January 2004

Grissom was the first on the scene that night. He walked through the house, having strapped on protective booties so as not to contaminate any evidence. Hugging the walls he made his way to the body. A young woman found dead in her shower, he was briefed. He shined his flashlight around the room until he happened upon the bathroom.

And there she was. Body in child's pose, a butterfly tattoo exposed, her eyes open: Brown. Brown hair as well, a little longer than shoulder length. Her face rounded, lifeless. Grissom's heart constricted tightly. His hearing went numb—something that hadn't happen since his corrective surgery last year. His breath fell short.

This woman's lifeless face stared back at him and he felt sick. Grissom pushed to his feet and retraced his steps out of the house. He needed to see her.

Upon emerging from the front door, he saw the team standing on the lawn. Brass in tow. The blue and red emergency lights danced on their faces. She turned toward him, feeling his eyes upon her. He didn't feel the relief he thought he would by seeing her stand there.

His eyes were serious laced with intensity. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or past her. She turned to see Brass standing behind her but realized Grissom wasn't looking at Brass either.

Brass stepped forward, "You ready for us?"

"For now, no one enters this house except for CSI." He kept his gaze on her, and she could feel it.

He was keeping her away from the vic and she couldn't understand why. Catherine seemed to agree with his decisions each step of the way and Sara—well she was out of energy for an argument. She continued her shift as the foot solider he was making her out to be.

"You see the vic?" Catherine asked from her seated position on the locker room bench.

"Yeah." Sara smiled sadly, "I took her toe prints..."

"You see her face?"

"No." She lied. She had seen her face. While Sara was check the pipes underneath the house she could hear Grissom and Catherine talk as they investigated the bathroom. Their voices traveled through the pluming, making for a perfect current of their conversation. Sara was an unwitting bystander to the talk that both Grissom and Catherine had thought was private:

"Are you okay, Gil?"

"Fine." His voice small.

"The victim remind you of anyone?"

She couldn't see it but she could just picture the defensive face Grissom would put on until she was proved wrong by his next words,

"I know." He seemed sad, distracted.

"You should take a break."

"I can't... I—I just can't ."

"She's alive and well. You saw her outside."

Then their voices became muffled realizing they had walked out to the bedroom.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought it was you on that slab." Catherine spoke candidly, pulling Sara out of her thoughts.

"Just—if you see Grissom, will you tell him about the toe prints?"

Catherine nodded. This case felt different to her. They had seen much sadder cases in their time. On all accounts, this one shouldn't have been anything special, just another double homicide by a killer with a knack for clean up. But Grissom's reaction to seeing the victim changed the whole tone of the case. And even if Sara hasn't seen the vic, Catherine thought to herself, she obviously knew something was up. Grissom and Sara's sad demeanors were chilling.

Sara got wind of the interrogation that was taking place between Grissom, Brass and the suspect, Dr. Lurie. She made her way to PD to listen in, catching just the end of the interrogation:

"It's sad isn't it doc? Guys like us? Couple of middle aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we touch other people is when we're wearing out latex gloves." He paused sadly, "We wake up one day and we realize for 50 years we haven't really lived at all. Then all of a sudden...we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up—somebody we could care about."

Sara instantly realized she was the subject of Grissom's musings.

"She offers us a new life with her. But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've ever worked for to have her. I couldn't do it. But you did. You risked it all. And she showed you a wonderful life didn't she? But then she took it away and gave it to somebody else and you were lost. So you took her life. You killed them both, and now you have nothing."

"I'm still here."

"Are you?"

Dr. Lurie and his attorney exited the interrogation room. Sara watched as Grissom let out a defeated sigh, hanging his head low as he slumped further into his chair. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes but she willed them away. She watched as Grissom stood to leave the interrogation room. His shoulders still slumped. He look tired.

"Sara."

She turned to face him.

"How long have you been there?"

"Just got here, I thought I'd catch the interrogation, but it looked like you were already through when I arrived." Her second lie of the day.

He nodded and she could see the relief wash over him.

"You look tired." She smiled warmly as she moved toward him. "You should get some rest." They walked together out of PD.

As they walked out she replayed what she had just heard in her head. At first she was angry and hurt she wasn't worth the risk. But then she thought about the tenses used I couldn't do it. But can he now? The smallest of hopes caused a small pursed smile to form on her lips. She would be patient. She decided. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, she knew that he needed to come into findings on his own. Not be pushed toward the right direction. So she'd leave clues, little pieces of evidence and one day hope that he could pull his head out of the microscope and connect the dots.

She would be patient.