AN: Nope, still don't own them. Darn it.
Sara pulled the Tahoe into a parking spot outside the apartment complex. She and Greg hopped out, heading to the yellow tape and flashing lights of the crime scene.
Brass walked towards them, lifting the yellow tape, allowing Sara and Greg to slip under it. "Well, this is a surprise. They finally let you out of the lab?"
Greg grinned. "Yeah, they finally realized the immense talent they were wasting running samples."
"We'll see about that," Brass lead them up to the apartment, past the uniform at the door. "Body's in the back bedroom, female probably in her mid to late 20's. Looks like she slit her wrists, there was a knife on the floor next to her, and some pill bottles, so she might have tried to OD first."
"Thanks Brass," Sara said, looking around the darkened living room. "Greg, why don't you go back and start checking for prints and such, I'm going to take a quick look out here."
"Sounds good." Greg grabbed his kit, heading down the hallway.
Sara started by the front door, just checking things out, trying to get a feel for this young woman whose life was so bad she had to end it. She saw some framed photos on top of a TV stand and moved to inspect them closer. The young woman in many of them, whom Sara assumed was now in the back bedroom, was very attractive. Long, pale blond hair, cute figure.
Sara noticed something in one of the pictures; the woman was posing with someone who looked eerily familiar…
"Greg!" Sara called, dropping the photograph, hearing the class smash and she ran down the hallway.
Greg stood in the doorway, tears coursing down his face. "Greg, are you okay? Did you know her?" Sara asked, concerned, trying to turn him away from the scene in front of him.
The woman Sara had correctly assumed was her victim was lying on the only piece of furniture in the room, a bed. The entire room was white, the walls, the carpet, the linens. It was like stepping into a shrine. The young woman was lying on the white bed, dressed in a long white nightgown, her pale hair fanned out behind her. The bright red of the blood made such a drastic contrast, running off the bed and onto the white carpet.
Brass, who had heard Sara yell, came down the hallway at this point, gun drawn. He placed in back in the holster seeing that both Sara and Greg were safe. Together he and Sara escorted Greg out of the apartment, where he half sat, and half collapsed, onto the stairs, tears still pouring from his eyes. Sara sat next to him, taking his hand in hers.
"Who was she Greg?" Sara asked gently.
"My…she was my…Angel." Greg choked out before resting his head in Sara's lap, sobbing.