Title: A Day in Court
By: lewis771750
Challenge: Virtual Rewind - Bad Weather
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, Jerry and the people at CBS would never be quite this twisted:) But it is all just for fun, honest.
Spoilers: No
Words: 1158
AN: I know it wasn't the challenge, but what the hell, it was fun to use as many of the words as I reasonably could. Hope it isn't too unreadable:)

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"So Miss Sidle, this bricolage of evidence you are presenting to us, explaining the arcana, pointing out the myriad salient points, you expect us to believe that this is sufficient to condemn an innocent man, a good father and loving husband to death? I put it to you that this is all flummery, a waste of your undoubted skills and mental acuity, a tissue of circumstantial evidence given the gloss of respectability by the supernal nature of science and DNA."

Sara looked at the lawyer in front of her with disdain. She'd heard that he liked to try and bamboozle the expert witnesses, had chatted to both Catherine and Grissom about the sorts of tricks he tried to pull, enjoying her tête a tête with Catherine rather more, especially as talk led to kissing and then to bed. He didn't know that she regularly beat Grissom to completing crosswords in their little rivalry, and he certainly didn't have a clue that his tactics might cause a witness to be flustered, but they confused the hell out of most jurors.

"To answer your only question counsellor, it is my job to collect, interpret and present evidence to the court, and to explain it as clearly as possible. I have done the first three parts of that job professionally, and I hope that I have managed to do the last part with the same level of competence. But it is not my job to condemn anyone, it is not my place to worry about the decision that the court reaches, merely to present the evidence that has been collected as clearly and concisely as possible."

Sara sat back, hoping that the ineffectual, overweening, verbose windbag in front of her was finished. She could see the jurors from where she was sat; the nods as she had said that she hoped she had done the explaining clearly were reassuring. She knew she'd done her best, but in some ways this smarmy SOB was right. The evidence was slight, the killer was smart and careful, but over the course of his 15 murders he'd left a little of himself behind at each of them, and finally they had enough to identify a likely killer, get a warrant and as an clincher find evidence of his last three murder scenes in his home. The evidence was tight, this was the right guy, both her gut and her head told her so, but explaining it all had taken a lot of time.

"Ah yes, the gamine protégée of Dr. Grissom and his apotheosis of evidence. I entreat you Miss Sidle, does this man look errant? Do you expect us to believe that not only is he peccant, but that he is in fact a multiple murderer, a murderer of such malordorous reputation that for years to come mothers will use his deeds to scare their children into obedience? Does the imprimatur of the evidence override your human emotions?"

"My feelings are irrelevant to my duties to this court counsellor. The evidence has no agenda. My only agenda is to follow the evidence and determine the person or people that it points to. I have done that, and the evidence clearly points to the accused as the killer."

"Well Miss Sidle, since you seems to be pervicacious on that point, despite your rather trenchant presentation of the facts as you see them, let us move on to consider the relationship between you and one of your fungible colleagues. Is it not the case that you have recently signed the pledge and become teetotal Miss Sidle? And that this happened after you moved into the house of a female co-worker, where you indulge in Sapphic delights in her bed, desporting your relationship before her child?"

"Objection: The witnesses personal life and alleged sexual preference has nothing to do with her competence as a criminalist." Finally the prosecution lawyer stepped into the fray once more. However much the defence lawyer had been attempting to ensorcell the jurors previously his questions had been germane, questioning her opinions about the quality of evidence. Attempting to blacken her reputation like this, that was beyond the bounds of fair play.

"Objection sustained. Miss Sidle, you will not answer that question, counsellor, you would do well to bear in mind that her personal life is just that. She is entitled to lead whatever life she chooses away from work."

Sara could feel a headache coming on, a megrim as the man in front of her would doubtless call it.

"O, dolorous day. Your honour, please let me rephrase part of that question, it is relevant to Miss Sidle and her professional competence?"

The judge nodded, Sara thought she nodded somewhat regretfully, and the pounding in the brunette's head got worse. Here comes the drinking question she thought to herself.

"Miss Sidle I put it to you that you have turned into a teetotaller because you were in danger of becoming an alcoholic, and in fact your drink habit had already interfered with your ability to work, turning up drunk to a crime scene."

The jury gasped, audibly and visibly sat more upright, shocked.

"It is true that I no longer drink counsellor. However you are conflating things to your own ends. My decision to give up drinking is not related to work, but to my private life. As with all criminalists I am required to undergo regular medical check-ups to ensure that I am fit to continue my job, and I have passed them all with flying colours. In fact I passed the latest one only a week ago – it is a matter of public record. Also a matter of record is my work history. I have never turned up incapable at a crime scene or to the laboratory, never been suspended from work for any cause."

The jury relaxed. Stating something so clearly, saying it was all a matter of public record that was OK. They already trusted Sara, didn't like the defence lawyer, if she said she wasn't a drunk and had never been incapable they believed her. Sara's headache retreated a little.

This time the lawyer saw that he had lost the jury, failed to discredit Sara as a witness. With a faint pursing of his lips he turned back to the judge and said "No further questions Your Honour."

The judge went through the formalities of dismissing Sara from the witness stand and she left. As she left the courtroom, rubbing her head, trying to dismiss the headache a pair of arms encircled her waist, a familiar scent of Catherine hit her nostrils, and a pair of lips kissed her on the back of the neck before that voice whispered: "Well done babe, you got the jury right behind you, carried them all the way. He's going down, and a big part of that is you, doing a great job as always. I'm proud of you my love."

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