A/N: I know this episode is really old, but it's still one of my favorites. Thank the lord for DVDs!!
Nick hated losing. When he was in high school playing football, he always took it upon himself to control the mood of the team. During the day he would blend in and go along with the crowd, but when he was on the football field he was the infectious spirit getting in everyone's head. When they won, he was in his element. When they lost he was inconsolable, taking the blame for other people's errors and mistakes.
Losing Kristy Hopkins was no different. Nick kept going over the last evening he spent with her, trying to mentally prevent the inevitable. He remembered watching her fall asleep, her shallow breath causing the tips of her hair to tremble. He remembered quietly sneaking out of her house, taking a last sip of wine before leaving Kristy's room forever. He remembered taking a last glance at her, still breathtakingly beautiful even with smudged makeup and tangled hair. He even remembered briefly toying with the idea that her glossy lips would get stuck to the satin pillow as she slept.
If only he had stayed with her that night, she might not have ended up dead. Nick would have been there to save her, and he would have been a valiant hero rather than a murder suspect. Then again, are you really considered a hero if you save a prostitute's life?
As Nick sat in the break room and pondered all these things, he realized that he was now playing the biggest game of his life. Losing this game didn't mean a dejected team or even a lost state championship. Losing this game meant losing his life, his career, and his reputation. And, unfortunately, this game depended on nothing but the evidence, which according to Grissom, "never lies".
And yet, so far, the evidence was the only thing incriminating him. His fingerprints, his DNA, his semen. All over Kristy's room. "Since when is having sex a crime?" Nick wondered bitterly to himself.
Finally, if only to release Nick from his own thoughts, Catherine entered the room. For a moment, Nick was suspended in time, his whole career resting on Catherine's expression. Unfortunately, if her life of dealing with people had taught her anything, it was how to keep a straight expression. She could have taken Vegas by storm with that poker face.
"I think we should head down to the police station," she said, in a flat monotone. Her face finally registered expression, though in his current state Nick couldn't read what it was. He felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him - his team had lost in double overtime. His whole body was numb and his ears were ringing.
"The DNA didn't pan out?" he asked incredulously, his brain still working on autopilot while the rest of him struggled to catch up.
Catherine, meanwhile, watched him through water-filled eyes, trying to remain calm and professional while just coming off as slightly abrupt. She felt that if she moved too quickly the thick lens she was viewing the room through would spill out. She had to remain calm for Nick's sake.
"Greg tried his hardest Nick, but the epithelials on the rope were just too old for DNA extraction."
Nick hated losing. When he was in high school playing football, he always took it upon himself to control the mood of the team. During the day he would blend in and go along with the crowd, but when he was on the football field he was the infectious spirit getting in everyone's head. When they won, he was in his element. When they lost he was inconsolable, taking the blame for other people's errors and mistakes.
Losing Kristy Hopkins was no different. Nick kept going over the last evening he spent with her, trying to mentally prevent the inevitable. He remembered watching her fall asleep, her shallow breath causing the tips of her hair to tremble. He remembered quietly sneaking out of her house, taking a last sip of wine before leaving Kristy's room forever. He remembered taking a last glance at her, still breathtakingly beautiful even with smudged makeup and tangled hair. He even remembered briefly toying with the idea that her glossy lips would get stuck to the satin pillow as she slept.
If only he had stayed with her that night, she might not have ended up dead. Nick would have been there to save her, and he would have been a valiant hero rather than a murder suspect. Then again, are you really considered a hero if you save a prostitute's life?
As Nick sat in the break room and pondered all these things, he realized that he was now playing the biggest game of his life. Losing this game didn't mean a dejected team or even a lost state championship. Losing this game meant losing his life, his career, and his reputation. And, unfortunately, this game depended on nothing but the evidence, which according to Grissom, "never lies".
And yet, so far, the evidence was the only thing incriminating him. His fingerprints, his DNA, his semen. All over Kristy's room. "Since when is having sex a crime?" Nick wondered bitterly to himself.
Finally, if only to release Nick from his own thoughts, Catherine entered the room. For a moment, Nick was suspended in time, his whole career resting on Catherine's expression. Unfortunately, if her life of dealing with people had taught her anything, it was how to keep a straight expression. She could have taken Vegas by storm with that poker face.
"I think we should head down to the police station," she said, in a flat monotone. Her face finally registered expression, though in his current state Nick couldn't read what it was. He felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him - his team had lost in double overtime. His whole body was numb and his ears were ringing.
"The DNA didn't pan out?" he asked incredulously, his brain still working on autopilot while the rest of him struggled to catch up.
Catherine, meanwhile, watched him through water-filled eyes, trying to remain calm and professional while just coming off as slightly abrupt. She felt that if she moved too quickly the thick lens she was viewing the room through would spill out. She had to remain calm for Nick's sake.
"Greg tried his hardest Nick, but the epithelials on the rope were just too old for DNA extraction."