Montana: June 1978
Catherine had just finished riding her horse, Ice Runner, when the very loud car pulled half way up to the house. She could tell that the beat up vehicle was dying due to the horrible sounds that the engine was making. Seeing that the ranch didn't receive many visitors, the fifteen year-old jogged up to the car, smoke now billowing out of the front end.
"Can I help you?" Catherine asked, slightly out of breath from the run down the long driveway
"Do you know how to resuscitate cars?" the man driver answered, a slightly annoyed smile on his face
"No, sorry I don't. My dad is out with the cows, and my brothers are with him so it would take along time to get them."
"Daddy, we just need some coolant fluid." A little voice piped up from the backseat
Catherine, seeing the small child, who looked to be about six or seven, took an interest in her. Even though she must only be in the first grade, she still knew about cars. She was sitting between mountains of books and had a beaded crown with ribbon perched on her curly hair.
"How did you know that?"
"Books" the child answered matter of factly
"What's your name?"
"Sara." the child said, all the while playing with her long brown curls
"Well I'm Catherine."
"Excuse me," the father interrupted, "but can we have some coolant. Sara knows what she's talking about."
"She does. Our little Sara is quite the smart one, aren't you baby?" the woman in the passenger seat asked
"Yeah, sure." Sara replied, her nose buried deep in what appeared to be a chemistry book
"Umm… okay. I'll be right back with the stuff."
Catherine ran back up to the house and continued around back, her long blonde ponytail bouncing against her back as she ran. She was always running these days. She ran nearly as much as she rode her horse around the bounds of the ranch. After searching the shelves on the wall of the rather dank shed, she found the fluid that the people who were stranded in her driveway needed.
After walking back, she could see the father at the front of the car. He was poking about when Catherine walked up to him.
"Here you go."
"Thanks…" he said as he took off the cap to the reservoir
"You're welcome." Catherine said as she took another look at the child. She seemed so out of place, a little scholar at seven.
After the man had finished with his task, he handed the jug back to Catherine. Along with the jug, he gave her a five-dollar bill to pay for what he had used.
As the car pulled away, Catherine couldn't help but calling out:
"Bye Sara!"
The little girl was too involved in her book to notice.
California: July 1978
"Sara! Come on baby, more people have just arrived!" Mrs. Side yelled down
"Yes, mom." Sara replied, putting her princess crown back on
The seven-year-old girl walked down the hall and down the step to the foyer. The drill was always the same when a new guest came to the B&B. Sara was supposed to show the guests to the room and carry a bag or two. Usually interesting people came to the establishment, so when just a mom and her son who looked about four walked in, Sara was rather disappointed. The woman was slender and pulled together. However, her son was a bit of a mess, his hair no exeption.
"Momma, momma!"
"What Greg?"
"There's a princess here!" the little boy said in awe
"Oh, this?" Sara said, pointing to her head, "This is just dress up. I'm not a princess, I'm just Sara."
"Sara, dear. Will you do Dad and I a favor and take Greg out to the swing while his mom and we talk business?"
"Sure." Sara said, smiling and taking the little boy by the hand
"Are you sure you aren't a princess?" he asked while walking out the back door
"I'm sure I am. I'm going to a princess when I get older though. That and a mommy and a scientist."
"All that!"
"Yep."
"Wow."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"I wanna be an astronaut."
"That's very impressive. You want to see the stars then?"
"Yeah."
"Want me to tell you a story about a princess?" Sara said, sitting on the giant porch swing that was on the backside of the giant house.
The little boy nodded and sat next to Sara as she began to spin her version of Sleeping Beauty. By the time that Sara got to where the princess was put under a spell to sleep for a thousand years, the child Greg was too asleep.
Sara leaned back in the swing to get it moving again. The whole time she thought of how great her life was going to be as a princess, mommy, and scientist.
California: April 1994
"And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the basics of using entomology in forensic investigations."
The Berkeley class got up and started to leave the lecture hall. However, a few young sophomore students came up to the speaker, a Gil Grissom.
The nineteen-year-old Greg really didn't want to get more information on the subject. Yet again he really didn't know who was talking or what he was talking about. Greg was interested in one thing at that particular hour. He wanted; no he needed the phone number of that wonderfully pretty Tiffany Powers. She had gone up to get one of the packets that the speaker was handing out, so he, like a puppy dog, followed her.
However, and unfortunately, Greg ran into the table that all the packets were laid out on. The table tipped over and the packets went flying.
"Oh, I didn't mean to do that…" Greg said getting down to start picking the pieces of paper up
"Hey, Greg, call me later." Tiffany said as she handed him a piece of paper that had her phone number on it
"Yeah, sure. Anytime Tiffany!" Greg called to her retreating form
"They say the lady is fair. 'Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous—'tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth it is no addition to her wit—nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her."
"Huh?"
"It's from "Much Ado About Nothing."
"Oh."
"It's okay." Grissom said, receiving a pile of packets that Greg had just finished picking up
"If you'll excuse me…" Greg said, getting up and walking away, rubbing that piece of loose-leaf paper just like a lamp, hoping to get his wish.
Gil Grissom picked up the table, put the papers back in his briefcase and just shook his head. This was one guy who was defiantly the opposite of himself; a scientist and a gentleman.
Texas: May 1987
Gil Grissom was very much impressed with the Alamo. He liked the fact that it was history, and that history was unchangeable. After he had spent a very pleasant afternoon, Gil went to the gift shoppe. Originally he had just as soon get something as average and mundane as a postcard or a flag. However, after he had looked around, a young man, no older than sixteen came up to him.
"Hello, sir. Is there anything that I can help you with? I hate to rush you, but the shoppe is closing in five minutes."
Gil looked at the teen's nametag. It read "Nick S."
"I was looking for something to take back with me to Las Vegas."
Seeing a way to make a relatively big sale, Nick started to turn on his salesperson's charm.
"Well, the marble replica of here is very nice. It's a piece that won't easily break and will last for decades."
"I think that it's a little out of my price range, Nick."
"Well in that case, how about a full color book on the history of The Alamo?" Nick said, pointing to the display of books that he had just worked on a few hours earlier.
"How much is that?"
"Twenty Three Eighty Four."
"I'll take that then."
"Okay sir. If you'd follow me to the register..." Nick said as he walked over to the display and grabbed one of the hardbound books
Grissom was already getting his charge card out as when Nick got back to the counter. After Nick punched in the numbers to ring up the purchase, Grissom handed the boy the plastic card.
"Here you go, sir. The top copy is yours, the second the stores." Nick said, handing the receipt to his customer along with a novelty pen from the shoppe
Grissom signed the slip of paper and handed the bottom copy back to the teen that had just made the sale.
"Hope to see you back, sir."
"Thank you, Nick."
With that the man walked out into Texas heat, letting a hot gust of wind into the gift shoppe.
Nevada: August 1992
Nick Stokes looked around at the bar. This being his twenty-first birthday, it was his first trip to a bar. Yesterday he had gotten in his car and started driving. Somehow he ended up in Vegas and it was his birthday. To Nick, ordering a drink at the bar on ones twenty-first birthday was almost like a rite of passage. Taking a seat on a bar stool, Nick ordered a bloody Mary. Not soon after he sat down, someone else sat down next to him.
"Tough day?"
"Something like that."
"You sure you're old enough to be here?"
"Yeah. Today is my twenty-first."
"I'm Warrick."
"I'm Nick."
"Hey, Buddy. I need some ID." the bartender roughly suggested
Nick took out his billfold and produced a Texan driver's license.
"Ahh... Happy birthday, kid."
"Thanks."
"You look like you have a story." Fred the bartender started
"Don't we all?" with that snide comment, the bartender walked away to tend to another patron.
"Hey, man. Don't sweat it, Freddie can do that."
"Well I shouldn't be so grumpy either."
"Vegas is a while off from Texas..."
"I know, I've been driving for the past day and a half."
"Know how that goes..."
Nick started to tell his story to the man that he had just met. After two more bloody Marys, Nick called it quits. Warrick wouldn't let him go into the car as drunk as he was, so he got Freddie to call a cab.
Warrick was just about the leave when the cab took Nick off to some motel. However, his cell rang, and he got sucked back into the underworld of gambling. He wanted to get out, and it was now or never. Maybe it was the second margarita that seemed to make the task so much easier than it really was.