DISCLAIMER:Don't Own it. No Money Made... Just for fun and enjoyment.
A/N: Just in case you were worried that I would spend the whole story torturing poor Sara... Here's another bone. :D
REVIEWS: Thanks to all who have reviewed.
Chapter 34
Their ride to the crime scene was uneventful, even if it had been filled with stress and apprehension for his passenger. Grissom watched as Sara straightened her hair and applied a small amount of makeup.
He was mesmerized by the process of human female preening. He understood all the inner workings of the process in the entire insect kingdom, but the mysteries of his own species eluded him. Of course, the fact that he had never been privy to it in his lifetime may have had some influence on his ignorance. His mother had always "freshened up" away from prying eyes in her bathroom. Grissom had never been in any other relationship long enough, or serious enough to ever offer him that glimpse into the female realm.
It also struck him as odd, that in all of his relationships, the women would have been considered "high maintenance" by most standards, but in his friendships (which he considered to be far closer in nature than any romantic interest he had ever held), all of the women possessed a striking natural beauty, without all the trappings of manufactured femininity. As he watched Sara apply the modest amount of makeup, he realized that it did not change her beauty, but only made it more obvious to the untrained eye. But my eye is well trained to her beauty.
That last thought caused Grissom to look away from his observations. He was still trying to work out in his head just how he was going to approach Sara with his newfound resolutions. But he was certain, if he did nothing, all would be lost, so he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Stephanie and her mother had invited him to a party Friday night to celebrate her impending nuptials. Grissom thought that perhaps he could invite Sara to join him for the party, but then he remembered about their altercation in the morgue and continued to search his arsenal for an appropriate and neutral territory to enter into with her for this revelation of his.
Unable to contain himself, Grissom glanced back over in her direction, but she was now entranced in the case file. Leave it to Sara to find comfort in a case file.
Before long, they were pulling up in front of the Palms, and Grissom was forced to retreat into his work persona once more. They were soon caught up in the swirl of attention this incident created in the media. And Grissom marveled at Sara's grace under pressure as the Sheriff pulled her into an impromptu press conference, with Sara standing by his side and Grissom just behind them both. From his vantage point, he observed that she was calm, cool and collected during the entire ordeal, on the surface. Underneath, he imagined she felt like a rabbit at a greyhound farm, but he had to give her credit for not letting the Sheriff (or the press) witness that aspect of her personality.
When they walked away from the chaos out in front of the casino, across the lobby and into the elevators, he marveled as she retained her composure throughout the entire mess. It was not until the doors to the elevator had closed that he got even the slightest indication she was not an old pro at press conferences. When he looked back at her, she had slumped against the rail of the elevator and was holding her forehead in her hand, as her breath became a little ragged with the expulsion of the stress with each successive breath. But it was all gone in an instant when she felt the elevator come to a slow stop, as she took in a deep breath and her tough as nails exterior was snapped right back into place.
As the doors opened up, they found Jim Brass waiting for them, "Nice of you to join us." The smirk on his face told them he was only joking, "So, as I'm sure you've heard, this is a high profile case." His words were practically dripping with sarcasm, and Grissom had to suppress the smirk that was forming at the corner of his mouth.
"The twenty cameras shoved in my face were a pretty good indication." That was Sara, always quick with the sarcasm to throw back at Brass. "So, what kind of mess are we looking at, Brass?"
"Of the first order, of course." He winked at Sara, and she smiled through one corner of her mouth, "Look, the only suspect we have, so far, works security here at the Palms. So, I'm sure you know what we're dealin' with here; a whole lot of nothin'"
Sara exhaled sharply, "Well, what do we know about the vic… A Shondra Levinsky?"
Brass pulled out his notebook and rattled off the details found there, "Niece of one Ira Levinsky, gambling commissioner. Grad student at UNLV, studying sociology. Very bright, but has a penchant for the bad boys. Enter Miles Waggoner, security here at the Palms. Past history of trouble with the law, but all of it looks like youthful offender type stuff."
Sara interrupted, "Boys will be boys?"
"Possibly, but the guy has some serious connections himself, because it looks like most of the juvenile record is under a protective seal. I'll see what I can do to break that one." Brass looked from Sara to Grissom with a questioning look, and Grissom instantly knew what he was about to say, "So, did the bugs finally eat his tongue, or is there some other reason you're asking all the questions?"
Grissom smirked a little before answering, "Don't look at me… I'm just here for the dog and pony show, under orders. Sara is your ace tonight."
Brass seemed satisfied with the answer and he continued their briefing, "I've got the suspect on his way to interrogation, under double guard. And they are under strict orders not to let him do so much as breathe in the wrong direction. I also ordered them to pull a UA from the guy. I figured you guys would want to beat him to the punch on a diminished capacity defense."
"Your time in CSI must have paid off, Brass." Sara winked at him as they walked up to the door of the suite where the crime took place. "So, is there anything else I need to know before going in here?"
"Just that it probably won't take you long to process… The place is oddly clean for a dead girl to have been found there." Brass shrugged it off as best he could.
Grissom just had to add his own little twist to the conversation, "Gives new meaning to the slogan, 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.'" Sara chuckled and shook her head. Only Grissom could get away with such a corny line and still make her laugh.
