Sara was not having a good day. The day had started out with great promise; her hair was behaving itself, doing its bouncy shampoo commercial best. She was wearing a pretty new blouse; a lilac shade the salesclerk had sworn set off the "mahogany highlights" in her hair. She was doubtful about the highlights but she felt fairly chic and pulled together. She felt ready to tackle whatever crime Vegas saw fit to throw her way.

Then she got stuck in traffic. And the air conditioner seemed to be broken, that could be the only explanation for the feeble stream of tepid air her car saw fit to produce. Sara sighed and blew a few limp strands off of her forehead. Bye-bye good hair day—hello frizz city…

She drummed her fingers impatiently on the wheel. If the traffic didn't get moving soon, she'd be late. She couldn't see what was causing the problem. She punched on the radio.

unconfirmed reports of an unusual viral outbreak in parts of the Northwestern United States. So far, details are vague but it appears to be localized to remote areas. Officials are investigating. And that's the news. Stay tuned for Crazy Dave and the Top 40 Power Countdown on KJRT. Vegas' Number One—

Sara growled and switched to the CD player. Crazy Dave and the Top 40 can bite me. There's never a traffic report when you need one.

Finally the traffic started to move, and with some fairly aggressive driving and a few ballsy lane changes Sara was able to pull into the parking lot only a few minutes late.


She did her ninja best to just sort of "appear" in the lab, but of course today would be the day Grissom would be on a walkabout. He caught her in the hall and stared rather blatantly at her new blouse.

Damn. I might have to shop at that store again…

"You have something." Grissom pointed to her blouse.

Sara looked down. A large black stain had spread in a rather suggestive fashion, like a Rorschach blot, over her left breast. Sara gasped and snatched her pen out of the pocket; gooey black ink smeared her fingers.

"Shit!" She snarled and pitched the pen into the nearest trash basket.

"Ever consider a pocket protector?" Gil cocked his head at her.

"Grissom. This was a new blouse. A very expensive, raw silk blouse. You don't wear pocket protectors with a blouse like that."

"If you had, you'd still have a very expensive unstained raw silk blouse wouldn't you?" Grissom turned and walked away calling over his shoulder. "You're late, Sophia and Greg are already here."

Sara prayed for strength. Please God, don't let me kill anyone today…especially know-it-all entomologists.


Sara followed Grissom into his office. Greg and Sophia were sitting by his desk, there were no chairs left for her. She noticed with a stab of irritation Sophia had taken the chair closest to Grissom. The chair Sara herself, usually sat in. Of course. What else do you have on board for me today, life? Maybe a nice juicy zit? Toilet paper on the shoe? Or a rain of toads perhaps?

"You've got black on you—" Greg pointed.

"I know!" Sara snapped.

"O-kay then." Greg rolled his eyes at Sophia only increasing Sara's irritation.

"Alright…" Grissom sat on the edge of his desk and handed out the night's assignments. "Sara and Greg I need you to drive out to Blue Diamond to relieve Nick, he's on scene there but Cath' told me she needs him back here so you'll have to take over."

"That's like 45 minutes away Griss'." As soon as the words were out of her mouth Sara wished she could take them back, she sounded cranky. No, more than just cranky—bitchy.

"I am aware of how far away it is Sara." Grissom stared coolly at her. "So I suggest you and Greg get moving. Sophia you're with me."

Don't say anything…you're already in dutch with him. Just leave it alone… But her mouth was already opening.

"Why is she—"

Grissom looked at her, exasperation written all over his face. Greg jumped up and grabbed her arm.

"C'mon. I'll buy you a coffee at Starbucks if you leave right now without another word." He muttered in her ear.

Sara bit her tongue and left.


"What is with you? Are you looking to get fired?" Greg hustled her down the hall to the parking lot.

"No. It's just—" Sara hated feeling this way. She knew she was being stupid and mulish. Didn't seem to stop her mouth any though. "Hey, can I at least change my shirt?"

"No. I want to get you out of here before you bite the head off anyone else."

"I wasn't going to—"

"Did you ever wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, what are you on the rag?"

"What? You don't ask stuff like that, you asshole."

"See, I told you were going to bite someone's head off. Good thing we're pals Sara and deep down I know you love me." Greg grinned and held open the door to the parking lot for her.

Sara glared at him and stalked through the door.