Disclaimer: see chap 1

Gryffindor620 - Well...actually...when you watch season 2 and 3 (except Lady Heather's Box) very closely, in my opinion the animosity between Cath & Sara disappeared almost completely. But in season 4 they really seem to hate each other's guts again sigh. Still figuring out why ;-)...But feel free to disagree...another POV is always welcome :-)

Chapter 9

Next stop: one of the casinos on Blue Diamond road. 'One' of the casinos, I wonder how many casinos there are on that road. After 9 casinos I thought I had seen them all. Next casino, number 10, with the original name: Casino. I look around the street. I don't think people ever sleep here. Which is a good thing. I don't sleep much myself. This really is the city that never sleeps.

I walk inside and look around. I see some slots, a wheel of fortune, some gamblers who desperately try to win their money back. Chips, coins and the rambling sound of money, that's all I hear. Every casino is the same. Also the smell: there's alcohol, cigarettes, sweat, perfume and food. So when you come to a casino you can get drunk for free, instant lung cancer, a complete workout, a nice smell if you are lucky and indigestion. How can anyone spend 24 hours in a casino. I'm here for 10 minutes and I hate it already. My eyes rest on the blackjack table. At the blackjack table sits a man, about 6'3", wearing a t-shirt and sports pants. This is strange. Normally when people go to a casino they dress up. He must be a local. Grissom mentioned once that Warrick is a local. It looks like he really knows what he is doing. I take my file and search for his picture again. Yes, at that table sits Warrick Brown.

The dealer asks "You're up 11 G's. Hit or stay?"

11 G's? Now he knows how to play. I wonder why he needs the money. Is it just for fun or to replace the guilt he is feeling for leaving Holly at the scene? Leaving a rookie behind! I know I was left alone at a scene a couple of times. But there was always a cop waiting outside. Where did that cop go? But still one question keeps on lingering in my mind: why did he leave one of our own alone. She was so fragile. I could tell from the photo's. She wouldn't stand a chance. She knew she was death before she could do a thing. And that is all his fault! I blame him for that. I walk up to him.

"Stay. I want to talk to you." He glances up at me and then looks away again. He looks away! Guilty already! I don't feel pity. But as Grissom would say: 'Follow the evidence.'. I can't pick sides. I should hear him out and then make my final report. We decide to go to the coffee shop down the street. It's not cozy, but for this talk we don't need cozy. It's strange to question our own, it's like stabbing them in the back. But I want to know why? We all need to know why. And I hope that he is honest enough to tell me the truth. We sit down at the bar and order coffee.

"You were playing $100 on every spot. You have a system?"I ask. Hey, maybe I can learn something, okay. It is also a tactical move. If he feels comfortable he might talk. He's all tensed now, I feel it. Yet his body language tells me that he doesn't care and pretends that he is not afraid. He looks at me. I look into his green eyes. I look behind the deep green. I can see it. Deep down inside he feels like a little boy who is ready for a lecture. He's scared to death that because of him Holly dies. I look deeper in his soul. He's afraid that I will reveal a secret!

"I'm counting cards." Is his reply. He's honest about that. That's a step forward.

"Isn't that illegal?" I can't help but smile. It's a sarcastic smile. A man who works for law enforcement breaking the rules. He really knows a lot about gambling. After all, he is a local.

"Not if you do the math in your head." I look at him intently. He shuts down and raises his walls. He doesn't like my stare. He shifts uncomfortable in his chair. I have to intervene before he shuts down entirely. I'm this close to let him talk, I can't lose him now.

"You play anything else?" He contemplates his answer for a second. Come on man, just confess! I feel like a priest in church. I know that he plays more than just cards.

"I bet sports from time to time." Good guy. Now cut the crap and come to the point. I've played a nice girl long enough.

"So ... let me get this straight." I'm looking in my bag for my notebook. The unofficial talk is over. I continue, " You were assigned by Brass to shadow a trainee, a robbery comes up on M.L.K, and you go for coffee." I could've been understanding if he went to another crime scene, but no he went for a damn coffee! This isn't right. This is so wrong. He takes a sip of his coffee.

"An officer was there." Not really a torrent flood of words. His voice has changed. Not so steady anymore. I have to dig deeper.

"So, you felt safe to leave? Do you know the policies and procedures for clearing a scene?" I say. As a CSI you need to know this. But maybe the robbery was more important.

"Yes" It is barely audible. He knows he made a mistake. That he really fucked up. And by looking at his body language I can tell that he really feels guilty for what happened. I can't take this into consideration. I have to be neutral, remember.

"Then, why'd you leave? I mean, what was so important that you had to rush out of there?" He is going to lie, he doesn't even look at me. Why lie now? Don't make it even worse.

"I told you. I went for coffee." That pisses me off! My blood starts to boil! How can he stay this calm. One of his colleagues was shot. If I ever have to work with him, I'd better watch my back, I know that for sure. I explode inwardly.

"Was that before or after you made your bets? Sunday ... Vegas ... NFL football ... guy like you ... come on, you trying to tell me that you didn't make a little pit stop?" He just sits there, he looks lost. "Look at me. Did you log on ... tell dispatch where you were going?"

Yep, that was the trigger, now he was starting to get angry. When I'm really pissed I use a sarcastic undertone. I always do. My mother hates that because my brother started to do the same when we were younger. And I know from experience, this tone can make two stones start to fight.

"Do you know how many times I've been left alone at a crime scene when I was a rookie?" He spits. It's not only anger but also sorrow. I need to tell him what he has done.

"Yeah, well, this time is different." He's defeated. He gives up. I won. And I have to tell him some more bad news.

"Yeah, why's that?" He rubs his face. I'm sorry that you're hearing it like this, but I have to.

"Holly Gribbs died on the operating table twenty minutes ago." He looks at me in shock. I see the pain in his eyes, the sorrow, he really cared for her. I on the other hand could only stare. I never knew the girl but by the look on his face, I could've started to cry. And for a moment, time stood still. He gets up and looks around. He searches in his head for a logical explanation but there is none. I know I have to be neutral, but I can't do this anymore. I will write that report, I will be objective but I sympathize with him. I ask him if he needs a lift.

"No, I just need to be alone and clear my head." And with that he was gone.

I drove back to HQ. I walk straight to the break room. I have to say this lab isn't the labyrinth I first thought it was. I pass by the windows of the break room and in that room is my mystery.

The break room is very bright. Even brighter than the rest of the lab. In the room is a large table and around that table are chairs. Against the far wall is a mini-kitchen. Everything is white. It reminds me of a hospital, and I don't like hospitals. The table is in front of that little kitchen. On the other side we have a sofa and a TV and that's it.

When I walk in a guy that I don't know says hi, I just nod. Catherine is leaning against the counter, her hands rubbing her temple. From the look on her face I can tell that she already heard about Holly. I walk towards her. I want to give her a hug but instead I ask "Mind if I get a soda?"

Catherine looks puzzled. I point at the refrigerator behind her. She's far gone, I can tell you that. It looks like she is ready to go home. Her purse is on the table, she is wearing her jacket. "Oh, yeah sorry" and she moves away.

She walks towards the table. It's not the right time to say this but she really has a nice ass. I open the refrigerator and take a soda. I'm always polite so I ask "You want one?"

She really doesn't look good. Her eyes are watery and they're blood red. She was crying. Now I really want to comfort her, but something in me tells me that it isn't such a good idea. I'm practically a stranger. You don't want hugs from strangers.

"Is there anything in it with alcohol?" she asks. She must be really off now. We're still on the clock. But if there was anything with alcohol in it, I would have offered her.

"Root beer." I say.

"No." Was the simple reply.

She turns away from me. Did I say something wrong? She walks over to the bulletin board and stares at it. I want to know how she feels, what is wrong, what is on her mind. She looks so lost. I open the can and at that moment a pager goes off. We both check our pagers but it's neither of ours.

Catherine heads for the table and grabs the bagged pager. She checks it. Her beautiful blue eyes grow wide. I love those eyes. They are like an ocean, clear blue. And the slightest bit of grey. It reminds me of a misty morning. You're with your boat on the sea and you can't look further than 4 feet because of the fog. I want to drown in that see…

"Oh…God." She says. She searches for her cell and dials the number. What is she doing? Did she lose her mind! She's actually going to call that number. She has the guts to do that? She's amazing.

I smile, "What are you going to say? Hi, I'm a Criminalist. I was in the neighborhood ... " She cuts me off! She's right, not a good time for babbling.

"Shh, it's ringing!"

She's shushing me??? I'm waiting for what's next. I really wonder what she is going to tell the person on the other end of the phone. She puts the phone on speaker. A guy picks up the phone.

"Hello."

She didn't expect that. She doesn't hesitate for a second.

"Uh, hey." Good icebreaker, Cath! Did I just said Cath?? Something is definitely wrong with me.

"Who's this? I just dialed my own damn beeper."

"Uh-uh. It's my beeper now. I found it." Wow this is weird. She's talking street! I should give her my mom's number. Maybe they can act together. I walk around the table and sit on the chair across Catherine.

"It ain't your beeper, girl. It's mine." I listen intently to Catherine. I'm almost in awe. Maybe she has a split personality. She's totally into her role. Not only her voice is different but also her body language.

That reminds me of something. She must have been a great stripper. If she walked up the stage I bet every head in the club would turn to see her. If she would still strip, I would be on the front road. Just to see a bit of her nice… "I do a lot of business on that beeper." Well formed, slim but muscular body! 'Oh my! Sidle pay attention!' Okay, no problem, nice skin and…'No not at her! To the conversation smartass!'

"What kind of business?" she says in her sweetest voice.

"You know -- slinging a little something-something." Something what? It's like he is talking Chinese or something.

"Oh, a little something-something. Or maybe a little bling-bling?" She actually knows what he is talking about! I need to learn this language…otherwise I can't interact with the people here. She has this devilish look in her eyes and a little smile. And now, she looks at me again. I think my jaw dropped to the floor. I need a drink! Wait, I have a drink. I could barely suppress a chuckle.

"So what you know about some bling-bling?" Oh she's so busted! Right now, I really do hope that she knows what she is talking about.

"Well, invite me over to your crib, baby and you might find out." You know, she starts to scare me. How does she do that? She can just wind everyone round her finger. He is lost. He will give in. Hey and if he doesn't give in…I'm available.

"It's on. Three Aces Motel, Room 202." Damn! He gives in. I grab my notebook and a pen and write down the address. From the corner of my eye I see Catherine almost bounces out of her chair of excitement. You can compare it to a kid that gets candy.

"Three Aces Motel, Room 202." She sighs almost expectantly. And the Oscar goes toooo….

"See you soon." She hangs up and turns to me.

"Did I just do that?" I'm still confused. I can't produce a single word. I can't even think right now. I'm dumbfounded.

When my mind starts to work again I only have one question: "What's a bling-bling?" I ask her and smile.

She thinks for a moment and answers "Got me." I get up and throw my can in the bin. So I don't need to learn a new language after all.

"I call Brass and go to the Three Aces." She says and adds "You wanna see some bling–bling?"

I laugh. 'As long it's bling – bling with you…' I wanted to tell her, but instead I say "Yeah."

Thanks for reading...as for the updates: still no promises ;-)