Prologue (Saturday night)

Sara's new alarm clock worked wonderfully.

She stayed in bed a little longer, though. She had a lot to think about before facing her daily routine. First, she thought of her job. Her current cases were ok; nothing too traumatic to handle. On the other hand, there was more to do at the lab since Grissom was gone, and Catherine was taking her duties as supervisor very seriously. So seriously that she wasn't working on the field at all. 'That's ok.' Sara thought. She could deal with it.

As for the rest … she cringed. It had gone beyond 'Murphy's law'; she would forever call it 'Sidle's law' now.

'What an awful day,' she thought. Actually it had been two days, Friday and Saturday. Or three, if she counted Thursday, with the cops and Grissom-

Sara rubbed her face. 'Don't go there' she ordered herself. 'Just get up.' She was determined to go to work early and forget all about last night. She'd do one task at a time, choose a suitable garment, eat something healthy, and leave on time.

She did all this carefully, and she even had spare time to check out her e-mail.

The message from caught her attention right away but she hesitated before opening it. After hearing about Grissom and Lady Heather, she didn't think she would ever think of Grissom the same way. She didn't like to admit it since it was absolutely ridiculous, but the truth was she had handled Grissom's rejections by assuming that he simply wasn't interested in anyone. She had assumed that for him, the job would always come first. But it wasn't like that, since Grissom had been more than interested in this Lady Heather, a suspect in a case. And that angered Sara, and it made her-

She almost said it aloud. 'Jealous.'

She opened the e-mail, just to stop thinking.

'Hey.' He wrote, 'Just a short note to let you know that I arrived last night at Panajachel (or 'Pana'), one of several villages surrounding the lake. Last night I couldn't see much of the lake itself, but right now I understand what the phrase 'take my breath away' means. It's a beautiful place, Sara; there are several volcanoes surrounding the lake, and from my window it looks as if the whole world is colored in bright shades of blue – the water, the sky, the volcanoes, and the mountains.

Now for the eerie part: I'm one of only ten guests at a fifty-room hotel, Sara. Last night I sat on this balcony and for a moment I felt as if I were alone in the world; just me and the moon. But it wasn't as peaceful as it sounds.

I couldn't take the silence and the inactivity. You know me. I can take the silence as long as I have lots to do.

Maybe I'm going through withdrawal; you know, from the job. Symptoms include insomnia, a pounding headache… and restlessness: I just can't sit back and enjoy the clean air and the stunning view… but I'll try. All I need is to fill the hours away, so apart from my work at the butterfly reserve, I'll take some scuba diving lessons. Greg would applaud, uh?

I'll write more later.

Grissom.

Enc.

She opened the enclosed file and smiled. He had taken the picture by holding the camera at arm's length, capturing himself in front of the lake. There was an explosion of blues in there: the sky, the lake, his t-shirt… but not the blue of his eyes, since he was wearing a baseball cap that shaded half his face. It didn't matter though; he was smiling and that smile was really the focus of the whole picture. Grissom just didn't smile enough.

'He looks happy', she thought wistfully. She touched the screen, trying to imagine what his face would feel like if she were there. Warm, from the sun. Silky, from the beard that he had grown in a year-

'Had she touched him? She suddenly asked herself, thinking of Lady Heather.

Sara turned off her PC.

Sara thought she'd have to go back to the garbage dump, but to her surprise, Eckley's people had found the bodies.

"Your arm has a body and a name now, Sara." Catherine said, showing her a picture of a young man, "Anthony Garcia. He was working at an adult video store on the strip. According to his boss, the guy was keeping a low profile."

"Do you think he was killed for leaving the gang?"

"Most probably," Catherine nodded, "The Manitos gang doesn't allow members to quit."

"I'll call Los Angeles then." Sara said, "They must have files on this gang and-"

"Hum, we won't be handling this case, Sara. We're handing it over to the Gang experts. It's not the first time the Manitos come to Vegas to 'disarm' their buddies, and they already have leads." Catherine shuffled some papers, "I need you to help Warrick. He's investigating a rape and murder case that he started investigating yesterday."

"Oh." Sara nodded, "Ok."

She hated rape cases.

SUNDAY: Warrick

Warrick Brown took a deep breath, trying to keep his impatience from showing. They had been talking to Shane Dulles since three in the morning and the guy had expertly evaded all their questions, even the tough ones posed by Sara. Too tough, in Brown's opinion.

Warrick wanted to be careful with this suspect; if this was the guy who had raped and killed Andrea Jones, he was way too cool to be rattled into a confession. Direct questioning or accusations wouldn't work with this man; not until they had some physical proof of his involvement.

Warrick's plan was to simply let him talk and get as much information from him. Sara however, was getting more and more aggressive in her questioning and Warrick was afraid Dulles would simply walk out or ask for a lawyer.

Warrick pushed his seat back and interrupted her.

"Sara, would you come with me, please?"

Sara shot him an unfriendly look but she followed him out of the interrogation room.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Warrick as soon as she closed the door.

"What does it look like to you?" she hissed back, "I'm trying to get some answers from this perp!"

"Sara, we're simply talking to this guy, we aren't close to making an arrest! I want this guy to talk freely; he might over talk and tell us some lie we can use against him. If we press him too hard, he'll lawyer up and we'll lose him!"

"He's guilty." She replied adamantly, "He's guilty and you know it-"

"No, I don't. Not until all the evidence gets processed."

She was going to protest but instead she backed off.

"Fine. Talk to him, then. Get him some coffee." She said angrily, "Me, I'm going back to review our evidence."

Later that day Warrick filed the tapes containing his interrogation of Shane Dulles. No, the man didn't confess, but he had made several statements that were clearly contradictory. And Sara and Dr. Robbins had gone over Andrea's body again, discovering a smudge on one of her toenails. A fingerprint.

It looked like the case would be solved after all.

Warrick sighed. He was tired, but there were two things he wanted to do before going home: Get breakfast and talk to his friend. Hopefully he would be able to do both at the same time…

He found Sara in the locker room.

"Hey, Sara," he said from the door, "We have a call. I need you to come with me."

"What?" she frowned, "Our shift is over-" she started, even though inwardly she was glad to have an excuse not to go home just yet.

"It might be related to our case." Warrick said, and that was enough for her. She followed him so eagerly that he felt a bit bad for fooling her like this. He only hoped she wouldn't be too pissed off.

Warrick held his breath when he parked the car in a quiet street. She immediately glanced around; there was not sign of police activity anywhere.

"Where is it?" she asked but he simply motioned her to follow him into a colorful restaurant.

"Is this a crime scene?" she asked, glancing around. The place was decorated with a Caribbean theme: palms, real coconuts and flowers.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded placidly, "It is."

It was a cozy place, the kind that pleases adults and kids alike. Sara could smell some savory scents coming from the kitchen: coffee… pancakes… fresh bread… juice…

"We're in luck," said Warrick, glancing at the empty tables. "In half an hour this place will be packed." He turned to the counter and greeted, "Hey, Serena!"

Sara turned in time to see a tall, gray haired woman look up and smile widely.

"Warrick! Baby, how are you?" She exclaimed, walking around the counter to hug him. She was as tall as Warrick, even in her flat sandals, "You brought a friend?" she asked, turning her attention to Sara

"This is Sara Sidle." Warrick said helpfully, "Sara, this is my aunt Serena, and she's a murderer."

Sara opened her mouth but only managed to smile uncomfortably. Serena laughed openly.

"Oh, you!" she said, "One of these days you'll get me in trouble for that little joke." she looked at Sara, "It's all because of my death-by-chocolate cake-" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, it is to die for-" Warrick added with a big smile, "All that butter and real Belgian chocolate-"

"And I suppose you want a slice?"

"Uh, no, not today. My cholesterol is acting up again." He said sheepishly, "We'd like something lighter, like pancakes with fruit compote. Strawberry, or pineapple, Sara? Everything here is home-made."

"Uh, well, Hum." Sara would have gladly answered, 'thanks but no thanks', but she knew she already owed Warrick an apology after last night's outburst. Besides she was hungry and things here smelled great. "Maybe strawberry." she said, looking at Serena.

"Very well!" she nodded, already walking away, "And some fruit juice." Serena added as she hurried to the kitchen, "And milk… and some real honey-" her voice trailed off.

Sara was relieved by the fact that Warrick's aunt wasn't a meddling woman. She had seated them in a quiet booth at the back of the restaurant, and after putting tall glasses of OJ and plates heaped with pancakes in front of them, she left.

They ate in silence; Sara felt a little overwhelmed by Warrick and Serena's kindness and she knew she had to say something. Sara cleared her throat.

"Thanks-" she started, but after a brief pause she blurted, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about- you know. I was getting angry at him and-"

"It's ok." He nodded, "I understand."

"It's just so damn frustrating-" she muttered.

"Hey. I know how it is." He said kindly, "Some cases hit us harder than others. For me, it's kids. For you, it's crimes against women."

Sara nodded, glad that he understood.

"Still..." he hesitated, "I think you take these cases too hard." He said cautiously, "I mean, we all want to solve our cases, but we're only human, Sara. Sometimes you act as if you've personally failed these women and -" Warrick paused when he noticed Sara's deep blush. "What is it? Sara, do you really feel you've failed them?"

"It's..." she opened her mouth to explain but she couldn't find the appropriate words. Her eyes filled with tears though, and suddenly there was no need for words. Warrick guessed that something awful had happened to her, he just didn't know what.

And then he thought he knew, and it was something too terrible to contemplate.

"Oh, God.... Sara." He dropped his fork, "Were you ever...?" he swallowed, "Did something happen to you-"

She shook her head.

"No." she said quickly, "Never." She admitted reluctantly, "But sometimes I-" her voice trailed off and he wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"-Sometimes, what?" he asked, looking at her in the eye. "Sara? Did you just say that sometimes you wish it had?"

Sara nodded, looking away.

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

"It's hard to explain-"

"Well, try." he said, "Because I sure don't believe you're serious."

Sara looked at the table, trying to get the courage to say this. A week ago she would have simply changed the subject but today? What the hell.

"A friend of mine was raped-" she whispered, without looking up.

"Oh, damn." He sighed.

"-It was during our first year in College." She added.

"Damn Sara. Did they get the guy?"

"No." she shook her head, "The cops never did a damn thing."

"College cops are useless sometimes-"

"It wasn't their fault, Warrick," she said, looking at him at last, "There was nothing they could do."

"Why?"

"Because my friend made a mess of things." She said softly, "By the time I got to her, she had already taken a shower and destroyed all the evidence." Sara closed her eyes, reliving the moment, "She had stripped the bed and washed the sheets, she had even tried to wash the mattress. She didn't even want to got to the hospital, despite the bruises and a concussion-" she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down. "All she wanted was to pretend that nothing had happened-" She looked at Warrick, "She begged me not to do anything, but of course I couldn't leave it like that, so I called the cops. She refused to cooperate"

"Some victims react like that." He nodded.

"She should have talked-" Sara said angrily, "she could have-"

"Hey, it's hard for some people, Sara. We know that." She nodded reluctantly and he asked, "So, what happened to her?"

"She said she wanted to forget the whole thing, but she couldn't." Sara took a deep breath, "Some days she couldn't even leave her room. She had nightmares and she became bulimic; she ended up transferring to another College-"

"Did she get any therapy or help?"

"I don't know-" She whispered.

"You don't?" he frowned.

"We fought all the time," Sara admitted, "By the time she left, we weren't talking anymore-"

Warrick stared at her.

"You turned your back on her after she refused to cooperate with the cops." He wasn't asking. He could very well imagine Sara acting self-righteously. When he noticed the blush intense on her cheeks again, he was sure. "Oh, man," Warrick said. "Sara, sometimes all we can do is to be there for our friends, no matter what they do or don't do."

To his surprise, she held back a sob. She put a hand on her eyes.

"Sara?"

"It was my fault." She confessed.

"Why?"

"It was my room." She said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"It happened in my room."

"That doesn't mean that it was your fault-"

"If I had have gone back with her, nothing bad would have happened-" she explained. She dropped her hand. Tears rolled down her face as she told her story, "We went to a conference that night." She said, "Our plan was to take notes and then go to my room to type them up. We were going back to the dorm, when some friends told us about a party; it wasn't my idea of fun, you know-" she smiled bitterly at the memory, "But Tine pressured me to go. She said I needed to be more popular. That I didn't need more study. Tina said, 'Go and have fun. Get laid for a change'. She didn't come along because she needed to improve her grades, so- She took our notes and went to my room to work on them. She was attacked there and…" and the life she knew was over, Sara could have added. "She never told me whether there was someone already there, or if she was attacked outside." She looked at Warrick, "But it was as if…as if it was meant for me and she was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You can't know that, Sara."

"I should have been there. I would have stopped him…" she said, swallowing hard, "I would have reported it, I wouldn't have been destroyed the way she was-"

She was openly crying. Heart wrenching sobs that were going to leave her out of breathe soon if she didn't calm down. Warrick didn't try to make her stop though; he didn't even tell her the usual platitudes –she would not believe in them anyway. He simply let her cry until the anger and the pain were washed out of her.

Serena came to their table, worriedly glancing at both of them. Warrick calmly shook his head to let her know that things were under control. She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and placed it on the table, and mouthing the words, "I'll bring some tea" to Warrick, she left.

When Sara leant back on her seat, she was exhausted. She felt drained and –she had to admit, ashamed.

"You won't let me forget this, huh?" she challenged weakly.

Warrick simply handed her the handkerchief. Sara took it gratefully and blew her nose-very noisily- before she really looked at it.

"You always carry lacy handkerchiefs in your pocket, Warrick?" she said, attempting a little humor; he answered in kind.

"Hey, it did the job didn't it?"

She nodded, and then she took a deep, shaky breath. Warrick reached out with his hand and patted hers.

"Sara." He said quietly, "It wasn't your fault."

"It has to be somebody's, Warrick." She said, "It's the only way I can understand how something like this can happen."

"It was the Perp's fault." Warrick said. "You and your friend were the victims here."

"I wasn't hurt-" she protested.

"Sara, you were violated too; he used your room. I can't imagine how you felt afterwards. You must have thought that anyone in the building could be guilty-"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"You've blamed yourself for something that was out of your control, Sara. There's something you did wrong, though."

She looked up, her eyes filling with tears again.

"You left your friend alone." He said.

"I know." She admitted, "I wanted to help her, but I kept pressing her to report the crime and… in the end we couldn't even talk anymore."

"You have to talk to her."

"Now?" she asked.

"Today." He said. "Apologize. Offer her a shoulder to cry on." He said.

Sara returned to the lab with Warrick. She went back to the locker room to pick up her shoulder bag. She had promised Warrick she would go home and sleep- and call Tina. Locating her wouldn't be a problem; making the call would be. But she was going to do it, today or tomorrow, she still wasn't sure.

Meanwhile, she felt as though she was someone else. Sara Sidle didn't trust people easily and yet, she had told Warrick something she had kept inside for years. She had he unpleasant feeling that life was getting out of her control.

She was walking down the hallway, when she saw Greg trying to wrestle something out of the candy machine, with no success. Sara cringed when she remembered their last conversation; apparently Greg did too because he barely looked up when she approached him.

"Greg? What's up?"

He shrugged.

"Damn machine's acting up again." He said dismissively.

"Maybe I can help." She suggested

"Nah, forget it. Nick tried to get his own bar and failed-"

But Sara had spent enough bucks on this machine to know what to do.

"Let me try, Greg." she said, gently moving him out of the way, "You see, there's a routine to this-" she explained. "First you do this…" She mumbled, delicately pulling, "…now you do this-" she mumbled, delicately pushing… "Now, you'll see," she said mysteriously, suddenly smashing her fist on the machine.

Greg blinked when he saw the candy bar meekly falling on her palm.

"Wow." He said adoringly, "Who are you, some sort of Super Woman?"

She smiled, handing him the bar.

"Anything else I can do for you, Greg?" she said smugly.

"Can you fly?" he asked eagerly, "Can you walk through walls?"

"Only when I drink Tequila," she said, and Greg laughed at the joke that wasn't really a joke. Sara hoped this man would never know the things she had done this past year.

"That was great," Greg said sincerely as he ripped the paper off his candy bar, "Thanks." He said, walking backwards to his lab.

Sara looked at him and suddenly she decided to be courageous.

"Greg?" she asked, following him, "Did you get a date for your party?"

"No." he said, looking sideways at her.

"Were you really serious about taking me, Greg? You weren't making fun of me?"

"Hell, no." he said quickly, "Sara, I'd really like you to come with me."

"You should take a girlfriend. Surely you have one-"

"I'm between girlfriends right now." He said. Then he lowered his voice, "Look. This is a high school reunion and at that time I was in the Chess squad, Sara; I wasn't- and I'm not - a glorified athlete. If I take any girl…I know what my former classmates will do; they'll show her pictures from that time and I know how I look on them-"

"Greg, that doesn't matter; you're smart, you're good looking-"

"You really think so?" he asked, his mood brightening.

"Hum. Well. Yes." She admitted reluctantly.

"Thanks. You're perhaps the only girl who would look at those pictures and still respect me-"

"Maybe not." She warned, smiling a little, "Maybe I'd tease you-"

"It wouldn't be so bad; you're not a mean person, Sara. And I think that if my former classmates showed you the pictures, you would turn protective of me"

"You want to take me as your bodyguard, then." She smiled

"Hot bodyguard" He amended. He looked thoughtfully at her, "Sara, the truth is…I just want to show you off."

"Show me off?"

"Sara, you're pretty, you've got brains, and you kick ass. You're my fantasy." He said honestly. There was a moment of silence between them that he broke, "I always had a crush on you." He confessed, "But I realized that you loved… you know, him. I understand." He said quietly. "Really."

She looked at him for a long time.

"Greg? If I say yes, you're not going to make me dance, are you? I'm not too good at that."

"No dancing for us Sara. The program includes: cocktails at five-thirty –non-alcoholic beverages since there are several A.A. guys in the group; dinner at six-thirty –plenty of vegetables in the menu, so don't worry; and a visit to a casino at nine, at which time we'll both be leaving for work."

"All right, then." Sara smiled, "At what time do I have to be there?"

TBC

Next: Monday---Brass