Author Notes: Uhm, this was a challenge over at the EFN forums. Criteria included the words pencil and grapes, as well as the line She/He tossed the plate shard back onto the floor and looked expectantly at the younger man. I'm also not sure if I'm ever going to continue this, so treat it as a one shot. I am planning on continuing it when the next challenge is up (which could be awhile), however, I may not be able to. So, please don't bug me about continuing it, if you wish it to be continued. Thanks.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. CBS, Mr. Jerry B, and Mr. Anthony Z. own all characters and the shows writers own the scripts. No money is being made of this. Only my ideas are mine and are not used with the idea of harming/offending anyone.
Summary: Greg and Sara get called to the scene of yet another crime.
Rating: K+ I do believe.
Spoilers: Season five, so if you haven't seen it, then please don't read it.
She tossed the plate shard back onto the floor and looked expectantly at the younger man. His eyes glanced up, full of tears, pain, and fear. She couldn't help the smile that spread upon her face, the blood surrounding the man and making a beautiful piece of artwork. Her beautiful piece of artwork. They would take pictures, slowly unravel the mystery of why she had made cuts bleed, why God had made cuts bleed.
Taking one last look at the man who lay before her, she turned on her heel and wandered out the front door, the bright light hitting her pale face. Neighbours glanced over, but never said anything, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. They happily returned to mowing their lawn or planting their flowers. The woman's smile just grew even larger as she walked down the sidewalk, away from everyone.
"We got a case, Greg," Sara called into the break room as she passed. Startled, Greg choked on the grape he had been trying to eat. Warrick and Nick, back on the nightshift, turned their heads to look with one swift motion. Greg tried to laugh at the way they moved as one, but ended up choking even more, that damned grape still stuck in his throat. Finally, after trying to give himself the Heimlich manoeuvre, the grape shot out of his mouth and across the room.
"Thank you for helping," he said weakly to the two men. Greg heard Nick mutter something about Greg coughing, and therefore not choking, but Greg chose to ignore him and swiftly left the room in search of Sara. He found her standing beside her car in the parking lot, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He already knew the question that she was going to ask.
"I choked on a grape, so I had to give myself the Heimlich." Her other eyebrow rose to sit beside the first one. Shaking her head after a moment, she unlocked the doors, allowing the two get in and head off towards the crime scene. Greg had never liked driving with Sara, mostly because she always had some crazy gospel guy talking in a monotone voice on the radio. He itched to turn it off, but had found out the hard way during their first case together that you don't touch Sara's radio. She said that when he drove, he could listen to whatever he wanted, but she never let him drive, so it was a lose-lose situation.
They eventually came upon a street full of houses that looked similar, but all had one tiny thing different to set them apart. Slowing down to a respectable speed, Sara inched the car along the winding their way through spookily illuminated houses, until they reached the flashing blue and red lights. She pulled the car to a stop, and once Greg got the look, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the vehicle. It was his responsibility to get their cases out of the trunk, so he made his way to the back. He heard Sara get out of the SUV as he lifted up the door and stared in slight surprise. Holding back a bark of laughter, he quickly grabbed the two kits, slammed the trunk shut, and headed over to Sara, who was standing patiently by the driver door.
"May I ask why you have a colony of pencils in your trunk," Greg asked as he handed over Sara's case and the two started walking towards Brass. Sara frowned and shrugged. This time he didn't hold in his laughter, which was cut off quickly as he got smacked with the silver kit.
"It's for emergencies," she responded in a stuffy manner, trying to speed up her walk in order to avoid Greg's questions, but he had longer legs and was able to keep up without much trouble.
"What kind of emergencies? In case the world runs out of pencils and you must breed more to save the human race?" That remark earned him another smack, this time harder, and he was pretty sure it was going to be tinged a brownish colour in the morning.
"It's in case I have to stab annoying partners." Greg stuck his tongue out at her just as they reached Brass, who raised his eyebrows in a very Sara-like manner. That then caused Greg to have the image of Brass dressing up like Sara, and he started to choke for the second time that night, this time from trying not to laugh.
"He's gotten even more annoying as time goes by," commented Brass before turning his attention to his notebook. "White male, in his late twenties. We don't have a positive I.D. but according to some neighbours," It was the first time Greg had noticed the group of people milling around the yellow crime tape. "a Mrs. Jacobs lives here, so we're presuming it's Mr. Jacobs. A couple of neighbours say they saw the woman leave a couple of days ago, but never returned. That's about all the information we've been able to collect." Sara nodded, glancing up at the house.
"Can we start?" she asked, switching her gaze back to Brass. He nodded, stepping back to allow the two up the walkway. Brass stayed behind as one of the newer officers came up to him, obviously excited, yet oblivious clueless as what to do. Greg shook his head in pity as he saw a couple of cops a few feet away, laughing at the newbie. They must have told him to ask Brass, who wasn't exactly the nicest to cops, to say the least.
Greg followed Sara through the front door, nodding to the officer who had stepped aside. The inside was pitch black, and Greg immediately reached for his flashlight, sweeping the beam across the floor. Sara had stopped after taking a few steps in, and Greg could feel her eyes taking everything he. He had yet to achieve that ability, his eyes always immediately drawn to the blood and body. However, the beige carpet beneath their feet seem to only have the deep plum stains of blood. Making the light glance over the splotch, he noticed a couple of bloody palm prints and the track marks within the stain. Carefully moving forwards, Greg start to follow in the direction the prints had been heading. He came across another pair, more streaks of blood following, slightly covering over the first pair of prints.
Sara finally seemed to realise what Greg was doing and followed his lead. They came upon a closet which was placed underneath the staircase leading upstairs. Glancing over at Sara, Greg reached over and turned the handle, yanking the door open. They quickly went over the space with their flashlights and came up with an empty space. Greg glanced back at the door knob and saw that it was spotless, telling them that nobody who had blood on their hands had tried to open it. Biting his lip, Greg started to reopen the door when something flashing back at him caught his eye. Turning his flashlight past Sara, a yellow reflective strip off of a pair of running shoes caught the light once again. Startled, Sara quickly spun to find the body of the young man laying face down a few feet behind her, torso on the linoleum kitchen floor, and legs on the living room carpet. Sara and Greg glanced at each other, and Greg sighed, knowing this was going to be a long night.