Disclaimer: I don't own csi but I really wish I did :)

What Does It Take?

Never A Normal Day

Sara crouched down to take a picture of the sandy boot print. There wasn't anything special about it, anything tell tale or important. It looked like an average size 10 workers boot.

She wandered towards the back of the hotel suite, being careful not to step on any blood spatter.

It was a large hotel suite, with tiled floors and windows for walls. A jacuzzi tub only took up a quarter of the large bathroom as she walked in.

The body had just been removed, leaving a tub full of of sticky red blood. She tried not to grimace as she noticed small specks of body within it.

Quickly turning around, Sara walked back into the massive living room. She was leaving the tub to Nick.

There were definite signs of struggle, that was for sure. Broken glass decorated the white fur carpets, lamps were overturned and several magazines we splayed on the ground.

"Hey." She heard the all too familiar voice say from behind her. She felt herself smile at his presence. Having him here would definitely make this a whole hell of a lot easier.

"What are you doing here?" She said, turning around to face him.

Greg shrugged over-dramatically. "Cant your best friend come out of the goodness of his heart, on his day off not to mention, and try to help you with a hard case that-"

"Shut up Greg." She interrupted playfully. "You can take the tub full of blood."

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed his camera off the counter. "Fine."

Before he could walk off, Nick stepped into the room.

"Got anything on the suspect?" He said, but seemed distracted.

"Size 10 foot print, witnesses said white male, average height." She responded, leaning against the sofa.

"So basically half the male population." Greg muttered and Sara caught the look of annoyance in Nick's eye. She wanted to call him out on it, come on, Greg was like a little brother. She loved him to death.

"What about the victim?" Sara asked, changing the subject quickly. Nick broke his annoyed stare to look at her instead.

"Found a wallet. Dan Neumair. But he didn't pay for the room so who the hell knows how he got here." Nick told them before pausing briefly.

Sara glanced at Greg quickly, meeting his eyes. Fabulous. So now they not only had to find out how the suspect got in here, but also the victim.

"I'm gonna go talk to the front desk, see if they know where the room owner is." Nick said, and walked out of the room.

Greg stared at her. "Okay. Guess we gotta do our thing."

She managed a smile at him. "Yep. Find all the answers from a trashed hotel room."

XXX

Greg left the bathroom for the third time in half an hour. The smell was overwhelming and honestly, he'd rather be working with Sara.

She was his best friend. She never failed to make him smile and even though her happiness had take a trip downhill, he knew how to find it. He just wanted to see her smile.

He began to walk into the kitchen, where he could hear her rummaging around, but a glint of light caught his eye.

Greg walked into the second bedroom, following the golden shimmers. They danced across the walls as his flashlight shined across the dresser.

Sitting on the wooden surface was a broken necklace, which looked as if it had been thrown onto the table hastily.

Greg snapped a picture and tried to imagine how it had gotten there. A fight maybe? If the room owner was a woman, then Dan Neumair could have been her partner. He could imagine the fight- yelling and swearing, the woman ripping the necklace off as a show of defiance. It seemed pretty likely.

He bagged it, knowing that if it indeed had been torn off, there was bound to be skin follicles on it.

He heard a loud thud and a small cry. He walked briskly into the hall, avoiding the spattered blood. Sara wasn't in the kitchen where she had just been. Somehow, he knew there was something wrong.

Greg concentrated on keeping his footsteps silent as he edged towards the living room.

Motion caught his eye and through a gap between the kitchen wall and the open closet door, he saw an arm. But it wasn't the arm that made his heart race.

No, it was the fact that when he took a step closer, he could see everything.

Sara's delicate body slumped against the wall, her terrified yet furious eyes targeted on the man above her. The gun in the tall man's hand, pointed directly at her, the tip shaking. And worst of all, the large cut on the side of Sara's cheek, where she had obviously been pistol whipped.

And her gun, lay on the floor, five feet away, out of reach.

Shit.

Ohh myy god? Excited for more I hopee :) Review and it'll come! I promisseee!