Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.
All was silent, which was unusual for the lab. It must be a slow night. He walked towards the heavy security doors, and searched for his ID. He sighed as he went through the doors and smelled the coffee brewing in the break room. He headed towards the locker room; spotting Warrick as he entered went past the first row of lockers.
"So..." Warrick began.
"How as your weekend?" he questioned.
Nick smiled.
"It was great," he answered. "Traci had a lot of fun. Thanks again for the tickets."
"Anything else?" Warrick quizzed. Nick turned his head, smile pasted on his face,
"Nope."
"Come on, you wouldn't have the smile pasted on your face, if nothing was up," Warrick wondered, but stopped when Catherine walked into the room.
"Hey guys, Grissom wants us in his office ASAP. So stop talking about girls, and hurry," she winked and walked away.
As they all assembled around the break room, Warrick, Catherine Nick, and even Greg, Grissom walked into the room. Worried, emotions seemingly transparent today. Everyone was now worried, something was wrong.
He sat down, taking off his glasses, exhaling, and running his fingers through his hair. The silence was deafening.
"Grissom, what's wrong?" Catherine finally questioned. Both Nick and Warrick looked on as they observed the frustrated, and usually calm Grissom speak, communicating fear, taking deep breaths.
"Sara's gone," he managed to squeak out.
Catherine and Warrick stopped, and stared at their boss intently. Nick stopped breathing, in shock and remembering what had happened at the game.
"What do you mean she's gone?" Warrick questioned, desperation in his tone.
"The highway patrol found her Tahoe abandoned on I-15," Grissom explained, trying to gain back his composure.
"It seems that she was coming back from LA," he continued.
"From a baseball game in Anaheim," Nick continued.
All looked at him, all except for Warrick, who didn't seem surprised at Nick's comment.
"I saw you on TV," Greg chimed in, somewhat sounding cheerful.
The group glared at him, but quickly returned to Nick.
"I saw her in Anaheim, we were watching a baseball game. She was with her friend, Matt, Mike, or someone," Nick explained.
"I was with Traci," he breathed out.
Grissom sighed, "When was the last time you saw her?"
Nick looked up. 'Oh god, Sara, where are you,' he thought.
"Um, after the game in the parking lot. She didn't have a good time at the game, so Traci and I decided to head back, instead of having dinner with Sara."
"OK, that's a start. Why don't' you go to Brass and tell him about all you know," he nodded for Nick to exit the room.
All sat, silent, but Grissom stood up, ready to leave.
"Wait, what are we suppose to do," Catherine questioned.
"Nothing," Grissom slid his chair back.
"Nothing? Who's going to handle this case?" Warrick questioned.
"I'm giving it to another team. We can't get involved in this, Sara's too close to us. We might let our emotions get in the way," Grissom concluded.
With eyes filled with anger and disapproval, Nick stood up.
"I don't know about you, but you know damn well that we should be the ones to investigate this. She's one of us, and I know that you wouldn't let anything happen to Sara," Nick yelled.
Surprised, Grissom turned.
"No," Grissom said firmly.
The room was still, emotions running high. Suddenly, a deliveryman walked in.
"Package for Nick Stokes. Sign here please," the deliveryman indicated.
Nick walked over, still staring coldly at Grissom and signed the sheet. He accepted the parcel, 'what in the world could this be?' He questioned.
As he opened it in front to everyone, he gasped. The team quickly gathered around the box. It was a tank top soaked in blood. Texas Rangers, it read on the front.
All was silent, which was unusual for the lab. It must be a slow night. He walked towards the heavy security doors, and searched for his ID. He sighed as he went through the doors and smelled the coffee brewing in the break room. He headed towards the locker room; spotting Warrick as he entered went past the first row of lockers.
"So..." Warrick began.
"How as your weekend?" he questioned.
Nick smiled.
"It was great," he answered. "Traci had a lot of fun. Thanks again for the tickets."
"Anything else?" Warrick quizzed. Nick turned his head, smile pasted on his face,
"Nope."
"Come on, you wouldn't have the smile pasted on your face, if nothing was up," Warrick wondered, but stopped when Catherine walked into the room.
"Hey guys, Grissom wants us in his office ASAP. So stop talking about girls, and hurry," she winked and walked away.
As they all assembled around the break room, Warrick, Catherine Nick, and even Greg, Grissom walked into the room. Worried, emotions seemingly transparent today. Everyone was now worried, something was wrong.
He sat down, taking off his glasses, exhaling, and running his fingers through his hair. The silence was deafening.
"Grissom, what's wrong?" Catherine finally questioned. Both Nick and Warrick looked on as they observed the frustrated, and usually calm Grissom speak, communicating fear, taking deep breaths.
"Sara's gone," he managed to squeak out.
Catherine and Warrick stopped, and stared at their boss intently. Nick stopped breathing, in shock and remembering what had happened at the game.
"What do you mean she's gone?" Warrick questioned, desperation in his tone.
"The highway patrol found her Tahoe abandoned on I-15," Grissom explained, trying to gain back his composure.
"It seems that she was coming back from LA," he continued.
"From a baseball game in Anaheim," Nick continued.
All looked at him, all except for Warrick, who didn't seem surprised at Nick's comment.
"I saw you on TV," Greg chimed in, somewhat sounding cheerful.
The group glared at him, but quickly returned to Nick.
"I saw her in Anaheim, we were watching a baseball game. She was with her friend, Matt, Mike, or someone," Nick explained.
"I was with Traci," he breathed out.
Grissom sighed, "When was the last time you saw her?"
Nick looked up. 'Oh god, Sara, where are you,' he thought.
"Um, after the game in the parking lot. She didn't have a good time at the game, so Traci and I decided to head back, instead of having dinner with Sara."
"OK, that's a start. Why don't' you go to Brass and tell him about all you know," he nodded for Nick to exit the room.
All sat, silent, but Grissom stood up, ready to leave.
"Wait, what are we suppose to do," Catherine questioned.
"Nothing," Grissom slid his chair back.
"Nothing? Who's going to handle this case?" Warrick questioned.
"I'm giving it to another team. We can't get involved in this, Sara's too close to us. We might let our emotions get in the way," Grissom concluded.
With eyes filled with anger and disapproval, Nick stood up.
"I don't know about you, but you know damn well that we should be the ones to investigate this. She's one of us, and I know that you wouldn't let anything happen to Sara," Nick yelled.
Surprised, Grissom turned.
"No," Grissom said firmly.
The room was still, emotions running high. Suddenly, a deliveryman walked in.
"Package for Nick Stokes. Sign here please," the deliveryman indicated.
Nick walked over, still staring coldly at Grissom and signed the sheet. He accepted the parcel, 'what in the world could this be?' He questioned.
As he opened it in front to everyone, he gasped. The team quickly gathered around the box. It was a tank top soaked in blood. Texas Rangers, it read on the front.