Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.
Set during and after "Last Laugh", a bit of filler, a bit of fluff, what could have happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nick Stokes sat in one of the layout rooms going over pictures from the scene of what had originally been deemed an accidental death by homicide detective Jim Brass. Brass had seen the grieving husband at a nightclub, getting behind the wheel of a Ferrari, a leggy blond beside him, just three weeks after the fateful day, and he became suspicious. He asked Nick for assistance in investigating the case. Nick was curious why Brass didn't go directly to Grissom on such a case. The response Brass gave him both pleased and surprised him. Brass was working on a hunch and he wanted Nick, not Gil Grissom.
Nick had been reviewing the photos from the scene and he couldn't really tell clearly what had transpired simply from photographs. His gut told him that something wasn't quite right, but a gut feeling wouldn't hold up in court. It was someone else's scene, someone else's interpretation of the evidence. He needed a second opinion. He picked up his cell phone and paged Sara. He valued her opinion professionally, and he really liked finding a reason to be around her personally.
A few minutes later, Sara Sidle poked her head into the layout room, a smile on her lips, "What did you need, Nick?"
Nick looked up at her and gave her a lopsided grin, "A second opinion."
A wry grin spread across Sara's face, "I think that shirt looks fine." She walked in and joined him at the table.
"Very funny, Sidle." Nick commented, trying to suppress a grin. He wondered if Sara knew that her comments about his appearance meant more to him than he let on. He gestured toward the file he was reviewing and handed her the photos, "What do you make of these?"
Sara took the photos from Nick and began to examine them. She perused the original police report and then looked up at Nick quizzically, "It says it was ruled accidental."
"Brass is beginning to think differently," Nick explained.
"He was the one who signed off on this." Sara continued.
They continued to discuss the case. Nick pointing out the photos of the bathroom and the missing towel rack from over the tub. Sara got a glint in her eye and leaned over toward him, "Wanna go to the bathroom."
Nick just grinned and the two of them made their way to the home of the grieving husband, hoping to get a look inside the bathroom in question. As Nick spoke to the husband, Sara admired the Ferrari in the driveway. The husband kept asking her to step away from the car as Nick tried to talk his way into the house. Finally, Sara stepped a little too close to the luxury sports car and set off the alarm. The husband quickly let them into the house, mostly to get Sara away from his precious car. A quick examination of the bathroom showed that the husband had repainted and replaced all of the hardware in the bathroom. As Nick talked with the husband, an idea formed in his mind. He thanked the husband for his trouble and he and Sara quickly left the house.
As they left Sara looked at him quizzically, "You pulled the plug on that rather quickly."
Nick reached for Sara's hand, but instead his fingers trailed down the side of her arm as he explained, "I never thought I'd be happy to see cookie cutter homes. Let's go look at the model."
So now here they were in the master bath of the model home for this modest upper middle class suburban neighborhood. They had mats down in the bathtub and Sara had donned a pair of coveralls and a helmet.
As Nick helped Sara into the bathtub he offered, "Are you sure you want to do this? I could do this for you."
Sara looked at him in response, "Are you kidding, I live for this kind of stuff. Besides, I'm the same height and weight of the vic."
Nick responded without thinking, "You're taller and thinner."
Sara grinned at him as she settled herself in the tub, "Keep on buttering that toast." She was pleased that had Nick noticed her figure, but didn't want to read anything into it, as much as she'd like to.
Nick tried to suppress a grin as a bit of color flushed into his cheeks.
Sara began talking through her take on what might have happened as the vic had tried to get out of the tub, reaching for the towel rack. Sara held onto the towel rack and hung her entire weight on it, figuring it had come out of the wall when the vic had grabbed it for support. It wouldn't budge. She continued to twist as she held onto it, finally coming to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be able to pull it out of the wall. She looked over at Nick and he wore a bemused grin on his face. She grinned at him and got out of the tub.
"Here, let me try that." Nick suggested. He stepped into the tub and gripped the towel rack. As he wrenched on it, trying to pull it from the wall, Sara openly admired his physique from behind. After several pulls on the rack and a guttural grunt, Nick finally pulled the rack from the wall.
"I think we can safely assume that our vic didn't try and use the towel rack." Nick concluded as he turned to face Sara who was still staring at him. He smiled at her as she realized she'd been caught staring at him.
Sara quickly turned away to get an evidence bag and to try and regain normal color in her face. When she turned back to Nick, he was still openly smiling at her.
Set during and after "Last Laugh", a bit of filler, a bit of fluff, what could have happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nick Stokes sat in one of the layout rooms going over pictures from the scene of what had originally been deemed an accidental death by homicide detective Jim Brass. Brass had seen the grieving husband at a nightclub, getting behind the wheel of a Ferrari, a leggy blond beside him, just three weeks after the fateful day, and he became suspicious. He asked Nick for assistance in investigating the case. Nick was curious why Brass didn't go directly to Grissom on such a case. The response Brass gave him both pleased and surprised him. Brass was working on a hunch and he wanted Nick, not Gil Grissom.
Nick had been reviewing the photos from the scene and he couldn't really tell clearly what had transpired simply from photographs. His gut told him that something wasn't quite right, but a gut feeling wouldn't hold up in court. It was someone else's scene, someone else's interpretation of the evidence. He needed a second opinion. He picked up his cell phone and paged Sara. He valued her opinion professionally, and he really liked finding a reason to be around her personally.
A few minutes later, Sara Sidle poked her head into the layout room, a smile on her lips, "What did you need, Nick?"
Nick looked up at her and gave her a lopsided grin, "A second opinion."
A wry grin spread across Sara's face, "I think that shirt looks fine." She walked in and joined him at the table.
"Very funny, Sidle." Nick commented, trying to suppress a grin. He wondered if Sara knew that her comments about his appearance meant more to him than he let on. He gestured toward the file he was reviewing and handed her the photos, "What do you make of these?"
Sara took the photos from Nick and began to examine them. She perused the original police report and then looked up at Nick quizzically, "It says it was ruled accidental."
"Brass is beginning to think differently," Nick explained.
"He was the one who signed off on this." Sara continued.
They continued to discuss the case. Nick pointing out the photos of the bathroom and the missing towel rack from over the tub. Sara got a glint in her eye and leaned over toward him, "Wanna go to the bathroom."
Nick just grinned and the two of them made their way to the home of the grieving husband, hoping to get a look inside the bathroom in question. As Nick spoke to the husband, Sara admired the Ferrari in the driveway. The husband kept asking her to step away from the car as Nick tried to talk his way into the house. Finally, Sara stepped a little too close to the luxury sports car and set off the alarm. The husband quickly let them into the house, mostly to get Sara away from his precious car. A quick examination of the bathroom showed that the husband had repainted and replaced all of the hardware in the bathroom. As Nick talked with the husband, an idea formed in his mind. He thanked the husband for his trouble and he and Sara quickly left the house.
As they left Sara looked at him quizzically, "You pulled the plug on that rather quickly."
Nick reached for Sara's hand, but instead his fingers trailed down the side of her arm as he explained, "I never thought I'd be happy to see cookie cutter homes. Let's go look at the model."
So now here they were in the master bath of the model home for this modest upper middle class suburban neighborhood. They had mats down in the bathtub and Sara had donned a pair of coveralls and a helmet.
As Nick helped Sara into the bathtub he offered, "Are you sure you want to do this? I could do this for you."
Sara looked at him in response, "Are you kidding, I live for this kind of stuff. Besides, I'm the same height and weight of the vic."
Nick responded without thinking, "You're taller and thinner."
Sara grinned at him as she settled herself in the tub, "Keep on buttering that toast." She was pleased that had Nick noticed her figure, but didn't want to read anything into it, as much as she'd like to.
Nick tried to suppress a grin as a bit of color flushed into his cheeks.
Sara began talking through her take on what might have happened as the vic had tried to get out of the tub, reaching for the towel rack. Sara held onto the towel rack and hung her entire weight on it, figuring it had come out of the wall when the vic had grabbed it for support. It wouldn't budge. She continued to twist as she held onto it, finally coming to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be able to pull it out of the wall. She looked over at Nick and he wore a bemused grin on his face. She grinned at him and got out of the tub.
"Here, let me try that." Nick suggested. He stepped into the tub and gripped the towel rack. As he wrenched on it, trying to pull it from the wall, Sara openly admired his physique from behind. After several pulls on the rack and a guttural grunt, Nick finally pulled the rack from the wall.
"I think we can safely assume that our vic didn't try and use the towel rack." Nick concluded as he turned to face Sara who was still staring at him. He smiled at her as she realized she'd been caught staring at him.
Sara quickly turned away to get an evidence bag and to try and regain normal color in her face. When she turned back to Nick, he was still openly smiling at her.
