Magic Bullets by TonksIsMyHero
Summary: Greg is both witness and investigator to a shooting where the evidence just doesn't make sense.
Spoilers: Minimal, slight "Fannysmackin'" spoilers
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with "CSI" and I bow down to those who do.
Pairing: All canon
Notes: I wrote this as though it's an actual episode...it's supposed to read like a transcript.
(Back at the crime scene, SARA is interviewing a young couple who "saw it all"...which of course means they disagree on everything.)
SARA: Was there just one guy shooting?
YOUNG LADY: Yeah, just one. Kinda short, not a big guy, but he had on a big, baggy sweatshirt, so it was hard to tell how much he weighed, you know?
YOUNG MAN: Babe, he was one of them, there was another guy.
YOUNG LADY: I didn't see anyone else. I was looking the same place you were.
YOUNG MAN: There was one other guy, dressed the exact same way, waving his arms around.
YOUNG LADY: A lot of people were waving their arms around. There were bullets, you know!
SARA: What did they look like? Young, old? Race?
YOUNG MAN: Both were hispanic.
YOUNG LADY: I only saw that one guy and he was definitely white.
YOUNG MAN: Honey, it was dark. You don't know what you saw.
YOUNG LADY: Then how come you're so sure?
(SARA sighs. The scene changes to NICK talking with a girl who was clearly at the bar underage. Her wrist is bandaged.)
GIRL: I just wanted a night out, you know? I've been working really hard in school and we have tomorrow off and I wanted a night just to goof off. Just to be around people who didn't know me, so I could just do whatever. Just relax and have some fun, maybe dance a little.
NICK: You have anything to drink?
GIRL: Just one beer. I was here more for the atmosphere.
NICK: What did you see?
GIRL: I was just leaving and I heard the shots. I tried to turn and see where they were coming from and someone knocked into me and I fell onto my wrist. I sprained it.
NICK: Did you see who was shooting?
GIRL: Yeah. It was a kind of medium-height white guy with a blue sweatshirt.
NICK: Did you notice anything else about him?
GIRL: Um...he had really, really curly brown hair. Like, ringlets, almost, you know?
NICK: Okay. Anything else?
GIRL: Not really. Are you going to tell my dad about this?
(NICK considers her for a moment.)
NICK: Tell you what. You give me your fake ID, you can tell your dad whatever, and you won't have any trouble from me. Deal?
(The GIRL eagerly hands NICK her ID.)
GIRL: Thank you.
NICK: Anytime. Take care of that wrist.
(NICK gets up and joins SARA.)
SARA: Any luck?
NICK: Got a pretty good description from the girl over there. Says the guy was medium height with brown ringlets.
SARA: Ringlets?
NICK: That's what she said. Really, really curly, she said.
SARA: Well, the happy couple decided on there only being one shooter too, but they couldn't decide if he was white or hispanic. I think we'll go with your girl's description. It's pretty good. Not many guys I know have ringlets.
NICK: Shirley Temple have a brother?
SARA: We'll see.
(Back at the hospital, GREG is interviewing LEAH MADDOX.)
GREG: How are you feeling?
LEAH: Okay. Thanks.
GREG: I don't know if you remember me, but -
LEAH: You're the guy who kept me from passing out. Thank you.
GREG: Sure thing. I'm Greg Sanders and I'm with the Crime Lab.
LEAH: Oh. Wow.
GREG: I just wanted to know if there was anything you could tell me about what happened tonight.
LEAH: I got to the bar around ten. I had a couple drinks, chatted with a few people...my friends took off around eleven-thirty.
GREG: Why'd they leave?
LEAH: They both work earlier than I do. Standard nine-to-five. Me, I teach private singing lessons and nothing before noon. Anyway, I was having a nice talk with this woman who also teaches voice, so...I know that sounds really lame since I was supposed to be partying it up at a Vegas bar, but it was nice to just talk to someone, even if I was a little tipsy while I was doing it.
GREG: Understandable.
LEAH: Anyway, around midnight I was a little tired, so I decided I would leave. And that's when I saw the guy.
GREG: Who?
LEAH: He was this kind of cute guy...he was like 5'7, maybe, something like that...curly brown hair...he came up and talked to me.
GREG: What did he say?
LEAH: He leaned in really close and said something like...like "Go on, get out of here, you're too pretty to get hurt." I didn't know what he meant, but it freaked me out. I started walking to my car, but I heard the shots and I heard someone yelling, so I went to see what happened. I have training in CPR, and I thought I could help...and then I felt my stomach just, like, I don't know...it felt like it collapsed or something.
GREG: You got shot.
LEAH: Yeah. And the same guy was saying, "I told you to go!"
GREG: Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?
LEAH: Yeah, probably. But this guy's voice...that's what really stuck.
GREG: What about it?
LEAH: He had some sort of speech...thing. Not like a lisp or something, but his voice sounded like he was talking through custard. Kind of lisped, and kind of like he talked out of the sides of his mouth. And his pacing was kind of...off. I can't really explain it.
GREG: Could you identify it?
LEAH: Absolutely.