Title: Grissom's Doll
Summary: Another miniature graced his desk and Sara was nowhere to be found.
Spoilers: Uhm, let's go with pretty much all of season seven, and both parts of A Bullet Runs Through It from season six.
Disclaimer: I'm still bitter about me owning them turning out to be just a dream, so that should tell you I've "got no dog in that fight," to quote Catherine from Leaving Las Vegas. I watched it last night. :D I love that scene with her and Nick; it's so cute! Alas, I don't own anything here.
Author's Note: Alright ladies and gentlemen, THIS IS THE EPIC STORY I PROMISED YOU! I just finished going through it last night, and have worked out everything - I think. I've got a few things to say before we get into it though, so bear with me. First of all, this was originally written back in 2007, BEFORE we knew who the Miniature Killer was. It's not as good as what we were given - not by a long shot - but it's what I wrote, and it's taking up space on my computer so I figured I'd post it. I'm also asking you to forgive some of the details, because I kind of fudged the end of season seven to fit with the story. You'll know what I mean later. Thank you in advance though. :)
I am morally opposed to WIPs, so I am telling you now, this IS completely finished. I'm gonna draw out the posting though, to add to the drama and suspense. Every Tuesday and Friday, look for an update! I promise to be on the ball with it.
This is relevant, I swear. Does anyone else think the way Grissom answered Sara's question in the morgue about vegetation outside the church in the episode Double Cross was eerily similar to when Natalie described the reception area of the cleaning service in Living Doll? It struck me the other day and totally freaked me out. Thoughts?
And last but not least, a great big ginormous thank you to Lauren for editing this. She is absolutely fantastic in every single way you could ever imagine. She is just flippin' perfect. :D She practically co-wrote this with me. I love you Big Me, so very much. THANK YOU!
Now on with the story!
A box.
He stared at it, hoping against hope that what lay within was not what he thought, but was rather certain, it was.
Swearing under his breath, he sliced through the tape on the top of the box and slowly slid it back. Opening it, he found a layer of bubble wrap. With latex-covered fingers, he slowly pulled this back as well. Underneath the layers of tape, plastic, and cardboard, his predicted horror was confirmed.
Another miniature.
Grissom stared at it for the longest time, something nagging in the back of his mind. He knew this scene, he did. But from where, he had no idea.
The miniature room, painted in warm colors, was vaguely familiar. It looked like an apartment or possibly a hotel room, something to that effect; Grissom couldn't definitively pinpoint what or where it could be.
As the start of shift crept up on him, he knew that there would only be one case tonight: the half-inch replica of an unknown murder scene.
OoOoOoOoO
Stepping into the break room carrying the box, Grissom got quite a few odd looks from his coworkers.
"Moving in?" Catherine asked, a smirk playing on her features.
Grissom regarded her with a grave expression, and the smirk died on her lips. Nick, Warrick and Greg looked up, curious.
"Whatcha got there, Bossman?" Greg asked, pouring himself some of the sludge from the coffee pot.
"The only scene tonight," Grissom answered, setting the box down on the table with a weary sigh. "The Miniature Killer strikes again."
Pulling back the flaps and bubble wrap, he revealed the scene to his coworkers.
"Son of a bitch," Catherine said on a breath. "I thought this guy was done."
"What makes you think that the killer is male?" Grissom asked, in full CSI mode.
"What? Oh, nothing in particular, Gil. It's just a figure of speech," Catherine answered with a small but sad smile.
The three other men in the room bent over the box to get a better view. Grissom could see that something was bothering Greg, and asked, "What's on your mind, Greg?"
The young CSI looked up, a bit startled. "It's just…"
Grissom nodded his encouragement to go on.
"It's just… the scene looks kind of familiar, I guess," Greg finished.
Grissom nodded the fact that they had both seemed to recognize the scene was not lost on him. "Good call, Greg. I feel like I recognize the scene as well."
Greg beamed.
Warrick and Nick exchanged looks and a brief nod before turning back to their boss. "Griss," Warrick began.
"We think we recognize the scene as well," Nick finished on a sigh. "But I can't remember for the life of me why that is."
Grissom nodded again, and turned to his second in command. "Catherine?"
The blonde was still staring into the small box. "I don't know… I think I might, but I'm not sure…"
"Well, if anyone, and I mean anyone remembers where this is from, let me know immediately, all right?" Grissom gave them all a look, making sure that they understood.
His team nodded their understanding.
"Okay then. We'll start work on this ASAP. I need to find Sofia and Brass," he started to say, but was stopped by the look of confusion on Catherine's face. "What?"
She looked around the break room, as if trying to confirm something. Finally deciding that she had, she turned her light blue stare to Grissom's darkened one. "Gil," she said quietly, "where's Sara?"
Grissom paled. Shift had started almost half an hour ago, and his beautiful brunette was nowhere in sight. "I don't know," he answered honestly, trying to ignore the growing knot of pain and fear in his gut. "But I'll find her, don't worry."
He slipped out of the room without another word to his coworkers and turned down the hall towards PD.
OoOoOoOoO
Once alone in the hallway, Grissom's mind began to spin. Sara wasn't at work. She hadn't told him that morning that she wasn't coming in, and she hadn't called now. That was not like the Sara he knew and loved, not at all.
He pulled out his cell and dialed her number, but there was no answer. Next on his list was her apartment. Again, no answer. On a ray of hope, he called his townhouse. He had no idea why she would be there, she should be at work, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be able to reach her, but again, there was nothing.
Almost in a near-panic now, Grissom retreated to his office and locked the door behind him. Collapsing into the chair behind his desk, he ran a hand over his face. He was worried about Sara.
Sara was a strong woman; very independent. She rarely ever let him take care of her, and he knew that she was proud of being independent. She depended on herself, and no one else. She did let him dote on her occasionally, but the occasions were few and far between, her need to be independent still set deep in her bones, an unfortunate by-product of all her time alone.
Grissom couldn't shake the feeling that something was just not right. Sara not at work without an explanation? That was something that never happened. Somehow, to him, it felt different, wrong, even. With Sara missing - No, he told himself, she's not missing. She's just, unreachable, and now another miniature…
Oh yeah. Something was definitely wrong.
to be continued...