lynn_fox

Dear readers,

You have been very kind to me over the years. You have left me many wonderful reviews. Some of you have become long distance friends over the years.

I am very thankful for all the people that touched my heart, and all the people whose hearts I got to touch.


However... Time has come for me to move on. Grissom and Sara have both said goodbye to CSI and so will I. Now, you won't find me in the jungle, but if you really have something important to tell me you can reach me at lennekevandervos -at- gmail -dot- com.

Over the coming period I wil gradually remove my work from this website, but don't be sad. The wonderful girls of the fanfictionjunkies archive have moved most -if not all- of my stuff to their website. You can find my page here: http://www.fanfiction-junkies.de/efiction/viewuser.php?uid=404

This does mean that I won't finish my WIP In Blue, unless there is some kind of miracle.

Thank you for the wonderful time, I'm sad to say goodbye.


Hugs,

Lynn

Tomorrow it will be exactly one year after I posted the latest chapter of In Blue. I'm pathetic like that. Fortunately there's no statute of limitations (SO hoping to be using the correct terminology) on WIP's, so this doesn't mean that now all hope is to be lost and IB will never be finished.

I do still intend on finishing, and I've been a bit inspired at the moment, so I hope to be able to continue soon.

A lot has happened in my personal life in the last year and a half. I've become pregnant and have given birth to my third child. I've been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, which in my case often means I start things, then panick, and don't dare pick it up anymore.

I've found out that I'm allergic to, well, everything basically... Chemical particles in the air do the trick, but also things that smell strongly make my nose and throat react, so basically I've been walking around with what seems like the common cold my whole life.

To top it off, I recently found out that I have problems with my thyroid gland. That's actually kind of cute, because the damn thing is butterfly shaped, but apart from that, it's no fun at all. I'm tired 24/7, and anything I eat is immediately turned into fat. So yeah, not so cute...

But I'm taking meds for all of the above and hope to feel a bit better soon.

Thanks to those of you who cared about my writing enough to contact me. You have no idea how much your support means to me.

Hugs,
Lynn

Look at me, see me.
Look at me, save me.
Free me, find me,
'cos if there's somebody for someone,
yeah look at me.

He helped her out of the car and led her into the police station. Well... Actually she led him, striding forward up the stairs, through the doors and halting at the reception.

"Where is he?" she asked the seemingly oblivious receptionist.

"Hi," Grissom swooped in, "this is Sara Sidle and my name is Gil Grissom, we're from the crime lab. You're new here aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," the petite blond woman answered.

"What's your name?"

"Jane. Jane Delmare."

"Okay, Jane," Grissom smiled.

"Would you just hurry up?" Sara hissed at him, distraction forgotten, and anxiety now back in place.

"Jane," Grissom repeated, undisturbed by the jumpy brunette by his side, "Could you page captain Jim Brass for us?"

"Sure mr. Grissom."

With a smile at Grissom and a glare at Sara she got to business.

It was only five minutes -agonizing Sara jumps at everyones throats minutes- before Brass picked them up at the desk and took them over to interrogation.

"We have Jason Daniels in custody," he informed them, "took a while to track him down, he wasn't at home. Some friendly neighbors adviced us to check the Bellagio and the Tangiers. We found him at a roulette table hitting the big ones."

"He's a gambler?" Sara asked.

"He denies he is, as do most gamblers."

Brass led them into the interrogation room and both Grissom and Sara sat down opposite a burly blonde-haired man.

"I'm Gil Grissom and this is my colleague Sara Sidle, we're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I take it you've already met detective Jim Brass... State your name please?" Grissom asked.

"You know my name."

Sara clenched her fist at the provoking coolness of their suspect.

"State your name, wise guy," Brass said.

"Jason Henry Daniels."

The man looked at them with pale blue eyes.

"Will you tell me why I'm here then?"

"I think you know why you're here." Grissom took the crime scene photo's out of his file and shoved them towards Mr. Daniels.

"See, you killed your ex-wife and daughters and when you raped the youngest you left your DNA. Codis gave a hit, because -what-do-you-know?- you've been in prison until last week."

"They're not my daughters."

"You are registered as the father on both birth certificates," Brass said.

"The eldest, the tramp, I'm ashamed to say she's mine."

"Tramp?" Sara hissed, "you call your own daughter a tramp?"

"She was! I tried to beat it out of her, but she kept showing up with guys and my good-for-nothing wife just cheered her on."

"That's why when your wife turned out to be pregnant with your second child you beat the crap out of her?"

"She wasn't pregnant. That little tramp! She got knocked up at 14!"

"You know," Grissom said, "sexual activity at a young age is often caused by a lack of parental love, especially from the father. They seek the love they missed in the arms of another male."

"Thanks for the lesson, Dr. Phil! I fucking told her not to have sex. I forbade her to date and she did not obey my orders!"

"So when you found out she was pregnant you beat the hell out of her and your wife?" Sara wheezed.

"She wanted to fucking keep it! She was a kid herzelf! She should've given that bastard child up for adoption!"

"Your wife was a strong woman, so she called the cops on you and filed for divorce."

"She shouldn't have done that. She should've listened to me. I'm a man, she should've known who was boss."

Sara shot up from her chair, hands firmly placed in front of her.

"So what was it, Mr. Daniels? Beating them up wasn't enough for you? You liked prison so much you decided to commit another crime to be locked away longer? What? What made you kill your wife, daughter and granddaughter?"

A vein twitched in Mr. Daniels' forehead.

"Don't you, fucking call that bastard child my granddaughter, you bitch."

Grissom grabbed Sara's hand which she had subconsciously lifted from the table and brought in front of the suspect, pointing a finger at him.

"Why did you rape the little girl, Mr. Daniels?" he asked with a soft voice while slowly coaxing Sara to sit back down.

"Do you have kids, Mr. Grissom?"

"No, I don't."

"Then you have no idea what it's like when your daughter gets nailed by every guy in the district at the age of 12. She was way too young to have sex. I wanted to make her feel what it's like to have your kid being fucked at too young an age."

Sara turned her face away from the suspect and inhaled deeply. Then she stood up, turned towards the door and walked out.

Grissom found her half an hour later, drinking a cup of coffee on the front steps of the police station. Her eyes red and puffy, her hands shaking.

"I thought you preferred tea?" he softly said.

"Yeah, well.. Sometimes the situation begs for something stronger," she shrugged.

"Mind if I join you?"

Sara nodded vaguely in the general direction of the steps, "sure."

Grissom lowered himself on the warm stone and looked at her.

"I've known you for a while now and I know some cases are harder on you than others. You told me why, last year."

He softly grabbed hold of her hand.

"Sara... Why do I get the feeling you didn't tell me everything?"

Sara just shook her head and stared silently in the distance. She took another sip of her coffee and put the cup on her left.

"I did tell you everything there is to say. It just scares me how much that asshole in there reminds me of my father. I've always hated my mother for doing what she did, but who knows what might have happened to all of us if she hadn't."

"You know..." Grissom said, "I could say that I know how you feel, but I don't. I haven't been there and I am very thankful for that. I could say that you should go talk to a therapist, but you and I both know it won't change anything.
"I know you're hurting and I know you're scared and that that probably won't change. Apart from that... I don't know if there's anything I could say to make it better."

Sara looked at him, a small smile playing around her lips, but her eyes still watery.

"You're sweet, you know that?"

Grissom stared at his shoes and blushed slightly.

"No, really. You don't pretend that you know my feelings and that's a nice change of pace."

Grissom rose to his feet and extended his hand. "Breakfast?"

"Pancakes?"

"With all the syrup you want."

"Hmm.. Sounds like a plan."

They crossed the parking lot and climbed into Grissom's Denali for the third time that evening.

"There's a nice place at the corner of Fairfield and Baltimore," Grissom suggested.

"Then why aren't the wheels rolling yet?"

They were seated across from each other half an hour later, Sara with a large cup of tea, Grissom with a double latte.

"Feeling a bit better now?" he asked her.

Sara shrugged, "a bit. But I keep thinking how different my life would be if my father lived. How much I would've missed out on, how much more he would've hurt my family."

Grissom nodded, taking her hand in his. "Things happen for a reason, I guess."

She wolfed down her breakfast like it was the first thing she ate in weeks.

"Bese paccakes aw belicious," she mumbled with her mouth full, pointing at the remainders of her stack of pancakes.

Grissom, who had ordered bacon and eggs and was only half way, just smiled at her.

He paid for breakfast, held open her door again and drove her home, the perfect gentleman.

On the steps of her apartment building, she turned to face him.

"Grissom?"

"Yes?" His blue eyes sparkled in the morning light.

"Thank you again, for taking my mind off things. The body farm was really great. And thanks for breakfast, that was wonderful."

He nodded. "You're welcome Sara, it was about time that I did something nice."

"You know, you're not that bad."

She stared down at his hands, then looked him in the eye.

"Thanks," she whispered, softly leaning in and hovering above his cheek, "for everything."

The scent of him made her dizzy, no cologne, but just, pure Grissom. Spicy, manly, sweet. The heat was radiating off of his skin and his scruff was softly tickling her nose. She inhaled deeply and then placed a soft kiss on his jaw, breathing out against his skin.

Taking a step back she stared at the ground, whispering, "I'm sorry about that."

"Sara," Grissom sighed.

He wrapped his right arm around her waist, cupping her face with his left hand and guiding his mouth to hers. He captured her gaze and when he saw that Sara slowly closed her eyes, he softly landed his lips on hers.

Sara gasped as her head and stomach started to spin with the sensation of him devouring her mouth.

Grissom sucked on her bottom lip and when she opened her mouth his tongue sought entrance. He tasted pancakes and tea on her, she tasted coffee and bacon on him and to her surprise, wasn't repulsed. His tongue's soft strokes made everything worthwhile.

"God... Sara," he whispered.

TBC

You'll never know the love I felt,
wanting, waiting for you.
It takes a weak heart to forget,
follow, follow it through.

"Grissom!" Sara didn't even have the audacity to pause on the thresh-hold, let alone knock on the door. "You are not going to believe this!"

Her whole body screamed 'furious' when she smacked down the file on Grissom's desk. "The semen came back from DNA, they were from the father! He didn't live there anymore, he and his wife filed for divorce three years ago after she called the cops on him because he had beaten her and the elder daughter. He's been in jail for assault, was released last week. Now the bastard came back to finish the job."

Grissom stared at his desk, then at her before slowly reaching for the file, opening it and taking in the same information she had just shared with him.

"I'll ask Jim to get him in," Grissom said with suppressed anger. "I need you to stay calm, Sara. I want to nail his ass too and we've got him, we've got all the evidence there is to get on him. It's just a matter of formalities now."

Sara leaned on his desk and looked him in the eye.

"Are you calm?"

Grissom took off his glasses and rubbed his face, hoping he could put off answering her long enough for her to give up. No such luck, she was still staring at him intently, waiting for an answer to a question that seemed so simple but was so very intense at this moment.

"No," he sighed, "no I'm not calm."

Sara knew he didn't want to go into details, but his answer wasn't sufficient. She wanted to know he suffered from this case, at least as much as she did. She wanted to know that she wasn't the only one who could get a splitting head ache from watching a life being taken and the anticipation of putting the person that was responsible behind bars.

She wanted to reach out for him, to hold him, to get him to hold her, to touch her, to see her just this once, or maybe forever. It took great effort not to reach out and cup his face, pull him close. That was solely reserved to the nights, in which she could fantasize freely of him being there for her, like he would never be.

The silence fell like a blanket over them, making the world small, just the two of them. Noises from the outside world got muffled, didn't make sense anymore. Where they were it was warm, comfortable and no one could see them, no one could hear them, no one could touch them, reach under the blanket.

It was she, who spoke next, and the blanket lifted before it got too heavy for her to take.

"In time we'll both be alright, right?"

Grissom swallowed and nodded. "We will be, in time."

His phone rung, disturbing their peace when he reached for it and let his gaze leave her face.

"Grissom."

He was quiet while he listened to the person on the other side of the line and once in a while he nodded as if he thought that person could see it.

"I was about to ask you the very same question, so by all means, bring him in. Yes... yes I'll notify Sara."

With that he hung up and told her things would be okay in a short while.

He caught her in the hallway a while later, after she had strolled passed his office for the fifth time in two minutes. She knew she had stuff to do, but right now all she could think about was how and when that son of a bitch would be caught.

"You're coming with me," he whispered in her ear while holding her by her upper arm.

Heat rose in her cheeks due to the sheer lack of space between them and she stared at his hand through her lashes before being whisked off towards the exit.

"Where are we going? Did they catch him? Did Brass call?" she asked.

"You're asking too many questions, Sara. You and I are both pent up, we need something to... release the tension."

Her thoughts drifted to him in her bed and she quickly shook her head to loose that trail of thought. Too good to be true.

He took her not to his bed, but to his car which he drove without telling her where to.

They were driving down the Strip and Sara got more and more curious. The slow hum of the engine was disturbed by her shifting in her chair and tapping her fingers on the window sill.

"So, where are you taking me?"

Grissom smiled faintly. "You'll see."

Sara glared at him, then at the road ahead. By daylight everything in Vegas looked old; the houses, the multitude of casino's, the neon signs, the people, but not Grissom. Grissom looked his every day self, not under the influence of the magnitude of the desert city, undisturbed, peaceful.

They passed the Circus Circus on the left and she wondered how a person like Warrick could have decided to marry there of all places.

"I'd never marry at a drive by chapel," she voiced her thoughts.

"Like Warrick, you mean?"

"You know that Warrick married at a drive by?"

"Yes, the Circus Circus, we just passed that." Grissom shrugged.

"Why, Grissom! You actually do hear stuff people around the lab discuss!"

Grissom smirked, but let the quip slide.

"Seriously though," Sara said, "can you believe that? You just drive in there, drive out five minutes later and you're married. What's the fun in that?"

"Some people may find it convenient."

"When I get married some day, I want it to be great and beautiful. A day to remember."

The car slowed down to a stop in front of a red traffic light and there was silence apart from the slight vibration of the car's engine. Sara looked at Grissom, who in turn was staring up at the traffic light as if his life depended on it. Red sprung to green.

"Me too," he said and the car sped up once again.

Sara stared out the window to her right, a slight grin curving her lips at the thought of Grissom actually thinking about marriage. She doubted he would ever get that far. She'd tried to get him to open up, tried to get him to show his feelings to her, feelings she had no doubt existed, but she hadn't succeeded and after Nick's abduction she had decided to make peace with it and let go.

After passing the Wet 'n Wild water park they turned right onto Sahara Avenue.

"You're not taking me to the mall are you?" Sara asked looking slightly terrified.

"Nope," Grissom answered and after passing the mall, he once again turned right.

"Maryland Parkway? Are we going to the country club?"

"Nope."

"Sunrise hospital?"

Grissom looked at her in confusion. "Why would I take you to a hospital to get your mind of things?"

"Right."

They drove on, making their way down Maryland Parkway.

"You're aware we're going back in the direction of the lab?"

"Yes."

"You just took me for a sight seeing tour of Vegas?"

"Nope."

"We just crossed Flamingo Road!"

"I am aware of that."

When Grissom turned right onto University Road and they entered the grounds of UNLV, he asked, "You're not going to ask if I got lost or anything?" He turned onto a parking lot and parked the car. Before Sara could say anything he had shut off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

"Going back to college is not exactly my idea of fun, Grissom," Sara said while climbing out of the vehicle and closing the door behind her.

"I'm not taking you back to college... I'm taking you to the body farm."

Sara's eyes widened. "The body farm? For real?"

Grissom smiled at her and nodded. "I thought you might like it."

"Are you kidding me? I've always wanted to go there!"

"Then, lets not waste any time, shall we?" Grissom said while placing his hand to the small of her back and guiding her forward. "It's just behind this building."

Sara could barely keep the grin of her face when she felt the heat radiating of his hand and onto the skin of her lower back. The layers of clothing did nothing to keep their body heat separated. Or maybe it was just in her mind and the heat came from inside of her.

They spent nearly two hours between dead bodies and enjoying it for a change.

"It's weird to see all of those dead people lying there and not having to look for evidence," Sara said when they walked back to the car.

"It takes some time getting used to."

"Grissom?"

He turned to look at her. "Yes?"

"Thank you for remembering and for getting my mind off the case. It was liberating."

"You're welcome."

Grissom smiled, really smiled and he didn't do that often. Sara savoured the moment.

His pager started beeping and shortly after, hers followed.

"Brass," Sara stated.

"He's ready," Grissom smiled.

He held the door open for her. "Let's go."

TBC

The daylight's fading slowly,
but time with you is standing still.
I'm waiting for you only,
the slightest touch and I feel week.
I cannot lie,
from you I cannot hide
and I'm losing will to try.
Can't hide it, can't fight it.

The setting sun cast a pink and golden glow on the otherwise clear blue sky and left Sara Sidle marvelling about the beauty of nature while she steered her black Denali through the little traffic that adorned the roads at this hour. Technically shift hadn't started yet, but since swing was already swamped -all the good people were back on graveyard- she hadn't thought twice about coming in early. It was not like she had a decent personal life anyway. Her job was her life and her life was her job. Quality time to her meant listening to the police scanner or catching up on forensic journals.

She once again checked the note she had scribbled down when she had answered the phone. '476 Horizon Ridge - Henderson, 3 DBs'. Course confirmed, the wheels of her SUV rolled over the concrete of Route 515 while she noticed there were 9306 miles recorded on the odometer, many -if not all- work related. A sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders slumped. Life should not be like this, should not feel like this. She was worth so much more. What had happened to her?

When the next exit came near Sara flicked on her blinker and steered her car to the right. She didn't even notice the music on the radio and she was more or less driving on auto pilot. Her thoughts were with Grissom, as they had been almost daily for the last five years. Recently it had gotten worse though. Ever since Nick's abduction she had realized that life was too short to waste, and wasting it was exactly what she was doing at the moment.

The red and blue lights of the police cars weren't cutting through the dark like they always did during her own shift. They seemed odd and out of place in the beautiful scenery provided by the setting sun. She parked her SUV close to the yellow border and fished her field kit out of the back of the car. Luckily the officer present knew her so she had no trouble approaching the white one-story house that had turned from a peaceful home into a crime scene only a little while ago.

The dark wooden floor and cream colored walls gave the interior of the house a warm feeling. Black and white pictures of animals and waterfalls hung on both sides of the spacey hallway adding to the homely atmosphere of the house. She entered an airy living room with large windows on both sides. Two orange sofas stood to her right and to her left she noticed a large glass table. The remainders of dinner were still there. Two plates.

She was greeted by Jim Brass, who was standing next to one of the victims and looked too cheerful for the task at hand.

"Hey. Am I the first one here?" She looked around in search of evidence of one of the other nightshift CSIs beating her there, but she really did appear to be the first one present at the scene.

"Grissom had to wrap up the final paperwork on the drowned kid, he's on his way," Brass informed her.

Sara gave him a brief look and then squatted next to the victim. She hated working a crime scene by herself, especially one with multiple DBs. It just wasn't doable. Irritation set in the pit of her stomach. Always the same, it seemed. She would be called in early and Grissom would be missing in action. Just typical. It wasn't that she didn't like her job. She loved it. It was just that every time she needed him he seemed to be somewhere else.

The young woman at her feet looked no older than sixteen. Her arms were sprawled out and her legs were folded under her at an odd angle. Two bright blue eyes stared up to the heavens where her soul had gone just a few hours ago. Sara's gaze travelled the frame of the victim, taking in every little detail, in hopes of finding a clue as to who smashed the girl's head.

She shook her head slightly as she scanned the surroundings of the body and looked in the general direction from which the victim had probably come.

"Are the other ones down there?" she asked Brass while looking up at him over her shoulder.

He nodded, "Yeah... Not a pretty sight."

"I'm not sure it can get worse than this," Sara said, "she's just a kid."

Brass eyed her carefully.

"She's not the youngest vic, is she?" Sara asked softly.

"Not by far."

If Sara had to name one single thing she hated, it would be children being hurt. Domestic violence in general was pretty bad, but the children, they always suffered. She had to fight not to let her emotions take the best of her. She would have to stay professional to have a good shot at getting whoever did this, behind bars. After Sara had taken pictures of the girl, retrieved some hairs and wrote down the TOD David gave her, she slowly made her way to the back of the house where the bedrooms were.

A woman in her forties was the second victim. Multiple bruises covered her face, a trail of dried blood led from her nose to the pillow her head was lying on. Her eyes were wide, filled with the horror of a person knowing she was about to die.

Sara worked the scene with a self-forced Zen-like calm that took all of her effort and self control. It took all that was in her might to treat this woman as 'just another DB'. She felt for her, maybe even more so than she did for the girl she saw earlier. At least that girl had died fairly quickly. This woman had been through hell before finally being put out of her misery.

She shuddered at the thought of another body, that of a two year old, Brass had told her. Photos, fingernail scrapings, blood samples, small threads. She was almost done when David walked into the room.

"If you're done with this one and the girl in the living room I'll take them back to the morgue."

Sara stood up. "Sure, I'm almost done here. What about the third victim?"

David looked at her with a hint of empathy in his gaze.

"Take your time with her. I'll be back after I take these two away."

Sara nodded, tagged the last piece of evidence she picked off of the dead woman and grabbed her kit. She then looked at Brass, who was leaning casually against the doorpost as if he was about to order a beer.

"You lead the way."

She followed him through the narrow hall past a bathroom. They came to a halt in front of a bright yellow door.

"It's through here, but I have to warn you.. It's one of the ugliest things I've ever seen," Brass told her, a hand on her forearm.

"I'll be fine."

She put on new gloves and carefully turned the door knob. The door swung open quite easily, revealing a scene that could only be described as horrifying. A girl of approximately two years old lay tied to her bed with her throat slid open. Her legs were spread apart and it was obvious that she had been raped. Tears sprang to Sara's eyes at the sight of the helpless, lifeless body dangling from the side of the bed. There was nothing the little girl could have done against her attacker.

Sara fought the bile that rose in her throat. Damn Grissom for sending her out here by herself. She gasped for air, turned around and walked out of the nursery.

"I need some air," she told Brass, who simply nodded and took her outside.

The sun had set in the west, or at least it had as far as she could see. Devoid of the sunlight the night sky was turning a deep shade of blue. A car door slammed somewhere to her right and she turned around only to see Grissom coming at her with a large grin on his face.

"We nailed the brother for the drowning of that six year old boy last night, he confessed to everything."

Sara shot him a wry smile and continued to inhale as much fresh air as her lungs allowed her to take in. It was the only thing she could do to fight the nausea. Well, that and sipping from the bottle of water Brass had handed her earlier.

"So, are you done yet?" Grissom asked, smug look not faltering.

"No Grissom, I am not done yet."

"Then what are you doing outside?"

"You go look for yourself and see if you're still as happy as you are now. I processed two DBs, that of the mother and that of the eldest daughter. The younger daughter is still in there. You go ahead and look, and process and I'll be here until I can go on."

Grissom shot her a confused look before following an officer into the house.

He was back within five minutes, probably equally as white as Sara. It was hard to tell with the red and white flashes intruding.

"I see what you mean," he said, while prying her fingers loose from the water bottle she was holding and taking a sip.

Sara stared at the bottle in amazement.

"I guess we should go back in there huh? Find out who did this to her," she said, voice tinged with resentment.

Grissom nodded. He handed her the bottle and turned towards the door.

They made their way through the house slightly slower than usual, glancing at each other every few seconds to check if everything was still okay. When they got to the little girl's bedroom Sara grabbed her camera and started taking pictures of every little detail. There were ligature marks on the little girls wrists which were obviously to be expected. It was when she was taking a picture of the victim's face when a horrible fact struck her.

"Grissom..." Her voice was barely audible.

When Grissom came to stand next to her she crouched down and pointed at the corner of the girl's eye. A whitish stripe ran from her eye towards the ground.

"She cried."

Sara took a large gulp of air before standing up again and turning towards her supervisor. Grissom was staring at the little girl as though he hadn't really noticed her before now. Then he looked at Sara and sighed before returning to his task.

They collected the last pieces of evidence from the girl before David came and took the body away.

It was nearly two AM when they walked towards their cars, job finally done.

"Are you okay?" Grissom asked while shooting her a sideward glance.

"I'm fine... I will be fine," Sara answered with a determined glare in her eyes.

The feel of Grissom's hand on her shoulder was too much for her. Her knees and hands trembled and she had to fight the tears building in her eyes.

"Are you really?" he whispered.

Tears were streaming down Sara's face before she realized what was happening.

"How can anyone be okay, really?" she asked. "That girl was only two years old and someone raped her and took her life without thinking twice. I can't wait to get the bastard who did this to her and send him to death row. Hell, I'll even stick the needle in myself."

"I remember a time when you said murder is never an option."

"There's murder, and then there's justice."

TBC

I hear your voice
I see you laugh
And if only
You were here
You seem the night
And I the day
But sometime
We’ll walk away


She woke from a dream to realize that she had only slept for two hours. Restless, confusing dreams of Grissom, of her, of butterflies and daisies. Nothing a normal person would dream about, especially not a person that was haunted by nightmares most nights.

A quick shower and a bite to eat didn’t clear her head as much as she had hoped, and her body was still tingling with anticipation by the time she arrived at the crime scene. It had been a long while since anyone had really moved her, and she couldn’t help the slight spring in her step, the skip in her heart beat, even though she felt slightly ridiculous and childish for going crazy over a simple kiss.

Well, nothing ever really was simple with Grissom, now was it?

She worked the scene –breaking and entering- with Greg, for which she was grateful. His quipping and bantering took her mind of Grissom for a while, and the simple –not to mention non-violent- B&E, was a welcome change from the triple homicide that was still freshly embedded in her mind.

This scene was quite obvious and easy though. The burglar had smashed a gift shop’s window, climbed in, took some knickknacks and a pile of gift certificates and left the shop the same way he had entered it. He could, of course have just turned the lock of the front door and leave that way, but apparently this person wasn’t the smartest burglar in the world, or even Vegas.

They were halfway through shift when they were done collecting fingerprints –lots of them- and even some blood from a shard of fragmented window.

“How much do you want to bet that we get a clean hit on AFIS?” Greg asked when they were in the car on the way back.

“I’ll bet you twenty bucks that that is indeed the case, Greg,” came Sara’s response.

He rolled his eyes and glared at her, but she just smirked and focussed on the road.

When they arrived back at the lab, every nightshift CSI was out. They logged the evidence, brought the blood sample to DNA, and made their way to the print lab with two steaming mugs of coffee. Entering the prints into the system wasn’t the boring part. It was waiting for AFIS to find a match that had the power to numb your mind, and suck all life, and will out of you and make you fall asleep with your head on a desk.

Fortunately, Sara had a lot of reading to do, and even if she hadn’t, Greg would have provided enough of a distraction to keep her awake.

While trying to focus on her forensic science magazine, her thoughts once more drifted back to Grissom. Did this morning’s kiss mean anything? Was it the start of something? Had he spent all day thinking about it, like she had?

The green blink on the computer screen only just preceded the knock on the door. When she looked up, her eyes met Warrick’s bright green ones.

“How long have the two of you been stuck here?” he grinned.

Sara stole a quick glance at her watch before answering, “about 1,5 hours, but I guess you are our lucky charm.”

She turned to the computer, but Greg beat her to it.

“I guess this mr. Burrows has some explaining to do,” he said.

“Like why he would rob his brother’s shop.”

Warrick raised his brows. “He robbed his own brother? Dude, that is not cool.”

Sara stood up and grabbed her mug and magazines as Warrick turned to leave.

“Warrick?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen Grissom?”

“He’s still on the scene, sent me back with the body.”

“Thanks.”

She contemplated calling him, to at least be able to talk to him, which would otherwise be impossible this night, but she decided against it. He was most probably busy, and she knew better than to disturb him if that was the case. In stead she spent the last two hours of her shift contacting the PD and trying to verify Jack Burrows’ last known address.

Night was giving way to the bright light of the Nevada sun, when she punched out. Slipping on her sunglasses she realized she hadn’t felt this happy in a long while.

When she got home, she checked her watch and decided that she could call Grissom by now.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Sara,” sounded his tired voice.

“Hey Gris, tough case?”

“Yeah,” he answered gruffly.

“Anything I can do?” her voice was warm and soft as she leaned back on her couch with her phone pressed against her ear.

She could practically hear him shake his head.

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Did you sleep at all today?”

“Not really,” he said.

“Me neither, I kept thinking about what happened this morning.”

“Sara,” Grissom sighed, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this right now.”

She pressed her lips together tightly at the slight disappointment his coldness caused.

“It’s okay, I understand, I’m sorry.”

She inhaled deeply.

“It’s just that I’m too tired right now,” he apologized.

She just nodded.

“Sara?” he asked, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied.

“Good.”

“Grissom?”

“Yes?”

“It’ll be okay, in the end…”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

With that, he hung up.

The difference in their moods struck her as she put her phone down and cried.

TBC (and hopefully a bit sooner this time)

So what is up with me lately? I know, I haven't posted much since like... Okay, ever... But here's a cause that even I want to write for. Those of you who know me, know I'm a fairly chairtable charitable person. I was president for a foundation for Romanian Dogs, I almost always donate to cancer and aids funds...

I'm an active reader/poster in the CSI fandom, especially on the boards of www.yourtaxdollarsatwork.org, and it was on this board that my attention was caught by a cry for help. One of the posters there is trying to collect money for a very good cause: Bet Tzedek Legal Services.

As those of you who have been in trouble with evil neigbors, gas companies that cut you of for no good reason, or even a bad employer, probably know, legal advice and lawyers are dead expensive. Bet Tzedek helps people who are in need of decent legal aid but can't afford it, especially in the Los Angeles Area.

Since my (and probably your) favorite show is shot mostly in LA, it brings it just that tad bit closer to home.

If this poster gets in the top six people with the most donations, her efforts are rewarded by a matching donation by Kevin Bacon's charitable social network SixDegrees.org (just between you and me, who hasn't thought about six degrees of seperation and figured out you actually share a connection with -for example- Jorja Fox or Julia Roberts).

So... Here's my shout out to you guys; please donate! Just give $ 10,- and be done with it. You only have to donate once and it will only take a few minutes of your time.

Here's how it works (this is copy pasted from YTDaW):

IF YOU LIVE IN THE US:
Follow these steps to make a one-time donation of $10 (or more if you'd like) to Bet Tzedek. The link below will take you to my Bet Tzedek "Charity Badge," which tracks the number of donations I have received as well as the total amount of money I have raised. The badge will appear on the left side of your screen. Simply click the orange "Donate" button on my Charity Badge and follow the step-by-step instructions to make your donation. Donations are made through a secure site provided by Network for Good, and 100% of your donation goes to charity. CLICK HERE TO DONATE THROUGH MY CHARITY BADGE (or go to this place.) After you donate, you will receive a receipt via email from Network for Good. If you would like to be eligible for the autographed photo, simply forward that email to ficforgood at hotmail dot com.

IF YOU LIVE OUTSIDE THE US:
International members, unfortunately, can not donate with the way the system is set up (boo!); however, anyone from overseas that can't make a donation can get their name on the gift list by promoting this effort on their personal blog in an unlocked post. If you dedicate a post to my campaign, and link to my charity badge and Geekfiction for Good, send a link to your post to ficforgood at hotmail.com and you might just end up with the photo! If you do not have a blog/livejournal/etc. please send me a PM and we'll come up with something.


See... I now hear you thinking... Autographed photo? She didn't tell me about that! Here's how it works. If you have donated (or, if you're outside the US you have put this topic in a blog/livejourna/etc. like I have) you have to send an email to ficforgood at hotmail dot com, and you are in the running for either a MAGNIFICENT picture of Jorja Fox AND Billy Petersen, including their autographs, OR a signed script of the episode Butterflied of CSI, signed by the man who wrote that episode and is pretty much put up on a pedestal by GSR fans all across the globe; David Rambo.

He's really a very nice guy, David Rambo, replies to emails and all... So he'll even write you a personalized message! Isn't that übersweet? Yeah.. Thought so.

So... You know what to do! Donate!

What? You're still reading? GET OUT OF HERE AND CLICK THE DAMN HOTLINK!

GO! SHOO!

Name 15 things that currently bring you a moment of joy, and tag 5 friends to do the same.

1. Checking on my kittens (baby rats)
2. Writing scripts to be let into film school
3. Writing CSI fanfic
4. Hugging my daughter
5. Talking to my friends on MSN
6. Waiting to see if one of my rats is carrying babies.
7. Eating toast with ketchup and mayonaise
8. Wearing warm sweaters
9. Mathematics
10. Making Sudoku puzzles
11. Listening to Corrs music
12. Playing the Tin Whistle (Silver Strand almost flawless)
13. Lying on my perfect couch
14. Working on my website
15. Riding my horse

Hi everybody!

This is my fic-a-thon entry, which I wrote for userinfofalena84
She wanted a good casefile with a hint of GSR or CWR. Since I already suck at writing casefile I stuck with GSR, which is what I do best.

Her other requests were:

-A brief appearance of Lady Heather or Dr. Lurie (DONE)
-A bit of Judy the receptionise (I wouldn't know how to write her, sorry...)
-Someone had to say something in Italian, 'Pizza' did not count. (DONE)

userinfofalena84 , I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Author: userinfolynn_fox
Written for: userinfofalena84
Rating: I'd go with PG-13, but that's overrated I think...
Pairing: GSR!
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Awwww too bad!
A/N: Thanks to Andy for helping me out with the title, because I suck at that and being my beta!

Love, Lynn

( Threefold )

This is my reaction to an Improv Challenge on UtB. Rules: First sentence and last sentence are provided. Everything else is free game!

The cat stared at Grissom with an evil glare. Stretching his paws while slowly licking its whiskers.

"Are you sure?" Grissom asked.

"Look at how cute he is!"

"I'm really not a cat person." He kept staring at the cat, and the cat kept staring back.

"Just think of him as a very big and hairy bug."

"Not really helping."

The cat looked murderous to him, like he was watching his every move.

"We could give him a general name, like 'Peter',"

"You're kidding right?" Grissom raised a brow.

Half an hour later, Grissom found himself walking out of the pet shop, cat included. When exactly did he concede to this madness?

A low hiss escaped from the cat-carrier.

"Aww... He's afraid! It's okay baby, we're going home now!"

Grissom opened the door of the Denali to be the perfect gentleman to the woman in his life.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at him.

She had the most wonderful eyes. Deep and dark and open and honest. He could stare in them forever, as he now often did.

Times had been different. There had been moments when he denied himself the permission to look in them, afraid there would be no turning back. He had been correct. The instant he stared down into those beautiful deep pools of brown he was lost and he hadn't been able to find the way back ever since.

Not that he wanted to, he was now perfectly comfortable ambling around in the unknown world of love. There had been some disadvantages though, and one of them was now seated in the front seat of his Denali, being cradled by the woman he thought he'd never have to share.

"How do you like Michael?" she asked as soon as he had taken his place behind the steering-wheel.

"Who is Michael?" he answered with evident confusion.

He followed her gaze that was now lovingly fixated on the Cyprian tom cat.

"Oh the cat! Michael? Sure,"

And so it was.

Grissom still was not overly exited by the invasion of his private space. It had been hard for him to open his doors to the loads of furniture Sara had either brought with her or had ordered, but letting the cat take up space in the house was a whole different slice of pizza.

"Hey honey?" he said, "How about some pizza?"

"Sure," Sara answered with a smile.

They drove home, their home, that they had shared for a year now. The cat was a mutual anniversary gift. Of course Grissom could have thought of a few other things to give Sara but seeing her this happy was making his day.

"I always wanted to have a cat," she had said, "because my parents wouldn't allow me to have one. There was not enough money. Well, there was, but not for me."

Grissom distinctly remembered the look on Sara's face when she told him that. The hurt was always there, never fading, something in her eyes which surfaced on certain occasions; an abuse case, an aggressive suspect, a memory.

He looked at her, taking in every inch of her features and studying it carefully. She was so beautiful and yet she didn't have a clue. The ignorance made her that much prettier. It took away all the arrogance most beautiful women seemed to have these days, Catherine being the perfect example. The combination of vulnerability and toughness is what attracted him to Sara in the first place.

She turned her head towards him. "Hi," she spoke softly.

"Hi." He couldn't help smiling.

"What were you thinking about?" she inquired.

"You and how much I love you."

He shut off the engine and leaned towards her. His thumb softly caressed her right cheek while he stared down her brown gates right into her soul. There he was, falling again, losing a grip on reality.

He gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Michael growled.

"I have a feeling he doesn't like me," Grissom said while peering into the cat carrier suspiciously.

"He will, just give it time."

Grissom nodded and opened his door. "I will."

After they released Michael next to his brand new litter box -"That way he'll know where it is."- and watching him discover the place for a while the subject got back to pizza.

"I'll have a medium crunchy thin crust with mushrooms, seafood and cheddar of course," Sara decided.

"Make that a large and I'm in."

Grissom had become used to her vegetarian habits and was now even content with not eating meat every day.

Grissom sat down on the couch while Sara ordered when he suddenly heard some sort of crunchy sound. He looked around to see Michael sharpen his nails on the couch.

"Oh no you don't!" Grissom said, while trying to remove a certain cat's claws from his couch.

Before he knew it the couch was no longer the problem. Michael was lunging for him, mouth agape, teeth bared, claws stretched to the max a rabid madness showing in his eyes. Grissom fought the cat off, being victorious at the third try. The battle left him with scratches on his hands and face.

"You devil cat!" he shouted. "First I almost lose my hearing and now you're trying to rob me of my sight and touch!"

Sara, who had heard the commotion while calling the pizza-place with their order rushed back into the living room to see man and pet staring at each other from opposite sides of the room. You could cut the tension with a knife, hell, a spoon would probably do the trick.

The moment the cat noticed his owner he started purring and quickly made his way over to Sara, circling her legs in an attempt to convince her of his innocence.

"Gris, what did you do to the poor thing?"

"I? No! He..." Grissom managed. "He attacked me!"

"Cat's never attack without a reason! You must have done something to tick him off," Sara said while scratching the cat behind it's ears. "Look at him! There's not an evil fibre in it's being!"

"He's got you fooled Sara. That cat is either the devil, or the reincarnation of some perp I sent to death row."

"Tell me what happened," she insisted.

"He sharpened his claws on the couch and I took him off."

"And?"

"And that's it!" Grissom answered aggravated.

"Okay, let's look at the evidence here. You are all wound up, while he is relaxed as can be. You didn't want him in the first place. I think you've been trying to convince me to bring him back."

"I would never!" Grissom gawked.

"Never mind."

Not sharing another comment they waited for their pizza's to arrive; Grissom mocking on one side of the couch, Sara cuddling Michael on the other side.

'I can not believe this. That is one hypocritical cat!' Grissom thought. 'Trying to win over my lady. Well soon he won't know what hit him. I will fight for my right!'

Comfort settled once again over pizza, or at least for a moment. Grissom was about to sink his teeth into a large slice when Michael approached the scene, keen on having some dinner himself. With a fast slash of his paw he grabbed the slice of pizza from Grissom's hand who, in an attempt to get back his delicious dinner grabbed the culprit by its tail.

"Grissom! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Sara yelled, allowing the cat to get away with it.

"What?" Grissom asked bewildered.

"You NEVER pull a cat by its tail!" she said, both eyes and mouth agape.

"He stole my pizza! I'm sure he had been setting it up ever since I proposed it."

"It's a CAT Grissom and YOU are being paranoid!"

"But... He... He did..."

Silence set once again as both of the two CSI's refused to listen to the other's point of view.

After dinner Grissom grabbed the pizza box and walked towards the kitchen, nearly slipping on something wet.

"Sara!" he roared, "that DAMN CAT peeed all over the kitchen floor!"

"He's new to our home, maybe he hasn't found out how to use the kitty litter yet," she shushed.

"He's after me, I'm telling you!"

"Don't be such a wuss, it's just water, ammonia and a few waste materials."

"You'd be singing a different tune if it had been you who stepped into it! I'm taking a shower." Grissom grumbled.

Sara had the night off, but he would have to be at the office in less than two hours and he wanted to be as clean as he could be before the stench of corpses messed him up all over again.

Washing the dry blood of his arms and nose and the urine of his feet he felt a lot better. When he got out of the shower however he found a certain feline on top of his carefully selected clothes. Not daring to try and get him off -after all, he had been just been cleaned up- he picked a different outfit from his closet.

The cat was eyeing him carefully when he let his towel drop.

"Oh no you don't!" Grissom shouted, while quickly pulling on some briefs and pants. "The boys are off-limits. You stay away from them or I'll make sure the vet takes yours!"

He gave Sara a quick kiss goodbye and made for the office. Driving through traffic he figured that maybe he had been a little too hard on the cat and that he should give him some time to adjust before jumping to conclusions.

Grissom was handing out assignments when Nick and Warrick blankly stared passed him. He turned around to find Sara standing in the doorway, scratches covering every inch of bare flesh. He slowly rose from his seat and walked over to her, noticing the tears in her eyes.

"He.. Uh... He IS evil!" Sara said.

Blood rising in his cheeks Grissom shouted, "Michael is history!"

Grabbing Sara by her arm he paced out of the break room.

Nick and Warrick stared at each other a minute before being able to speak. Eyes widened Warrick gasped, "What was THAT all about?"