Thanks for the comments so far! All mistakes belong to me since I did not have this betaed, but thanks goes out to Jenny for her help in this when I became stuck.

Chapter Two: Doubles

He had woken up alone. It wasn't unusual, just unwanted. The dinner from last night had lasted well into the early hours of the morning, Greg and Sara getting home later than they normally would from work. There hadn't been much said between them, both opting to skip a shower in favor of hitting the bed straight away. Greg wasn't sure how long he had slept, but it obviously had been a while.

Still on his stomach he reached out with his hand, letting it rest on the mattress next to him, noting that it was indeed cold. Sara had gone into work early, either by choice or call-in. Sara wouldn't have bothered to wake him to let him know.

Rolling to his side his eyes sought out the cheap bedside alarm clock, surprised to see that it wasn't as late as he predicted, which was both a good thing, as well as bad. Good because it meant he still had enough time before shift to shower and eat, bad because it meant Sara had probably done neither.

He knew their job was stressful, knew that Sara took it far more seriously than he did, serious enough to the point that she would often put her health at risk. It wasn't until a few nights ago he noticed she had started wearing a belt in order to keep her pants up. That was when he had threatened to approach Grissom about her condition. The fear of being pulled off of any case was enough of a reminder. But even so Greg knew he had to do his part. If he didn't keep an eye on her, she would easily trade a meal or a good night's sleep for a few more hours of work.

With that in mind Greg rolled out of bed, yawning as he entered the bathroom. He noted with a smile the towel on the counter that was halfway folded, and damp to the touch. So Sara had taken a shower after all. Maybe she had also eaten, but Greg didn't dwell on the thought for long, knowing that she most likely had skipped breakfast all together. That was okay though, because if he got into work early enough, they would grab something to eat during one of her breaks.

He was beginning to really miss her. It was hard to remember the last time they really spent an evening together. Work, as well as life in general, continued to get in the way. One of the biggest changes was their new landlord, who was nice but in an awkward way. His latest feat consisted of renovating many of the unused apartments, and renumbering the apartments throughout the entire complex. Since most of the construction happened during the day, the time he and Sara were home, they found it hard to do much of anything.

But Sara was neither the type of person who always wanted to be on the go. She found it relaxing to just head home after a stressing case, and watch a few forensic files, or become lost in a book. Greg could convince her to go out somewhere, but she wasn't as socially outgoing as he was. She preferred some of the quieter aspects of life, and would often entice Greg to spend a romantic evening at home. But lately even that seemed to be a rarity. With Sara pulling more than her fair share of hours she was often tired, and slept most of the time spent at home. Greg could handle it for a little while, but that was about it. The last thing he wanted was an endless string of missed chances and lost causes to parade around their relationship. If it wasn't going to work out, then it just wasn't meant to be, despite how much Greg wanted it.

He arrived there shortly after shift change. The hallways were still crowded as swings filtered out leisurely; the lab at the current moment wasn't pressured by any cases or leads. Greg worked his way through, searching the empty rooms for any sign of Sara. There was no real way to tell if she was here, or perhaps out in the field unless he asked. Since he was not involved in her current case, he had no right nor reason to know her exact whereabouts, although he knew several people that would willingly tell him without second thoughts.

The only problem was of course Ecklie, who up until a few weeks ago tolerated their relationship. The man stated that since things were now back to normal, anything that was said or done between them that was considered even slightly private was supposed to be kept as such. If the head honcho heard that Greg was looking for his girlfriend on company time for an unrelated work matter, the man had warned of dire consequences.

Dire as in separate shifts, and even as far as relieving one, or possibly both of them from work. Greg had protested, angry at the fact that they were being forced to keep their relationship in the dark. Everyone at the lab already knew about their standings, even many of the cops and detectives they often worked with. It was no secret, and no surprise. It was one thing to keep it private, and a complete different to pretend it never existed.

Sara, however, seemed perfectly open to it. It was surprising, despite the fact that she and Greg had already discussed the dos and don'ts at work. He had been reasonably upset at the fact that she would agree without so much of a protest at first. But after spending a good afternoon fuming about her rash decision he came to the conclusion that Sara had actually been right…even if only somewhat. She had tested the limits once, and it had almost cost her her job. Greg knew that wasn't something she was willing to risk once again. And with the amount of publicity the two had acquired and the lack of days they had actually attended they were already considered on the brink of being fired.

It wasn't actually seeing her that led Greg to her whereabouts, but rather the fact that he had heard her, smiling to himself as he recognized the one and only sweet intoxicating laugh that filled the corridors. It was more of a giggle, which, by his standards, was a sweeter sound, since Sara was not the exact person that truly ever giggled. His steps slowed as he approached the room, smiling casually as entered.

The joke, whatever it had been, seemed to die down with his sudden presence, even Sara, with her hand pressed to her mouth, did her best to silence her soft laughter. Jaysen was on the opposite side of the room, one arm draped over an open cabinet as he leaned back against the row of cupboards. There too was a smile across his face, but he remained quiet, his eyes drifting from the laughing brunette to where Greg stood in the doorway.

"I should be going," the young man said suddenly, picking up a small cup from the counter behind him. "New call-out, just came in. You'll be getting the case handout soon."

Greg sidestepped him as he walked by, watching as the man turned back to give a short wave to Sara who replied back with a warm smile. Unable to resist Greg turned back to her, raising a questioning eyebrow. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing," she responded cheekily, turning away from him. She had her own cup, and was refilling it with more coffee. "He just offered some help on my John Doe case, which by the way is no longer a John Doe, but a Wayne Jullian; he was a baggage handler down at the airport. Doc Robbins says that's most likely where he was killed; given the fact his ear drums were shattered post-mortem."

"You had a detective trainee help you on your case?" Greg wondered mildly. "Instead of asking for help from, oh for starters, me? Even Nick maybe? The two of us have been filing cold cases for the last three days and you don't bother even asking us?"

"I didn't ask," Sara stated firmly, frowning. "He offered. He's new around here, doesn't know the town or the lab very well. What did you want me to say? Besides, he found a lead. Jaysen used to fly planes when he was younger, he and his dad. He knows how the system works. According to him, handling baggage can be a rough job, but it wasn't what caused our vic's injuries; they're too severe. The ramps though, not intended for human travel."

Greg nodded solemnly, still irritated at the fact she had gone to an outside source for help before asking him. "You think someone dumped his body on the ramps?"

"That or he got lost," Sara said with a slight smirk, taking a long sip of the heated liquid. "Some of the bruising is perimortem, the rest happened after he died. So it's possible this can all be one big incident."

"Save for the fact of the incriminating GSW in his chest," Greg pointed out mildly. "Guns aren't allowed in the airport."

"The gunshot wound was at least a day old. Robbins found bruising in the wound tract…"

"And if it had been the COD, there wouldn't have been time for the bruises to appear," Greg nodded slowly, understanding the situation then. "It could be possible."

Sara nodded, obviously pleased, moving to gather her things. Greg cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat before we started tonight…"

Her response was a sheepish smile. "Thanks Greg…but I've already eaten."

"Honestly?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow. And here the entire time he had given her little more than complete doubt. He smiled as she nodded, but at the same time felt slightly dissatisfied. He had yet to eat himself, and had hoped to spend the time with her.

"Jaysen took me out," she replied, the statement causing Greg to raise an eyebrow.

"Jaysen took you out?"

Sara nodded, as though it was no real deal, moving to leave the room. Greg kept a steady pace with her, Sara slowing a bit so that they could talk with ease. "Me and Catherine," she continued. "We sort of stuck him with the bill, he didn't have much choice."

"Figures," he muttered, forcing a smile as she looked his way. It didn't seem as bad now, knowing that it had been a group event as opposed to a more…intimate outing, and at the thought Greg wanted to laugh. There was no way he could even consider this new guy…this Jaysen, to be a threat. After everything they had been through, after all that had happened, Greg knew that he could trust Sara…and that she deserved this trust at the very least. He had never been one to doubt her after all. Still it did not cease the bitter disappointment that was building up inside of him.

Sara, if anything, seemed to catch on, coming to a short stop as she watched him. "Why, was there something you wanted to talk about?"

He shook his head after a moment's consideration, the ever pertinent question lingering on his mind. Greg had mulled it over in his head, wondering if he should perhaps ask her today. But standing her now he knew that was a definite no. His answer apparently wasn't satisfying for Sara, who raised an eyebrow in question as she touched his shoulder gently.

Anything she was going to say however was cut off as Grissom rounded the corner, a frown crossing his face once seeing the two CSI's. "Shift started ten minutes ago," he warned the two of him, handing the slip of paper over to Greg.

"I've been here since three," Sara reminded him calmly, moving to make her way around him.

"Where are you going?"

She had come to a stop, frowning as she glanced at the older scientist. After a short pause she waved her reports, and then pointed down the hall. "Trace first, then by that time maybe Wendy will have something ready…why?"

"You have a new case," Grissom corrected her, pointing towards the paper in Greg's hand.

"But I just got a lead on this one…"

Her protests were cut off short as Grissom pointed towards the paper, indicating that he didn't want to hear another word on the matter. Sara was infamous for question authority, most precisely when it worked against her advantage. Greg couldn't help but smile quietly at her, before grinning. "I'll get the keys."

It was well after school hours, but that didn't stop the group of onlookers from gathering. Most were kids, preteens that had opted in skipping the bus in favor for witnessing all that had happened. The police were doing their best to contact parents, but that only seemed to worsen the problem, for the adults tended to be nosier than their own children.

There was little fear, however, throughout the crowd, which was unusual given the situation. One dead student, and a dead mother, their bodies lying in a gruesome display on the front stairs to the entrance of the school. The COD could be distinguished even from afar, the bullet wounds doing a number on both the victims.

Sara closed her eyes, letting the sudden wave of nausea and a discomfort pass before she proceeded under the yellow tape. The girl couldn't have been any older than the age of eight, her blonde hair matted in blood, her body sprawled facedown on the descending stairs. Her purple backpack decorated with flowers hung loosely over one shoulder. Several loose papers had fallen from the unzipped opening, drifting to the ground.

The mother wasn't very old herself. From a general guess Sara would have to say she was in her early twenties, no more than twenty-three years. Her hair looked as though it was once blonde, and yet now it was tinted brown with what seemed to be a cheap brand of dye, the sloppy work able to be seen clearly in the sun. She was laying up further than her daughter, her blue eyes clouded over, and a small blood pool under her head on the lower step.

"Anise Clearbrook, age 22, came to pick up her daughter Cynthia at 1:05 this afternoon. Janitor found them on his cleaning rounds around three," Brass stated monotonously as she approached the scene. "So far we have no witnesses. No one saw or heard anything."

"Suggests the killer may have used a silencer. I mean, gunshots on school grounds would send up a red flag," Sara frowned, kneeling next to the first body. She had to close her eyes as her stomach rolled once more. It was an odd sensation. She wasn't used to feeling this way.

Out of her entire career Sara had been sick maybe a handful of times. She swallowed nervously, forcing the queasiness to dissipate. She couldn't handle this right now; she couldn't afford to lose it. The last time she had gotten sick at a scene was several years back, when she was with Greg up in Oregon. Yet that time didn't really count, considering that it wasn't even a scene they were at. She let out a long breath, bringing the camera up to her face as she took several pictures. Then again it had been this long since having a scene so gruesome. She shivered involuntary when her eyes came in contact with that of the mother's, passing over the still form of the young child.

"They didn't even make it back to the car," Sara said sadly, sitting back on her haunches.

"Where exactly is the car?" Greg wondered, surveying the scene from behind the both of them.

"There are several cars still," Sara started, frowning when Greg cut her off.

"None of them are registered to the vic. All are accounted for from staff working at the school. No one vouches for transporting the victim, but the principal was able to give a detailed description of her car. Says it's a '99 black Honda Civic with a large dent on the front passenger side. Wasn't able to remember a full license plate, but remembers the last three letters being SFG."

"She can remember all of that?" Sara wondered, a skeptical look crossing her face. It was more common for no one to remember anything, than for someone to remember everything. That alone was suspicious.

"Her daughter just had her first child, it matches her initials," Greg muttered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Sara could feel some sympathy for him. Sometimes getting statements out of witnesses was a tiring task; in some cases it wasn't helpful, but it was important to catch the small details in order to fill in the missing gaps. "Plus she states Clearbrook picked up her daughter on a routinely basis, ten minutes late every day. She said Anise seemed overly eager to get her daughter out early today, and didn't give a valid reason. Just said it was personal."

"Maybe she was being chased," Sara put in, moving to her feet. "How long was her daughter enrolled here?"

"About a year," Brass cut in, following up on Sara's idea. "The daughter's in second grade. She transferred from a school in Arizona, I can find out which one when I get back to the office later."

"Check all the vehicles despite the principal's statement. I have a hard time believing this is a car jacking gone bad. You have so many opportunities to swipe a car, why take one in front of a school when kids are present?" Sara voiced, shaking her head slowly.

"Unless they wanted that car," Greg pointed out, but was unsure himself.

"I'll grab the parking lot, you can get her classroom," Sara told Greg softly, bending down to open her kit. She came to a pause when she felt his hand on her back, turning to look at him as he knelt down next to her.

"Are you okay?"

She shivered as his warm breath landed on the back of her neck, and she forced a smile, giving him a nod. "I'll be fine."

Greg gave her a smile in return, letting his hand linger for one second longer before moving away. Sara watched him leave before returning to her task, letting out a solemn sigh. She was still upset that Grissom had pulled her off her previous case, but now she knew why. A single mother and her daughter on the possible run meant a possible domestic violence case. The only thing missing from the picture aside from the car was the husband. And Sara knew that Grissom knew her all to well.

Whoever did this, would pay, and she would be certain of that. After all, helping catch the bad guys was her job, wasn't it?

TBC