A/N - This story came to me quite out of the blue and has been sitting at the back of my mind screaming to get out. So who was I to deny the request? Hope you enjoy it! As always reveiw and tell me what you think...
Friendships And History
Chapter One – Learn To Fly
Sara rolled over slightly in bed, wrapping around the warm body that lay next to hers. She felt the reassuring rising and falling of his chest against her palm, breathing the smell of sleep off his skin, she realised just how in love she was with this man. It didn't matter that he drove her crazy with the systematic way he squeezed out the toothpaste or that he could quite happily ignore her when he was lost in a book. He was still the only person she knew who understood her completely, didn't mind if she turned into an emotional wreck every once and a while or that she felt like she always needed to be in control of situations. He relaxed her and she liked to think she did the same for him. She snuggled even closer to him, loving the way his body felt against hers, something so primitive and possessive about the skin on skin contact that it made Sara stop breathing for a second. Long before their relationship was moved from the privacy of the bedroom and into the public eye as it became more serious, Sara felt herself getting lost in him. It sounded foolish considering just how long she had liked him, even loved him but it wasn't until that first time they had kissed that she felt herself slipping away. Now, six months down the track, Sara, for the life of her, had no idea where she began and he ended. There was something so simple and secure in that fact. The relationship was easy and relaxed. They had their fights but the understanding was so good that the fights didn't usually last very long. It was by far the easiest and best relationship she had ever been in. Then he asked her to move in. Or more precisely, he wanted to know if he was ever going to get the space in his wardrobe back. When she had said no, he said that she might as well move in the rest of her stuff, so that was the end of that.
"Make the coffee."
Sara was jolted out of her thoughts by a foot running up her ankle, pushing her out of the bed little by little. Grissom's voice was slurry with sleep, his face still hidden beneath the covers. Sara pushed back with her own foot.
"You make the coffee."
A small tussle ensued and Sara won when she finally heaved the still half asleep Grissom from the bed. She smiled down at him as he lay groaning on the floor.
"Go and make some coffee."
Grissom got off the floor and glared at her.
"You are evil."
Sara stretched out across the bed so that she covered the whole thing with her out stretched limbs, giving a small groan before snuggling back under the covers. Grissom glared at her again before he left and Sara could hear him in the kitchen making coffee. Then she heard the hiss of butter being melted in a pan and she smiled again. Grissom was making eggs. She had learnt right from the beginning that Grissom's patience was not just limited to work. He took almost twenty minutes to make scrambled eggs, insisting that they be folded rather then whisked like any other normal person would do. She had tried to tell him otherwise but he had stuck to his guns. And she soon learnt why. He made the best scrambled eggs she had ever tasted. She heard him take the bread from the bread tin and put it in the toaster, heard the jingle of cutlery and plates as he set the table for breakfast, his feet scuffing on the hard wood floors. She swung herself out of bed and put on her slippers before padding into the kitchen, just in time to be presented with scrambled eggs, toast and a large mug of strong black coffee.
"As you ordered."
Sara smiled at him as she began to eat. That was something else she had noticed. Ever since they had first started going out, she was eating and smiling more. Catherine said it was because of all the sex, which just made Sara smile wider. The beepers that sat on the bench when they weren't clipped to their belts began to chirp madly and Sara gave a sigh as she saw the '911' flashing on the screen.
"And it's off to work we go."
The house was a plain brick one, in a non-descript neighbourhood. There was nobody milling around to get in the way and Sara was quite stunned by the silence of it all.
"Where are all the people?"
Grissom offered her a shrug but she could tell he was thinking the same thinking, his sharp eyes scanning the neighbouring houses with interest. When he spoke it was almost to himself.
"It's too quite."
Sara plodded beside Grissom as they made their way up the cobbled path leading to the front door, the eerie silence following them. Brass greeted them with a frown and a slight nod of his head.
"We got a DB in there. Looks like she was beaten to death."
Grissom paused to click on his latex gloves before kneeling at the door, examining the wooden frame.
"No sign of forced entry. She knew the person."
"Do you have an ID yet?"
Brass nodded as he examined the wallet that he held in his gloved hand.
"Jaime Cullen."
Sara felt the bottom fall out of her world. She knew Jaime.
"Did you find Amelia?"
Brass frowned and for the first time in her career as a CSI, Sara went barrelling into the crime scene without much regard for the scene itself. She was shocked by just how barren rhe house was; the only proof of existence was a couple of small suitcases and a baby bag that were sitting in the hall. She found Amelia in the last room, near the end of the hall. . Baby Amelia was laying on her bed, whimpering slightly, covered in dark blood. Sara quickly stripped her off and felt the relief flood her as she checked every inch of the soft, smooth skin and found nothing.
"Sara, you need to leave, now."
Grissom's voice was cool and controlled, a sure sign of the anger that was bubbling beneath the surface.
"I can do this Grissom, just let me get Amelia to the hospital."
Grissom shook his head as they made their way carefully back out of the house.
"I called Catherine. You may have ruined our chances of catching this person."
Sara turned to face Grissom, a wave of anger rising in her chest. She thrust Amelia, who had begun screaming, under his nose.
"And if I hadn't, she still be laying there. I wasn't wrong Grissom."
Grissom ran his eyes over the baby quickly before looking at Sara again.
"Take her to the hospital to get her checked over then call social services. When that is done, go home. I'll page you if I need you."
Grissom turned his back on her and went back into the house, kit in hand. Sara felt the anger slowly dissolve as her actions caught up with her. She didn't regret grabbing Amelia, but she did regret disappointing Grissom.
Sara followed the nurse into the little cubicle where she was instructed to undress Amelia so she could be examined. Even though there were no physical signs of injury, she was clearly distressed. She kept tearing at her clothes and exposed skin.
"What happened exactly?"
"I can't tell you much beyond that her mother was killed. When we found her she was covered in her mother's blood."
The nurse nodded as she tried to take Amelia's temperature.
"People think that babies don't notice things, that they can't process them but they do. I would say that little Amelia here saw her mother being killed."
Sara frowned as the nurse measured up medication in a syringe.
"What's that for?"
"Sedative. It will help her relax."
Amelia let out another cry of outrage as the needle slipped under her skin but soon the waving arms stilled and her breathing deepened as her entire body relaxed.
"We'll keep her here over night just to make sure she's ok."
Sara nodded as she took a seat next to the small incubator, struggling to remember anything different about her and Jaime's last conversation. Jaime was her normal bubbly self and Sara had not noticed anything to the contrary. Amelia had finally fallen asleep and Sara watched the steady raise and fall of her tiny chest, feeling suddenly regretful of her mad dash through the scene. They would have found Amelia when they processed, there was no way of missing her. But Sara had felt a certain evil in the house. It sounded ridiculous but sometimes she went to a crime scene and could almost physically grasp the evil that seemed to breath in the walls. And she had panicked. Panicked for Amelia and for Jaime. Whoever had done this could have just as easily hurt the baby; it could have been as simple as placing a pillow over her face and leaving it there. Grissom was right. She could have ruined their chances of finding the monster who had done this to Jaime and if that happened, Sara would never forgive herself.
After being reassured that they would call her before Amelia was taken away with social services, Sara left the hospital and made her way back to the office. She forced a smile at Jill as she passed the front desk, making her way down the hall to the break room; she was in dire need of something cold and full of calories.
"Hey Sara."
Nick had popped out of another room, automatically falling into step beside her, his voice casual. He knew what had happened. He must of otherwise he would hassle her about Grissom, the same way he had been ever since he had found out a few weeks ago.
"What ever Greg told you, it's not true."
"So it's not true that you compromised a crime scene?"
Sara sighed as she ran a hand through her hair.
"Yes it is. But you don't know the full story."
"So tell me, so I can correct Greg."
Sara turned into the break room, pulling a soda out of the fridge, taking a deep swallow before talking again.
"I knew the victim, Jaime Cullen. She was an old friend of mine. When I realised that she had been killed, I panicked and remembered her baby Amelia. So I rushed into the crime scene to find her."
"And did you?"
"Yes."
"Was she hurt?"
Sara shook her head, dropping her gaze to her shoes. She had always felt proud of her abilities as a CSI, knew that she was one of the best in the office. But right now, she wanted to do nothing more then disappear.
"Oh ok. So Greg was right then. I'm sorry to hear that."
"It was stupid and I got kicked off the case for it."
"You would have been kicked off the case regardless of you ruining the scene or not. You knew the victim, that automatically makes you a liability."
Sara levelled her gaze at Nick, her eyes narrowing.
"Thanks for your understanding Nick. You can't tell me that if that was you, you would do any differently."
Nick shrugged.
"I don't know but that's not the point. Jaime's killer could get away just because you panicked. The baby would have been safe regardless of what you did. Did rushing into the scene make any huge difference to her safety?"
Sara shook her head mutely.
"Well then."
A tense silence fell and it took of Sara's effort to not be the first one to leave the room. She would not let Nick get to her, would not let him see just how upset his comments had made her. Nick left the break room with a quite glance in her direction but before she could relax, Brass came strolling into the room.
"I need to interview you Sara."
Sara frowned.
"Why?"
"You may have been the last person to have seen the victim alive."
"Her name was Jaime."
"Fine, Jaime it is. Do you want to do it here or in one of the interview rooms?"
"Interview room's fine. Is Grissom back yet?"
Brass shook his head as he led the way to the back of the building.
"No. You really disappointed him."
Sara sighed as she took a seat in the cold room, her bare arms springing goose pimples.
"I know. I acted on pure instinct and I was wrong. Did I ruin the crime scene?"
Brass shook his head as he removed his jacket and placed it around Sara's shoulders.
"He didn't think so. He was pissed though so maybe he was just saying that to get me off his back."
"I'm really sorry about the mess I made."
Brass gave her a gruff smile as he pulled out a small tape recorder.
"You don't need to apologize to me. I would have done the same. I think that Grissom sometimes forgets just how people work. How is she by the way? Amelia was it?"
Sara nodded.
"She's going to be ok I think. She needed a sedative to calm her down though. The nurse thinks she might have seen something."
Brass frowned.
"If she did, how did she get back to her crib?"
Sara shrugged.
"I guess that's what Grissom will have to figure out."
One thing was still driving Catherine crazy. How in the world did baby Amelia end up back in her crib? She was about to voice her question aloud when Grissom moved to sit beside her, already rambling to himself about the problem.
"Why did he let the baby live?"
"Even killer's have morals Grissom, twisted as they may be. Maybe he didn't believe in killing a child."
Grissom sighed and let his eyes trail over their crime scene, taking in the physical evidence as they moved. Tilted pictures, broken vases, overturned TV and tipped bookshelf.
"Someone was terribly angry with this woman."
"Still no need to beat her to a bloody pulp."
A comfortable silence fell for a few more moments as they each became lost in their own thoughts again. Grissom was busy counting the bloodspots and blood pools when Catherine spoke again.
"So are you going to tell me why you are fighting with Sara?"
Grissom instantly lost count.
"She almost ruined the scene. She came barrelling in here to find the baby."
"Oh. So that's why she's not here."
"Yes."
Catherine moved around to face Grissom, her face serious.
"So your mad at her for being human?"
"No, I'm mad at her for not being a CSI first."
Catherine gave him a small smile.
"That's just foolish Grissom. Sara's never been 100 CSI, there's at least 10 human lurking in there."
"You would never do something like that?"
"Wouldn't I?"
Silence fell again as Grissom thought the question over, pausing for a moment to wonder why he didn't run in to save the baby. Maybe he was the only 100 CSI.
"You can't be mad at her for doing something that most people would. She knew the victim and the baby, so how else was she meant to react?"
Grissom, who had begun to be very uncomfortable with this topic of conversation, stood and offered Catherine a hand.
"Let's get back to HQ. We have work to do."
She let him pull her to her feet before they both began gathering their kits together as well as the large stack to brown evidence bags they had collected over the passing hours.
