Nick and Warrick ran the prints found at Sara's through AFIS and were
waiting for a match. Yawning, Nick reclined in the rolling chair,
watching the screen scroll through thousands of entries.
Warrick picked up a pen and spun it between his fingers, his brow
creased in tension. "I wonder how Sara's doing," he muttered, almost
to himself. "Do we know more?"
"Nope. I'm taking that as a good sign. I'm sure we'd hear if things
got worse."
Both men sat in silence for a moment before Nick spoke again. "So, I
ran the
prints we found on the nightstand and in the bathroom. I'll see if I
have any luck with the partials we found on the wall and dresser.
Since we already eliminated Sara's prints, the other set should be the
perp." He realized he was stating the obvious, but he was reassuring
himself at the same time. He rarely dealt with crimes that involved
people he
knew. The fact that he considered Sara a friend made it more
difficult.
The computer beeped, breaking his thoughts. Warrick was first to the
monitor. He stared at the screen, his face transforming from
expectation to confusion in the space of seconds. "What the hell?"
Nick arrived at his side. "In-house match?" he translated, looking at
the code. "I don't know about you, but I know my prints are nowhere
near her apartment. I put my gloves on before I got to the door."
Nodding, Warrick said, "And none of us would do it anyway." He hit a
few keystrokes. "I'll be damned."
GRISSOM, GIL the display read.
They stared at each other and back at the screen, not quite knowing
what to make out of that development.
"What would Gris' prints be doing on her shower curtain?" Nick asked,
seeming legitimately perplexed. He looked at Warrick to find his
friend smirking at him. "You don't think..."
"Yeah, I do think. How else would you explain Grissom's prints on
Sara's bedside table? Were they on a case and she asked him to stop by
to set her alarm clock?"
"Good point." Nick laughed softly, still absorbing the revelation.
"Wow. All this time I thought she was just trying to be Grissom's
favorite. I didn't know she was trying to be Grissom's *favorite*."
Warrick shook his head. "Shocks the hell out of me, too. I'm just
happy that rape is looking a bit less likely. That was my main fear.
We can worry about this whole Grissom and Sara thing later. Right now
we need to find Greg and see if we can get some confirmation about the
samples we sent him."
They looked at each other, grinning. "Greg!" they said together.
"Hey," Catherine said quietly as she walked into the hospital room.
"Hey," Sara managed. She opened her eyes, obviously looking past
Catherine for someone she was hoping to see more.
"I sent him home. He needed the rest." Sitting beside the bed, she
asked, "Do you know what happened?"
"It's pretty fuzzy."
"Take it from the beginning."
Sara closed her eyes again. "I woke up, and..."
"I know," Catherine said, unable to keep the amusement out of her
voice. "*After* that part."
"After?" Sara looked at her. "What do you mean? You... oh. You
*know*."
"Yeah," she nodded, tactfully looking away, then smiling. "I think
it's great."
"Okay. I guess I went back to sleep. I heard a noise, someone in my
apartment, but I didn't think much of it, I figured Gil came back for
something, maybe I said something, half-asleep. The next I knew, this
guy was on me."
"What did he look like?"
"I don't know. Mask, gloves. Big guy, maybe 6'2", 220 and strong. He
slammed my head against the headboard but I managed to get up and get
a few good shots in. He pulled a knife, one of those big Marine K-BARs
and he got me on the hands but I..." she strained to recall. "I turned
it around and gave him a slice and that made him angrier and he tossed
me agaiinst the dresser and..." She opened her eyes. "It's all a blur.
The last thing I remember, I think he smashed the hilt against my head
and then I woke up here."
"Seems like that was the last thing he did. Something scared him off.
Blood was still fresh when I found you. Nicky and Warrick collected it
up and dusted and bagged half your apartment. They're working on it."
Sara nodded. "You did good. You'll be okay." After a second, Catherine
added, "I really do think it's great. You and Grissom, I mean. You're
perfect for each other. Took you both long enough to recognize it."
Sara smiled, the big grin she normally reserved for one person alone.
"We recognized it, we just..."
"Are both anti-social workaholics who aren't good with emotional
commitment."
Sara laughed, then winced at the pull on her ribs. "Ow."
"Sorry. Get some rest so you can get out of here soon. We miss you."
Some time had elapsed when Warrick and Nick returned to the lab to
garner
the results of the DNA testing. Upon arriving they found Greg tapping
furiously on his computer, his back to them.
"Greggo! Wassup?" Nick exclaimed, in much better spirits now.
A sullen-looking Greg wheeled around in his chair, stopping to pull a
sheet from the printer as he faced them. When he made no attempt to
speak, Warrick broke the silence. "You get those results back?"
Greg nodded, silently handing the printout to them while staring at
the floor. With a plaintive sigh he sat back, watching the two
investigators read the results. Nick broke into a grin, both because
his fear had been definitively alleviated and because he understood
Greg's depressive state. He smirked at Warrick. "So, this confirms it.
Looks like Gris and Sara have been investigating more than just
evidence." Warrick snorted, wearing a 'Who would have thought?'
expression.
Greg finally broke his silence with an incredulous look. "You guys
knew about this earlier?"
Warrick couldn't resist. "Yeah, man. We ran the prints from Sara's.
Shower curtain, sink, bedside table...We feared the worst. Turns out
it was an in-house match."
Greg's face fell into an expression that could only be described as
miserable defeat. With a forced upturn of his mouth he responded
sincerely, "That's great. I mean, that it wasn't..."
Warrick gave him an amused look thinly masked by pity. "Greg, it's not
like you ever had a chance..."
Greg waved him off. "I know, I know. But a guy can't help dreaming."
Nick gave him a sympathetic smile. "Thanks for the results. I know it
was rough. Hey, can you keep working on ID'ing the perp's blood? Just
page us."
"Yeah, yeah."
Warrick and Nick waited until they were out of earshot before breaking
into laughter. Nick recovered with, "Poor guy. He really took it
hard."
"Think he'll ever be able to look either one of them in the face
again?"
"Nope." Nick sobered. "Think we will?"
"Damn," Warrick said with feeling. "Yeah. Barely. No wonder he said he
didn't trust anyone but you and me at the scene."
Nick and Warrick were already in Grissom's office when Catherine
entered, closing the door behind her. She looked from one to the other
quizzically. "Why the secrecy, guys?"
Warrick motioned with his head towards the corner of Grissom's desk.
Nicky reached over from his vantage point in the chair and handed a
manila envelope backwards to Catherine. She scanned the contents
quickly, her expression never changing.
"That doesn't surprise you?" Nick actually looked a little
disappointed.
"Not anymore. Sara just told me."
"Sara? She's awake?" Warrick asked, obviously relieved.
"Yeah, I just came from the hospital. She's a bit out of it, but she
appears to be fine. She --and Grissom in his own way -- confirmed that
the DNA samples that you found were...to be expected," Catherine said
delicately, her eyes drifting to the side.
"Man," Warrick sighed, leaning back against the wall. "How long has
this been going on?"
"A little over two months, apparently." Catherine rounded.
"Wow." Nicky looked reflective. "It all makes sense now."
"How so?" Warrick queried.
"Well, Gris and Sara have always been pretty close. I mean, as close
as Grissom allows, at least. Then a couple months ago they went
through a spell when he kept assigning her to a separate case when
even I could tell she'd be better suited to the one he was working
on."
Realization dawned on Catherine's face. "I do remember that. You even
said something, I think. I just figured there were still some
unresolved issues from when she wanted to
leave. They got better."
"A lot better." Nick supplied. "To the point where I thought there was
a bit more there. Little did I know."
Warrick snapped his fingers. "Yeah, yeah. I remember! One time they
were in Trace -- Sara was looking at a slide and Grissom had his arm
resting on her shoulder. It wasn't like Gris, but I wouldn't have
given it another thought if they hadn't jumped apart when they heard
me come in."
Catherine shook her head in amusement. "Sara has been spending less
time here. She's always on time, but she's no longer the first to get
here and the last to leave."
"Grissom has been a lot more relaxed," Warrick reflected.
"Yeah, now we know why." Nick gave a grin that approached a leer.
The three looked at each other, amused. Then Catherine turned serious.
"I'm happy for them. That said, it's imperative that word of this
doesn't get to Ecklie or anyone that could use it against them. They
could lose their jobs." They were also intensely private people who
were probably already mortified that this had come to light in the
first place. She wondered if they had ever planned on telling anyone
at all.
Nick broke her train of thought with, "I'll make sure Greg sits on the
results. If Ecklie tries to pry into this case, hopefully we can get
by with telling him that Sara told us the sex was consensual and who
were we to ask?"
"And that we cross-checked the prints and they belonged to Sara's
boyfriend. No one will have a clue as to who he is." Warrick added
with a snort, "This is some messed-up shit."
Catherine nodded her agreement. "We know what we have to do. You guys
talk to Greg. I'm going to talk to Grissom and let him know we're on
the same page with this. He's already pretty on edge about this whole
thing already. We don't want him and Sara to have to worry about their
jobs, too."
Warrick and Nick left in search of Greg. Catherine stood a moment,
surveying her friend's office. She was genuinely pleased that Grissom
and Sara had taken this step with each other. She just hoped the
situation didn't tear down something that was still undoubtedly
fragile.
The modern American health care system is not designed to coddle
patients, so as soon as Sara was reliably conscious and able to move,
she was discharged.
In the car, she didn't speak till she noticed, 'This isn't the way to
my place."
Grissom's expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses.
"It's the way to yours." The silence continued. "Look, I'm not some
wimp who's going to go all PTSD in my own apartment..."
Mildly, he said, "You can't go back to your apartment. Your door's
still broken, and Warrick and Nick used about a month's supply of
print dust on it. It's a mess."
"Oh. Okay."
Sara sighed as the door closed behind them. "I'm gonna take a long
shower and then catch a nap." He nodded.
She stood under the water for as long as she could, feeling the heat
work its way into her cramped muscles, easing some of the pain. The
painkillers were keeping the rest of it at bay, though she hated how
they slowed her thinking.
Finally, she padded back to the kitchen and said, "I thought I smelled
-- pizza!" He flipped back the lid of the box to reveal a large super
veggie pizza. "And after hospital food..." With a slice halfway to her
mouth, she smiled. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"
"Not in the last hour or so."
"Remiss of me," she said, as he joined her in eating.
Several slices later, Sara finally had enough. "That was great.
Thanks." She stood, a little unsteady, and he put an arm around her as
they walked to the bedroom.
She flopped onto the bed, and then gave a contented sigh as she
cuddled up to his chest. Sara was tough and self-reliant, the model
21st century professional, and she almost hated to admit it even to
herself -- but she always felt so damn safe and protected in his arms.
Especially right now. Drowsily, she said, "Gil..."
"Shh. Go to sleep for once. I love you." He kissed her forehead and
she made no reply.
Images: moving, still, jerky, violent, surreal, frightening. Sara
cried out, struggling for a moment before she woke up and realized it
had only been a nightmare, feeling her pulse and respiration slow as
the phantoms faded away in the warm, solid circle of Gil's arms.
"Wow," she said shakily. "That was something even for me."
"Not too surprising. The medication's probably affecting your
neurotransmitters."
She laughed, further reassured by the prompt scientific explanation.
"That, and you know how I get about cases."
"I know." He studied her for a moment.
"Do not start with the Shakespeare, to sleep, perchance to dream
stuff."
Gil propped up on one elbow to look down at her. Smoothing her rumpled
hair, he said, "She walks in beauty, like the night/Of cloudless
climes and starry skies;/And all that's best of dark and bright/Meet
in her aspect and her eyes... Lord Byron."
Speechless, she tangled a hand in his soft curls and pulled him close
for another kiss before falling asleep again.
waiting for a match. Yawning, Nick reclined in the rolling chair,
watching the screen scroll through thousands of entries.
Warrick picked up a pen and spun it between his fingers, his brow
creased in tension. "I wonder how Sara's doing," he muttered, almost
to himself. "Do we know more?"
"Nope. I'm taking that as a good sign. I'm sure we'd hear if things
got worse."
Both men sat in silence for a moment before Nick spoke again. "So, I
ran the
prints we found on the nightstand and in the bathroom. I'll see if I
have any luck with the partials we found on the wall and dresser.
Since we already eliminated Sara's prints, the other set should be the
perp." He realized he was stating the obvious, but he was reassuring
himself at the same time. He rarely dealt with crimes that involved
people he
knew. The fact that he considered Sara a friend made it more
difficult.
The computer beeped, breaking his thoughts. Warrick was first to the
monitor. He stared at the screen, his face transforming from
expectation to confusion in the space of seconds. "What the hell?"
Nick arrived at his side. "In-house match?" he translated, looking at
the code. "I don't know about you, but I know my prints are nowhere
near her apartment. I put my gloves on before I got to the door."
Nodding, Warrick said, "And none of us would do it anyway." He hit a
few keystrokes. "I'll be damned."
GRISSOM, GIL the display read.
They stared at each other and back at the screen, not quite knowing
what to make out of that development.
"What would Gris' prints be doing on her shower curtain?" Nick asked,
seeming legitimately perplexed. He looked at Warrick to find his
friend smirking at him. "You don't think..."
"Yeah, I do think. How else would you explain Grissom's prints on
Sara's bedside table? Were they on a case and she asked him to stop by
to set her alarm clock?"
"Good point." Nick laughed softly, still absorbing the revelation.
"Wow. All this time I thought she was just trying to be Grissom's
favorite. I didn't know she was trying to be Grissom's *favorite*."
Warrick shook his head. "Shocks the hell out of me, too. I'm just
happy that rape is looking a bit less likely. That was my main fear.
We can worry about this whole Grissom and Sara thing later. Right now
we need to find Greg and see if we can get some confirmation about the
samples we sent him."
They looked at each other, grinning. "Greg!" they said together.
"Hey," Catherine said quietly as she walked into the hospital room.
"Hey," Sara managed. She opened her eyes, obviously looking past
Catherine for someone she was hoping to see more.
"I sent him home. He needed the rest." Sitting beside the bed, she
asked, "Do you know what happened?"
"It's pretty fuzzy."
"Take it from the beginning."
Sara closed her eyes again. "I woke up, and..."
"I know," Catherine said, unable to keep the amusement out of her
voice. "*After* that part."
"After?" Sara looked at her. "What do you mean? You... oh. You
*know*."
"Yeah," she nodded, tactfully looking away, then smiling. "I think
it's great."
"Okay. I guess I went back to sleep. I heard a noise, someone in my
apartment, but I didn't think much of it, I figured Gil came back for
something, maybe I said something, half-asleep. The next I knew, this
guy was on me."
"What did he look like?"
"I don't know. Mask, gloves. Big guy, maybe 6'2", 220 and strong. He
slammed my head against the headboard but I managed to get up and get
a few good shots in. He pulled a knife, one of those big Marine K-BARs
and he got me on the hands but I..." she strained to recall. "I turned
it around and gave him a slice and that made him angrier and he tossed
me agaiinst the dresser and..." She opened her eyes. "It's all a blur.
The last thing I remember, I think he smashed the hilt against my head
and then I woke up here."
"Seems like that was the last thing he did. Something scared him off.
Blood was still fresh when I found you. Nicky and Warrick collected it
up and dusted and bagged half your apartment. They're working on it."
Sara nodded. "You did good. You'll be okay." After a second, Catherine
added, "I really do think it's great. You and Grissom, I mean. You're
perfect for each other. Took you both long enough to recognize it."
Sara smiled, the big grin she normally reserved for one person alone.
"We recognized it, we just..."
"Are both anti-social workaholics who aren't good with emotional
commitment."
Sara laughed, then winced at the pull on her ribs. "Ow."
"Sorry. Get some rest so you can get out of here soon. We miss you."
Some time had elapsed when Warrick and Nick returned to the lab to
garner
the results of the DNA testing. Upon arriving they found Greg tapping
furiously on his computer, his back to them.
"Greggo! Wassup?" Nick exclaimed, in much better spirits now.
A sullen-looking Greg wheeled around in his chair, stopping to pull a
sheet from the printer as he faced them. When he made no attempt to
speak, Warrick broke the silence. "You get those results back?"
Greg nodded, silently handing the printout to them while staring at
the floor. With a plaintive sigh he sat back, watching the two
investigators read the results. Nick broke into a grin, both because
his fear had been definitively alleviated and because he understood
Greg's depressive state. He smirked at Warrick. "So, this confirms it.
Looks like Gris and Sara have been investigating more than just
evidence." Warrick snorted, wearing a 'Who would have thought?'
expression.
Greg finally broke his silence with an incredulous look. "You guys
knew about this earlier?"
Warrick couldn't resist. "Yeah, man. We ran the prints from Sara's.
Shower curtain, sink, bedside table...We feared the worst. Turns out
it was an in-house match."
Greg's face fell into an expression that could only be described as
miserable defeat. With a forced upturn of his mouth he responded
sincerely, "That's great. I mean, that it wasn't..."
Warrick gave him an amused look thinly masked by pity. "Greg, it's not
like you ever had a chance..."
Greg waved him off. "I know, I know. But a guy can't help dreaming."
Nick gave him a sympathetic smile. "Thanks for the results. I know it
was rough. Hey, can you keep working on ID'ing the perp's blood? Just
page us."
"Yeah, yeah."
Warrick and Nick waited until they were out of earshot before breaking
into laughter. Nick recovered with, "Poor guy. He really took it
hard."
"Think he'll ever be able to look either one of them in the face
again?"
"Nope." Nick sobered. "Think we will?"
"Damn," Warrick said with feeling. "Yeah. Barely. No wonder he said he
didn't trust anyone but you and me at the scene."
Nick and Warrick were already in Grissom's office when Catherine
entered, closing the door behind her. She looked from one to the other
quizzically. "Why the secrecy, guys?"
Warrick motioned with his head towards the corner of Grissom's desk.
Nicky reached over from his vantage point in the chair and handed a
manila envelope backwards to Catherine. She scanned the contents
quickly, her expression never changing.
"That doesn't surprise you?" Nick actually looked a little
disappointed.
"Not anymore. Sara just told me."
"Sara? She's awake?" Warrick asked, obviously relieved.
"Yeah, I just came from the hospital. She's a bit out of it, but she
appears to be fine. She --and Grissom in his own way -- confirmed that
the DNA samples that you found were...to be expected," Catherine said
delicately, her eyes drifting to the side.
"Man," Warrick sighed, leaning back against the wall. "How long has
this been going on?"
"A little over two months, apparently." Catherine rounded.
"Wow." Nicky looked reflective. "It all makes sense now."
"How so?" Warrick queried.
"Well, Gris and Sara have always been pretty close. I mean, as close
as Grissom allows, at least. Then a couple months ago they went
through a spell when he kept assigning her to a separate case when
even I could tell she'd be better suited to the one he was working
on."
Realization dawned on Catherine's face. "I do remember that. You even
said something, I think. I just figured there were still some
unresolved issues from when she wanted to
leave. They got better."
"A lot better." Nick supplied. "To the point where I thought there was
a bit more there. Little did I know."
Warrick snapped his fingers. "Yeah, yeah. I remember! One time they
were in Trace -- Sara was looking at a slide and Grissom had his arm
resting on her shoulder. It wasn't like Gris, but I wouldn't have
given it another thought if they hadn't jumped apart when they heard
me come in."
Catherine shook her head in amusement. "Sara has been spending less
time here. She's always on time, but she's no longer the first to get
here and the last to leave."
"Grissom has been a lot more relaxed," Warrick reflected.
"Yeah, now we know why." Nick gave a grin that approached a leer.
The three looked at each other, amused. Then Catherine turned serious.
"I'm happy for them. That said, it's imperative that word of this
doesn't get to Ecklie or anyone that could use it against them. They
could lose their jobs." They were also intensely private people who
were probably already mortified that this had come to light in the
first place. She wondered if they had ever planned on telling anyone
at all.
Nick broke her train of thought with, "I'll make sure Greg sits on the
results. If Ecklie tries to pry into this case, hopefully we can get
by with telling him that Sara told us the sex was consensual and who
were we to ask?"
"And that we cross-checked the prints and they belonged to Sara's
boyfriend. No one will have a clue as to who he is." Warrick added
with a snort, "This is some messed-up shit."
Catherine nodded her agreement. "We know what we have to do. You guys
talk to Greg. I'm going to talk to Grissom and let him know we're on
the same page with this. He's already pretty on edge about this whole
thing already. We don't want him and Sara to have to worry about their
jobs, too."
Warrick and Nick left in search of Greg. Catherine stood a moment,
surveying her friend's office. She was genuinely pleased that Grissom
and Sara had taken this step with each other. She just hoped the
situation didn't tear down something that was still undoubtedly
fragile.
The modern American health care system is not designed to coddle
patients, so as soon as Sara was reliably conscious and able to move,
she was discharged.
In the car, she didn't speak till she noticed, 'This isn't the way to
my place."
Grissom's expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses.
"It's the way to yours." The silence continued. "Look, I'm not some
wimp who's going to go all PTSD in my own apartment..."
Mildly, he said, "You can't go back to your apartment. Your door's
still broken, and Warrick and Nick used about a month's supply of
print dust on it. It's a mess."
"Oh. Okay."
Sara sighed as the door closed behind them. "I'm gonna take a long
shower and then catch a nap." He nodded.
She stood under the water for as long as she could, feeling the heat
work its way into her cramped muscles, easing some of the pain. The
painkillers were keeping the rest of it at bay, though she hated how
they slowed her thinking.
Finally, she padded back to the kitchen and said, "I thought I smelled
-- pizza!" He flipped back the lid of the box to reveal a large super
veggie pizza. "And after hospital food..." With a slice halfway to her
mouth, she smiled. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"
"Not in the last hour or so."
"Remiss of me," she said, as he joined her in eating.
Several slices later, Sara finally had enough. "That was great.
Thanks." She stood, a little unsteady, and he put an arm around her as
they walked to the bedroom.
She flopped onto the bed, and then gave a contented sigh as she
cuddled up to his chest. Sara was tough and self-reliant, the model
21st century professional, and she almost hated to admit it even to
herself -- but she always felt so damn safe and protected in his arms.
Especially right now. Drowsily, she said, "Gil..."
"Shh. Go to sleep for once. I love you." He kissed her forehead and
she made no reply.
Images: moving, still, jerky, violent, surreal, frightening. Sara
cried out, struggling for a moment before she woke up and realized it
had only been a nightmare, feeling her pulse and respiration slow as
the phantoms faded away in the warm, solid circle of Gil's arms.
"Wow," she said shakily. "That was something even for me."
"Not too surprising. The medication's probably affecting your
neurotransmitters."
She laughed, further reassured by the prompt scientific explanation.
"That, and you know how I get about cases."
"I know." He studied her for a moment.
"Do not start with the Shakespeare, to sleep, perchance to dream
stuff."
Gil propped up on one elbow to look down at her. Smoothing her rumpled
hair, he said, "She walks in beauty, like the night/Of cloudless
climes and starry skies;/And all that's best of dark and bright/Meet
in her aspect and her eyes... Lord Byron."
Speechless, she tangled a hand in his soft curls and pulled him close
for another kiss before falling asleep again.