Title: Supernova

Summary: "Sara, since the beginning of time the stars have held the answers to all the questions."

A/N: Any and all feedback is appreciated.  Once again, I'm inventing stuff, so take everything with a grain of salt!  Thanks for reading!  Thanks to MissyJane, A Bloom and SAR for reviewing – I appreciate your feedback and encouragement!

Disclaimer: 'CSI' doesn't belong to me (shouldn't come as a surprise, eh?)

Spoilers: "Playing with Fire," "Inside the Box"

***

                Sara threw her Styrofoam cup into the trashcan, frustrated with the case.  She spent two hours today with Nick in the lab matching the linen from the crime scene to the fabric they picked up this morning.  It matched beyond a reasonable doubt.  They then proceeded to spend another hour reviewing the file and copying the relevant material.  Just in case anything happened to the original, Nick had the copies notarized.  They were not going to loose this case over a technicality.

                Nick watched her from the door, amused by her blatant frustration as Sara tossed a pile of scrap paper into the recycling.

                "Are you sure you want to throw that out?"

                "Yes," Sara yelled.  "Do you have to bug me?"

                "Only when I need to get your attention.  Brass has arranged for us to have an interview with the mayor this evening.  He's going to stop by our offices sometime around 9pm, on his way home from a meeting.  Apparently the mayor wanted us to go to his place, but Brass said we couldn't leave the lab because of the magnitude of the case.  Grissom and Cath will be back with the sister just before seven, which gives us two hours to hold a press conference.  I'm thinking around 8:30 pm, so the mayor can't launch a counter campaign.  We want him sweating when he visits."

                "Sounds good," Sara mused, "but what kind of press are we going to get at 8:30 at night?"

                Nick grinned, "This is Vegas.  The press never sleeps."

***

                Grissom was unusually quiet on the ride to the airport.  Cath knew he was thinking, but she couldn't figure out what about.  They'd already discussed the case, and from a CSI's point of view, it was pretty open and shut.  For the politically minded, the case was more of a chess game.  Each move was strategically chosen to maximize the suffering to your opponent, and advance yourself the farthest.  The only difference between this and a chess game was that the LVPD couldn't afford to lose control.  If the mayor got the upper hand for one minute, it was all over.

Eventually, Catherine broke the silence.

                "You think we're going to get him?"

                "Do we have a choice," Grissom asked rhetorically.

                Cath nodded, turning her attention to the road.  He was getting short with her, probably because she'd incessantly asked if he was all right.  Something was going on, and she meant to find out.

***

                Warrick, Greg, Sara and Nick lounged in the break room.  At one point, they'd turned on the TV but it seemed every channel had been pre-empted to discuss the murder of Brooke Matthews.  Sara had sworn that if she saw another reporter say, 'who could have committed such an atrocity,' she would turn it off.  The TV was turned off not thirty seconds after she uttered the threat.

                Brass kept poking his head in the room.  Cath and Grissom were late.  He'd booked a press conference for 8:30, and it was quarter to eight.  If they were to debrief Robson's sister in time and prepare the façade for the interview, it would take at least half an hour.  They were running out of time.

***

                "There she is," Cath yelled at Grissom, who was wandering around the arrivals terminal mindlessly.  She hurried towards the petite who was waiting by the security desk as instructed.

                "Catherine Willows," she introduced when she reached the woman, "of the LVPD Crime Lab.  This is Gil Grissom, the night shift supervisor."

                "Karena Völund.  I'm Halle's sister.  The man from the NYPD said there was an accident," the slender woman said, her voice breaking in anxiety.

                Cath exchanged a worried look with Grissom.  The NYPD should have informed her of Robson's death.  It wasn't supposed to be her job.

                "I'm sorry, Ms. Völund, but your sister was killed."

                The woman's eyes pooled with tears, some slipping out of the confines of her eyelids.

                "Halle," she whispered.

                Catherine wrapped an arm protectively around the younger woman and started towards the exit.

                Grissom asked politely, "Did you check a bag?"

                She shook her head slightly.  Grissom nodded, and picked up her carry-on bag to follow Catherine out of the airport.  They needed to get back to the lab.  It was getting late.

***

                Sara had given up the pretence of being patient long ago.  Now, she paced the floor.  It was eight, and there was no sign of Cath and Grissom.  Warrick had suggested calling Grissom's cell, but Sara procrastinated.  She didn't really want to talk to him.

                Just when she was about to order Nick to call Grissom, Grissom appeared in the doorway.  Sara's heart fluttered slightly, but she regained her composure.

                "Is she here," Nick asked, voicing the question everyone wanted answered.

                "Yes, she's with Cath.  NYPD neglected to mention why she was flying to Vegas," Grissom replied, glancing around the room.  His eyes caught Sara's for a moment, but they betrayed no emotion.  Typical Grissom, Sara thought at she tried to concentrate on what was being said.

                "You've got twenty-seven minutes until the press conference," Warrick warned.

                "Cath is taking her to make her statement.  She is adamant that we find Robson's murder.  We've called her husband, who is flying out now to help her with funeral arrangements."

                "Good," Nick said.

                Brass stuck his head in the room.

                "Any sign of Grissom or Cath?"

                "I'm right here," Grissom responded, his voice crackling in amusement.

                "We've got twenty-four minutes," Brass continued.

                "Twenty-five," Warrick interjected.

                "Twenty-four minutes." Brass stated.

                "Does it matter," Nick asked exasperatedly.

***

                The flutter of flashes lit up the faces of Brass and Grissom as they stood at the podium in the press room.  Sara sat with Warrick, Greg and Nick in the back of the room.  Cath was with Völund, but the rest of them wanted to see what Grissom was going to say.  He hadn't really be involved in the case, so it would be interesting to see how he played his cards.

                "Good evening," Brass began.  "The LVPD has been investigating the deaths of three women whose bodies were discovered September 3.  We've positively identified all three of the victims, although we are holding the release of one name pending notification of the next-of-kin.  The two victims are Brooke Matthews and Halle Robson.  Gil Grissom, the supervisor of the LVPD Crime Lab, will make a statement on the progress of the case."

                Grissom cleared his throat before he began to speak. 

                "The Las Vegas district coroner has ruled the three deaths as homicide.  Significant evidence was removed from the scene and the lab has positively matched one set of data with a suspect.  Although the mayor, Dr. Ethan Matthews, has indicated that would prefer a minimal investigation instead of continued investigation of his daughter's murder, we believe that we are close to an arrest."

                The noise level in the room rose, but Grissom continued.

                "Additionally, I have a statement from Robson's sister, Karena Völund," he paused at this, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, " 'My sister served her country well as an interpreter in the US Army.  She served Las Vegas well as the senior administrator at the Las Vegas Performing Arts Academy.  I ask that Las Vegas and the United States serve her well by finding her killer.  It is the last gift we can offer her.' Thank you."

                The media room erupted into chaos, questions being tossed from around the room at Grissom.  Grissom strode out the side exit, ignoring the questions.  Brass spoke a few words to explain that they wouldn't be taking questions tonight.

                Sara glanced at the clock.  8:42 pm.  They had just under twenty-minutes until the interview with Dr. Matthews.  She followed Warrick as he left the pressroom.  Nick and Greg walked closely at her heels, as they tried to catch up with Grissom.

***

                They waited in the conference room.  His lawyer appeared at 8:52 pm, and it looked like he wanted to chew a piece out of someone over the press conference.  He wasn't offered the opportunity.  Brass escorted him into the conference room, and then left.

                The CSI's waited outside the conference room in various stages of nervousness.  Greg had been invited to watch the interview, and he waited patiently by the door.  He knew he wouldn't need to do anything, but he figured that he better be ready, 'just in case.'  Warrick leaned against the wall, discussing strategy quietly to Catherine and Grissom who sat in chairs outside the door.  Nick was standing beside the opposite wall, watching for Brass' entrance.  Sara paced the hall from the conference room to the reception area, waiting for his appearance.  Although most of them seemed calm, all were far from it.  This wasn't a game.  It wasn't something they could lose

                Her first instinct when she saw him was to punch him.  He looked so confident and self-righteous.  The rational side of Sara took over, but barely.  Brass walked him down the hall to where the six Crime Lab employees stood, and opened the door to the conference room for him.

                "Mayor," Grissom said curtly.

                "Mr. Grissom, I presume.  It was quite fascinating to listen to your press conference.  I'm disappointed you didn't invite me.  I always like to play games."

                "It wasn't a game."

***