DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. None of this is mine. This font? Not mine.
Please don't sue me, k?
A/N: Spoilers? Yup! Mostly from Season 4's "Butterflied."
CH.11:
They pulled up to the tri-level house, and quickly got out. Sara used her key to open the front door, and stood back as Grissom and Brass walked in. She lay the key down on the entryway stand.
"I'll take the basement. Griss you get the living room. Sara, take the upstairs." Brass hurried through the house to the basement stairs, just where Sara had told him.
Grissom started opening cabinets in the living room. Sara made her way up the stairs towards the bedrooms. She felt her skin crawl at the memory of that shared night. The guest bedroom was unused. She went quickly to Lurie's bedroom. She opened drawers with gloved hands knowing what they found probably wouldn't be admissible in court, but they had to try. As she opened the drawer of his nightstand, Sara's breath caught. There were piles of photos. Photos of her in various places; at work, at her apartment complex, at the ATM. Sara felt sick when she saw the next set of photos. They were obviously stills printed out from a digital video. They showed her and Lurie in bed together. Sara grabbed the photos, and tucked them in her case. A stray tear fell down her cheek. She ignored it, and kept searching.
Downstairs, Grissom searched Lurie's entertainment center. He spotted "The Art of War" displayed prominently on his bookcase. He scowled at the book, and went back to the entryway closet. There was nothing in the floor but some shoes and a small umbrella. He hoped the others were having more luck.
Vincent Lurie dialed Sara's cell phone for the fifth time. No answer. He had even called her work. She wasn't there. He left messages at her home. Where was she? He smirked to himself as he remembered the key. Maybe she had taken him up on his offer after all. He knew he should have waited a few more days to give it to her, but he was so eager to have her to himself. If she wasn't at work why shouldn't she be with him? Lurie sped back towards his home. As he pulled down his street, he spotted the silver crown Victoria with the large spot light mounted over the driver's window. He drove quickly past his house looking straight ahead.
'That traitorous Bitch!" Lurie parked his car a few streets away, grabbed a few things from his bag, and jogged through backyards until he was in his own yard. Through his sliding glass window he could see Grissom going through his shelves. Touching his most personal items. Lurie's blood raged, his jaw tightened, and his fists tore at the air. He made his way around the house to the side door. AS quietly as he could, he entered. He could hear Grissom still shuffling around in the main room. With the stealth of a snake, Lurie made his way closer, his scalpel clutched tightly in his left hand. He was mere feet away now. As he raised his arm for the deadly strike, Grissom turned, catching the blade above his collarbone instead of his neck. Grissom gasped, struggling for his life as he bled.
Sara raced down the stairs, having heard the skirmish. Her eyes went wide in panic as she saw Grissom bleeding, and fighting to reach his weapon as Lurie raised his arm to strike again. Shots rang out. Lurie's body fell to the floor. Grissom huffed, and covered his wound with his hands. He looked up at Sara, a smoking gun now in her hands. She ran to his side.
"Grissom? Gris!" She stripped her jacket off, and held it to the wound.
Brass raced up the stairs upon hearing the gunshot.
"Damnit!" He reached for his radio. "I need an ambulance. . ." He knelt down beside them, checking Lurie for signs of life. "What the hell happened?"
"I shot him." Sara's eyes brimmed with tears, as she held the garment tightly to Grissom's wound.
Grissom was dazed, and in pain. He reached up for Sara. She was safe. Lurie was dead. He held onto her arm. She looked him in the eyes.
"I've got you, Gris. You're gonna be ok, alright?" She spoke as much to reassure herself as to comfort Grissom. Brass stood back, watching for the medics to arrive.
A/N: Spoilers? Yup! Mostly from Season 4's "Butterflied."
CH.11:
They pulled up to the tri-level house, and quickly got out. Sara used her key to open the front door, and stood back as Grissom and Brass walked in. She lay the key down on the entryway stand.
"I'll take the basement. Griss you get the living room. Sara, take the upstairs." Brass hurried through the house to the basement stairs, just where Sara had told him.
Grissom started opening cabinets in the living room. Sara made her way up the stairs towards the bedrooms. She felt her skin crawl at the memory of that shared night. The guest bedroom was unused. She went quickly to Lurie's bedroom. She opened drawers with gloved hands knowing what they found probably wouldn't be admissible in court, but they had to try. As she opened the drawer of his nightstand, Sara's breath caught. There were piles of photos. Photos of her in various places; at work, at her apartment complex, at the ATM. Sara felt sick when she saw the next set of photos. They were obviously stills printed out from a digital video. They showed her and Lurie in bed together. Sara grabbed the photos, and tucked them in her case. A stray tear fell down her cheek. She ignored it, and kept searching.
Downstairs, Grissom searched Lurie's entertainment center. He spotted "The Art of War" displayed prominently on his bookcase. He scowled at the book, and went back to the entryway closet. There was nothing in the floor but some shoes and a small umbrella. He hoped the others were having more luck.
Vincent Lurie dialed Sara's cell phone for the fifth time. No answer. He had even called her work. She wasn't there. He left messages at her home. Where was she? He smirked to himself as he remembered the key. Maybe she had taken him up on his offer after all. He knew he should have waited a few more days to give it to her, but he was so eager to have her to himself. If she wasn't at work why shouldn't she be with him? Lurie sped back towards his home. As he pulled down his street, he spotted the silver crown Victoria with the large spot light mounted over the driver's window. He drove quickly past his house looking straight ahead.
'That traitorous Bitch!" Lurie parked his car a few streets away, grabbed a few things from his bag, and jogged through backyards until he was in his own yard. Through his sliding glass window he could see Grissom going through his shelves. Touching his most personal items. Lurie's blood raged, his jaw tightened, and his fists tore at the air. He made his way around the house to the side door. AS quietly as he could, he entered. He could hear Grissom still shuffling around in the main room. With the stealth of a snake, Lurie made his way closer, his scalpel clutched tightly in his left hand. He was mere feet away now. As he raised his arm for the deadly strike, Grissom turned, catching the blade above his collarbone instead of his neck. Grissom gasped, struggling for his life as he bled.
Sara raced down the stairs, having heard the skirmish. Her eyes went wide in panic as she saw Grissom bleeding, and fighting to reach his weapon as Lurie raised his arm to strike again. Shots rang out. Lurie's body fell to the floor. Grissom huffed, and covered his wound with his hands. He looked up at Sara, a smoking gun now in her hands. She ran to his side.
"Grissom? Gris!" She stripped her jacket off, and held it to the wound.
Brass raced up the stairs upon hearing the gunshot.
"Damnit!" He reached for his radio. "I need an ambulance. . ." He knelt down beside them, checking Lurie for signs of life. "What the hell happened?"
"I shot him." Sara's eyes brimmed with tears, as she held the garment tightly to Grissom's wound.
Grissom was dazed, and in pain. He reached up for Sara. She was safe. Lurie was dead. He held onto her arm. She looked him in the eyes.
"I've got you, Gris. You're gonna be ok, alright?" She spoke as much to reassure herself as to comfort Grissom. Brass stood back, watching for the medics to arrive.