"No." She breathed, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "No, I haven't told them."
Sara nodded slowly. As the light from the street caught her eyes, Catherine saw the unshed tears glistening in them and her heart tightened.
"Sara, honey." She sighed, leaning across the hood and taking the woman's hand. "I'm so sorry. I know that this must be really hard for you. Things have just been so complicated lately, you've been pretty neglected – I'm sorry for that. And I want to make it up to you."
Sara caught her eye and, in the darkness, Cat thought she saw a small smile on the dark-haired woman's lips.
"Is that what you were coming to tell me?" She asked. "In the lab?"
Cath laughed softly, tucking her long hair behind her ear.
"No, actually. I was coming to apologise for what I've put you through – and to ask for another chance?"
X x x
Catherine kicked the office door shut, sliding around the couch to hand Sara a mug of steaming coffee.
"Grissom's talking to Connolly now." She explained, joining her companion on the couch.
"Good." Sara nodded, taking a tentative sip of the bitter liquid. They lapsed into silence, neither daring to breach the subject that they had come in here to discuss.
Finally, Catherine coughed, breaking the thick atmosphere.
"You and I never really talked about your childhood that much."
"No." Sara acknowledged, clearing her throat uncertainly. "It never felt right to bring it up, with everything that's happening with Lindsey..."
"No." Cath cut her off sharply, though the anger in her voice was directed at herself more than her partner. "That's not fair. You were a part of my life and I never made enough of an effort to support you when you needed it. It's been far too one sided." She paused, watching Sara trace the rim of her mug idly with the tip of her index finger. The brunette offered only a meek shrug, not sure what she was expected to say. "I'd like a chance to change that, if you'll let me?" Catherine added hopefully.
Sara's dark eyes lifted, the only movement she had made.
"Cat, I ..." she swallowed, sinking her gaze back into the dark liquid swirling in her cup. The white foamy froth danced with her subtle movements, leaving a unique and entirely unrepeatable pattern – like a kaleidoscope of all one colour.
"What?" Cath pressed when she didn't continue.
After what felt like an age, Sara looked up again.
"You want to help me?" She asked calmly; though just beneath the surface her emotions were teetering on the edge, barely held together by her sheer wilfulness not to cry. "Help me solve this case."