The autopsy report didn't yield much. The vic was killed by a single
gunshot wound which entered the back and punctured a lung and a portion of
the heart. David was able to retrieve the slug, a 9mm round, which was
crumpled and bent after striking bone. It didn't appear that they would be
able to match striations from the bullet to any shot from a potential
murder weapon due to the damage of the slug. Nick set the autopsy report
aside and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. In the last 30 hours he had only
had 3 hours of sleep, and that was sitting up on the couch in the break
room with Sara's sprained ankle on his lap. He stood up and pushed the
chair back from the layout table and headed toward the break room in search
of coffee. He wrinkled his nose as he realized that the remaining coffee
in the pot had been sitting on the burner long enough to turn into some
sort of sludge. As he contemplated searching for Greg's stash of coffee to
make a new pot he heard a thump and a clattering sound followed by a stream
of curses behind him.
Sara was sprawled out on the floor in the doorway of the break room. Her crutches were under her and a small box of files was spilled out in front. Sara was trying her best to blink back tears of frustration when Nick came over and bent down next to her, "Are you ok, Sara?"
"I'm fine, dammit. One of these stupid things caught on the door frame." She gestured toward the crutches.
Nick tried to restrain a smile. He gently helped her up, his arm firmly around her waist and helped her over to the couch. He wordlessly went back over and picked up the files that had fallen out of the box Sara had attempted to carry as well as her crutches and carried them over to her.
"Thanks." Sara accepted the box of files from Nick's hand.
Nick sat down on the couch next to her, "Sar, why didn't you just ask someone to carry that box of files for you?"
She let out a sigh of frustration, "Because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me because I was dumb enough to sprain my ankle."
A small lopsided grin formed on Nick's face, "No one here would dare think you're dumb, Sara. Stubborn maybe, but not dumb. "
"I'm not stubborn," Sara protested.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "Oh, and so you're the only person who's ever used a pair of crutches that didn't need help with anything. They're kind of pain when you have to carry stuff."
Sara crossed her arms in front of her and tried to suppress an embarrassed grin, "Ok, so maybe I can be a bit independent. I'm used to doing things for myself."
Nick chuckled, "Whether you want to admit it or not, Sar, you're human. Everyone needs help once in a while."
"I don't need help." She replied.
Nick raised his eyebrow again, "So, then you were just inspecting the janitor's work on the floor a minute ago?"
"Ok, fine." Sara mumbled swatting at Nick.
Nick chuckled, "You know, I think you could teach some sailors a few new words."
Sara opened her mouth to protest and then noticed Nick's teasing expression. She began to laugh, "Ok, you win."
"So, you'll let me help you then?" Nick stated as if to clarify.
"Yes. Are you happy?" Sara replied.
Nick nodded, "I'm always happy."
"Did you look over the autopsy report?" She queried changing the subject.
Nick's brow furrowed, "Yeah, but it didn't really tell us anything we didn't already know except that the gun was a 9mm."
"Well AFIS hasn't spit anything out yet either." Sara offered.
Nick gestured toward the files, "What's in there?"
"Backlog." She replied.
Just then, Catherine walked into the break room, "How's the case coming?"
Nick looked up, "At the moment it's at a standstill unless Brass has gotten a hold of the homeowner."
Catherine shook her head, "Why don't you two go home. Shift's over in a couple of hours anyway and if something comes up I can page you."
Nick let out a deep sigh, "I could sure use some sleep."
Catherine left the break room.
Sara remained silent.
Nick glanced over at her. Her expression was clouded. "What's wrong, Sara?" He queried.
"I can't drive." She replied in frustration. "If Catherine pages me, how in the hell am I supposed to get back here?"
Nick let out a chuckle, "You're coming home with me."
Sara's eyebrows shot up, "I can't come home with you."
Nick raised an eyebrow in return, "You live on the third floor of a walk up, Sara. I live in a house, no stairs. You need help. Let me help you."
"Fine." She relented.
Nick chuckled, "Ok, Ms. Independent, let's go."
Nick took Sara's box of files and returned them to evidence. He met her at his Tahoe. Sara had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Nick assumed that it was a change of clothes from her locker. Nick helped Sara into the Tahoe and made his way home. He grabbed her duffel bag before she could protest and helped her out of the SUV. They made their way to the front door of his house and Nick opened the door.
As Nick closed the door behind them he asked, "Are you hungry?"
Sara shook her head, "No, I'm just tired."
"Ok, follow me." Nick headed toward his bedroom and opened the door. "You sleep in here, I'll sleep on the couch."
"Nick, I am not taking your bed." Sara protested.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "Yes, you are."
Sara let out a deep sigh, "Fine." She hobbled over to his bed and sat down, putting her crutches within easy reach.
Nick went over to his closet and pulled out some extra pillows. As he walked back toward the bed he put the pillows down at the foot, "You need to ice your ankle. I'll be right back."
When Nick returned, Sara sat on the edge of the bed rubbing her ankle and not looking too happy. Nick raised an eyebrow, "Here, let's get your ankle elevated." Nick helped Sara prop her ankle up on a pillow and put an ice pack on it. She lay back on the bed and wore a scowl on her face. Nick tried to restrain a chuckle, "What's wrong?"
"I don't like not being able to do things for myself." She replied, not looking at Nick.
Nick let out a chuckle, "It's good for you. It'll build character."
Sara looked over at Nick, "Will you hang out and talk to me for a while. I don't think I'm going to go to sleep anytime soon with that ice pack on my ankle."
Nick smiled, "Sure." He sat on the bed next to her and they chatted about nothing in particular. A short while later, Nick nodded off in mid- sentence. Sara chuckled to herself and drifted off a short time later. Both of them were much more tired than they had thought.
Sara was sprawled out on the floor in the doorway of the break room. Her crutches were under her and a small box of files was spilled out in front. Sara was trying her best to blink back tears of frustration when Nick came over and bent down next to her, "Are you ok, Sara?"
"I'm fine, dammit. One of these stupid things caught on the door frame." She gestured toward the crutches.
Nick tried to restrain a smile. He gently helped her up, his arm firmly around her waist and helped her over to the couch. He wordlessly went back over and picked up the files that had fallen out of the box Sara had attempted to carry as well as her crutches and carried them over to her.
"Thanks." Sara accepted the box of files from Nick's hand.
Nick sat down on the couch next to her, "Sar, why didn't you just ask someone to carry that box of files for you?"
She let out a sigh of frustration, "Because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me because I was dumb enough to sprain my ankle."
A small lopsided grin formed on Nick's face, "No one here would dare think you're dumb, Sara. Stubborn maybe, but not dumb. "
"I'm not stubborn," Sara protested.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "Oh, and so you're the only person who's ever used a pair of crutches that didn't need help with anything. They're kind of pain when you have to carry stuff."
Sara crossed her arms in front of her and tried to suppress an embarrassed grin, "Ok, so maybe I can be a bit independent. I'm used to doing things for myself."
Nick chuckled, "Whether you want to admit it or not, Sar, you're human. Everyone needs help once in a while."
"I don't need help." She replied.
Nick raised his eyebrow again, "So, then you were just inspecting the janitor's work on the floor a minute ago?"
"Ok, fine." Sara mumbled swatting at Nick.
Nick chuckled, "You know, I think you could teach some sailors a few new words."
Sara opened her mouth to protest and then noticed Nick's teasing expression. She began to laugh, "Ok, you win."
"So, you'll let me help you then?" Nick stated as if to clarify.
"Yes. Are you happy?" Sara replied.
Nick nodded, "I'm always happy."
"Did you look over the autopsy report?" She queried changing the subject.
Nick's brow furrowed, "Yeah, but it didn't really tell us anything we didn't already know except that the gun was a 9mm."
"Well AFIS hasn't spit anything out yet either." Sara offered.
Nick gestured toward the files, "What's in there?"
"Backlog." She replied.
Just then, Catherine walked into the break room, "How's the case coming?"
Nick looked up, "At the moment it's at a standstill unless Brass has gotten a hold of the homeowner."
Catherine shook her head, "Why don't you two go home. Shift's over in a couple of hours anyway and if something comes up I can page you."
Nick let out a deep sigh, "I could sure use some sleep."
Catherine left the break room.
Sara remained silent.
Nick glanced over at her. Her expression was clouded. "What's wrong, Sara?" He queried.
"I can't drive." She replied in frustration. "If Catherine pages me, how in the hell am I supposed to get back here?"
Nick let out a chuckle, "You're coming home with me."
Sara's eyebrows shot up, "I can't come home with you."
Nick raised an eyebrow in return, "You live on the third floor of a walk up, Sara. I live in a house, no stairs. You need help. Let me help you."
"Fine." She relented.
Nick chuckled, "Ok, Ms. Independent, let's go."
Nick took Sara's box of files and returned them to evidence. He met her at his Tahoe. Sara had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Nick assumed that it was a change of clothes from her locker. Nick helped Sara into the Tahoe and made his way home. He grabbed her duffel bag before she could protest and helped her out of the SUV. They made their way to the front door of his house and Nick opened the door.
As Nick closed the door behind them he asked, "Are you hungry?"
Sara shook her head, "No, I'm just tired."
"Ok, follow me." Nick headed toward his bedroom and opened the door. "You sleep in here, I'll sleep on the couch."
"Nick, I am not taking your bed." Sara protested.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "Yes, you are."
Sara let out a deep sigh, "Fine." She hobbled over to his bed and sat down, putting her crutches within easy reach.
Nick went over to his closet and pulled out some extra pillows. As he walked back toward the bed he put the pillows down at the foot, "You need to ice your ankle. I'll be right back."
When Nick returned, Sara sat on the edge of the bed rubbing her ankle and not looking too happy. Nick raised an eyebrow, "Here, let's get your ankle elevated." Nick helped Sara prop her ankle up on a pillow and put an ice pack on it. She lay back on the bed and wore a scowl on her face. Nick tried to restrain a chuckle, "What's wrong?"
"I don't like not being able to do things for myself." She replied, not looking at Nick.
Nick let out a chuckle, "It's good for you. It'll build character."
Sara looked over at Nick, "Will you hang out and talk to me for a while. I don't think I'm going to go to sleep anytime soon with that ice pack on my ankle."
Nick smiled, "Sure." He sat on the bed next to her and they chatted about nothing in particular. A short while later, Nick nodded off in mid- sentence. Sara chuckled to herself and drifted off a short time later. Both of them were much more tired than they had thought.