Disclaimer: OC belongs to me, CSI to someone else.

A/N: People who actually like to hear about my OC can read the whole chapter - if OC's just plain annoy you, read the first half. The second half is just character-building. Many thanks to Nerwen and Tinuviel for this and the past couple of chapters.

This chapter is rated A for Angst. Or Aardvarks. Whatever.

Sara came into the break room and headed straight for the coffee. Silently, she prayed that Greg had forgotten his Blue Hawaiian in the coffee pot again. No such luck. Well, at least it wasn't bitter.

"Hey Sara," Nick waved from one of the tables. He tossed back a handful of MnM's. "How was the interview with the McCormick model?"

"Enlightening." Sara said fishing around in the fridge for her sandwich. "She had a lot to say."

"Any idea where Tina Evelyn's at yet?" The Texan asked.

Sara shook her head. "Not yet. But Marcus is going away."

Nick frowned. "For the drugs? Sara, possession and dealing in crack isn't going to keep him behind bars for long… especially with his lawyers."

Sara sat down and started unwrapping her sandwich. Tuna."What about assault? Abuse?"

Nick tossed back the rest of the candies. "You're kidding? He actually did…" He shook his head. "Man, Sara, I owe you an apology. I thought you were crazy back there. He really did hit the models?"

"Yeah," Sara started eating. After a moment's silence, she looked over at Nick. He had a distant look on his face. Sara followed his gaze, and saw he was watching Warrick and Val sort though boxes of evidence in the layout room. Val brushed back her hair as she wrote something on the whiteboard, then frowned thoughtfully at it. Sara swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and barely hid a smile. "Penny for your thoughts?" She asked Nick.

"Hrm?" Nick looked over at Sara, distracted. "What?"

"Something on your mind?"

"No." Nick shook his head. "Nothing." He sipped at his own cup of coffee.

"Sounds more like something." Sara hinted, only just able to keep a straight face.

Nick took another sip of coffee, frowning thoughtfully, then asked, "Hey, Sara, you're…well, you're friends with Val, right?"

Friends? Sorta. "I guess so. Why?"

"Well, do you…" Nick tilted his head from side to side, as though unsure how to phrase his question. "Do you think she's seeing anyone?"

"So that's what this is about." Sara grinned and took another bite of her sandwich.

Nick frowned at Sara. "What is?"

Sara smiled. "You like Val, huh?"

"No, it's just I was just wondering." Nick shook his head and took another sip of his coffee.

Sara grinned again. "You always go after the new girls, don't you, Nick?"

Nick smiled patronisingly and tried to reassert himself. "No, I don't. And she's a temp, not a new girl."

"So," Sara tried her best to look innocuous, "The fact she's a red-head has nothing to do with the fact you want to ask her out?"

"Of course not." As soon as he'd said this, Nick's eyes widened. He realised he'd trapped himself. "Wait, that came out wrong." He winced at Sara's beaming smile.

"That's so sweet," Sara teased.

"Shut. Up." Nick threatened with pointed finger. "Not. A. Word."

"You know," She said conversationally, finishing off her coffee, "Going after the new girl is going to get you in trouble."

Nick grinned and turned the tables. "Hey, at least I'm not going after the boss."

Sara's smile froze and vanished. "I… you… who…" She regained control of her face long enough to look insulted. "Who told you that?" Nick just grinned. Sara glowered at him, furious. "That's my personal business, Nick, it has nothing to do with you."

Nick grinned, triumphant. "We're CSI's, Sara." He rose to his feet, empty coffee cup in one hand, MnM's wrapper in the other. He dumped both in the trash. "We notice everything."

Someone cleared their throat. "Well, not exactly everything."

Nick and Sara turned to see Grissom and Valerie standing in the doorway. He was blank-faced; she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Oh. Hi." Nick looked from his boss to the temp and back again. 'How long have you guys been standing there?"

"Oh, not long." Val said, still grinning, "Somewhere around the 'new girl' remark, I think." She shook her head, then motioned to Sara. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Sara gulped down the rest of her sandwich, then bolted out of the room.

Grissom watched the girls go, then turned back to Nick. "You done?"

Nick winced, clearly expecting a reprimand. "Yessir."

"Then you should get back to work." Grissom suggested. "See if Greg's done analysing the blood samples you gave him."

"Yessir."

"And Nick?"

Nick relaxed a little. "Yeah, boss?"

"Valerie is going back to Seattle in less than a week." Grissom's lips curved in the barest ghost of a smile. "I wouldn't get involved with her if I were you. You might never see her again."

"You see Sara everyday." Nick protested.

Grissom frowned, his smile instantly vanishing. "I'm not talking about Sara."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "No, but you heard what she said." He gave Grissom a very pointed look. "And I wasn't kidding about noticing things."

Grissom shook his head. "You need to be a little bit more observant sometimes, Nick." He turned and walked away, a folder under his arm like a bible under an exorcist's.

Nick shook his head sadly, then got back to work.

((A/N: Any comments about Grissom's lips will be looked upon with great tolerance (since I know some ppl lub Billeh) but a shake of the head will ensue.))

-

"Just what did you want to talk to me about, anyway?" Sara asked, as Val led the way through the corridors. Val looked sideways at her, then shrugged.

"I was just going to get something to eat, but I overheard you guys talking…" She peered around the corners of the lockers. The room was empty. Dark. Quiet. Val turned to face Sara.

"I screwed up."

Sara blinked. "Screwed up? What, in your case?"

Val winced and shook her head. "No, the case… it... It's fine. We're getting there." She sighed, then scuffed her toes on the linoleum. "I heard what you and Nick were saying. About me." She sighed, and looked to Sara, pleading. "Could you… Could you tell him I already have a boyfriend? Or something? Because I don't want to get involved… with him. With anyone."

Sara blinked again. "You're the one who gave him your phone number."

Val sat down and put her head in her hands. "I know. I know…" She sighed. "And it was stupid of me."

Sara sat down opposite Val. "What's wrong?"

Val sighed, as though resigning herself to something. "You know how you saw my scar, before?"

Sara nodded.

"Well," Val continued, uncomfortably, "I… They're constant reminders of a relationship gone bad, and…" She bit her lip, "I screwed up, okay? Badly. And I want to end things with Nick before they begin, so it doesn't happen again." She sighed and put her head in her hands once more.

Sara stared at Val. A relationship gone bad? "What are you talking about?"

Val played with her watch - putting it off, putting it back on, fastening and refastening the catch - as she talked. "I've been a CSI for, what, nearly four years now? And I stuck to cases like a limpet. I got everything done. I focused on the case, on the evidence, on the science of it all. And that was it." She paused, awkwardly. "I'm a people-person by nature, Sara. But at the same time, I'm not good at getting to know people." She snorted. "Doesn't make much sense, really, but that's who I am."

"Val, listen, if you don't wanna talk about it…"

Val's head snapped up. Her voice cracked with desperation. "Look, I have to tell someone here!" Her voice softened. "I trust you, Sara. Please, I have to tell someone."

Sara nodded. "Okay."

Val took a breath and continued. "It was all science for me, in Seattle. All specimens and science. I had co-workers, but no-one I could talk to. Aside from my own family." Val paused a moment, readjusted her watch again. "But then… there was this guy… and he made me see that being a CSI didn't have to mean that I had to be a robot. He made see that… That I was worth something. That I didn't have to be afraid." She stopped fiddling with her watch. "You know what I'm talking about?"

Someone who makes you feel special. Someone who keeps you coming back for more. Sara nodded slowly.

Val sighed. "He was… different. I mean, I'd never met anyone who believed in the job like he did." A longer pause. "That's why it hurt so bad when… When…" Val's voice cracked, and she changed the subject. "You know, I shouldn't even be talking about this." She stood up. "We're still on shift. We should get back to work." She headed for the door.

"Valerie," Sara called out. "You're the one who wanted to talk about this."

Val stopped, turned back, and sat down again. "Sorry."

"Maybe you should just tell me how you got the scars."

Val squirmed, uncomfortable. "I don't really like talking about them."

"About what?"

Sara and Valerie turned to see Warrick standing in the doorway.

"Nothing." Sara said. "We were just having a girl-talk."

But Val was like a dam - she'd burst open, and there was no going back. She stood up. She rolled back her sleeves to her shoulders. She pulled up her shirt to reveal her navel. She pulled back a section of her long red hair from her forehead. Across her arms, on her stomach, and along her hairline, long white scars criss-crossed her skin. The scar on her stomach, however, was thicker, and dotted with marks where stitches had been. Sara and Warrick stared, horrified.

"My scars," Val said coolly, even though her voice was trembling. She dropped her hair and shirt, rolled her sleeves back down. "I'm a freakin' Frankenstein." She sat down and looked at her hands. "But you live and you learn, right?"

Warrick looked over at Sara, then down at Val. "I… I'm sorry, Val…"

"Why should you be sorry?" Val snorted. "You had nothing to do with it."

"What happened?" Sara asked, gently. She and Warrick both sat down.

Val's hands clenched into fists. "What's the hardest case you've ever done, guys?" Her voice trembled. Val sighed, took a deep breath, tried again. "What's the hardest case you've ever had to do?"

Warrick looked at Sara, then spoke gently, "A friend of mine, he'd help me grow up. He was a good man, and a great father. But some punk kid got a gun, stole a car, and did a drive-by. Sprayed his house with bullets. Killed his daughter." Warrick looked around. Misery loves company. "And I messed up. I picked some thief to be the killer when it wasn't. And Matt Phelps got put in jail 'cause of me."

Sara looked down at her feet. Hardest case? "My hardest case was Liquid Man." She wrinkled her nose at the memory of it. "Some casino manager zipped up a homeless guy in a bag and dropped him off a cliff. After two months, all that was left of the homeless guy was a puddle of human ooze."

Warrick chuckled. "Yeah, and you stank after cleaning that mess up."

"Thanks." Sara gave him an icy look.

Val didn't say anything for a moment. Then, "My hardest case," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Was back in Seattle. A drunk-driver had crashed his car into a tree. Killed instantly… with a bottle of beer jammed down his throat. They had to bury him with shards of glass still imbedded in his neck."

Sara and Warrick stared, horrified, but did not interrupt.

"The passenger, the driver's girlfriend, lived. They sent her off to hospital, connected her up to machines, stuck a drip in her arm, covered her broken limbs in plaster. But they told me she'd live." Val swallowed. "A few hours later, I watched her die. And there was nothing I could do."

Sara frowned. "CSI's aren't supposed to be at hospitals taking care of victims," she pointed out. "What were you doing there?"

"Oh," Val shrugged, "I wasn't a CSI at that time. I was a nurse." Val unclenched her hands - they shook. She clenched them again. "But after I watched that woman die, all I could ask was 'why?'. So many questions I couldn't answer but all starting with 'why'. I became a CSI so I could help people who had lost loved ones of their own get the answers to their own 'why's. Less than a year looking after people in white sterile rooms… watching the hope drain from people's faces… I couldn't do it anymore." Val shook her head. "So it was a CSI's life for me." She straightened a little. "And I'm damn proud of it."

"But how'd you get the scars?" Sara blurted, and then wished she hadn't.

But Val just took a deep breath and smiled unsteadily. "You know that guy I was talking about, Sara?" She didn't wait for Sara's response. "Well, we were working on a case together. A serial killer. And the police were securing a warehouse where he was thought to be hiding. The two of us, we got all gung-ho. To hell with protocols about clearing the scene - we've got guns. We can take care of ourselves." While she was talking, Val was absently rubbing the spot on her stomach where her scar was, through the cloth of her shirt. "So we went in." Val bowed her head. "We'd gotten the evidence. We knew this murderer's limits. We were safe…" She shook her head. "No, we didn't know a damn thing." She took a deep breath. "He came at me with a machete."

"A what?" Warrick stared.

"Machete," Val confirmed. "Ran me through," she pointed to her stomach, "Then sliced me up like a side of beef." Val looked up at Warrick and Sara, her grey-green eyes dull. "They got him, alright, but it was off to the hospital for me. On the way, I died. They brought me back with emergency blood transfusions and a whole lotta stiches, but my partner didn't know that. He thought I was dead. So he put a bullet through his brain."

Sara gasped. Warrick went pale.

"My hardest case? Staying a CSI." She looked stonily at the Vegas CSI's. "It's just science, specimens, and process for me now. I can't afford to let people come into the equation. That's the reason why I don't want Nick to try and start anything with me. Because he and I will both get hurt." She rose to her feet slowly. "Listen, I trust you guys, okay? So could you not tell anyone what I've just told you? Please?"

"Scout's honour," Warrick nodded. Sara nodded too, too shocked to say anything.

Val smiled faintly. "Thanks." She closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, then smiled and looked up at Warrick. "I gather you came here to tell me something?"

Warrick nodded, still stunned. "Yeah. Umm, yeah. Your guess was right. All the houses where the serial killer operated were in the same area, using those 'mass-produced house' blueprints. A couple were even on the same street."

"Any hunches?" Val frowned.

Warrick blinked. "How can you just concentrate on a case after what you just… After what you…"

Val shrugged. "It's who I am. I deal. I get over it." She smiled apologetically. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I told you my sob-story," She said, deriding herself. "Now you're going to be walking on eggshells when you're around me." She shrugged. "Just forget I said anything."

Warrick put a hand on Val's arm in sympathy. "You sure?"

Val smiled. "Of course." She smiled wider. "Come on, we're still shift. We'll all get fired if we're still hanging around here."

Warrick rolled his eyes and grinned in agreement. "Yeah, especially if Hodges catches us."

"Hodges?" Val raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like someone to avoid."

Warrick snorted with laughter. "Oh, yeah." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll meet you back in the layout room. Something I want to show you."

Val nodded. "Sure thing."

Sara waited until Warrick had gone before turning to Val. "Why don't you tell Nick what you told us?"

"Because he'd try and make me forget it, or something," Val said lightly. "I know his type. Knight in shining armour. Wants to make the world all warm and fuzzy." She shook her head. "Not going to happen."

"Why not?" Sara insisted. "I think you…"

Val shook her head again. "Sara, please. I just don't want to have to go through all that heartache again." She sighed. "Workplace romance doesn't work."

Sara thought of Grissom, and met the red-head's gaze icily. "Do you really believe that?"

"Let me finish the sentence," Val said with a wry smile. "Workplace romance doesn't work… for me. Never has, never will. Especially with me messing everything up." She snorted. "I travel a lot, take a lot of holidays, because it's a way to makes friends, have happy memories, without going too deep. And that's what this is, Sara." Val sighed. "A working holiday. I don't want to get involved with Nick, Greg, or anyone here." She looked away. "I'm hopeless, but I'll get over it."

"You shouldn't give up on yourself that easily," Sara said gently. "You should give it a shot. It's not all that bad."

"I just don't want to take that chance." Val said simply.

A/N: Like I said. Angst. Don't worry, the next chapter will be a little more cheery. Pfaugh. I write fluff and have to kill someone; angst, and I feel like I've gone too far with the melodrama. I suck. Or do I? Make your reviews out to ICRepresentative, or just plain ole ICRep. (Val has an incredible amount of backstory - I hope I'm not boring you.)