Life and Death
2:10 p.m.
Lindsey's eyes fell to the floor and she saw it. Sara's gun, big, black and powerful. Madison was standing there, knife still in hand and Sara was trying to stand up, but to no avail. Lindsey looked from the pale and shaking Sara, to the terrifying visage of Madison Daniels. Her eyes cut once more to the gun. It was lying on the blood smudged concrete, calling to her. She reached for it, her fingers stretching for the cold steel of the gun. When her shaking hand found the prize it sought, Madison noticed. "What are you doing?" Lindsey swung the gun around, aiming over Sara's lolling head, dead center at Madison Daniel's chest.
"Don't come any closer." Madison scowled, "Put that down!" Her voice, slightly panicked, echoed eerily off the wall. "NOW, Lindsey!" She took a step forward, the knife in her hand was twitching as if Madison could not decide if she wanted to stab or slash. Neither option was good.
Sara, her voice barely audible and her grip weak, took a hold of Lindsey's arm. "Run." Madison snapped her head and bared her teeth at Sara. "Why don't you just fucking die!" Her arm came down in a wicked arc, aiming the knife at Sara's chest.
Lindsey squeezed the trigger. The pistol bucked in her hands and she almost dropped it, but she held tight. The gun shot was loud, louder then the television and movies made it out to be.
Madison had lurched to a stop, her knife fell from her hand mid-swing and clanged against the floor. A blossom of red covered her starched white shirt. Her eyes went wide, as if she didn't believe that she could bleed. She wheezed and one of her hands reached out, as if to strike at Lindsey.
She pulled the trigger again and again and again. The woman fell to the floor and Lindsey kept pulling the trigger. Tears fell down her face and she was screaming, but she kept pulling the trigger.
The world was on mute. Sara knew that her gun had been fired, she could smell the gunpowder, but her ears just weren't registering the sound of the gunfire or Lindsey's screams. She saw Madison fall, blood coming from the gaping holes in her chest and trickling out of her mouth. Her eyes, the perfect blue orbs that held a malevolence that Sara had actually feared, were wide but empty. The woman collapsed on the floor, face down and was dead. Madison's blood crept across the floor and mixed with Sara's own split blood. Sara felt dirty by association. She could hear the gun clicking, Lindsey had emptied the clip. Sara wanted to grab her and protect her. She wanted to take the gun into her own hands and wipe Lindsey's fingerprints off of it and replace them with their own. She wanted to offer words of comfort. She could do nothing, because gray was beginning to turn to black and Sara Sidle knew that she was about to die.
Author's Note: You can't keep a Willows woman down. Oh the reprecussions of this...aren't we all glad that a talented and rather beutiful (if she doesn't say so herself) psychologist is on stand-by? What? You thought I forgot about Cambridge, didn't you? Oh yes, and there's the whole Sara-on-the-brink-of-death thing too.
I just watched Slaves of Vegas. Every time I see that episode it makes me wonder what the writers and the 60 of the fanbase sees in the whole Grissom and Sara thing. GSR versus Grissom/Lady Heather. Um the dominatrix wins every time, people.