Title: Bright Lights; Dig City Author: Jayke Manners

Category: Drama / Angst

Spoilers: Only received up to end Season 4 in Aussie – so pretty much anything up to there…

Disclaimer: Not mine. Am I the only one who needs a drink after writing this sht?

Summary: Casefile / Angst / GS

Okey dokey, I think we are back on track. It is getting very hard to tread the fine fan-fiction line… The scriptwriter is yelling, "No! Out of Character, BAD girl, very BAD GIRL!" But the fanficcy in me is sayin', "You know what? Bugger off!" A little bit o case-file to start, but Brain, Pook – it's getting ANGSTY in here! Flash, you're a doll. Miss-Andro, God love ya – keep it comin, the reviews and the fics – hope I've done ok here…

Oh by the way, this is short n sweet, but things are gonna get longer and nastier, just a warnin'

TWENTY THREE

Catherine leaned forward in her chair, gaze penetrating into the troubled eyes of Tony Flanders. She had already laid the first of the photographs in front of him, one of the nice 'before' shots, and if he didn't spill whatever the hell it was he knew, she was going to show him an after that would make his lunch reappear in a manner no one would find attractive.

"Come on Tony," she said. "You're not a liar. You're not a killer either. Help us out here."

Tony twitched and rubbed at the redness in his eyes.

"Let me guess," Catherine continued, "having trouble sleeping?" She looked at the papers in front of her. "Your grades have slipped… finding it difficult to concentrate? Tony?"

"Look, I've been through this already man." Tony looked as exhausted as she felt. "Last year, when Jessie disappeared, you guys were all over me, askin questions, takin prints and stickin things in my mouth and shit. I'm telling you, I. Didn't. Do. Anything. I don't know what else you want me to tell you."

Catherine looked at Brass who tilted his head as if to say, 'He doesn't. We've been here before. Dead end.' But, ever the detective, he kept on.. "Look, we know this hasn't been a walk in the park for you, ok? But you gotta understand, you're in the middle of this thing whether you like it or not. You were the last person to see Jessica alive."

The downward glance was so small that anyone else might have easily missed it, but Catherine locked on like a pit-bull. "Tony? You were the last person to see Jessica alive?"

He glanced at her, then at Brass, eyes flicking between them like a deer in the headlights. When he spoke, it was not convincing. "Yeah, I told you that."

Catherine softened, concern filling her eyes. "Tony, if you know someone else saw Jessica that night…"

"Naw man," he was too quick to answer. "You don't know nothing. Like I told you, we were here at school. Left around five, I went to The Alley and she said she was goin' home. Last I saw her she was walkin' to the bus stop."

Brass prodded, "But she never made it to the bus Tony."

Again, his eyes cast downward. "I should've drove her."

Catherine leaned forward, "Tony, it's not your fault."

He shrugged and for the first time, Catherine really did start to feel sorry for him. He was just a kid after all, and a pretty dumb one, but no one deserved this kind of burden. "Tony? Is there anything you can tell me that might help us? Anything at all?"

"Naw." He shook his head, "I told you everything. After I left her, she just disappeared. But I swear I walked away, ask Mr Corbett, he saw me leavin."

Brass was the one to lean forward this time, "Mr Corbett?"

"Yeah, teaches science. I told you last time. He and a couple others saw me goin."

"Who were the others?" asked Catherine.

The shoulders shrugged again. "Dunno."

"But you remember Mr Corbett?"

Tony looked up and Catherine knew he was trying to tell her something, but she wasn't sure if even he knew what it was. "Yeah," he answered, "I remember him."

TWENTY FOUR

Sara sat in the break room, staring into space, thinking how empty the place felt with everyone out in the field, or in the DNA lab, or in Lab Three working on her case. She smiled slightly, her case. What a joke. After last night, she'd be lucky to ever get on a case again. She couldn't help but think, as she completed the last of the filing, the reason Grissom left her to catch it up was to allow her time to complete it all, before she was given her marching orders.

What the hell had she been thinking? She rubbed at the hairline behind her ear, a nervous habit she had picked up since… Oh God what the hell had she been thinking?

The memory of crashing out in the lab haunted her like a very, very bad dream. The fact Grissom hadn't mentioned it earlier was a relief at the time, but now she was constantly followed by the dark cloud of her conscience. Admittedly, she hadn't actually been on the job, having received what basically amounted to a suspension, but still – never before had she crossed that line. Drinking? At work? Regardless of how many she'd downed before crashing into bed, or onto the couch, or onto the bathroom floor – she'd always been spot on before the job started. That was as much a part of who she was as anything else, more than anything else – her work came before her life. Damn it, her work was her life.

'Well not this time honey.' The little voice inside her head was spiteful. 'This time you've really blown it. Why are you even waiting around? Go home. Stay there. You think they want to see you like this? You think he wants to see you like this? He wasn't much of a fan when you were all joy and light, how much do you think he'll care now that you've turned into this?'

Sara wasn't even sure who 'this' was. She could remember a time when she used to look at women falling for the wrong kind of man and shake her head in amazement. She could remember a time when she'd walk down the street at night feeling invincible, almost daring a mugger to come anywhere near her. She remembered falling into bed with a smile on her face, just thinking of the day passed and the days yet to come. She remembered sleeping without screaming. It all seemed a foggy memory now, like looking back at the innocence of childhood before the reality of the world had a chance to interrupt those curious dreams. There used to be a Santa Clause…

A dim memory of Grissom's hand on her hair, the feel of his weight beside her on the sofa... "Oh God, Sara." She hadn't dared open her eyes, knowing it wasn't real and grateful for sleep that didn't have her crying out for him to help her as the grip tightened around her throat, that didn't involve a hand pushing against her face, the sound of the bones around her eye cracking beneath the pressure. Just a dream Sidle, just a dream. Well it might not be real, but it was all she had. So Sara kept her eyes closed, her last conscious thought that of peace, before she sank once again into the dark sea, struggling for breath.

She pulled at the cuff on the jacket she hadn't taken off since waking to find it tucked snugly around her shoulders. Whether it had been given out of pity or as a warning, she didn't know. Either way… But having the jacket on seemed to be her only reminder of reality, the only thing that kept her feet on the ground and stopped her reaching for the bleach bottle instead of the Jack Daniels.

That final thought jolted her out of her trance and onto her feet. When the hell did that image spring to mind? Sara moved to pour herself another coffee, hoping the caffeine might offer some support to her rational, coherent thoughts. The ones that used to dictate her life. There was a mutiny afoot.

The little voice inside her head was now laughing. Sara's brow creased as the hot liquid burned down her throat.

She was not a healthy girl.

TWENTY FIVE

Oh, how quickly things can change. Only a few hours ago, Grissom had entered the school, a sense of desperation trickling through his veins. But now… now he was moments away from stepping into an interview room with none other than Mr Roger Corbett, aka the Desert Baby serial killer. Grissom could feel it to his very core, this was their guy.

Grissom had watched the detention from a distance, quite willing to admit he could not predict his actions were he to move any closer. His exterior was calm, methodical – but inside – a thunderstorm was raging. Mr Corbett had appeared confused, stuttering his bewilderment as he was escorted from the biology class. He had protested all the way to the transport unit, at the same time reassuring his gaping students that there was nothing to worry about, go on back to class. This was all a big mistake. But as he neared Catherine and Grissom, his expression changed, not so as many would notice, but enough make Grissom's eyes narrow with suspicion. Because it was something Grissom could not explain.

Mr Roger Corbett recognised him.

TWENTY SIX

Sara paced the room, every so often pausing to glance out the doorway into the hall. Her hand rubbed behind her ear, eyes darting anxiously from the door to the clock and back. God love Nick – he'd come to her the moment Warrick called him with the news. He knew she wasn't meant to be there, that Lab Three was off limits, but he'd come anyway, knowing where to find her.

They had him, he was on the way. This was the guy.

Her mind wracked over the evidence; the hairs, fibres, stolen cars, even the mould residue… none of it was close to enough. Nicky had located two more stolen vehicles, but they again led to a dead end. Greg had linked the mould to at least six of the planted samples, but that didn't tie the samples to the killer. So, now they had an eye witness, but to what? Nothing, nothing that would hold up in court. But Grissom said he was sure…

How the hell were they going to get this guy on the evidence, when that was their weakest link? A backbone made of paper-thin glass, how could they expect to fight and be the last one standing? What was Grissom thinking, bringing this guy in so soon? She wasn't ready.

Sara forced herself to stand still, pulling her arms around her waist and clenching her hands into the cold flesh of her ribs.

She looked around her, at the eyes that followed her every move, "It's ok girls," she whispered. "I'll think of something. We'll get him." Her voice floated into the darkness, "We'll get him."