By HarmZuay
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Crime Scene Investigation or
any of its characters. They belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS. This is purely
for entertainment purposes. Bloody McCarthyists. What? They're just as bad…
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence.
Author's Note: Mmmph. I HATE cotton! Even if it is covered in chocolate… [shameless Catch-22 plug] So, I really hate giving out excuses. Even more than I hate hearing them, actually, but this took so long due to some miscommunication between my sister and I. I was in Atlanta with her on Spring Break and I wrote most of this up, but whenever I was in the dorm she wasn't and wouldn't give me the password to her computer. But still my fault. Sorry…
Anyway, on with the story. A stall is simply landing in any grind position on a surface without actually grinding it. Then this chapter felt very… slow to me, so the title seemed apt.
Chapter Six – StallingNick and Sara returned to the lab tired, disheveled, and sore, but ultimately triumphant. Nick had painstakingly managed to pull two partials from the sheared bolt heads, and Sara had obtained prints and DNA samples from Surge as well as Petey, just to be safe.
After a brief visit with Jacqui to drop the prints off, Sara headed to the DNA lab, slightly worried as to who would be covering for Greg. As it turned out, her fears were not unfounded, and she resisted the urge to bash her head against the wall once she laid eyes on Vincent. Apparently, the double-duty tech himself wasn't too thrilled either, made obvious by his contemptuous sneer.
"What's this? More work. You must think quite highly of my skills if you expect me to process all of this in one night."
"You'd be better off with less talking, more working." It was times like these that she truly appreciated Greg's crush on her. All she had to do was say the word and he'd start analyzing as if his life depended on it. "Don't think I'm any happier about this than you are."
"Yeah… Sanders." Sara was surprised to see his derisive features soften slightly. "How's he doin' anyway?" Despite the tension between the two technicians, Vincent still had an enormous amount of respect for the younger man.
"He'll live. Pretty banged up with a handful of stitches, but Catherine's going to pick him up this morning after shift."
Vincent nodded. "Good to hear. Now what've you got for me?"
Sara handed him the swabs. "I need you to compare these to the unknown DNA Greg got from the nail scrapings."
"Oh, that's all?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've only just started the ones Nick gave me for the same purpose." Just like that, any camaraderie the two might have shared was gone, and most all seemed back to normal.
And as per normal, Sara couldn't stand to listen to the other's complaints any longer. "Then you'd better hurry up. On second thought, run mine first, then finish his."
"Nick isn't gonna be-"
"We're working the same case!" she cried in exasperated annoyance. "For once in you life will you just close your mouth and do what I tell you?
Taken aback by her reaction, Vincent meekly complied.
* * *
"Ohh man, are you serious? That's too great!" Warrick was laughing as Sara trudged into the break room and collapsed on the couch with an "oomph."
"What's so funny?"
"Greg's… afraid… of needles!" Nick finally wheezed.
"So? Everybody's afraid of something. Needles don't seem that absurd."
"Maybe not," Warrick compromised, "but you should've heard Cat do her impression of him. 'Nooooo! Stay away!'" he cried out in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, eerily similar to Andre Delambre in The Fly. His antics and arm waving sent all three bursting into another bout of laughter.
"Where is Catherine anyway?" Sara asked, after she'd calmed herself.
"Went to grab some food. Chinese I think." Nick's pager beeped and he grinned, waving for Sara to follow him back into the lab.
* * *
"What've you got for us, Jacqui?"
"Good news. Those partials you gave me had several markers and AFIS managed to give me a pretty straight hit." She handed Nick a paper from the printer.
"Paul Ellison, huh? He better not have a nickname…"
Sara glanced toward him. "You feel like paying a visit or trying for a warrant to bring him in instead?"
This time it was Sara's pager that beeped before Nick could answer. "I think we'll have to let Brass handle this one, Nicky. We have our own visit to… ugh, Vincent."
When they reached DNA, they found the aforementioned tech with a cross between a simpering smirk and a grimace upon his face. "Sara, you shouldn't have put your samples ahead of Nick's. I ended up getting the match off of the last of his. Venaras, Tasco. Hmm, weird name. Anyway, he was all over your guy."
Sara took the proffered sheet of paper and slid it into the manila case folder. "This one, I think we're gonna check in on. C'mon, Nick."
"Wait. You put your samples ahead of mine?"
* * *
"Sara. Nick. Hold up." Grissom strode toward the doors through which the pair was about to exit. "You're not going to be happy about this, but I need you to check out Paul Ellison's place instead. Brass pulled all his weight, but we don't have enough evidence to obtain anything higher than a search warrant and I don't want this guy to run out on us."
To say Sara was not happy would be the understatement of the week. "He's fifteen, Grissom. Where's he going to run? Besides, what about the only suspect that we tied directly to the vic?" she exploded.
"Ellison has two prior arrests. Both times he attempted to evade police authorities. And I'm going to have Catherine and Warrick bring Venaras in. Him, we do have enough to hold, at least temporarily."
Sara held up a hand, anger fading, but suspicion beginning to set it. "We only just got the results. How could you have already run a warrant through to Brass?"
Grissom smiled. "Honestly, Sara. I'm not working this case. So who do you think Vincent paged first?"
"Damn brownnoser…"
* * *
"Oh, Catherine! I love you! You are here to rescue me, right?" Greg made a face at the back of the nurse that had accompanied her.
"Depends. Can I get a signed form limiting certain music?"
"Hell no!"
"Ah, there it is." The nurse stood up with a rubber enema in her hand.
Greg blanched. "Anything you want Cat! It's all Disney songs from now on!"
Both women hid their smiles as best they could. "Alright, Mr. Sanders. You're all set. Just come back in two weeks so that you can get those stitches out."
Once they were safely walking down the corridor Greg stopped Catherine. "Wanna see pictures of my brain?"
"I've seen enough, thanks. Let's go. Warrick's waiting in the car."
"Oh no. My brain is special. Just take a look." He pulled out a sheaf of pictures and handed them to her.
"So?" she asked, idly flipping through them.
"Keep looking." Greg peered over her shoulder eagerly. "Stop! Doesn't that one look like Napoleon?"
"Aaargh! Come on, Greg!"
"Alright, alright. I'm coming. You weren't serious about that music thing, were you?"
"Oh, please. How much do you think I love watching Grissom's face when he hears you screaming about how much Dubya 'lies his fucking face off'?" Catherine grinned.
"Really? Hmm. I hadn't pinned him as a Conservative…"
A/N: Despite all the time I had to work on this chapter, I'm really not very pleased with it. I don't know, I guess I just have trouble matching the attitudes of most of the other characters, especially Sara and Grissom. Which is why I felt most comfortable writing the end of this chapter. I was getting kinda scared when there was no Greg, so I had to stick him in here instead of the beginning of next chapter.
A few things and people to address: KrazyKid197, all right, so I can't say much for government in general. Not that I'm a mad anarchist or anything, but the sheer magnitude of corruption nauseates me. Tony Blair I would take over Bush in an instant! And an archive? Crazy cool! Er, that's a yes… RainbowsnStars, "it'll be worth it" means angst in coming chapters. But for that, you'll just have to keep waiting. Cuadripteryx, Em, dee, and Sillie, thanks a lot for sticking with me and reviewing! And for any of you out there that are dyslexic… ESAELP WEIVER!
