A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing friends, your comments meant a lot to me.

- Distance -

Part 2

"He died of his own erection?" Catherine stared at them from behind the stacks of paper above her desk, her maroon jacket wrinkled, her eyes looking tired.

"Sort of." Sara handed Catherine the report file. "George Taubman was a head researcher working for Alves Pharmaceutical. They currently research this new mixture of Sildenafil citrate and herb from Borneo that promises long lasting erections. We also found a bunch of sex paraphernalia in his bedroom that suggested this man was a maniac. "

"Traces of the mixture were found in the wine glass and Mr. Taubman's system contained more Sildenafil, steroid, flavonoid, and half dozen other additives that would have made a porn star jealous." Greg continued. "He died of heart failure due to…," Greg stopped dramatically, "too much excitement."

"We personally do not believe a man as smart as Mr. Taubman would take the risk of testing his own magic concoction." Greg then opened the file in front of Catherine, revealing pictures of a man and a woman. "These are Jocelyn Clauson and Jesse Zibble, both are Taubman's assistants and have access to the experiment."

"We found both their fingerprints on the scene, all on common items like books or door handles. Brass couldn't get through them in the interrogation though, they lawyered up. Both assistants had been in Taubman's place so many times before that the prints wouldn't stand up in court." Greg delivered their conclusion, "it's either they killed him or he killed himself, either way our case is a dead end."

"Sara," Catherine said. "Are you being expected somewhere else?"

"Huh?" The later came out of her reverie, focusing on Catherine. "No. I just-" Her phone vibrated and she hastily fished it out of her pocket.

"Ooh, that's what she's been expecting, a booty call from Pareee." Greg whispered aloud.

The call wasn't from Grissom, just an advertisement message from her service provider. Sara sighed, looking up at Catherine. "I would like to go back to the scene for a second look."

"Your shift is almost over." Catherine remarked. "Mr. Taubman had no relatives. I'd rather have you and Greg help with the backlog."

Sara had to hold back her blow. She wanted a conclusion on her case. She wanted to be able to talk to Grissom or at least for him to reply to her text. She wanted so much, but everything seemed to be going against her will right now.

"Okay." She said after a deep breath. "Which backlog?"

Catherine shuffled for a file, reading it for a few second before speaking again. "Greg, help us profile the DNAs from this three-day-old arson and Sara, I'll notify Al to start the autopsy of our Mrs. Dead bum. She's been down in the morgue for a week."

Both Sara and Greg stood, watching Catherine hurriedly sign their report and put it on top of the stack in front of her before they headed for the door.

"You okay?" Greg asked after they reached the hallway.

"I'm good." Sara squeezed the phone in her hand, as if willpower alone could make it ring. "I just need to make a call."

"I see." Greg smiled. "Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars."

A wan smile was all Sara could give at Greg's rare ability to quote. She pressed the phone to her ear, waving at Greg as she headed down to the morgue.

/-/-/-/-/

"It's the fatal crushing injuries to her chest that killed her."

Nous sommes désolés Madame, Monsieur Grissom a annulé tous ses cours aujourd'hui.

In Sara's mind, the familiar voice of Al Robbins was replaced by the fluent French of a stranger thousands of miles away.

Why did the receptionist tell me Grissom cancelled all his lectures for today? Did I ask the wrong question?

Her six-month stay in Paris hadn't been enough to sharpen her French and Sara doubted she had obtained all the information needed from the receptionist.

She had his entire schedule for this month. He hadn't told her about any changes. Where was he? Why wasn't his phone active? Why hadn't he called her like he always did every day?

Those questions drummed Sara's worrisome mind into panic beats.

"Sara, are you listening?"

"Huh," Sara forced herself to listen. "So, it's internal bleeding."

"Yes." Doc motioned to the opened torso of the dead body. "You see, most of her ribs were fractured, and these two vertebrosternal ribs punctured her lungs. I'd say something very heavy was on her chest when she died."

"She's a bum, sleep everywhere. I'm thinking car accident; crushed by the tyres maybe."

"Not likely," The coroner moved to close the torso, revealing the chest skin. "This bruise wasn't here when the body arrived." He pointed at blue rounded bruise on the victim's chest.

"It looks like something spherical, like this table top in our apartment in Paris." Sara flipped the case file open, examining crime scene photos while her mind wandered back to their Parisian apartment. "No spherical surface in these photos, I'll ask Ray, he processed the scene."

"You do that." Al nodded toward her. "After you get some rest."

Sara frowned.

"Dr. Langston is probably busy anyway, pursuing leads on his two DBs." Al pointed at two other bodies on the tables away from them. "And it seems like you could use some rest."

"I'll manage."

An open smirk graced Al's face. He reached for the lamp above the table and pushed it closer toward Sara's face. "Take a look at yourself. These are quite big bags you sport under your eyes."

Sara did as she was told, noticing how pale and lifeless her reflection was on the chrome surface.

"That and you zoned out on my autopsy, I'm not that dull a speaker."

Sara sighed, admitting defeat. Her hands were clutched at her side as her body swayed slightly forward. Then as if the dam of her mind had been broken, she whispered. "I haven't been able to reach Grissom."

"Oh." Al looked up from the body. "How long? Have you tried the university?"

Her answer was weak. "Since yesterday evening. I've tried the university and our best friends, they don't know. What if… what if-" she didn't have the strength to voice her fear, afraid that it would become reality.

It only took a second for Al to round the table. He enveloped Sara in a loose hug. "Oh dear, distance is a beast. Stop your mind from wandering too far."

"Yeah," Sara nodded, almost unable to hold back tears. "Yeah."

"Why don't you take a rest in the break room," Al mildly suggested, "give me the number of your friend in Paris, your closest one. I'll try to find out Gil's whereabouts."

Just as Sara was about to get her phone from her pocket, it chirped. She answered the call hastily, hoping for Gil to be the one at the other end.

"Hello…" Her voice trembled.

TBC