Precious Things by SLynn
Spoilers: Up to 'Nesting Dolls'
Rating: R for violence and disturbing content
Disclaimer: Not mine – well, some are mine, just not the ones you recognize.
Chapter 3: Nothing
"What do we know?"
They'd all expected that question to come sooner. Grissom, nearly finished with dinner, surveyed his team. Catherine had the night off and for once hadn't come in. Lindsey was sick with the flu and she just couldn't leave her with a babysitter like that. Sofia had also begged off, she was as worn out as they were and it really wasn't her case to be discussing. That left only Greg, Sara, Warrick and Nick. Amy had eaten quickly and gotten straight to business in the lab.
"So far," Warrick answered, "not much. Both victims were young, both female, both white, both blond. Two isn't much to base a pattern off of but I think we've got a good idea what his taste is."
"What else?" he asked again.
"Both girls were manually strangled, eye to eye," Sara put in this time, "Means it's personal, at least for the assailant. They both showed signs of rape but no semen. Could mean he either used a condom or a foreign object."
Grissom nodded and looked from Nick to Greg. They were both being extremely quiet which was rare. Grissom knew how personally they both took this case. That each of them was carrying guilt over the wreck the Harris scene turned into.
"We didn't get anything off of the underwear from the Harris girl," Warrick continued. "Just the victim's saliva. Amy's working the current case now."
"Good," Grissom said, "I want you and Greg to work the new case. Check back with Amy, see what she's found. Talk to Brass, he's still working to ID the girl. Sara, you and I are going to take a robbery turned homicide off the strip. Nick, am I correct in assuming you'll be here for the night?"
Nick just nodded.
"Good," Grissom continued, "see if you can get anything new off of our latest victim's clothes."
That was it and they knew it. Everyone stood to go, to clean up and start what would undoubtedly be a long shift.
"Nick, Greg," Grissom said before he left, "a moment please."
Sara and Warrick took that as their indication to leave and did just that. Sara, with one parting look in Greg's direction, shut the door on her way out. Nick and Greg sat back down.
"I've already spoken with Warrick and he knows once you're back Nick that this case is going to be yours and Greg's."
Both men nodded and continued to listen.
"When are you going to be cleared?"
"My final check-up is in three days," Nick answered. "I'll be back in that night on Thursday."
"Good. You're going to be the primary on this."
Nick hadn't really expected that. He'd expected Grissom to take lead on this but wasn't about to turn it down.
"I want nightly updates on this," Grissom said quite seriously, "Ecklie already wants results."
Again they nodded.
"There's going to be media coverage on this one."
Grissom didn't have to ask the next question. He wanted to make sure they really were alright with this. Actually, he wanted to make sure Greg was really alright with this but didn't want to be obvious about it.
"No problem," Nick said evenly.
Greg just nodded once more.
"Okay," Grissom said and they both stood.
"Greg, wait a minute."
Nick left, tapping Greg twice on the shoulder as he sat back down again.
"I need to be on this case Griss," Greg said before he'd even opened his mouth. "I don't care about the news. That doesn't matter to me."
"I know," he returned sounding less harsh then Greg had expected. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
Greg looked at him, curious as to what it could be if it wasn't that.
"I got a call from Dr. Tracey today."
Greg felt the color draining from his face. He'd never seen that look of Grissom's, the one he saved for times when he was truly disappointed, directed at him so intently. Greg thought he might be sick.
"She wanted to know if I normally worked my employees so hard that they don't have time to make their appointments."
Greg dragged his palm hard across his face leaving it to rest on his forehead and shutting his eyes tight.
"She asked that I let you know she's rescheduled you for tomorrow morning at eight."
He was nodding now, eyes still shut but unspeaking.
"Greg," Grissom started but stopped abruptly, trying to regain calm.
Greg met his eyes then, he'd never heard Grissom sound that angry. Greg could see it in his eyes even. Anger and disappointment.
"Greg," he repeated his voice nearer to normal but not quite, "you know how important these tests are. This isn't something you can brush off or ignore."
Greg knew he mumbled something to that but Grissom just kept on talking.
"Now if I have to, I will personally drive you down…"
"No, you don't. I'll go, I will," Greg cut in, "I promise."
"I'll be calling Dr. Tracey tomorrow."
"You won't need too."
"Good," Grissom said getting to his feet.
Greg got up only after he'd left. Sighing in frustration, he threw away his soda can before heading out himself. His night just got a lot longer.
Quick as he could he made it down the hall and seeing Warrick in the DNA lab went in himself.
"Tell him," Warrick said sounding less then happy. Amy didn't look so happy herself.
"Tell me what?" Greg asked, not sure he wanted to hear it.
"I've got nothing."
"Nothing?" Greg repeated.
"Nothing. Martha Stewart doesn't keep her panties this clean. There's no vaginal discharge, no semen, no pubic hair. Nothing. Just the victim's saliva on the outside of underwear. Same as Emily Harris."
"What does that mean?" Greg asked mostly to himself.
"Vic's underwear was missing," Warrick mused, "so what? He's taking the girl's underwear and replacing them?"
"With brand new pairs," Amy supplied causing them to both look at her in surprise. "Like fresh out of the package. They were both the same brand, same size, same pastel shade. Kind you'd get in a department store, packaged in three's."
They both just continued to look at her.
"Okay, probably too much information," she said looking down at her hands a bit embarrassed, "Point is, they've never been washed. I asked Dave to take a look at them and he found formaldehyde."
"Formaldehyde?" Warrick asked.
"Yeah," Amy said nodding her head, "We looked it up. They treat new clothes with formaldehyde to keep it from mildewing. Washes off, so these pairs were never worn."
"Forget that," Greg said still looking at her oddly, "Who's Dave?"
It was Amy's turn to look at him oddly.
"Dave," Amy repeated like he might be joking, "from trace."
Greg still continued to stare blankly. Warrick struggled to suppress a laugh.
"David Hodges," Amy said once more, "You know. Works right over there. What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" he asked in return before turning to Warrick, "Dave? When did we start calling Hodges Dave?"
Warrick just held up his hands, smiling now at Greg's confusion.
"What? I don't call you two Sanders and Brown."
"I know but we're not the devil's cabana boy."
Amy rolled her eyes and handing her report off to him.
"Go," she said flatly pointing the way.
Warrick gently pushed Greg out the door, laughing now as the other man shook his head.
"Dave?" he muttered still shaking his head, "She needs to get out of that lab. If she's associating with Hodges enough to call him Dave, that's just not good. Someone needs to tell Nick."
"I am not getting involved in that," Warrick countered.
"So now what?" Greg asked, shrugging it off for the time.
"We call Brass, see if he's got any idea who the latest victim is yet. Then head down to Doc Robbins place, check out the body. See what he found."
Greg nodded, but his attention was drawn off on seeing Sara in the all purpose room.
"Can you give me a minute first?" he asked, indicating the room with a slight nod of his head.
"Sure man, go ahead," Warrick said, "I'll get a hold of Brass then come find you."
"Cool, thanks," Greg replied turning to go.
Sara looked up with a smile. She and Nick had started reviewing the clothes of the latest victim.
"Got a minute?" he asked.
She stopped smiling upon hearing his tone. He sounded nervous. Nick was doing his best not to hear any of it; he recognized the tone as well.
"Sure," she said stepping back from the table and removing her gloves, "Grissom said we weren't leaving for another few minutes."
"Good," Greg said stepping out into the hallway, Sara just on his heels.
Greg ducked into the nearest empty conference room, holding the door for her, and then shutting them both inside.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Um," he started, leaning into the nearest table and letting out a sharp breath, "I've got an appointment tomorrow."
Sara said nothing and continued to wait.
"I need to get my tap done."
Sara nodded and then stopped. It dawned on her.
"You were supposed to do that last month."
"Yeah I was."
"So why haven't you?" she asked and for the second time in a night someone was angry with him. Really angry.
"I…"
"You didn't forget. I forgot. You're avoiding it."
Greg was startled. He didn't think Sara could read him that quick. Obviously he looked a lot guiltier then he'd assumed.
"Yeah I have."
"Greg…"
"I've already gotten the lecture, okay? Dr. Tracey called Grissom and he pretty much threatened to drag me down there if I didn't go. Actually, that's exactly what he threatened. I'm going, okay?"
Sara turned away, really and truly angrier then she could remember being in a long time. Greg didn't seem to be taking this seriously. His health. His life.
"Sara," he said near pleading.
"You know how serious this is," she said still looking away, "Why would you mess around with this?"
"I don't…"
Greg stopped talking at the look she gave him. Stopped cold.
"Don't say you don't know," she nearly whispered.
He looked down and rubbed the back of his head as the silence stretched out between them.
"I was scared," he said evenly. "I'm still scared."
Sara moved closer now, resting a hand on his arm.
"I should have gone but I'm… I don't know. The last time I felt this bad I had leukemia. I know the test isn't going to give it to me, but it kind of feels like that."
"You're tired. Overworked. We all are. Greg, it's going to be fine, but you can't just ignore it."
Sara tried coaxing a smile out of him, rubbing his arm, but it wasn't working so she moved closer.
"It's going to be fine," she said again.
They locked eyes and he finally gave her a small smile. Sara leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Greg responded by pulling her closer, wrapping both arms around her waist temporarily forgetting where he was. Sara ran her hands up his neck and into his hair effectively deepening the kiss. It had been a very long time since they'd been this close.
"My bad," they heard from behind. Neither had noticed the door open.
Sara stepped back, blushing. Greg pushed his lips together tightly, looking past Sara to Warrick.
"I'll be right there," Greg stammered.
He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed. Hell, Sara and he were getting married. It wasn't a secret. But still, they didn't usually do this sort of thing at work.
Warrick told him not to hurry and shut the door again. Sara and Greg both laughed for a second before she grew serious again.
"What time is the appointment?"
"Eight," Greg answered.
"Good," she said opening the door to go, "We'll leave at seven."
