Foretold by SLynn

Summary: A woman walks into the crime lab only to tell Greg Sanders about her murder, a murder he's going to solve. Is she just playing games or is it something more?

Spoilers: Through 'Gum Drops'

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

"This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper"
T.S. Eliot 'The Hollow Men'

Chapter 25: Hollow

After leaving Harper's office, Greg had gone straight home and crashed. He hadn't realized how tired he was until then. He'd probably have slept until shift change if it hadn't been for Anne.

She'd called again, four times, each call louder and more confrontational than the last.

After the last call he couldn't get back to sleep, and seeing it was late enough in the day, called Sara instead.

"Hello," she answered sounding very much awake.

"I was thinking I should have a pet name for you."

"Oh no," Sara giggled.

"Yes," he implored, "I should. I should call you something like sweetie or snookums…"

"No," she managed in-between laughs, "no."

"Why not?"

"Because," she argued, "that's not how you do it. You just don't assign names like that."

"So I should just start calling you babe or something? I've never quite understood how that works."

Sara continued to laugh and it was like music.

"I love your laugh," he said before he could quite stop himself.

Sara cleared her throat in the fashion he'd become used too. The one that implied she was blushing.

"So," she began, "how'd it go today?"

"Alright, but I don't want to talk about work."

"Okay," she replied, "what then?"

"Let's go out. Let me come by and we'll go somewhere together. Out to eat or to a movie. I don't care where, I just want to see you."

"Yeah, I want to see you too."

"Can I come over?"

"Of course," she laughed. "Greg, you don't have to ask."

"I'll see you soon then."

"I'll be waiting."

"There they are," Warrick said with a smirk as Sara and Greg came into the break room.

Nick just looked over at them and tapped his watch, also smirking.

"Sorry," Greg returned. "Traffic was…"

"Yeah, yeah," Nick interrupted. "Traffic. Sure."

"It's only a few minutes," Sara shot back. "Besides, where's Grissom?"

"Not here yet," Warrick answered.

"So we're not late," she said in return, sitting down at the table.

"Get anything out of Harper?" Warrick asked.

"Grief," Greg answered. "He just wants this case closed. He's not interested in actually solving it."

"Probably thinks he'll get out of cold cases if it happens," Nick added. "It would look good for him; might even get one last promotion before he retires."

"Makes it sound like he's selling his soul," Greg said.

"Well…" Nick started, but stopped as Grissom arrived.

"I'm going to make this short," Grissom said even before he'd gotten through the door. "Warrick, you and I are taking a multi-car accident on the North end of town. Catherine will meet us there. Sara and Greg, there's a DB in an abandoned house off the strip. Police are waiting for you to pass the scene. Nick, you're meeting Sofia at the Hilton for a possible armed robbery. Everyone clear?"

They all nodded as he handed out the call slips.

"Good," Grissom finished. "Let's go."

"I never know what I'm looking for with these calls."

Sara looked over at Greg and smiled.

"You're looking for evidence."

"I know that," he returned as he swept the room with his flashlight, "but of what? This guy probably dropped dead of old age and his buddies called it in."

Sara shrugged, she couldn't argue it.

"I mean," he went on, "I know why they call, they want a decent burial and yeah, I understand. But why do we have to investigate it?"

"Because," Sara said, leaning closer to the body, "of this. Come here."

Greg crossed the room and stood behind her.

"What's that?" she asked, indicating the man's eyes with her flashlight.

"A rookie question," he shot back. "Petechiae hemorrhaging. You can get those if cough hard enough, long enough. He could have had pneumonia."

"Or he could have been strangled."

Greg nodded, before looking once more around the room.

"What's keeping David?" he asked.

"Why," she returned, "got a date?"

He laughed and moved across the room.

"Interested?"

They were interrupted by a short tap on the door followed by the officer on scene's entrance.

"Hey, Sara. We got a call about that pile up on the interstate. They need us there. You two going to be alright?"

"Yeah, sure. We got it. We're just waiting on the coroner."

"It might be awhile," the officer returned. "Count is up to twelve from that accident."

Sara shook her head in understanding as the man said goodbye.

"It's going to be a long night, isn't it?" Greg asked.

"Yes it is," Sara echoed. "We might as well take a look around. Get comfortable."

"Comfortable? This is a shack."

Sara laughed, but he was right.

"But you know what's weird," Greg continued. "It doesn't look lived in."

"Well, like you said, it's a shack."

"I know that," Greg said, "but that body we got last week, Nick and I, you could tell the guy lived there. This place is a palace in comparison. No trash. No waste. No… nothing."

Sara frowned as she took it in as well.

There was little to no furniture, as if the house had only been abandoned recently. The house opened to two rooms, what would be a dining room on the right where the body was found and a living room to the left. The dining room was empty except for their victim and a few empty boxes, but the living room still had a couch, buffet table and a few other odds and ins. There was a staircase between the two rooms, with the kitchen in the back of the house.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"You're right. I don't think he lived here. Or if he did, he just moved in."

Greg nodded as he looked around, finally stopping on the patio door.

"It's open," he said walking over to it. "Should I print it?"

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "Something about this feels off. Lift what you can, I'm going to go check out the kitchen."

"Okay," Greg answered, prodding the door open with his foot as he prepared to get to work.

Printing was time consuming, Greg having only just become truly proficient. Halfway into the process, his phone rang.

Setting his things down as neatly as he could back in place he answered it before checking the ID and instantly regretted it.

"Anne," he said at the first given opportunity, "Anne. I'm at work. I can't talk now."

But she wouldn't let up; she just kept going on as loud and as angry as ever.

"I know I answered, but I have to answer my phone. It's my job."

Greg listened to her rant on for another few minutes before getting another chance to say anything.

"We'll talk later, alright?"

It wasn't alright. Anne was really on a roll. Greg knew he should just give in and give her the Bible, the coin collection, whatever she wanted. It was either that or endure a lifetime of calls like this.

"Anne…"

Greg sighed and shook his head.

"Anne…"

A loud noise caught his attention coming from the back of the house.

"I've got to go," he said quickly, not waiting for an answer just hanging up and putting the phone down on the buffet.

Greg took a few tentative steps forward, not sure if he'd really heard the sound or imagined it. The house was so quiet now, it didn't seem like it had happened.

But he heard it again.

It wasn't as loud this time, but it wasn't normal.

And it couldn't be good.

Greg took a few steps forward before finally speaking.

"Sara?"