A/N: So... The 7th installment to this story. Yay! And it just keeps going. Once more, I don't think I could find the motivation to keep on writing if I didn't have all of these awesome reviews coming in. They really make my day, all of them. So yes, I am MC New York and I do have an addiction to Reviews from my lovely reviewers. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: Silence. No. Walks away

Chapter 7: Anger Management

It was closing in on 6:00 p.m., and I'd yet to even allow my head to hit the pillow this entire time.

My eyes were beyond being heavy, yet I refused to pull myself away from the computer. After watching several hours worth of the home videos, something tugged at my mind to do a little bit of research. That drew my attention to the computer and the notorious In the search bar, I typed in Scott and Jasmine Crooks, 1987 and clicked "search". For the past seven hours, I studied the information that I already knew about. Nothing came up that was remotely useful to expanding my knowledge, and yet, I rejected the idea to give up.

I had gone through three pots of coffee by now, and I left my seat once more to make the fourth. Slowly as I watched the coffee drip into the pot, the simple and incessant motion mesmerized me. The temptation of sleep overwhelmed my body as I began to slump over the counter and fall to the floor in slow motion. Resistance gradually exited my body as I slumped up against my white wooden cabinets and closed my eyes. Somewhere down the hall I heard a faint beeping sound but I quickly blocked it out of my mind and fell asleep.

"Sara! Sara! Are you in there!" A distant voice called out to me through the black abyss as I tried to remain asleep.

Not having the strength to care much about the person, I attempted to move away from the noise and throw my hand lazily over my ear. I didn't have time for this. I was sleeping.

But a much louder sound ripped through the black chasm and caused my eyes to shoot straight open. Strangely enough, around me were the white cabinets that were in my kitchen. As I blinked away the sleep from my eyes, I steadily stood up and looked around. My computer was still on, my cellphone was ringing as well as my house phone, and my beeper was going off. And there was still someone at the door knocking.

How had I managed to sleep through all of that? I asked myself as I checked the caller ID on both phones and my beeper. Nick on the cell, Brass on the home, and a page from Warrick saying "SARA!". Great...

Stretching leisurely, I looked around for the time and I stopped mid-stretch in shock that it was 9:00 p.m..

"SARA! Open up!" The voice screamed in again, which I then identified as Greg.

Walking briskly over to the door, I opened it seeing as I hadn't locked anything since my unexpected slumber, and inhaled shortly at the sight of the young overly worried CSI. I held up my hand to silence him before he could get a word out of his mouth to intelligibly say.

"No questions, I'm fine. The world hasn't ended, I just overslept." I replied to the typical comments that ran through my co-worker's mouths when I didn't show up for work without notice. Or just not show up at all for that matter.

Greg's mouth snapped shut and he looked away slightly embarrassed. I walked toward my bedroom to get ready for the night. As I strode down the hall, I felt Greg still standing in the open doorway.

"C'min, sit down, help yourself to coffee, whatever to occupy yourself while I get ready." I called over my shoulder as I entered my room and closed the door.

Going over to my bureaus, I dug around for a T-shirt and work pants. Luckily, I had one last good pair of black pants that I deemed "work worthy" and a white short sleeved, V-necked shirt. Hurrying to my bedroom's bathroom, I jumped in the shower to wash up quickly. The hot water seemed to help soothe the kink that had formed in my neck and shoulders from sleeping in such an eccentric position.

Upon getting out, drying up, dressing up, and all the other essentials to getting ready for the day, or in my case, night, I exited my bedroom and walked into my living room. Greg seemed to be gawking at the computer screen with his CSI scrutiny we, as CSIs, had. I had forgotten to exit out of all that before hand.

"Hey, who's... 'Scott and Jasmine Crooks'?" Greg asked as he took a quick glance at me and then back at the screen.

Immediately reaching over and clicking the X box in the window, I eliminated the information. And much rather than getting mad at Greg for "invading" my privacy, I didn't only because it would look like I was keeping something a secret. Which I virtually was true, but nobody but myself needed to know that.

"Some old friends of mine." I half-lied as I proceeded to search for my shoes.

"It said they'd died." Greg said sympathetically. "I'm sorry..."

I looked up from over my couch and gave him a half smile as I shrugged to myself. "When you go, you go. Nothing you can do about it."

"Yeah, but still..." Greg said as he walked to one of the armchairs. "It's still a loss."

"Greg, have you seen my other shoe?" I asked, purposely changing the subject as I busied myself with searching for my lost shoe.

As Greg investigated the depths of underneath the chair, I was looking underneath the sofa and the other chair. Suddenly I heard Greg stand up and toss them next to me. Looking up at him, I nodded my thanks as I slid them on while I was on the floor.

"How could you sleep through all of that noise? Y'know, from earlier?" Greg asked as we were on our way out. I still didn't have my car.

"I'm not quite sure Greg..." I responded as I strapped in and sat back as Greg took off down the road.

Thankfully, it was a silent car once Greg got his music going. Much different from Brooke, to say the least. Rock against Rap.

At least they both had good tastes in artists when it came to the genre, I could only think to myself as we drove. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't stand the music and was stuck with them for all of these long car rides.

Before I even realized it, Greg had pulled into the Lab's parking lot and into the space next to where my broken down car is supposed to be. The important words there are "supposed to be". As in, it wasn't any longer.

Mouth opened wide in disbelief, I walked in the place where my car had once been. Turning in circles, I looked at the ground with half accusation as I stared back up at Greg with amazement as he stared back with confusion.

"What is it?" He asked finally.

"My car." I managed at first. "My car wasn't working yesterday and I got a ride instead. And yes, I'm sure this was where it was parked because I remember that... sad mistake of a tree was right in front of it. It's the only one here that's that horribly disfigured." I said as I came to a realization in my mind. "I got jacked..."

Greg couldn't help himself much longer so he busted out laughing to the point where he had to lean against his car just to remain standing. Rolling my eyes as I heaved a sigh, I power walked into the building, not forgetting to shove Greg as I passed him to get my vengeance on him. Picking up speed as I went for Grissom's office, I tried to remember what exactly was left in my car. I was drawing a blank as I went through a mental list of important items that were vital to my life.

Purse? With me right now. Money, ID, any identification cards? In my purse... My field kit? I'm holding it right now. I thought to myself as Grissom's office loomed ahead, door slightly cracked open and lights on. Grissom... Oh no... The pictures... Those were in there... Along with my personal journal... Dammit!

That was what was missing... And not only was it important, but it held a lot of information within it as well.

Oh well... What are a bunch of teenagers gonna do with my personal thoughts? Sell them on Ebay? I thought with a small snicker. But the pictures... I've had those since my Harvard days... The seminar... The week after the seminar when I got to know Grissom, and not just Dr. Grissom... Those pictures... Oh man.

I now stood outside of his door as I finished my thoughts. There was silence, but I cringed at the thought of if Lady Heather was in there with him. The day was bad enough to start off with, first with oversleeping, then with my car being jacked along with my personal belongings in it! The last thing I needed was to have my heart broken over seeing that unwelcomed scene. Just before my fist raised to knock on the frame of the door, I sent a silent prayer that Brooke's plan worked.

"Come in." I heard his voice call from the inside.

Opening the door, I sided with relief to see that he was the only in there, with the exception of a desk load of paperwork. I leaned up against the frame in the middle of the threshold watching him as he seemed to have an oncoming headache, with his head in his hands and rubbing lazy circles into his temples to soothe the pain. Grissom had looked up once since I entered, and that was closing in on five minute ago. Finally as I was about to move further in, he gazed up to make eye contact with me. His expression when from slightly annoyed to stunned.

"Sara..." He said after his quick emotional change, but kept his voice professional. "You were late."

"So I've noticed." I hadn't truly meant to get snippy, but the facts that remained in my mind gave my attitude a sharp edge. "I overslept Grissom. I am human, and I do need sleep. But that's not what I came here for. Grissom, my car got stolen right from the Lab's parking lot."

His face seemed as taken aback as mine had been when I realized it as well. Slowly as he absorbed the information, Grissom removed his glasses from his eyes and held them as he propped his elbows up on his desk. A moment of silence ensued as he thought for a second. "Did you have anything important inside?"

"Just some personal stuff." I answered back as I didn't want to say, 'Just some pictures of you and my thoughts written down about you.' That would freak him out for sure.

"That's it? Just your personals? Nothing involving the lab?" How does it figure his first concern would be the lab? Not that mine isn't either, but still... Just my personals? That's it? Hmph...

"No, just my personal things that have nothing to do with the lab or work in anyway." I said as I walked in and sat down in the chair in front, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap.

"All right. I'll contact Brass and ask him to put an APB out on your car so we can recover your things." Grissom said just as he reached over for his desk and began dialing.

Just as I was about to stand and leave, knowing I had evidence to be processing on my case, someone appeared in the door. Before my eyes could figure out who it was, I inhaled sharply at the thought of it being Lady Heather "dropping by for a visit". But it was only Catherine. I released an unknown about pent up breath before I walked out of the office without another word. As I strolled down the hall toward the locker room to put my field kit there for now, I felt Catherine's eyes baring into my back but I kept walking until I ended up in the locker room, and dropped off the unnecessary items I was holding. The Evidence Vault was my next stop to retrieve the evidence I would be examining. Signing it out, I took the bed sheets to the layout room to analyze and any evidence I might've missed on it. I wasn't about to wait around for Catherine.

Spreading it out on the table and snapping on my rubber gloves, I covered every inch and every piece of thread there was on the sheet. But I couldn't find anything but the suicidal teen's blood. A sixteen-year-old boy had been found in his girlfriend's house after they're spent a night together while her parents were out of town, and she'd gone out to buy some much needed "provisions" when she came home to see him laying in her bed, dead and bled out. A bloody knife at his side along with a gun as he appeared to have shot himself as well. It would've been open and shut, except for the cuts on his wrists didn't appear to be made by him. Not to a trained eye.

But just who would sit back and allow someone to slit their wrists and then shoot them? There wasn't a struggle in that entire room, no evidence of anyone besides him and his girlfriend. In my opinion, which I didn't even take truly into account just yet, the girlfriend found out something she didn't like about the boy and lured him into bed and just when he was completely disoriented, she slit his wrists and shot him to make it look like a suicide. But why double? Usually it's one or the other, but this was both. The boy's mother, who'd been on the scene, had informed us that he was being treated for depression and that he took his medication regularly: Zoloft. I took the guess that Catherine had already gone to Dr. Robbins's dominion, so all there was to wait for was for her to fill me in and for the Tox results to get back.

Speak of the devil. I thought as I heard Catherine's heels clicking down the hallway toward me.

Upon her arrival, I continued to work, determined to find some type of substance other than blood on the sheets. Just as I was getting to the hem of the sheets, Catherine decided to make her presence doubly known about by clearing her throat then walking all the way in.

"Have you gotten a Tox result back for the McBrian kid?" I asked as I continued my undisturbed search.

"Not yet... But we did get the Trace result as to what that dusty substance was on his hands. It was crushed up Trazalon, the anti-depressant." Catherine reported.

"Yeah, it helps treat mental depression that usually occurs with anxiety." I rattled off what I knew for a second to clarify it for myself. "Strange that he was prescribed it though... One of trazodone's side effects is priapism. In approximately 1/3 of the cases reported, surgery was required. So why would they prescribe a kid meds like that?"

"No idea... Maybe he had a medical problem with all the other types of anti-depressants." Catherine offered as she sat down next to me.

Finding nothing along the hem, I grabbed the sheet almost incriminatingly and was about to speak up before a white dusty substance sprinkled out of the open end of the hem. Trazodone was the first thought that came to mind. Taking a moment to confirm silently with Catherine, we glanced over at each other before she bent down and wiped the substance with her gloved finger. Rubbing it between her index finger and thumb, she sighed and sat back once more.

"Okay... So... Premeditated maybe? That's extremely convenient place for that to be, especially in that form." I talked it out. "So... Girlfriend finds out her loving boyfriend either isn't loyal or... I'm not sure what else. Decides to get revenge. Lures him into the bedroom, he's probably already under some type of influence seeing as he is considerably bigger than she is. There's no way that she could've forced a sober him to take a drug if he didn't want to." I shook my head at the thought.

"Unless she promised it would, 'Liven up the experience.'" Catherine added quickly.

"True... So, once he's pretty much... preoccupied, the girlfriend takes the chance to give him the drug. With the drugs acting on him, plus anything else he ingested before hand... He was pretty much sedated within minutes..." I stated.

"Gentle as a kitten." Catherine commented with a smirk.

"Yeah, a kitten that taken advantage of and killed in the end." I huffed.

"Open and shut..." Catherine said as she stood up after taking a sample of the substance and started toward the door. "I'll go check up on any pending results, and drop this off at Hodges." She waved the sample as she exited.

"All right! Let me know..." I let my voice fall as I stared back at the sheets.

And from that point on, I stayed in the layout room... For nearly hours. I only left to go to the Evidence Vault to check in the evidence that I was finished analyzing and check out the next piece of evidence up for examining. It went on and on until I lost track of the time at all. It was until Judy had called into the room that I stopped my robotically routine movements just to acknowledge what was going on around me.

"Miss Sidle? Are you there?" Judy asked through the intercom after her first announcement, which I missed, and a second of silence.

"Y-yes I'm here. What is it Judy?" I asked as I put the magnifier down on the table.

"Well, you have a visitor in the main lobby. I've been trying to tell her that you're probably working hard right now, but she refuses just to leave a message for you. Her name is Brooke Waters." Judy said as I heard Brooke grumbling in the background. "Should I tell her to come back at the end of shift?"

"No, no... I'll go see what she wants. Thanks Judy." I called as I stood from my seat to stretch shortly.

"Sure thing Miss Sidle." Judy said before she switched out.

Walking swiftly out of the layout room, I headed for the main lobby. Going in and seeing Brooke standing up with her arms crossed and staring at the wall intently, I looked over at Judy and said a silent thank you to her. Going up behind her, I tapped her on the shoulder lightly making Brooke twirl around instantly.

"Hey Brooke. What's up? It isn't the end of shift yet." I asked.

"I know but I've got to ask something of you. You see, this psycho psychiatrist changed my appointment around so I've got an appointment now. I know, I know... Who the Hell makes an appointment at 2:00 in the morning? Apparently this guy." Brooke gave a quick eye roll, answering my internal question as I realized the time for the first time. "I was planning on asking you after shift but..." Brooke inhaled deeply and shrugged before letting it go.

"I understand. Why do you need me, though?" I asked next, knowing she had a perfectly working car last I knew of.

"I can't bare being in that place, I just want someone to give me a lil' support." She answered seriously. "And just to ensure he doesn't sue me for kicking his ass for asking the wrong questions."

Knowing that Brooke had an underlying seriousness about the last part, I decided it wouldn't hurt to check out earlier today. The case was as slow as slow could get and nothing incriminating was turning up on any of the evidence, nor did any of my "CSI instincts" tell me there would be upon further investigation. Besides, we already were on our way to pinning the girlfriend. We already confirmed, I learned while examining the evidence in the layout room, that the girlfriend wasn't where she said she was at that time.

"Sure... Let me just check out and get my things." I said as I started for the desk. "You can come along too, if you want. I'll get you a visitor's pass."

After acquiring a visitor's pass and telling Judy I'd be leaving early from shift, Brooke and I walked down the halls toward the locker room. Stopping in hastily to the layout room I had been working in and I picked up the evidence I was working on. Making another stop into the Evidence Vault, I checked it back in before leaving with a short "Goodbye" to Andy who guarded the Vault.

Continuing down the corridors, Brooke was saying something about how Andy was checking me out, and I had to explain to her that he wasn't because our chemistry just didn't mix. She was about to question me before someone bumped into me as they came out from one of the hallways branching off the main corridor. I was about to apologize but I quickly noted who it was; Lady Heather. And she didn't appear to be apologizing either.

Shooting a death glare at the woman as she walked down the hall, I suppressed violent thoughts of myself coming up behind her and dealing more than a handful of harm upon the woman. As I snapped out of it, I was slightly frightened that I was having thoughts of this type. It wasn't possible that my jealous ran that deep, did it?

"Hey jackass! Watch where you stepping!" Brooke yelled at Lady Heather threateningly once she helped me up from the fall.

When Lady Heather didn't even seem to acknowledge Brooke's words and just kept walking, Brooke's face flared up with anger in an instant. Taking action, I grabbed her arm and led her onwards before she exploded, and before I did as well.

"Sara! What are you doing? You're just gonna let that skank push you down like that and then walk away without apologizing?" Brooke asked once I pulled her into the locker room.

"If I let you blow up at that woman in particular, I'm not sure I would've had the heart to stop you." I said cruelly as I went to my locker and opened it.

"Is that... Is that that skank of a girlfriend to that boss of yours?" Brooke inquired as she sat down on the benches.

"Yeah..." I managed out with a heavy breath as I sat down next to her with my stuff in hand.

"Damn..." She pulled the word out in her New York accent. "She ain't got nothing on you. What is that man? Blind?"

I chose to remain quiet and not respond at all to the question. It was best that way.

"Hmph... Well, this plan of mine will definitely go into effect soon. Just gotta catch the perfect moment now..." Brooke declared mischievously, looking over at me. Her face softened as she caught sight of me. What? Don't tell me I was being childish and crying now. "Hey Sar... I promise, this plan will work. How can it not?" Brooke said as she threw an arm around my shoulders to hug me tightly.

"I know... I'm confident that it'll work too." I put on my best 'Sara Sidle' smile. "C'mon. Let's get outta here. I don't even want to think about it anymore. For now, I just want to forget about it."

"All righty then... Besides, it's starting to smell like skank... Erm, I mean... skunk in here anyways." Brooke joked as we stood up and I shut my locker on the way out.

Going out into the parking lot, we cut across it to get to Brooke's car. The thought of her car made me think of my own which was no longer in my possession. The car and my personal possessions were no longer in my custody.

"Now what's that look for?" Brooke asked as we stood at our doors.

"I don't have my car anymore." I blurted out before I had a chance to think.

"What?" Brooke inquired incredulously. "You got jacked?"

Not saying another word, I opened the door and got in, buckling in just before staring straight ahead thoughtlessly. Brooke mimicked my actions for a second or two before I felt her vision shift from straight-ahead to me.

"You got jacked?" Brooke asked again with more mirth in her voice now.

"Yes." I answered finally.

"Oh wow... Now what the Hell are you gonna do for your work? Gonna catch the bus everyday?" Brooke seemed to want to play this game with me suddenly.

"If that's what it takes to get to work." I replied, serious about the answer.

"Ah, Hell no... No worries, Sar... I won't leave you like that, catching a bus or a cab to get to work... Whatcha say after the appointment, we waste some time by going somewhere, and then as soon as we find an open dealership, I'll go get you a car." What the...

"This soon? You have that much money on you right now to go by a car like a candy bar?" It was my turn to have the incredulous tone.

As Brooke reached behind her to the backseat, my eyes followed as she pulled up a black leather duffle bag. Unzipping it, it exposed bricks of C-notes upon C-notes bound in them. My mouth drooped open in amazement at the vast amount of money right before my eyes. How did Brooke get that much money so suddenly? I didn't recall the duffle bag in the car before this point.

"I got lucky." Was all she said.

I knew better than to just settle for that answer, but I just couldn't seem to form any other words to speak. Maybe it was because it was also that it was a possibility. This is Vegas... Gambling Central. She could've gone and won it on several good hands of Black Jack.

"So whatcha say? It'll be a thank you for pulling yourself outta work early for lil' ole me. Any car in the store." Brooke promised as she started the car.

"Are you serious?" Reality could suck even more if this was a dream.

"Very. Now c'mon. Let's go visit this psycho that dragged me outta bed at 1:00 this morning. I'm ready to kill him for that already." Brooke said as she pulled off.

A short drive down the road with several varying turns here and there, and suddenly Brooke came to a sudden stop at a two level building with a teal exterior paint. The bright color repelled against the darkness that surrounded it and I already got a shiver of my own just staring at it. Knowing what was inside didn't help the shiver either, despite the fact that this visit wasn't for me.

"C'mon Brooke." I encouraged softly as I noticed she was frozen there solid.

Grumbling death words under her breath, she reluctantly got outta the car and followed me up the walkway to the door. Getting the door, I allowed her to enter before me and strolled in after her. Searching around the empty foyer, I stared left and right before looking forward toward another door that read, "Family Services". That had to be it.

Guiding Brooke by her shoulder, we entered an office's waiting room to find several people were already in there as well. Was this a habit for the doctor? Making wary eye contact with all of them, particularly one that had a nervous bouncing habit with his right leg, Brooke and I walked to the receptionist's desk to sign in. An elderly woman sat behind the desk and gave us a quaint smile.

"What is your name, and who are you here for?" She asked.

"Brooke Waters for Dr. Dingman." Brooke spoke up softly.

"Dr. Dingman is in with another patient right now, so he might be a couple minutes overdue, but he'll be with you shortly." The receptionist announced.

"Thank you." Brooke said as we walked back into the waiting room.

And the waiting commenced. It was even more monotonous and tedious a task than my case was. But Brooke talking to me about casual matters made it withstandable. She too, had noticed the now pacing man who seemed to be anxious to get in or out of here, and quickly at that. We both kept a sharp eye on him, not knowing his intentions or his mental stability. Brooke and I refused to leave each other alone in the waiting room while that man was pacing the floor. But as I started to drift to sleep, and Brooke's bladder wasn't holding out since it was a half an hour past her appointment, Brooke finally stood up to abandon me, though I wasn't particularly worried about my own health. I knew how to defend myself when I needed to.

Through only my half sleeping eyes, I witnessed the pacing man jostle Brooke in the side a bit too roughly for my liking. Rustling from my sleep and on alert now that I saw the rising anger in Brooke's face, I stood up immediately, ready to intervene when needed.

"Hey! Buddy!" Brooke yelled at the now snickering and pacing man. As he turned around, Brooke landed a right hook right to the man's face which sent him flying backwards into the wall.

The other patients just watched in amusement and cheered them on as the man got back to his feet and made a hasty move to strike back at Brooke. Without a second thought, I reached out and snatched the arm he was going to hit with and twisted it into a painful position. Kicking at the backs of his knees, I forced him down to the ground in a submission. But I forgot that Brooke was still in front of me hopping mad. By the time I figured to get Brooke to back off, she'd already wound up her foot and kicked the subdued man right in the stomach with her boots.

"Brooke!" I barked at her before I yelped as the man threw me off of him in his own rage.

Falling back and watching from my new position on the ground, I watched as he lunged at Brooke with his fist. Rapidly, a full-blown fistfight developed in front of my eyes, as well as the other patients' eyes. Brooke was slamming him against walls while he was trying not to get killed by Brooke as the fight progressed. The man was already bleeding from the face by the time, and now it was Brooke who I had to worry about. Working together with the psychiatrist that had come out from his office, we finally succeeded in getting Brooke off of the man as she sat on his chest and beat on his face repeatedly. As the psychiatrist checked on the nearly unconscious man, I held Brooke back with everything I had, which appeared to be just enough as I almost let her slip through me several times.

"Calm down Brooke! The guy is down! You beat the guy unconscious." I announced to her struggling body.

The psychiatrist called upon several of his colleagues to get the man out of the room and call the paramedics. Once the doctor approached us, I had managed to calm Brooke down some before the doctor spoke up.

"Are you Brooke Waters?" He asked breathlessly now from breaking Brooke up.

"Yeah, what the Hell is it to you?" Brooke barked at the man.

He never offered a word as he passed a small information card to Brooke and retreated. "Forget it. I don't need to sit down and talk to you to find out you have anger problems. Just go to Anger Management. There's my treatment. Now go, please just go before you cause anymore problems." He said as he walked back toward his office.

Leading Brooke out of the office, we were now back out into the foyer and I stared at the sign. "24/7 Anger Management Classes." I read out loud on one of them. "Let's go, Muhammad."

"He deserved it! The prick knew that I was right there, bumped into me and then continued to do it while laughing! People like that need to be taught a lesson, Sara!" Brooke fought her case defensively.

"Sure Brooke. A lesson." I said as I guided her toward the A/M class.

Cracking open the door, we peered in to witness a guy, a grown man, bursting into tears as the other people gave him kind and supportive words to make him feel better. Yes, this was definitely Anger Management. Emotional healing with people you hardly even know.

"It's okay Frank. We know that you didn't truly mean to throw the poodle out the window. Remember, we're here to help you answer your questions of," A woman with a rather nasally speech said to the class who suddenly pitched in. "'Why are we mad and what are we mad at?'"

"Sara... This can't be for real." Brooke asked in horror.

"Unfortunately, I can't lie to you. This is it." I said opening the door a little wider and forcing Brooke to enter with me.

"Ah! Ms. Waters! We were expecting you!" The lady said a bit too cheerfully for my taste.

Brooke gave a confused and slightly frightened look to me. She mouthed the words, How does she know that I'm supposed to be here? I just got sent here a few seconds ago.

I shrugged as an answer and took her to the back of the class and sat down in the desks. I had no problem sliding into mine, but Brooke had some minor difficulties as she squished herself into the seat in a less than comfortable manner.

"So, it seems you were sent here for your uncontrollable rage and conflicted feelings on the inside... So, why don't you stand up and tell us a little bit about yourself, hm?" She asked chipperly.

I watched Brooke's face cringe in distaste of the woman, but it was hardly noticeable. "No thank you. There are other people here that have more serious problems here to deal with than me. I'm fine." Brooke put up a good front.

"Now, now... Denial is the first sign that there's a problem." The woman insisted. "C'mon, just stand up and tell us about yourself."

"No thank you..." Brooke was saying through partly gritted teeth now.

"Ms. Waters. We can't help you deal with your anger if you don't let us." She was just such a persistent woman, wasn't she?

Giving Brooke a warning glare, I watched as she stood up but the desk remained attached to her behind. Squished between the chair and the attached desk, Brooke struggled to remove the desk part of the seat by ripping it off.

"M-Ms. Waters, p-please don't..." The woman tried to calm Brooke down as Brooke continued to pry the desk off the seat.

Finally succeeding in separating the wooden desk from the chair, she tossed it off to the side and kicked the chair along with it. The lady winced with the noisy clattering noise the objects made clashing together and banging against the floor. Once Brooke was assured that the desk no longer restrained her and the teacher wasn't going to talk, she cleared her voice and began to talk.

"I don't have any anger issues here folks. I'm a perfectly happy woman right here. Do you see this face?" Brooke indicated her blank face that now held no expression of either happiness or anger to it. The teacher nodded skittishly. "This is my happy face. And you all..." Brooke indicated the whole classroom. "would be as lucky as I am, to be this happy."

And with that and the speechless class, she promptly left, leaving me to stand up and catch up to her as she walked proudly out of the class as they applauded after her.

As we went back to the car, the applauding classroom still within earshot, I turned to her with a smirk. "I think that went very well, don't you?"

"Indeed, I do. I feel much better now. Can't say the same for the desk though." Brooke said as we left the building.

TBC

A/N2: I know, I know.. This whole chapter was dedicated to just anger management which was only the smallest part of the story, but DAH well. But now, I've got SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO ASK! Really, seriously... I've come across some internal question about the story, and I've decided to leave the decision up to YOU! My plans for the story in future chapters are really going to veer off the original track somewhat, because it'll kinda focus on everyone's lives. And that's really the Action/Adventure part of the story when I go into people's lives, particularly Brooke's. But I was wondering... DO YOU WANT ME TO REVISE THE SUMMARY AND CONTINUE WRITING WHAT I HAD PLANNED OR DID YOU WANT ME TO FOCUS ON THE GSR PART AND WRITE THE ACTION/ADVENTUREY STUFF IN ANOTHER STORY AFTER THIS? I promise that the action/adventurey would satisfy all of you Lady Heather haters. Promise. Because everything ties together in a weird way in my stories. So, PLEASE let me know what you want because I'm tryna make everyone happy. A'ight? Thank you, well now, I'm gonna reply to some reviewers from last chapt.

odeepblue: I'm glad that I've got you mystified as to what my plans are... But as long as you keep reviewing, I'll keep updating. Deal?

anneruhland: Twin Tornados; haha I like that! And you're right, Grissom won't know what happened to him now that Sara has Brooke.

dakota11: OMG do you know how much I laughed when I read your review? "Sara needs to get gangsta on LH and she needs a cool car like Brooke's." Omg that made my day when I read that. Yes, Sara will indeed be acting OOC now that Brooke has come into the picture, and it's a little more than you think. But I'll try to give you as much backstory so that it makes sense why she's like that. And as for the car, hey... Stick around for next chapter. And haha... I'm glad you can imagine younger Sara dancing, because she's gonna show that she's not like that anymore in a few chapts. from now.

forensicsgirl97: Yes, it was a VERY interesting lifestyle for Sara & Brooke. I'm gonna elaborate on that lifestyle as I go, IF PEOPLE RESPOND TO MY QUESTION IN THE ABOVE A/N2! Lol, dunno why I hadta say that, but I just hadta. Oh yeah, and the song? That was "Ain't Nuttin' But A G Thang" by Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre. Awesome song for listening to, dancing to, singing/rapping to... Whatever. It's just all around awesome, like my reviewers!

dark-girl-faith-sidle: If Sara was like this on the show, I think that would make things much more fun, but I have no complaints on Sara Sidle as she is. She's my favorite character! I mean, c'mon, who doesn't love Sara Sidle here? And no, not in that creepy stalker way... Thank you for the reviews, as always.

As well as everyone else out there! They mean everything to me! Okay, now I'll shut up before I ramble on. Keep those reviews coming please! They'll make me very happy! )

Peace out, one love,
MC New York