Writing on a Blank Slate
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.
Rating: M for later content (please note that this is a precautionary measure: I don't plan on getting too carried away!)
Chapter 9: "You didn't inherit your brains from your father."
"Hey Nick?" Almost a week had passed since their kiss, and they were now driving east across Canada, having realized that the Ford probably couldn't handle a trip to the North Pole.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think it's possible for someone to be genetically criminal?"
Her tone was light, but the question had come out of the blue, and that was enough to put Nick on his guard. In spite of the new level of intimacy between them he still had the feeling that she was holding something back – heck, he thought she was holding a lot back – and he wondered if this line of questioning might shed some light on the dark regions of her past.
He stole a quick glance at her, noting the set expression on her face and the way her hands clasped the wheel far more tightly than was necessary. Yes, something was definitely up.
He shrugged, trying to be casual.
"I guess that depends on the type of criminal you're talking about," he told her. "I mean, an out and out psychopath, yeah, I think there has to be something pretty fundamentally wrong there, but as for the rest, well, I don't see how there can be."
"So you don't think having a criminal for a parent might predispose someone towards committing a criminal act themselves?"
Again, he phrased his answer carefully, grateful that theirs had been a line of work that inevitably raised questions like these. It wasn't as though he had never thought about the subject before.
"I guess in a way it might," he admitted, and saw her shoulders twitch slightly. "But it's the whole nature/nurture thing, isn't it? It's not genetics that makes the child of a criminal into a criminal, it's growing up in an environment where crime is considered normal."
He paused, then drew a deep breath.
"What's this about, Sara?" he asked gently.
She gave a wry smile, her eyes still fixed on the road.
"Am I really that transparent?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid so."
She sighed. "Okay. You remember how I told you that my parent's B&B burned down?"
She glanced at him, and he nodded.
"Well, it wasn't an accident. They were in financial trouble, so my dad decided to burn it down for the insurance money." She gave a brief snort of bitter laughter. "Didn't take the insurance company long to figure out what had happened, so we never got any money. And dad ended up in prison for a while."
She glanced at Nick, and was surprised to see he was smiling slightly.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
He looked at her and grinned.
"If you ask me, the only thing that proves is you didn't inherit your brains from your father."
She thought about that for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"You know, I never thought of it that way before."