Chapter V
Stripped
Sara poked her head into the lay out room where everyone else was standing. "Hey, I just got the reports on... they're...guys?" Evidence in the form of pornography was spread all over the table. She cocked her head to the side, trying to get a look at the dates of the magazines. A bead of cold sweat slid down her back, sending goosebumps all over her body. "Guys did Greg's locker explode?" Her attempt at humor fell flat. Grissom turned to face her and she saw what everyone was looking at. In his gloved hands was a magazine she thought she'd never see again. That she'd prayed she'd never see again...that they shouldn't be seeing...that they couldn't be seeing. "Oh God." Nick looked at her. "Sara?" She wished she had an explanation, an excuse, a twin, even. She did not. That was her, in all of her glory, sans clothes, sans inhibitions. The lab went silent, the tension was so thick, it was becoming hard to breathe.
Everyone was staring at her. She didn't blame them. There she was, naked on a page...and standing here. "Um."
Gil Grissom stared at her. His blue eyes bored strait into her brown ones. "Would you like...Can you explain...What is the meaning..." It would have been funny, seeing the completely controlled Etymologist stuttering and staring at her with a gaping mouth...but the situation made it less funny and more gut-wrenching.
Nick stood, looking at her. "Sara?" She looked at them, all of them. She didn't know what to do. She could feel the beginnings of a panic attack growing in her chest. Her lungs seized up, she couldn't breathe. She felt her knees go weak. She grabbed the edge of the door for support. "I...I..." She couldn't face them. "I've gotta go." She unceremoniously turned on her heel and fled the Crime Lab...at top speed.
Catherine Willows stood there. She was still trying to absorb what had just happened. Sara had stood there, pale and her big brown eyes wide...to use a cliché, she looked exactly like a deer in the head lights. Her blue eyes followed the younger woman out of the room. She glanced back at the magazine in Grissom's hands. Sara Sidle, the enigma of the Vegas Crime Lab...a porn star...a victim... Catherine looked at the still shell-shocked Gilbert Grissom. "Well?" Grissom blinked, but said nothing.