Disclaimer: The Pact is Jodi Picault's, Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet, and CSI is owned by the rich people in television.


8:27 am

After only five minutes of examining the personal effects of the dead man, Nick and Val had a name and an identity: Joseph Hanwood, 32; electrician from Bismarck, North Dakota; a girlfriend back home. Val checked her watch as Nick resealed the evidence and packed it away.

"How long does it take for a body to get to the morgue in Vegas?" She asked, sounding very much like she was griping.

"It's only been five minutes, Val." Nick reassured her. "Doc Robbins is probably on a break right now, seeing as we're between shifts. When the body of the jumper gets processed, we'll be the first to know."

"He didn't jump." Val said patiently. "He was pushed."

"So you keep telling me." Nick turned back to face her. "Val, it was a suicide. Joe jumped off a building and landed on the pavement. It's an open-and-shut case. What makes you think otherwise?"

"I have my reasons," Val shrugged, her lips dancing like they wanted to break out into a grin. She checked her watch again. "Maybe we should go down to the morgue; I don't like how this is taking so long." She pursed her lips in thought.

"Yeah, okay." Nick raised an eyebrow, wondering at Val's ability to change the subject so quickly. "Or maybe we could just wait for someone to page us."

Val opened her mouth to object, but Nick's beeper went off.

"Well," Val grinned, "Speak of the devil."

Nick checked his pager, and hid a smile. "Funny, I don't remember talking about Grissom."

"What?" Val frowned.

Nick help up his pager. "He wants us to meet in the Break Room."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Nick said, trying and failing not to smile. "Let's go find out."


Women would rather be right than reasonable.
- Ogden Nash, Frailty, Thy Name Is Misnomer
8:45 am.

Sara kept her head held high.

It was stupid of her. She wouldn't do something so stupid ever again. Ever. It was stupid of her. She shouldn't make mistakes like that. She won't make one like that again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But was it her mistake? She took a risk. She was the one who stepped out of her comfort zone to spill her guts to… Sara shook her head, her lips twisting bitterly. She took a risk. That wasn't stupid. What was stupid was Grissom. Stupid Grissom. He could have said something, but no… he had to turn and run away. Stupid Grissom. Grissom never takes risks. He probably never did an impulsive thing in his life. And it's not like… well… they both knew, and Sara had to be the one who finally decided to say it out loud…

Stupid Grissom.

It didn't matter that she'd been having the same argument with herself since she left the lab. It didn't make her feel any better, but it was somehow satisfying… in a childish kind of way.

Sara turned the corner and saw Greg, Warrick, Nick and Val hanging around in the Break Room. Laughing and joking. All of them bore signs of tiredness, but they were trying to wake each other up, and keep each other awake. Friendships formed in trying situations always end up being the strongest of all. It was like Val was becoming part of the family.

What? Sara stopped in her tracks. She stared; were her eyes deceiving her? She looked again. There was no mistaking it.

Val, you liar!

Warrick looked up and saw Sara coming towards the Break Room. She didn't look happy. "Good morning, sunshine," he grinned, waving his bandaged hand, "Sleep well?"

Sara grunted and headed for the coffee pot. She deliberately looked away, keeping her eyes down, so she wouldn't have to look at her friends. Or Val.

Liar. She set me up. She knew this would happen. She just thinks she can waltz in here and screw up our lab… She said it herself, she's the Patron Saint of Screwed Relationships… I mean, if I hadn't taken her 'advice', Grissom wouldn't have taken off, and I wouldn't be feeling like crap…

Val frowned once at Sara, as though sensing her dark mood, but another one of Greg's jokes distracted her.

"A priest, a rabbi, and a jockey walk into a bar…"

Val dismissed Sara's scowl to lack of sleep, but couldn't help but be a little concerned. Something was up with Sara. Perhaps she'd ask her about it later.

"And then the rabbi says, 'Well, what is that supposed to mean?'"

"I know this one." Nick grinned.

Greg looked vaguely annoyed. "Do I steal your thunder, Stokes? Shut up and lemme tell the joke."

"And then the priest says," Nick grins, interrupting, "Not a damn thing…"

Greg scowled. "You're doing it wrong. The jockey says 'I haven't a clue' first of all…"

Val laughed. "And the punch-line is that the jockey can't even see what's happened because…" She left it hanging.

"You've heard this joke before?" Greg looked crestfallen.

"Sorry," Val shrugged, grinning. "But if you want to impress me, Greg, you'll have to take jokes from somewhere other than smirked behind his coffee. Warrick and Val laughed. Sara drank her coffee and watched them all from the other side of the room. Almost resentfully.

Stupid Val. Stupid Grissom. Stupid both of them.

It wasn't that she was mad at Val, it was just she felt… well… betrayed. Almost. Well, what else was she supposed to feel? Didn't Val say before that she didn't ever want to start a relationship with anyone - especially not Nick - because she was afraid of heartache? Didn't Val have those scars on her? And here she is, being all chummy with Nick… she lied. 'Workplace romance doesn't work for me… I honestly think you and Grissom have a chance…' Liar. You just want to mess with everyone's heads, screw us around. Some 'working holiday', Val. I bet you do this everywhere you go - and you leave destruction in your wake. No wonder you don't have any friends in Seattle. Stupid Val.

And stupid, stupid Grissom.

Grissom came into the break room, and the laughter ended. It was time to work; and a case from the Mayor is no laughing matter.

"Thankyou all for coming back at such short notice." Grissom looked around the break room, unintentionally avoiding everyone's eyes. Especially Sara's. "As you know, this case is very important. The Mayor wants us working on it. He wants it to go away." He looked around at his team. "So we make it go away. And we don't stop working until we solve it."

"How long are we talking about here?" Greg asked, frowning.

"As long as it takes," Grissom shrugged, shaking his head. He didn't know either.

"What about us?" Val asked. "Nick and I, I mean. We're already working on a case."

"Yeah," Nick pitched in, "Does that mean our case goes on hold, or what?"

Grissom sighed. "No, you keep at your case. You solve it as fast as you can - the Mayor has our whole shift on lockdown, but that doesn't mean you two should stop what you're doing." He cleared his throat. "Al is coming back in to perform the autopsy on Emily Gold, and he knows that this case has top priority." He turned to look at Nick and Val. "So that means your… suicide jumper… won't be processed until the body of Emily Gold is."

Val looked disappointed, but voiced no complaint. Nick took another sip from his coffee, his face devoid of anything except fatigue.

"Right," Grissom said, businesslike. "Warrick, I want you to go to the hospital and talk to the survivor: Chris Harte. See if you can get some evidence off him; find out what he knows. Valerie, Nick: let me know when you finish your case." Grissom turned to Greg. "The evidence Warrick collected is your top priority. The DNA collected from the scene is waiting for you now."

"I'm on it," Greg said, rising to his feet.

"I'm going to go talk to Brass, see if he can get us interviews with people who might know why these two committed suicide. Parents, teachers, friends…" He took a breath, held it, let it go. "We've got a lot of work to do, so let's get started." He gathered up his folders and tucked them under his arm. "Any questions?" There didn't seem to be any.

Then there was a voice so quiet that everyone gathered almost missed it. "What about me?" Four pairs of eyes turned to find Sara waiting, her coffee cup empty and face blank. Grissom's eyes were the only ones that did not turn.

"What about me?" Sara asked again. "What do I do?"

"Warrick," Grissom turned to face the doorway, "Take Sara with you." He vanished out into the lab.

Sara's face creased in something that was almost a scowl, almost a sneer - but wasn't - for a moment. Then she shrugged, and looked aside, like it was nothing that Grissom had seemingly brushed her off. Like it was just so typically Grissom. She waited until Grissom was out of sight before she, too, left the break room… she just went in the opposite direction. Heading for the locker room. She smiled like nothing was wrong.

But four people knew better, and exchanged glances.


A/N: If you want to yell at me for taking so long between chapters, go right ahead. But I have no control over the workload in my senior year! I am at the mercy of the education system! However, suggestions, reviews and lots of cookies may make this story update a lot faster...