Disclaimer: Val is my creation, the rest is not.

A/N: I know, I know, you love my stories. But I'm in year eleven now. So I'll prolly be updating weekly instead of daily. Sorry. School sux, I know.

"Hey man," Nick opened the door to the DNA lab and handed the spiky-haired labrat a box full of the blood samples from the catwalk. "Could you process these for me?"

Greg glowered up at Nick as he took the box. "Sure," he bit off the words, "I would be SO happy to."

Nick frowned. "What's your problem?"

Greg put the box down and glared up at Nick. "My problem? My problem? I don't have a problem!" Nick blinked. Greg kept going, "No, no problem at all. I mean, it's not like you're trying to steal my girlfriend or anything… Oh wait, yes you are."

"What are you talking about?" Nick smiled, uneasily.

Greg started sorting through the pile of blood samples. "Oh, nothing. Aside from Val, nothing really."

"Hold up," Nick frowned good-naturedly, "You're mad at me because Val gave me her phone number?"

"Oh," Greg rolled his eyes, "So you do know what I'm talking about!" He muttered under his breath.

Nick bit back a smile. "Yeah, okay man. Just process the swabs for me, will you? This is kinda important."

"What are you guys investigating anyway?" Greg whined, "A multiple? Day shift has already piled two lots of those on me tonight and I…"

"A supermodel was kidnapped from Caesar's, and we found blood all over the catwalk."

Greg's bad mood vanished instantly. "Supermodel? Did you get to meet other supermodels?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah, and we're bringing in the other five for interrogation."

"When? When?!"

"Down, boy," Nick grinned. "I'll page you when they come in, okay?"

Greg grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Awesome!" He spun around in his chair and rocked to an unheard song.

There was a knock on the door, and the boys turned to see Val behind the glass. Greg waved at her, and she came in. "Hey, guys." She held up a bag full of samples. "You're not too busy, are you, Greg?"

"Not at all," Greg said smoothly, pushing Nick's box out of the way. Nick rolled his eyes and shrugged at Val. Val smiled back.

Greg saw the glance that passed between them, and frowned slightly. He grabbed the Seattleite's attention again, "Nice to see you're not dressed so formal today." Val was wearing jeans and a shirt. Sure, the short was long-sleeved and collared, but it was pink, so she definitely looked more relaxed.

"Yeah," Val said dryly, not even batting an eyelid, "Apparently the power suits were a little intimidating." There was something in the way that Val avoided Nick's eye contact that made it obvious the comment was directed at him.

"So, Valerie," Greg cleared his throat and put on his charming face, "What are you investigating?"

"Rape-murder," Val said matter-of-factly, "And Warrick's getting diving equipment so we can see how the killer got in."

Nick frowned. "I thought you and Warrick were in the outer suburbs."

Val nodded. "We are. The killer dug under the house and used the trapdoor."

"You're kidding."

Val shook her head. "Nup. So I'm going into the crawl-space."

Greg interrupted, "Well, Nick's case sounds nowhere as interesting. He's just investigating a kidnapped supermodel."

Val blinked at Greg, then raised an eyebrow. "Are you just saying that to try and impress me?"

"Is it working?" He grinned roguishly.

Val smiled… slowly. "Do you really want to know?"

Nick coughed sideways, hiding a word that sounded something like 'suck-up'. Greg glared at him.

"Supermodels, huh?" Val raised an eyebrow, "So, how does that work?"

"I dunno," Greg shrugged. "But they're coming in for interviews later. Well, interviews with Nick."

Val tried not to smile as she turned to face Nick. "Sounds like you got your work cut out for you…" She frowned. "Why are you staring at me?"

Nick shook himself. "Huh? What?"

Val raised an eyebrow. "You're looking at me like you expect me to suddenly spontaneously combust or something."

That's not what I was thinking. I was thinking I couldn't stand to see you get shot again…

"You don't need to spontaneously combust, Valerie," Greg grinned, "You're already on fi-yar!"

Val folded her arms and sighed. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Greg. Just process the samples for me, will you?"

Greg bowed, and started opening some of the samples. "Your wish is your command, Lady Wilks," he said, putting on a posh accent.

Valerie looked unimpressed. "… Greg, a girl was raped and murdered."

"Right. Sorry." Greg got to work.

Nick cleared his throat. "Hey, Valerie? When you're not busy, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind…"

"Hey!" Greg lifted his head, outraged, "Are you trying to ask her out? The nerve of you, Stokes! I got her number first!"

Val blinked, then sighed. "… boys, boys, please…" She started to blush.

"Sorry." Nick backed down.

Greg butted in and grinned at Valerie. "Would you go out with me?"

This time it was Nick's turn to be outraged. "Greg!"

The labrat grinned. "What?"

Val shook her head, still blushing. "Sort it out between yourselves first." She sighed, then headed for the door, "Thanks. Bye." She shut the door behind her. Sara was there, outside the lab.

"Hey, Val!" She smiled.

"Hey, Sara," Val smiled as she passed her, but under the smile, she was very pale, and looked like she was about to be sick. Sara frowned at Valerie's strange reaction, shrugged, then went into the lab. Nick and Greg were scowling at each other.

"Ok," she interrupted the glaring match, "What just happened?"

Greg pointed an accusing finger. "He ruined my chances of getting a date with Valerie!"

"I ruined your chances?!" Nick sounded incredulous. "Gimme a break!"

Sara turned back to look through the glass. She turned just in time to see Val's walking speed go from business-like march to sprinting as Val headed down the corridors. She dashed around the corner and was lost to Sara's sight.

"Would you boys excuse me for a minute?" Sara slipped out of the lab and followed after Val.

Greg gaped at Sara's retreating back, then turned and shook his head at Nick. "You know, you are seriously ruining my chances of a decent love life. First Val, now Sara... Y'know, I'm beginning to think you have a grudge against me. Turning away all my women…"

"And I think all that hair gel is doing something to your brain."

"At least I got a brain."

"Touché."

"Listen, Stokes," Greg shook a warning finger at Nick. "You keep away from Val. She's mine."

"Says who?"

Sara stopped, and looked around. Val had vanished. Well, not entirely. There was only one of two doors she could have gone through. Sara pushed the door to the Ladies' Room open and slipped inside.

Val was standing in front of one of the mirrors, staring at her reflection. Water was dripping over her face, like she'd just splashed herself with water. She had pulled the corner of her shirt up with her left hand, exposing her stomach. With her right hand, Val was pressing her fingers against a diagonal white scar that ran from her ribs to her bellybutton, left-to-right.

"That looks nasty." Sara offered gently.

Val jumped as though she'd just been shot. She whirled, her eyes wide, and stared at Sara. Then, without a word, she pushed past the CSI and dashed outside.

After a moment of shock at the red-head's reaction, Sara turned and hurried after her.

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Sara found Val outside, standing in the cool night air, biting on her knuckles. She had her back to Sara.

"I'm sorry," Val said, not even turning around. "I didn't mean to freak out."

"'Freak out?' That's an understatement…" Sara paused, then added, "Are you alright?"

Val nodded. "Yeah, I'm…" She took a deep breath, nodded again. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't like it when people see my scars."

Sara stared. "Scars? Plural? As in, there was more than one of those?"

Val winced. "Yeah."

Sara stood next to Val. "How did that happen?"

Val waved the question away. "I'll tell you later. I don't feel like talking about them right now. I just… I guess I need a breather." She shook her head and chuckled bitterly. "It's been a while since someone's asked me that question. Thing is, you actually sound sympathetic, which is…" Val sighed, then smiled suddenly at Sara. "Hey, don't let me forget: I bought you something today. Before work started."

"You…" Sara was thrown by the sudden change of topic, but she didn't let it show. "You bought me something?"

The red-head nodded. "Yeah. After work, I went shopping." Her eyes lit up, "The prices in Vegas are awesome. Anyway, I saw something I thought you'd like, and I just had to grab it."

"How would you know what I like?" Sara frowned. "You only met me last shift."

Val shrugged. "I'm good at figuring out what people are like." She looked up at the stars and sighed.

Sara would have offered some kind of sympathetic response, if she'd been able to think of one. Fortunately, her beeper went off. It was Grissom.

"I have to go," she said, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Val smiled. "Hell, yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry about me." The red-head grinned. "I'd worry about Greg, though. He's gonna have a field-day with all those models coming in."

Sara bit back a smile of her own. "Strangely enough, that's exactly what Grissom paged me about. They're here now."

Val's smile turned wry. "Why didn't you just interview them at the site? I mean, it's not like they've committed a crime. Right?"

Sara shrugged. "Well, when we tried to talk to any of them, all of the girls had nothing to say. And given the way that their agent kept scowling, he was making them say nothing."

"And given the way you're scowling," Val grinned, "You don't like the agent. What he do, threaten to call the cops?"

"He offered to hire me."

Val laughed. "Is that all? Sara that is probably the highest compliment a guy can give a girl. 'You aughtta be a supermodel'? Even if that was a line, I'd bite!"

Sara shrugged, not smiling. "I'd rather not get into any business that treats human beings like cattle."

"Something tells me you've used that line before." Val said, with raised eyebrow.

Sara smiled. "It came to me while I was on the catwalk."

"On… the catwalk?" Val blinked.

"Well, I have to go. Grissom wants me to help interview the manager and the models. Nick and Greg are apparently already at the station, waiting."

Val's grin widened further. "Oh, this I have to see!"

-

Brass and Grissom looked through the glass. Five slim, attractive young women lounged in the lobby of the police station, looking bored. All except for Jackie, who was staring about her with wide-eyed wonder, one of her stuffed animals tucked in the crook of her arm. Marcus Vincent was pacing back and forth, barking orders into his phone and generally getting stressed out.

"Monica Mareschka, Dana McCormick, Samantha Renée, Ayumi Ohashi, and Jacqueline Connors. They don't call 'em supermodels for nothin'." Brass turned back to Grissom, unable to hide a childlike grin. "So. Whom do we interview first?"

Grissom frowned through the glass. One of the models looked his way, frowned back, then looked away, feigning boredom again.

"Perhaps we should get the manager out of there," Grissom tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe then the models will be more responsive."

"Mmm-hmm…" Brass looked over the girls appreciatively.

"Jim…" Grissom warned, "Three days, then lawsuits, remember? Or would you rather it were the other way around?"

Brass sighed resignedly, then nodded. "Right." He opened the door, called for Marcus, then lead him down the hallway to one of the interrogation rooms. The agent complained the whole way.

"This is completely and utterly unfounded! You have no right to detain me or the girls! I ain't broken no laws, and I ain't got nothin' to do with Tina's disappearance! Hey! Quit crowding! One more stunt like that, buddy, and you'll be so deep in red-tape you won't even be able to breathe…"

Grissom looked through the glass again, this time to frown at Greg. The labrat had been standing there for at least five minutes. Just staring.

Sara and Val came up behind Greg, and exchanged glances. Val cleared her throat.

"We need a mop on aisle four," she called, "Excessive drool in the hallway."

"These… ladies," Greg sighed, like a kid in a candy store, "Are just fantastic. Not," he added, without taking his eyes off the models, "That you two ladies aren't fantastic, but they are… just… so… so…"

"So much more fantastic?"

Greg whimpered an affirmative.

"Beauty's only skin-deep, Greg." Sara added.

"And their skin looks fantastic…"

Val rolled her eyes, then grinned. "Well, this has been fun. But I really should go and get to work on my case."

"Yeah," Sara smiled tightly. "Have fun."

Brass remerged in the glass room, and called for one of the models. She rose to her feet - on legs to long and tan they made Greg whimper anew - and followed Brass out of the room. The remaining four models sighed, stretched, and resigned themselves to waiting.

"Whoo! Check them out!"

Sara and Val turned to find Nick and Warrick standing behind them. Nick looked sheepish, and Warrick was craning to see the remaining models. "Damn, they fine!"

"What are you doing here?" Sara asked Warrick.

Warrick grinned back. "I came looking for Val." He looked at the red-head and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Everything's in the Tahoe, ready to-go." The pun on the syllables was not lost on Valerie, but she didn't show it.

"That's great," she nodded. "But are you ready to go?"

Warrick looked crushed. "But I just got here." He looked through the glass windows. "I don't even know their names yet!"

Nick held up a list for his friend. "Here."

Greg whirled around and snatched it from him before Warrick could even move, then returned to his post right up against the glass. Warrick starred, then tried to pull the list from the labrat. But Greg refused to budge. Warrick and Greg started a silent bout of tug-o-war, both determined to get the list, and both determined not to tear it.

"Okay, it's getting pretty sad in here," Val crossed her arms.

"And we're outnumbered," Sara agreed.

Nick shrugged. Sara sighed. Val rolled her eyes again, shook her head, and turned to go. But blocking her path was one of the models.

"Do I know you?" The model said smoothly, with a voice like silk. Warrick and Greg both turned to gape, greg being the one still holding the list.

Valerie frowned and shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"You sure?" She smiled genteelly, her accent sounding slightly French, "Because I could have sworn I recognised you from somewhere. You weren't on a billboard, or something?"

Nick gaped.

But Val shook her head. "No, I'm… I've never been in the fashion industry."

The woman smiled a little wider. "Well, you know, you could be. I mean, you've got the face. And I just love your wardrobe."

Val avoided looking self-consciously down at her jeans, but barely. She managed a weak, if not confused, smile.

"You know," the woman continued, her features calm and serene, "If you wanted, you could go far. Take it from me; I'm in the business."

"You are the business," Greg breathed reverently. According to the list in his hands, the woman talking to Val was Samantha Renée.

"If you got your hair done up," Samantha continued, "Put on a bit of makeup, you could be one of us…" She smiled again, but this time, unfriendly and predatory. "But then, you'd definitely have to lose some weight."

Val gasped, surprised, and pulled an incredulous face. "What?"

"You heard me," Samantha said as she walked away, "Fat girl." The supermodel laughed as she was led down the hall by Brass, who only looked back to wince apologetically at Val.

There was silence among the CSI's for a moment. No-one really knew what to say.

"Well," Greg shrugged, "I guess she's one of the meaner ones." He mimed crossing Samantha's name off the list.

"Uh, Val? Are you ok?" Nick put his hand gently on her arm, then removed it.

Val slowly managed to regain control of the expression on her face. She took a breath, and was the picture of calm again… if not the fighting-not-to-scream-and-beat-the-living-daylights-out-of-that-bitch kind of calm. "Come on, Warrick. We have a case to solve." And with that, she turned and headed down the corridors.

Sara looked at Nick with raised eyebrow. "And you wondered why I didn't want to be considered a candidate for modelling?"

"If you develop an attitude like that," Warrick winced, "Then don't even think about it." He turned and ran after Val, calling for her to slow down.

Greg turned back to the models inside the room, looking a lot less engrossed than before.

"Beauty's only skin-deep," Sara reminded him.

TBC

A/N: I apologise to people who love pure, unadulterated CSI case-files. I love them too, but I've added in another character, and I have seven shifts to introduce her to you. The rest of the cast has five seasons' worth of introduction time, so I hope you can understand why I'm kinda pushing Val to the limit. I'm also definitely trying to make the case-files as engaging as the RelationFiles. I'm also, at the insistence of Nerwen and Tinuviel, trying to get Grissom and Sara together. He's a slippery bastard, I'll give him that. :P

I also apologise to people actually in the beauty business - I'm sure you're not all like Samantha. But I'm playing on the stereotypes here. I'm sure a lot of beautiful people are actually very nice, Angelina Jolie and Keira Knightly, for ones.

Do you know how hard it is to write a scene where someone subtly calls someone 'fat' in front of a crowd?