Okay so I figured I should post chapter three. Sorry it took so long... My beta hasn't read it yet, so sorry if theres any errors. Well I think this is about the end of any trace of Snickers in this story, just to let you know. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 3

He'd gotten used to seeing corpses. It was part of his job, and the shock most people got of seeing a dead person failed to come. Melissa Harrison was no different. He had to admit, he could see why a murdered child or person this young would unnerve someone, but he'd gotten past that a long time ago. Doc Robbins stood on the other side of the table, looking at the body with something close to pity. "Well, Gil, she's no different than the others. I must say, you have one interesting serial killer."

Grissom didn't say anything. Their serial killer was indeed interesting. He didn't leave any identifying clues, the causes of death were different, and there were no similarities in the victims' backgrounds. He wasn't even quite sure they had a serial killer. The only real connection between the murders was the proximity in time. It seemed his signature, if he even had one, was to put the victim in as much pain as possible before they died. Grissom tried to keep his own feelings out of his cases, but they got away with him sometimes. He wished he didn't have to put Sara or Nick on this case, but it seemed he had no choice. Both were sensitive sometimes. In Nick's case, it was those committed against little boys. Reluctantly, he threw off these thoughts and brought himself back to the autopsy. "He is proving interesting," Grissom managed to say. "Time of death?"

"Approximately 1:30 am."

"Her parents got home at 1:45. Wow, she wasn't dead long." Grissom muttered to himself. "Cause of death?"

"Well, on that, you were right. Poisoning from stomach acids. Nasty way to die." Doc Robbins looked at the body sadly. "You say you found Da Vinci Code by her bed?"

Grissom grunted in reply.

"Have you read it?"

"Who hasn't?" Grissom said. "My job's taught me not to believe in coincidences, and this is definitely not one. What else do we know about her?"

"Not much. She's the typical 17 year old. Well, close to typical. Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke. No traces of drugs in her body."

"Sexual assault?"

Doc Robbins sighed. "Yes. Poor girl. She's so young."

"Did you find any semen?" This was too much to hope for, but there was no harm in asking.

"None, this guy knows how to play."

Grissom sighed. He was expecting it, but it just made his job harder.

Doc Robbins looked down on Melissa Harrison. "Well, I'm pretty sure the murder weapon is a knife. There are multiple contusions on her neck, possible strangulation." He pointed to her neck, where purple bruising was beginning to show. "Quite a few knife wounds on the rest of her body, bruises on her arms where she was tied. It looks just like the other three. Unlike them, though, she had about 15 minutes to spare between the time she was stabbed and the time she died. If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that I don't ever want to be in the kind of pain she was in before she died."

5:00 found Nick waiting outside Sara's house in his Denali. Almost the moment he pulled up, Sara came walking down the driveway with her kit. She got in immediately and shot him an unhappy look. "Did you get your sleep?" She asked, scowling.

"I did indeed, thank you very much." He replied. Her scowl intensified. "Did you?" He asked.

"I suppose," She said, almost regretfully. For a moment there was silence, and Nick considered turning on the radio. Quite suddenly, she exclaimed "How can you do it? All of you!"

Nick spared her a glance. He knew quite well what she was talking about, but asked nevertheless "Do what?"

"Just sit there! Like nothing's happened! A girl has just been molested, raped, and killed! How can you act so… so… callous!" Nick almost thought he saw tears of frustration.

He sighed inwardly. All of them knew that Sara had a problem with cases like these. However much he did not want to admit it, even he was affected sometimes. He had a way to take his mind off of work though. He had his family, his friends. They were the ones who got him through the aftermath of his own kidnapping. He shook off that thought. "Sara, what do you do outside of work?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "Everyone's talked to me about that before. I'm trying to get out, alright!"

Nick tried not to sigh. "Look, Sara, I know I sound like Grissom, but you need to try harder,"

"We all have our secrets," She said mysteriously. "It's not just me that gets attached to victims."

He glanced at her. "What do you mean?" He said, a little suspiciously. He'd only told Catherine about his little secret, and he doubted very much that she would tell anyone.

She looked away. "Well, the reason I get like this, I suppose is because of… something… personal. It's not just me. All of you have something that makes you feel stronger for different victims. I saw the way you looked at that boy. The second victim of our serial killer."

Nick looked away, slightly alarmed. He'd told Catherine, but frankly, he had no intention of telling anyone else. "He was… is evidence." He said, finally. He didn't want to look at Sara. He didn't want to see her smile of triumph. That was a long time ago. Nobody had the right to remind him of it.

"Nick?"

"We're here." He was glad to see the building, and got out of the car immediately. He didn't want to talk to Sara at the moment. She didn't know anything about his past, and she didn't need to.

She fell into stride next to him, and he forced down bitter feelings. "Nick?" She asked again.

"Do you think they found anything?" He asked.

"No," She said, seeming to get the hint. "They didn't find anything the last three times. Why should this be any different?" It wasn't. That was the problem. Serial killers were caught when they slipped up, and this one hadn't yet.

Hope you liked it, drop a review if you've got anything to say...