Title : Aftershocks
Author : Melanie
Summary : Hidden Truths Chapter 10. More obstacles arise as Catherine and Sara try to settle back into life in Vegas. And a new case is rather unsettling.
Pairing: Sara/Catherine.
Timeline : Okay, now this is important. gij (who rocks btw – go read her fic ) pointed out a lot of great things to me that I needed to twiddle with, but most importantly that this installment is set about a month and a half after C+S have returned to Vegas from San Francisco and since I haven’t found a way to make this very clear in the story they’ve also been doing their best to avoid dealing with the reasons and motivations for Sara’s leaving in the first place and its ramifications not only for her but for Catherine as well and it’s about to snowball and bite them both in the ass.
Disclaimer : I’m just borrowing. All characters and everything else CSI belongs to Zuiker, Bruckheimer and CBS. Please don’t sue. I’ve heard it’s impossible to get blood from a stone…
Rating : NC17 for very mild ‘bondage’, biting, language, and reference to incest. You have been warned.
Feedback : Goes here : Fivebyfive13@prodigy.net
Author’s Note : If you’re reading this right now, I want to thank you for waiting the two months for me to get my shit together and continue the series. Saying that I need to thank Mary a whole bunch for giving me the ‘Shay the lab tech and Sara subplot’ and Shatterpath for giving me the ‘let Catherine loose’ advice. This is my first remotely graphic C/S sex scene, I hope it translates well. This is as yet un-beta’d and still a little rough around the edges. In any event, I hope it is much enjoyed. The lyrics are from Yellowcard’s ‘Rough Draft’ because that’s how I tend to view Sara’s character a lot of the time -- as a rough draft…someone still learning and feeling herself out. Anyway…Happy Holidays to all.

“I'm finding my own words, my own little stage
my own epic drama, my own scripted page
I'll send you the rough draft, I'll seal it with tears
Maybe you'll read it and I'll reappear
From the start it was shaky and the characters rash,
A nice setting for heartache where emotions come last
All I have deep inside, to overcome this desire
are friendly intentions and fair-weather smiles.”
 
 
 

“Christ, this floor is cold,” Sara fell onto her back, the thin material of her
shirt doing nothing to fight off the biting coolness of the hard tile she was
now lying on.

“Shut up,” Catherine instructed with a small grin, crawling on top of Sara and
crushing their lips together to emphasize her point.

Catherine lowered herself onto Sara completely, their lips still tangled in a
seriously demanding kiss, and slid a leg in between the brunette’s.  Hands
braced on either side of Sara’s body, Catherine pushed her tongue past willing
lips and took command of the kiss devouring Sara’s mouth with rapid intensity.  
Sara squirmed beneath her as the blonde applied the first small pressure to
Sara’s sex, feeling the heat easily even through the rough material of both
pairs of their jeans.  The kiss broke, Sara pulling back only inches, mouth
open, eyes hooded and burning with desire and want as Catherine’s strong thigh
rocked against her.

Breathing quickly becoming heavy and difficult, eyes locked with Catherine’s,
Sara continued to move her hips against Catherine, blonde hair falling around
her face like a halo.   Sara raised her arms to Catherine’s shoulders, desperate
to hold onto something as she felt herself beginning to spin out of control, but
the blonde caught her wrists in either hand and slammed them down onto the floor
on either side of Sara’s head.  Catherine held Sara’s wrists firmly against the
floor as she leaned forward to claim hot, warm lips before moving further down
to throat, neck, and finally up and around to soft earlobe.  Sara pressed
forward with her hands and arms, but was met with concrete resistance as
Catherine forced her arms back down and held onto control of Sara…control of the
situation.

Catherine felt Sara’s body tense uncomfortably and she let up on her grip
slightly, a sign that she noticed, and understood but also that she needed it to
be this way…that Catherine needed to be in control, needed for Sara to give her
that and trust her with it.  Catherine’s leg stilled, her tongue trailing over
Sara’s ear, teeth catching her earlobe and pulling hard.  She could feel Sara’s
breathing coming faster, the heat between them rising, but still the brunette
hadn’t relaxed.  Pushing up against Sara’s hands and twining their fingers
together, Catherine pulled back just enough to regard the hunger, need, and
nervousness in the brunette’s eyes.   Her resistance wasn’t with Catherine, it
was with herself.   Sara wanted this, to give Catherine everything and anything,
but somewhere inside she was fighting it.

“Do you trust me?” Catherine said in a low whisper, breath hot on Sara’s face,
hands warm and soft in her own.   She held Sara’s telling eyes and waited for
permission, assurance.

“Always,” Sara answered without even having to think, her body starting to relax
as she lost herself in Catherine’s gentle consideration.

“I need this,” Catherine’s voice was thick with desire, everything inside slowly
starting to boil over.

“I know,” Sara said, body finally at ease and melting into Catherine’s as the
blonde held her eyes and slowly unbuttoned Sara’s shirt with one hand.

Sara’s eyes instinctively closed, teeth biting down hard on her bottom lip as
her shirt fell open and Catherine’s hand trailed up her abdomen, in between her
breasts and up around her neck before trailing back down to her midsection
again.  Sara’s choice not to wear a bra that day suited Catherine just fine as
she leaned down and took an already taut nipple in her mouth, rolling her tongue
over it before seizing it with her teeth and biting and pulling at the same
time.  Sara arched into her touch, a deep moan rising from the back of her
throat as Catherine continued pulling for a split second longer before turning
her attention to Sara’s other breast.

“Everything I have, Catherine, is yours,” Sara breathed as the blonde continued
to mark her entire upper body with lips, teeth, and tongue.

Catherine squeezed the hand she still had in her own briefly and attached her
lips to Sara’s as she reached down the length of her body and pulled Sara’s belt
apart with one hand, the brunette’s hips instinctively moving under her fleeting
touch.   Sara was ready; Catherine could feel it in the way Sara’s body moved
under her hands, in the way she was being kissed so breathlessly, so
desperately.   Instead of reaching for the button of Sara’s jeans, Catherine
instead pulled on her belt.  Impeded by Sara’s weight still leaning on the
leather strip, Catherine released Sara’s hand for a moment and rolled on top of
the brunette until she was straddling her waist.  Sara’s eyes opened to regard
Catherine as she used both hands to remove the brown leather belt.  

Catherine bit her lip as she tried to contain the desire flooding inside of her,
Sara’s hands finding her thighs and caressing them momentarily before moving
higher and underneath her shirt to the soft, warm flesh of her stomach.  After
pulling the free end of the belt back through the buckle a few inches, Catherine
took Sara’s hands from underneath her shirt and fell forward.   Her lips
connected with Sara’s in a deep, heated kiss as she raised Sara’s hands above
her head.  Sara only had a second to realize what was happening and couldn’t
help the small intake of breath or strangled moan as Catherine slipped the belt
around her wrists and pulled it tight, Sara’s hands now trapped above her head
against the floor.

Catherine pulled back slowly, seductive smile gracing her features, and ran her
hands through Sara’s hair and down the sides of her face tenderly.  She leaned
down and kissed Sara’s forehead, each closed eyelid, the corners of her mouth,
and then finally soft, swollen lips. 

“Relax,” Catherine whispered close to Sara’s ear as she kissed a light trail
down her neck and stopped to drag her teeth along the soft skin just below the
brunette’s ear, biting down and feeling Sara’s body leaning into her own,
seeking it out.

Sara eased into Catherine’s touch as she felt one hand twining with the fingers
above her head and the other falling near her bellybutton, nails scraping
lightly against the baby soft skin there.   In seconds, Catherine was past the
button of Sara’s jeans, zipper ripped apart, fingers sliding inside Sara’s heat
easily.   Sara’s hips met Catherine halfway, as fingers teased at first and then
slid into an even rhythm increasing as Sara’s need did.   Catherine leaned her
forehead against Sara’s, their breath mingling but lips not touching, as she
watched the expression on the brunette’s face linger somewhere between pleasure
and pain.   Using the heel of her hand, Catherine pressed against the apex of
Sara’s burning desire as her fingers continued their relentless assault, Sara’s
breath coming faster and harder with every passing second.   Watching Sara’s
face and feeling her body for a change, Catherine knew she was close when Sara’s
hand clenched around her own, fingernails digging into her skin hard enough to
leave deep red marks.

“You have no idea just how amazing you are,” Catherine breathed, tongue darting
out to trail the outline of Sara’s parted lips, hand stilling in Sara’s pants,
fingers sliding out. It was another part of the control.  Catherine decided when
and how Sara’s pleasure would be carried out…it was power…it was trust.   Not
unlike when she was dancing.  She held all the cards.  Called all the shots.

Sara’s body was tense, having been brought to the edge and dangled over it only
to be pulled back at the last second.   Catherine smiled as she saw Sara’s jaw
clenched, her eyes opening with fire behind them.  She kissed Sara long and
hard, biting her bottom lip and leaving her mark behind as she slid down the
brunette’s exposed torso.   Catherine’s hand trailed out of Sara’s, down the
side of her face, finger dipping into the warm cocoon of Sara’s mouth, hot
tongue trailing around it, as blonde hair fell around Sara’s abdomen,
Catherine’s tongue delving into her bellybutton. 

Using both hands, Catherine quickly removed Sara’s pants and sexy black
underwear and dropped them in a pile on the floor.   Finally Catherine’s mouth
searched out where her fingers were just moments before, Sara’s hips learning
the motion and following it.   Catherine looked up to see Sara’s head thrown
back, back arched into her skilled touch, shirt open and falling around her
sides, arms still raised above her head.  She locked her eyes on Sara’s writhing
body, Catherine’s hands coming to rest on Sara’s abdomen as her muscles began to
tense and flex, a delightful shiver making its way through her body as her final
release swept over her like a tidal wave that was as relentless as it was vast.

Sara came with Catherine’s name on her lips, hands clenching around each other,
hips bucking forward against Catherine’s mouth, one foot raising and slamming
onto the kitchen floor so hard it sent shattered splinters of ceramic tile off
in every direction.  Her body began to still, Catherine’s hands caressing the
exposed skin of her abdomen and moving higher up as she crawled back up Sara’s
body and released her hands, noticing the dark red marks that were already
apparent on her wrists.  Sara rolled easily into Catherine’s waiting arms, her
head tucked neatly under the blonde’s chin as she struggled to catch her breath
and get her body under control.

“Fuck, Catherine,” Sara breathed, eyes shut tight, reveling into the moment. 
Catherine chuckled softly, licking her lips and tasting Sara on her mouth,
everywhere inside of her.

“I know,” Catherine answered softly, running her hands over Sara’s back and up
through her hair.

Sara leaned back and kissed Catherine leisurely, tongues dancing, no longer
dueling for dominance.  She tried to plant her feet for leverage to roll
Catherine onto her back, but her left foot slipped on something jagged and she
hissed in pain.   They broke the kiss and both looked down the length of Sara’s
body to see that while she was lost in the momentary abandon of wild passion
Sara had in fact smashed an entire kitchen floor tile into a million tiny
fragments that were now scattered all over the floor like a fine dust…except for
the piece that had cut into her foot and was now leaving tiny blood droplets
within all that powder.

“Oops,” Catherine smiled and had to laugh as she saw the look of horror cross
Sara’s face. 

Catherine leaned back on her elbows as Sara ignored the cut on her foot and went
straight to assess the damage to the floor, buttoning her shirt on the way.

“Normally, I’d be giggling right along with you,” she said with a small smile as
she noticed Catherine frown at the word ‘giggling’.  

“I do not giggle,” Catherine warned.

“Right,” Sara smiled.

“Don’t make me tie you up again,” the blonde’s eyes narrowed, eyes reaching for
the discarded belt once again.

“You do that to me again and there’s no way I’m going to make it into work
later,” Sara smiled wider.   “And you know I’m already on Grissom’s shitlist for
ignoring his pages last week.”

“You were indisposed.”

“I didn’t think that telling him I was busy with my hands in your pants would do
much to help my case.”

“Yeah, he is rather stuffy,” Catherine smiled.  “Is it bad?” she asked,
referring to the tile and Sara’s foot.

“Only in the sense that it’s completely fucking broken,” Sara shrugged and sat
back on her knees, sighing and forgetting her cut which was only a scrape
anyway.

Catherine poked at her with a sock covered foot.   “Hey, we’ll fix it.  Don’t
worry.  It’s not a big deal.”

“It wouldn’t be if my lease wasn’t up next week,” Sara explained.  “I’ll have to
stop by the hardware store on my way to work and fix it when I come home.   I
mean, who the fuck’s gonna rent to me again when I keep getting the neighbors
murdered by serial killers and smashing holes in the kitchen floor?”

“Here.  Now,” Catherine commanded, using both feet to hook around Sara’s waist
and pull her down on top of her.  Sara ran her hands through Catherine’s hair
where it splayed around her head on the floor.   “Serial killer, not your fault.
You know that,” Catherine locked her arms around Sara’s waist and held her
close.  “As for the floor, you buy some new tile and cement the bastard in,” she
paused and smiled a small smile, “and never invite your rowdy, sex crazed
girlfriend over again, and you’re all set.”

“I’d rather get evicted,” Sara kissed her gently in response.

“There is another alternative,” Catherine said without even realizing she was
speaking at all.  “Move in with me.”

“What?” Sara’s surprise was evident.

“Move in with me,” Catherine reiterated, feeling a little confused and taken
aback by Sara’s silence and shocked expression.

********************

Sara managed to avoid the proposal and any subsequent questions and answers by
using skilled hands and lips to keep Catherine busy until it was time for them
to part ways for the day.   Their goodbye was a bit hurried and awkward, but
warm and sweet nonetheless.  Catherine didn’t bring up the issue again and
neither did Sara.  She was still mulling it over in her mind as she stood in
front of the tile section in the hardware store and held up two different
candidates before her eyes, one in either hand.  For the life of her, Sara
couldn’t remember if her kitchen floor was tiled in seafoam green or oasis
green.  She closed her eyes and tried to visualize her apartment, scanning
towards the kitchen.  But all she saw was green.   Just green.  It was hopeless.

“Definitely seafoam,” a voice came from behind her and trailed off towards her
right side.  “Because it’s all hard and dark towards the edges, but once you hit
the center it’s warm and harmless.  Not much unlike you.”

Sara thought the voice was slightly familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.  She
opened her eyes and turned her head to the right to be met by smooth mocha skin,
perfectly raised cheekbones, thick black hair, and a pair of sparkling azure
eyes that rivaled Catherine’s own.  Sara knew at that moment that if she wasn’t
completely happy in bliss with Catherine she would have been in a whole lot of
trouble.   Full lips smiled at her warmly, invitingly.

“Shay,” Sara nodded and smiled back.   “Hey.”

“Hey, Sara.”

“I didn’t know you lived around here.”

“Yeah, just moved into the area last week,” Shay answered, shifting the paint
bucket she was holding so that it was cradled in one arm.   She used her free
hand to brush the hair from her eyes and saw Sara eyeing the bucket.  “Ran out
of paint,” she explained.

“Midnight sky,” Sara read from the top of canister.  “Great color.”

“Bedroom,” the other woman smiled.

“Great bedroom color,” Sara smiled back, met her eyes.   “Sultry.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for.”

“We’ve missed seeing you around the lab,” Sara shifted her gaze back to the tile
samples, oblivious to the deep blush that started to flush across the shorter
woman’s cheeks.

“Yeah, Ecklie being the prick that he is, snagged me right after I did the knife
analysis for you and Warrick on that inside job case,” Shay shifted closer,
looking over Sara’s arm at the tile samples and acting like that’s what she was
really interested in.   Sara didn’t even notice the eyes dragging over her
profile leisurely.   “Gotta tell you I miss you guys too.   Paulson and Roman
from dayshift aren’t nearly as easy on the eyes as you.”

“What, beer guts and receding hairlines don’t do it for you?” Sara commented
with a crooked smile.

“Men in general don’t really do it for me,” the other woman answered and took a
small step back to read Sara’s reaction.

“I hear that,” Sara answered with a nod and smile.   “So seafoam, you think?”
she turned toward the widely grinning lab tech.  “Although you’ve never been in
my apartment so you’d have even less of an idea of what my kitchen floor looks
like then even I seem to have right now.”

“Now that’s something I wouldn’t mind changing,” Shay raised an eyebrow in a
sort of challenge, lips curving in a beautiful smile.

Sara smiled shyly in response, not quite sure how to take that comment or how to
react to it.  Her mind seemed to automatically revert back to thinking of
Catherine and the idea of moving in with her…not understanding why she was
suddenly so indecisive about it even though it was what Sara had secretly been
hoping for ever since the first night they kissed.   She was just about to drag
her mind back to the current situation when her pager broke the silence first.

“Sorry,” she laughed a bit, smiled, and checked the small device attached to her
waist.  “Always on the clock it seems,” Sara had just clipped the pager back to
her belt and grabbed a box of seafoam tile from the shelf when the thing went
off shrieking again.  She reached for her waist.  A delicate, perfectly
manicured hand reached out to stop her.  Shay’s touch was warm, almost electric.

“It’s mine,” she said softly and clicked off her own pager.  “Looks like that
goes for both of us,” she smiled as she checked the message.   “Must be some big
ass case to be calling everyone in.”

Sara smiled widely.  “My favorite kind,” she said and tucked her tile under one
arm, reaching out with other to grab Shay’s paint bucket.  “Let me get that for
you,” she offered with a wink as they headed toward the checkout.


They parted ways in the parking lot, Sara fumbling with her keys before managing
to make it into her car.   She tossed the tile onto the passenger floor and was
sitting back up when a tapping on her window startled her.   Hand already
reaching for her firearm, Sara had to shake her head and laugh at herself as she
saw the recently familiar blue eyes peering at her through the glass.  She
rolled down the window.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Shay grimaced, then softened when she saw Sara
begin to smile.

“No problem,” Sara waved her off.   “You forget how to get to CSI?” she joked.

“Actually, my battery’s dead.   I was hoping you could give me a lift?” well
defined eyebrows raised in inquiry.

“Sure,” Sara nodded and motioned to the passenger side door.  “Hop in.”

********************

“So I just blurted it out,” Catherine told Warrick as they waited near the DNA
lab for the others to show up.

“And what did she say?” he asked.

“Nothing.  She just stared at me for a couple of minutes and then we got kind of
distracted,” Catherine shook her head and ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m sure it’s all good,” Warrick assured her, placing a warm hand on her
shoulder and squeezing.   “This is commitment-phobe, abandonment-issue,
trust-no-one Sara we’re talking about here.  She probably just got a little
freaked at the prospect of the spontaneity of it all.   Have you seen her day
planner?  The margins of the margins are completely filled in with scribbles.  
She’s all about control, Cath.  You of all people should know that.”

“I know,” Catherine nodded and leaned against Warrick’s sturdy frame, comforted
by the strength in which he enveloped her.   “I’m blowing it out of proportion.”

“Just give her some time,” he said softly.   “We’ve all seen you two together
and it’s obvious how she feels about you.  I’d bank on the fact that she wants
this, but she just won’t admit to herself that she needs you that much.”

“Who needs who how what?” Greg emerged from the DNA lab with a cup of coffee, a
wide sparkling smile, and Nick’s hand attached to the back of his neck in a
pinch hold.

“What?” Nick, Catherine, and Warrick all said at the same time with the same
dumbfounded expression on their faces that only Greg could inspire.

“Nothing,” Greg chuckled to himself and exhaled slowly as Nick released him and
leaned up against the closed door, arms crossed over his finely detailed chest.

Warrick gave Catherine one last squeeze and she smiled at him gratefully before
stepping away.  He touched her arm gently, keeping her attention.

“You’re the one.  Deep down you know it,” he said seriously and let his hand
fall away.

“Who’s the one?” Greg asked, he and Nick more than a little confused, but Nick
smartly staying out of it.

“Can it, Opie,” Warrick warned and playfully pushed at Greg’s forehead, knocking
him back a few steps.

“You want some of this?” Greg recovered and stepped forward in his best Karate
Kid crane kick fighting stance.

“No thanks,” Warrick stepped back and leaned against the door next to Nick.

“That’s what I thought,” Greg straightened out his lab coat, seeing Nick smirk
and shake his head out of the corner of his eye.   Greg smiled shyly and stared
down into the depths of his coffee.

Catherine’s eyes shot up as she heard the double doors fly open, hoping to see
Sara walking through them.   Although what she saw wasn’t quite the way she
expected it to be. Sara did come walking through the doors…only she had a
beautiful young woman by her side and they were talking and laughing about
something.   Sara was smiling.  The other woman was smiling…and putting her hand
on Sara’s arm.   Sara wasn’t shrugging it off.  She was smiling wider, laughing
more heartily.   It all seemed to be going in slow motion.   Catherine could
feel her blood pressure rising, anger creeping.   She thought her head might
explode.

Sara came to stand next to her, hand briefly gliding down Catherine’s leather
clad arm.  Either it was cold outside or Sara was blushing.   Catherine’s eyes
darted to Sara and to the woman standing next to her and then back again,
suspicions and jealousy flooding her mind.   Someone was speaking, but she
couldn’t hear anything but the voice inside her head screaming at her that
something was up.

“Catherine?  You okay?” Sara’s hand was on her arm again, this time longer and
applying more pressure to get her attention.

“Uh, yeah fine,” Catherine shook herself out of her musings and placed a
territorial hand on Sara’s lower back, shooting the death glare at the woman she
now recognized as a former lab tech.

“You remember Shay Morris,” Sara motioned to the dark skinned woman to her side.

“Right,” Catherine nodded, holding the woman’s eyes in a dead lock stare and
pulling Sara closer to her so there wasn’t room to slide a piece of paper in
between them.   “Morris.”

“Willows,” cool blue eyes held Catherine’s just as fiercely, small playful smile
evident as eyes darted to Catherine’s protective hold on Sara and back to the
blonde’s cold expression.

“I thought you transferred to days,” Warrick entered the conversation.

“Good to see you too, Warrick,” Shay turned her gaze to him, batted her
eyelashes a little.  Ah, the sport of flirting.  She was good at it.  “I did.  
Got a page about the same time as Sara.   I figured super-ass Sanders called in
sick or something,” she directed at Greg.

“Listen baby, I told you it was fine to call me that when I have a handful of
your hair in my fist,” Greg countered with a sly grin.  “But I’d appreciate it
if you’d keep our little bedroom love coos out of the workplace.”

“In your dreams, lackey,” Shay smiled widely in response.

“Feisty,” Greg grinned wider.   “Just like I remember you.”

Catherine watched as all three men dragged their eyes up and down Shay Morris’
tight, curvy in all the right places frame.  They were looking at her like she
was dinner and they were all starving.   They never looked at her like that. 
Catherine was about to choke on her bitterness when it dawned on her that Shay
had said she and Sara were together even before they had come in together.  
They hadn’t just met up in the lobby or something.

“You were with her when your pager went off?” Catherine turned accusing eyes on
Sara.

“We met in the hardware store of all places,” Sara nodded, oblivious to
Catherine’s rage filled glance.   “See I was picking up the replacement tile and
Shay was picking up paint and then our pagers went off and I was in my car and
there was a tap on the window and she needed a ride so I gave her one…” Sara
babbled relentlessly as she tried in vain to explain the situation.

“I’ll bet you did,” Greg rocked on his heels and grinned.   The back of Nick’s
hand connected firmly with Greg’s chest just as four sets of eyes turned to
glare at him.   He backed up and hung his head.

“Where were you?” Sara asked Catherine.

“Took Lindsey to the cemetery to visit Eddie,” Catherine explained.

“How’s that going?” Sara asked with concern and ran a hand through Catherine’s
hair gently, not even thinking twice about where they were or who was watching.

“Good, considering,” she answered.

“Which means?” Sara raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s talk about it later, huh?” Catherine avoided the question and stepped
away from Sara’s touch.  

“Anybody know why we’re all here?” Shay asked, changing the subject.

“Still waiting for Grissom to show with the info,” Nick spoke for the first
time.

“Well, I should get up to trace and see where exactly it is that they need me,”
the young woman smiled at the boys, lingering on Greg.  “Round two later,
Sanders.   Count on it.”

“Looking forward to it,” he replied.

“Sara, thanks for the ride,” Shay stepped close to her and placed a soft hand on
her arm for emphasis.   “Maybe sometime you’ll take me up on that offer?” she
added with a wink and a squeeze of her hand and then disappeared towards the
stairwell.

Catherine stepped out in front of Sara, arms crossed over her chest, and tried
to melt the back of Shay Morris’ head using only her eyes.  Her teeth clenched
and jaw set, Catherine went rigid when she felt a hand on her shoulder.   She
turned her head to see Grissom behind her with a slightly uncomfortable and
pained look on his face.  Brass was standing next to him with the same
expression only with a little bit of pissed off thrown in for good measure.

“Assignments,” Grissom said, removing his hand from Catherine’s shoulder as she
turned around fully and came back to the situation.   “Sara and Catherine,
you’re with me and the body.   Nick and Warrick, you go with Brass to the
parents and see what you can find out.  Greg, get in the lab and wait for
whatever it is we send back to you.   You’re not just DNA tonight; I need you to
be more than that…trace, prints, fibers, anything.”

“To say this is delicate is an understatement of mammoth proportions,” Brass
continued, stepping forward, hands locked behind his back uncomfortably.  
“Discretion and precision are of the utmost importance.  You do nothing at all
before consulting me first and I mean nothing.  I know you’re all good at what
you do, but from this moment on I need you all to be great.   Anything else is
unacceptable.  So, let’s go.  We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” he finished
and walked past Grissom towards the doors.

“Wait a sec,” Nick pushed off the glass and asked the question that was on
everyone’s minds.  “Who’s the vic?”

“Natasha Foley,” Grissom answered grimly and passed out the file folders.

“Congressman Foley’s daughter,” Catherine nodded and held Brass’ fearful eyes.

“Welcome to the big time, folks,” he said and turned his back once again.

********************

“So you wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed at me?” Sara asked, eyes turning
to Catherine as she drove the Tahoe to the crime scene. Grissom was riding with
O’Riley, getting whatever information the cop had already been given.

“No,” Catherine dead-panned, eyes glued to the road, hands tight around the
wheel.

Sara sighed and nodded, staring back out the window and drumming her fingers on
her corduroys.   She turned back to Catherine and noticed the determined yet far
away look in her eyes and immediately knew the older woman was trying
desperately not to think about something, but it was creeping around in her head
anyway.   Sara knew Catherine so well it was almost scary.   She was angry and
hurt and confused.   And Sara knew that she wouldn’t talk about it until she was
ready.   Sara also knew it had a lot to do with her and the conversation she had
avoided earlier.

“You know if you can’t figure it out for yourself either you’re over-exhausted
from all the overtime and it’s making you stupid or your barhopping with Greg
has killed more brain cells than we both thought,” Catherine snapped at her,
turning angry eyes her way.

“You know I just wanted to calmly talk about things,” Sara scoffed, leaning back
against the door with one knee up in a defensive position, “but if you wanna
turn it into a fight then let’s fucking have it.   What else you got?”

“Wow, thirty-one to six years-old in 3.2 seconds,” Catherine said sarcastically,
stopping at a red light.   “I think that’s a new record for you.”

“Jesus Christ, Catherine.   What the fuck did I do this time?”

“Nothing.  Forget it.  We’re working.   We’ll just talk about it later,” she
answered, light turning green and foot hitting the pedal so hard she left skid
marks.   “This is an important case.  We need to keep our heads in the game so
let’s just leave it.”

“Yeah because knowing you’re so mad at me you won’t even talk about it is so
calming to my nerves,” Sara snorted and looked out the window again as Catherine
pulled up to the crime scene.

Parking in back of the last black and white on the scene and first making a
quick scan of the area, Catherine grabbed Sara by the lapels of her leather
jacket a split second before the brunette could get her hand on the door
release.  Catherine claimed surprised lips between her own and kissed Sara deep
and long, pulling away as quickly as she had moved forward.  Sara was left with
her eyes closed and mouth hanging open as her brain tried to function again, as
it always was after Catherine kissed her like that.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Catherine said and Sara nodded.  “All of it, I
promise.   For now, eyes on the evidence,” she added and exited the car quickly
before the sight of Sara so vulnerable and frustrated could make her resolve and
anger fade.  Sometimes dealing with Sara wasn’t too far from coddling a child.  
There were things to be discussed and Catherine was determined that Sara
wouldn’t weasel her way out of it this time with her adorable smiles and mouth
melting kisses.


“Nice view,” Catherine commented as she and Sara emerged past the yellow tape
and observed the cliff and Las Vegas skyline that was shimmering in the
distance.

“I bet that was the last thing on Natasha Foley’s mind right before she got the
back of her head blown off,” Sara said as she approached the body and observed
the mess that someone had made of the back of the girl’s head.  She almost had
to look away.  

“Sara, tire treads and shoe prints near the edge of the cliff,” Grissom pointed
behind himself from where he was crouched over the body.

“What about near the body?” she asked as she walked around the perimeter of the
scene.

“First two units on the scene made a mess of everything close to the girl trying
to get an ID,” O’Riley chimed in as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his
shirt.

“Great,” Sara grimaced as she set down her case and assessed the prints in the
dirt and peeked over the edge.

“Don’t do that,” Catherine called after her, settling down near Grissom. 
“Please.”

“Why?  Does it make you nervous?” Sara asked with a small smile.

“No, but we’ve got a fight to have later on and I’d hate to be the only one
there,” Catherine played back.

“Ladies,” Grissom warned.

“Right,” Sara nodded and examined the tire treads first.   “You really think a
picture’s going to work on these?”

“Plaster cast if you want,” Grissom answered without turning around.  “But I
called in Shay Morris and if she can get you a working tire tread from half a
greasy print on a neon flyer, she can get you a print on almost anything.”

“We don’t work in almosts,” Catherine said, almost bitter at the sound of Shay
Morris’ name.

“Very true, Catherine,” Grissom smirked at her.   “However, I checked out the
treads myself and I’m sure that Sara can handle it.”

Sara smiled to herself at Grissom’s confidence and began snapping pictures. 
Catherine pulled on her latex gloves and took the lower half of Natasha Foley’s
body.   Grissom took care of the upper half.

Starting from her feet Catherine worked her way up the body with expert eyes,
not noticing anything on the sand or on the girl’s jeans that could have been
evidence.  No fibers, no nothing.  She dusted the girl’s belt buckle that was
hanging open, but came up empty for prints.  

“Sexual assault?” she questioned Grissom motioning to the open pants, only half
closed zipper, and way Natasha Foley’s tight shirt was bunched up over her
abdomen displaying a glowing silver bellybutton ring.

“Possible,” he answered, turning his attention to the gunshot wound directly
between the victim’s eyes.   “Stippling’s small and tight,” he said referring to
the burnt flesh and gunpowder near the entry wound

“Close range,” Catherine suggested, meeting Grissom near the girl’s head to look
herself.  “I’m surprised it didn’t blow the entire top of her head off.”

“Small caliber.  Probably .25, maybe even smaller,” he answered.  

He shined a light over the girl’s bluish face and over the length of her long,
wavy blonde hair stopping when something glinted off the light and into his eye.
Pulling a pair of tweezers and a small plastic bag out of his kit, Grissom
pursed his lips and took a small, clear piece of textured plastic from the mass
of golden locks and deposited it into the evidence bag.

“I’ve got a tattoo here, side of the neck.   Chinese character,” Catherine said
as she tilted the girl’s head and motioned for Sara to take a picture as soon as
she was done with the treads.  “How old was she?”

“Sixteen,” O’Riley answered.   “When you’re Congressman Larry Foley’s daughter
I’m sure you can get whatever it is you want.”

“Yeah and some stuff you really don’t want,” Catherine commented as she grabbed
the girl’s right hand and turned it over in her own.

Unclenching the tight fist that was getting stiff with rigor, an unsettling
crack resounding throughout the whole scene, a small silver chain and pendant
fell into Catherine’s hand.   She held it up, shined her flashlight on it.   It
was a small silver cross with barbed wire tangled around it.   It looked to be
custom made.

“Well, at least she got away with something,” Catherine said sadly as she
dropped the necklace into an evidence bag.   “Fingernails are clean,” she told
Grissom.

“Catherine, look at her mouth for a second,” he said, eyes focused on the girl’s
slightly parted lips.

“What am I looking for?” she shined her light on the girl’s face.

“Just look.”

“Saliva?” she questioned as she noticed the small stream of mucus trailing down
the side of the victim’s face.   “Want me to get a sample?”

“No,” he said and put down his flashlight and reaching for the girl’s face with
both hands.  “Just keep your light on her.”

Kneeling over the body, Grissom used both hands mostly thumb and forefinger to
pop the victim’s mouth open.   Any saliva that hadn’t dried in the cool night
air flooded past her mouth and his fingers.  Catherine moved the flashlight over
the open cavity and grimaced when she saw that Natasha Foley’s tongue was
swollen to the entire size of her mouth.   They could barely see teeth and gums
it was so large.

“Strange,” Catherine commented.

“Very,” Grissom agreed.

“You guys about done here?” O’Riley interrupted.   “Brass just paged.  He wants
you over at the Congressman’s house ASAP,” he directed at Grissom.

“Yeah, we’re done for now,” Grissom got to his feet.   “You two get all the
evidence back to the lab and meet Doc Robbins for the autopsy.  Call me as soon
as you get anything,” he handed over his bags to Catherine and followed O’Riley
to the waiting squad car.

“What about the shell casing?” Catherine asked.

“I did a once over and there’s nothing,” Sara answered as they walked back to
the Tahoe and motioned the coroner’s office to take over. 

“Why do I get the feeling that this case is going to be full of missing pieces?”
Catherine commented as they hopped into the truck and headed back to CSI.

********************

Sara and Catherine walked through the gleaming double doors and into the morgue
to find Doc Robbins sitting solemnly on a stool near the sink.  He was flipping
through a file folder, scribbling things down now and again, and there wasn’t
even any music on.  He looked tired.   Doc Robbins never looked tired.  It was
like some sort of universal rule.   He got up and made his way to the autopsy
table as they approached.

“Normally I’d say something funny or witty being that you are my two favorite
girls around here, but after staring at this girl for almost two hours I just
don’t have it in me right now,” he said with a small frown.

“That bad, huh?” Catherine gave him a small sympathetic smile.

“This girl’s body was a battlefield,” he answered and pulled the cover from her
face and down past her throat.  

He didn’t stop there, just continued to pull the sheet all the way down
revealing the neatly closed Y-incision from abdomen to upper chest.  Once the
sheet was near the girl’s feet, he let it rest there and turned to the two
women.

“Let’s start from the top.   Gunshot at close range, but it didn’t kill her,” he
stated.   “In fact, it’s post mortem.”

“But there was brain matter everywhere,” Sara said.

“Which I don’t doubt,” Robbins nodded.   “However, I bet there wasn’t much blood
if you were to get past the solid matter.  Tox screen came back negative for
drugs and alcohol, other than Prozac and Zoloft which weren’t anywhere near
enough to be lethal.  But after looking through Natasha’s medical records I went
on a hunch and tested her for something else.”

“Something else?” Catherine raised an eyebrow.

“Natasha Foley was allergic to peanuts, even in small doses she’s have a severe
negative reaction to them.   I swabbed her mouth, took her blood, and it all
came back positive for peanut oil.”

“So she died from an allergic reaction?” Sara asked.

“No, that didn’t kill her either,” Robbins shook his head.  “It would have if it
had more time to work through her system, but her tongue swelled closing her
airway and she basically asphyxiated.”

“She choked on her own tongue,” Catherine nodded.  

“So why bother shooting her in the face if she’s already dead?” Sara questioned.

“Your job, not mine,” Doc Robbins cracked a half smile for the first time that
day.

“How about sexual assault?” Catherine crossed her arms over her chest.

“No sign,” Robbins shook his head.   “But she did have sex shortly before she
died.   No fluids or hairs left behind.”

“What did you mean when you said her body was a battlefield?” Catherine asked,
eyes scanning the body and starting to figure it out for herself.

“Body art,” he answered.   “Or in some cultures, mutilation.   We’ve got six
tattoos starting with the moon and stars on the left ankle,” he pointed to the
lower end of the table.   “Setting sun on the lower back.  Shattered heart
between the breasts – don’t worry I took a picture before I cut her open.  And
three Chinese characters; on the neck, inner thigh, and below the bellybutton.”

“That’s a lot of ink for a sixteen year-old girl,” Catherine said sadly.

Doc Robbins picked up the girl’s right arm and turned it into the light.  “We’ve
got at least a hundred small cuts and scrapes on each arm.”

“Defensive wounds?” Catherine asked.

“She was a cutter,” Sara shook her head.

“Precisely,” Robbins nodded.

“I’ll never understand why kids do that,” Catherine commented.

“Punishment, wanting the pain on the outside to match the pain going on inside,”
Sara offered.  “A cry for help.  Something was going on with this girl that’s
way deeper that a few tattoos and some piercings.”

“Ah, just where I was headed,” Robbins held up a finger.   “Piercings on both
nipples, bellybutton, and genital area,” he motioned as he went along and then
retrieved a clear bag from his workstation and handed it to Catherine.  “And I
found this in her stomach.  Barbell, sixteen gauge, must have dislodged when the
tongue swelled and she swallowed it.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Catherine said and began heading towards the exit.

“Uh…we’re not quite finished yet, Catherine,” Robbins stopped her and she
noticed the pained look on his face.

“What is it that’s got you so upset, Albert?” she asked, Sara stopping close to
her.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” he ran a hand over his beard.  “She was
pregnant.  Fetal tissue and size indicates anywhere between eight to twelve
weeks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Catherine muttered.   “Tissue sample?”

“Already up with Greg,” he answered.

“You’re the best, Doc,” Catherine nodded at him in gratitude and ushered Sara
out of the room.

********************

“This case is already giving me a headache,” Catherine said as she and Sara
headed towards the break room for a caffeine recharge.   “And a really bad
feeling.”

“I know what you mean,” Sara nodded and held the door open for her.  “So about
earlier,” she began once they were alone in the break room, Catherine with her
back turned over at the coffee pot.

Sara was about to say something else when her pager went off.  Catherine turned
around and waited for hers to go off also, but it didn’t happen.   She turned
questioning eyes to Sara.

“It’s Shay.  She’s got info on my treads,” she explained and clipped her pager
back to her side.   She was halfway out the door when she realized Catherine
wasn’t following her.  “You coming?” she stuck her head back into the room.

“Don’t think so,” Catherine turned her back, drained her coffee and threw the
cup in the trash.

“Catherine…”

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Catherine stepped past Sara and into the hallway
without touching her, jaw clenched in frustration.   “I’ll be in DNA if you give
a shit,” she called without turning around.

Sara shook her head, looking after Catherine retreating figure, rubbed her tired
eyes in confusion and headed upstairs.

********************

“Got your page,” Sara entered one of the computer labs and her eyes immediately
fell on the dark head of hair perched in front of a screen that was logging
through tire tread matches.

“Got you a match,” bright blue eyes shined on her as the young woman turned in
her direction.

“Excellent,” Sara grinned widely. “Because everything else in this case seems to
be up in the air right now.   Much like my personal life.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“God, no.  I wouldn’t put you through that,” Sara smiled in response.   “So,
what kind of car are we looking for?”

“BFT,” Shay answered quickly.

“Big truck,” Sara nodded and smiled wider.   “Tell me you got a make and model
and I’ll give you my first born.”

“2003 Ford Expedition, can’t be more than a few weeks old,” the lab tech replied
with a smile.  “The treads are almost too well defined, tires are basically
brand new.  Firestone, wide.   The only thing I can’t tell you is what color,”
she handed Sara a print out but held onto it and forced Sara’s eyes to hers.  
“And there’s something else I’d rather have.”

“What’s that?”

“Use your imagination, Sara.”

“That’s never a good thing, trust me,” Sara smiled and pulled the paper from
Shay’s hand.

“Your shoe prints are small,” the younger woman turned back to the monitor and
pulled up a comparison of the picture Sara had sent her and the sole of a
matching shoe.  “Size seven men’s, Airwalk brand.  They’re popular with the
skateboarders.  But see here,” she pointed to where the ball of the foot would
be on the dirt imprint.  “There’s between a two to three inch void in pattern.”

“Worn away?” Sara asked, leaning towards the monitor to take a look.

“Don’t think so, but I’ve got a younger brother in High School,” Shay answered
and shifted to look at Sara.   “It’s probably duct tape.  Sole starts falling
off and instead of getting rid of what’s most likely the kid’s favorite shoes,
they just wrap them with duct tape and keep wearing them.”

“I never learned that trick,” Sara smirked.   “Thanks,” she added and stepped
away.   “I owe you one.”

“You better believe I’ll be collecting,” Shay called after Sara as she let the
door swing shut behind her.

********************

Catherine waited until she saw Sara disappear though the stairwell door before
walking into the same lab she had just exited with a determined and more than
pissed off electric shock running through her body.   As she came nearly face to
face with the person who seemed to be gunning to become her bitter rival in the
war for Sara’s affection, Catherine couldn’t help but wonder if leaving her
firearm in her locker would have been a better idea.

“Catherine, hi,” Shay greeted her with a more than obvious fake smile, images of
Sara still dancing behind her eyes.   “You just missed Sara.”

“Whatever,” Catherine stopped directly in front of the lab tech, hand on her
hip.  “Let’s skip the niceties.  I know where your mind is going and you better
stop it, turn it around, and take it as far away from Sara as fast as you
possibly can.”

“Or what?” Shay crossed her arms over her ample chest and stood up straight, all
but putting her nose to nose with Catherine.

“Or you’ll understand the true meaning of pain,” Catherine hissed and leaned in
close to the other woman’s face.   “And I can guarantee you that will only be
the beginning.”

“What’s the matter?  You afraid she doesn’t find all the sagging and wrinkles
sexy anymore?” Shay countered with a mock pout that turned into a fiery smile.  
“What exactly is it that you think your tired old ass can give her that my
young, feisty, non-gravitationally challenged one can’t?   Huh?”

“You don’t even know her,” Catherine’s heart pumped faster, her blood boiling
beneath the skin.

“Do you?” Shay raised an eyebrow in response, defensive stance taken,
challenging.  “I mean, really?”

Catherine barely resisted the urge to punch the lab tech in her lousy,
girlfriend stealing mouth.   She flexed her fists at her sides, enjoying the
bittersweet pain she felt digging her nails into the palms of her hands.   They
were locked in a standstill, Catherine’s mind racing and driving her insane with
thoughts that even a small part of what the other woman said was true.  It was
making her head spin.   Catherine smartly took a step back before she could do
something rash that she knew she would regret.

“Back the fuck off,” she warned and backed towards the door without turning
around.  “I mean it,” she held cool blue eyes with her own, noting the smirk
that wasn’t leaving Shay’s face, and slowly backed out of the room letting the
door slam behind her.

********************

“You seen Catherine?” Sara stuck her head into the DNA lab to find Greg banging
his head against his desk.

“She took off about a half hour ago,” he answered without looking up.

“What are you doing, Greg?” Sara stepped into the lab and shut the door.

“Trying to keep myself awake,” he raised his head and smiled when he saw her. 
“Anyway, she was even more irritated than usual today.”

“Yeah, apparently I fucked up again.”

“Sit,” Greg pointed to the chair on the other side of the lab table.  “Dr. Greg
needs to have a little talk with you.”

Sara laughed a little, but sat down nonetheless.

“Could Catherine’s heinous mood have anything to do with a certain sexy lab tech
who takes every spare opportunity to make googly eyes at you even when the
entire world is watching?” he asked.

“You haven’t made googly eyes at me in months,” Sara answered.  “And for the
record I don’t really find you that sexy either.”

“Yeah you do,” Greg smirked at her.   “And I wasn’t talking about me.”

“I’m not following you,” Sara’s eyes clouded in confusion, brow furrowed.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Greg asked seriously and rolled his chair
over to Sara and pulled her close to him using the arms of her chair.  “At first
I thought you were just playing dumb because you didn’t want to have to deal
with the all consuming crush I had on you, but you really have no idea how
insanely hot you are…that heads turn when you walk in the room,” his hands found
hers sweetly, his eyes honest and warm.

“I think you’ve been watching a different girl, Greg,” Sara shook her head and
squeezed his hands.

“I’m serious.  Is your self image so horribly low that you can’t even imagine
that there are some people out there that are attracted to you?” he asked.  
When Sara’s head bowed, he reached out a gentle hand to pull her eyes back to
his.  “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and driven and a million other
things that can drive me fucking crazy and make me love you all at the same
time,” his tucked soft dark hair behind her ear and smiled at her widely.

“I love you too, Greg,” Sara smiled back at him.

“You’re still not getting me, are you?”

“No,” Sara shook her head and had to laugh a little.

“Let me dumb it down for you.   Shay Morris wants your shit so bad even Nick
picked up on it,” he said.

“Nick?  Really?” Sara’s face contorted in disillusion.  Greg nodded.

“Listen, I know I haven’t been the president of the Catherine Willows fanclub
lately but she loves you, you ass,” Greg’s hands found Sara’s again.  “And
although she’s ten times the badass you are on a good day, maybe you’re not the
only one with insecurities in that relationship.  Maybe she needs a little
reassurance every now and then too.”

“She asked me to move in with her,” Sara admitted.

“And you had your change of address forms filled out two minutes later, right?”
Greg grinned widely, squeezed her hands.

“No, I didn’t even answer her.”

“And you wonder why this woman is frustrated and pissed off,” Greg stood up and
shook his head. 

“I know.”

“So what are you gonna do?   You know you want to say yes.”

“Seems like I’m too late now,” Sara raised to her feet and sighed.

“You will be if you hang around here much longer,” he smiled reassuringly. 
“Grissom said we could take a couple hours to go home and change and stuff.”

“So I should probably go talk to her, huh?”

“Before she spirals out of control and her eyes go black and she sucks the world
into a doomsday apocalypse, yes,” he answered with his patent smartass Greg
smirk.

“Thanks, Spaz,” Sara pulled him into a warm, thankful hug.

“Anytime,” he answered and kissed her cheek briefly, his hands instinctually
drifting from her waist to go lower…and lower…

“Greg, you touch my ass and you’ll find out just how hard it is to run DNA
samples with two broken arms,” Sara pulled back, lightly smacked his face
lovingly and exited the room smiling.

“Right,” he smoothed out his lab coat.   “Call me if you need anything.”

********************

Sara was mentally kicking herself in the ass for being such a moron when
Catherine opened the door and stepped back to let her inside.   The house was
quiet, Lindsey’s toys neatly stacked in a corner of the living room.  Catherine
had been cleaning.  Now Sara knew she was in for it.  Catherine cleaned when she
was angry and frustrated and she was really good at it.   The linoleum was
sparkling as they stepped into the kitchen.   Catherine put on a pot of coffee
without saying a word.   In fact, neither of them had spoken yet at all.

“Lindsey still asleep?” Sara asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Catherine nodded, back still turned.   She ran a hand through ragged blonde
hair, cracked her neck with a loud snap.  Her shoulders were hunched, tense,
uninviting.  Sara felt her mouth run dry and her palms start sweating.  The
sight made her uneasy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you before,” Sara twirled the ring on her middle
finger nervously, “when I knew what I wanted to say, but I just couldn’t say
it.”

“Did you?” Catherine finally turned around, eyes tired and worn.  “Did you know
what you wanted to say?  Because the dead silence could have fooled me.”

“You know you let me in, you push me away…you let me in, and push me away
again,” the older woman continued, voice tinged with anger and confusion.  “And
just when I think we’re getting somewhere it all starts to fall apart again.  
The second things get even remotely difficult you just run away like a scared
little girl.  And maybe I can’t live my life trying to cater to your mood
swings.”

“What’s all this about, Catherine?” Sara countered, voice just as threatening. 
“Because every time I think I’ve figured it out, it all changes again.”

“I followed you all the way to goddamn San Francisco where you’re staying with
your ex-lover after leaving me without even saying goodbye,” Catherine raised
her voice another notch.   “And I’m just supposed to automatically believe that
because you decided to come home that you’ll never leave me again?!”

“That’s what this is about?   Because can I just remind you that the reason I
left in the first place is because you fucking broke up with me and hanging
around to see you everyday was just a little too painful a reality for me,” Sara
spat incredulously.   “I thought we were over this, but if you want to open old
wounds then don’t let me stop you.  And don’t expect me to stand here and let
you rip me apart for something you had a hand in too.”

“The wounds are still fresh, don’t you get it?   And now, less than two months
later, you show up to work with another woman…a younger, extremely attractive
woman who’s looking at you like she’s about to rip your clothes of at any second
and you expect me not to think something is going on?  When two hours earlier I
ask you to move in with me and instead of saying anything at all you just avoid
the question altogether?  You have all the control in this relationship.   You
stay when you want.  You leave when you want.  Fuck, you do whatever you want
and don’t bother thinking about how it’s going to affect me until it’s too late.
Jesus, Sara.   Put yourself in my shoes,” Catherine leaned back against the
counter, arms crossed.

“I’ve been in your shoes, Catherine,” Sara narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah and remember how well that worked out.”

“We’re still here together now, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, are we?” Catherine pushed off the counter, attacking and
defensive.  “You’re not the only one in this relationship that’s been hurt
before.   You’re not the only one that has issues and insecurities.   With
everything that’s happened in the last few months, I’m sorry if my trust for you
is a little shot.  If the idea of you trading me in for a newer model is
something that’s very real for me.”

“You know I don’t think of you in terms of age, Catherine,” Sara fought past the
lump hardening in the back of her throat.   “When I think of you all I can see
is that one person I’ve waited so long to find that I can’t even imagine living
one single moment without…you’re the person that knows me and understands me so
well that I don’t even have to say a word.”

“I’ve been through this a hundred times before,” Catherine shook her head, tears
forming.  “Having someone tell me they love me to my face and two hours later
they’re out there fucking the first piece of barely legal ass they can get their
hands on.   I won’t go through that again.  I can’t.”

“I’m not Eddie, Catherine.   And if you ever compare me to that scumbag loser
again you’re going find yourself very cold and very much alone in that bed you
just made yourself,” Sara said bitterly, threatening.  She thought for a moment,
letting the anger wash over her.   “Maybe all I am to you is a warm body to fill
the void and the second you think you’ve lost control of me you start pushing.” 


“I’ve never had control of you,” Catherine shouted.  “Or this relationship.  
Don’t you understand how strange and unnerving that is for me?”

Sara took a step back and turned her back to Catherine, wiping at the tears that
she wouldn’t let the blonde see.   They were tears of frustration and weariness.
  And anger.  After all they had been through, Sara just couldn’t believe that
Catherine was the one that couldn’t trust her.  

“Is that why you asked me to move in with you?” Sara turned watery, accusing
eyes on Catherine.   “So you could keep better tabs on me?   So you’d know where
I was every second of every day and you could keep me under your thumb?  So
you’d know for sure that I wasn’t out fucking around?   You don’t trust me
enough to believe that the only thing in the world that I’ve ever really wanted
is you?”

“The reason I asked you to move in with me is because I love you…because it just
feels right,” Catherine countered and stepped into Sara’s personal space,
stopping only inches away from the brunette.   “But if that’s what you think
then fuck you,” she said icily, eyes burning with unshed tears and heated anger.

Sara stared into Catherine’s eyes, not recognizing the woman that was looking at
her through them.   She set her jaw and took a step back before she could do
anything she might regret.  They were so involved in their fighting that they
didn’t hear the quiet footsteps coming down the hall to stop in the kitchen
archway, sleepy eyes staring at them.

“Mommy,” Lindsey’s small voice echoed loudly through the silence.

“Hey baby,” Catherine immediately slipped into Mother-mode and turned the little
girl back towards her room.   “What are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling,” the little girl whined and rubbed at her eyes.

“Just go back to bed, sweetie.   I’ll be there in a minute,” Catherine watched
as her daughter dragged her stuffed bunny back down the hallway and into her
room.

“Catherine,” Sara’s voice was softer, apologetic.

“Get out,” Catherine hissed, not looking at Sara, hand clenching the wooden
archway tightly and waiting to feel her pass.

“Catherine,” it came out strangled, almost a desperate plea.

“Just go,” Catherine’s voice was cold, hard.

Catherine shut her eyes tightly as she felt Sara breeze by behind her and felt
her breath coming quicker as she tried not to panic too much.  When the door
closed, Catherine pushed down the tears and headed towards Lindsey’s room.   She
was a mother first.  Everything else would have to come later.


Sara pulled out her cell phone before she was even at her car and dialed
quickly.  “Hey, it’s Sara.  You busy?   I was thinking I’d take you up on that
offer.”

********************

Sara woke up to a quiet scraping sound, sweat matting the hair to the back of
her neck and forehead.   Glancing down she realized her shirt was half
unbuttoned and her pants were missing completely.  Sara tried to wipe the hair
off her forehead but winced when she raised her hand, a thick white and red
blood soaked bandage covering her entire palm.   Groggily climbing off of her
bed, she caught sight of her jeans in a pile on the floor.  But when she
attempted to put them back on, she noticed that the button had been torn off. 
Searching her mind for some coherent explanation, all she could remember was the
fight she had with Catherine.   Everything after that was a blur of bits and
pieces, none of which looked good.

After finding a suitable pair of pants and buttoning her shirt up so her goods
were hanging out, Sara padded down the hallway and towards the kitchen.  She saw
a sock covered foot sticking out past the kitchen entrance and realized that she
wasn’t alone.  She thought she was about to be sick, every bad scenario possible
playing out in her mind, when a messy smiling head popped up into view.

“You bought the wrong color, you know?” Greg said as she finished sanding the
tile in place and wiped it down with a paper towel.   “Oasis,” he said, holding
up the tile box.   “I went out and switched them while you were sleeping.”

Sara wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Greg and kiss him
unconscious, but settled for a small smile and grateful hazy eyes instead when
the nausea from blood loss and too much alcohol threatened to knock her on her
ass where she stood.

“And for the record, ginsu knives and putty knives are not the same no matter
how much you have to drink,” he teased as he got to his feet and handed her a
steaming cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” Sara said, accepting the coffee and almost drooling at how good it
smelled.  “What happened?”

“You called, needed to talk and by the time I got here you were already half in
the bag and attempting to cement in the wrong colored tile with crazy glue and
barbeque tongs,” Greg smiled and washed the grout off of his hands.  “Twenty
minutes and a big fleshy knife wound later, you passed out.   And you ripped
your jeans by yourself, by the way.   As much as I would like to claim
responsibility for that, sadly I can’t.”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Greg,” Sara said seriously and leaned on
the counter next to him.

“I’m gonna remember you said that,” he smiled in response and hopped onto the
counter.

“I can’t believe you fixed my floor.”

“With everything that happened earlier I figured it was the least I could do,”
he said.  “So Catherine really said ‘fuck you’.  Cuz that’s kinda hot.”

“I’m sure it would have been if fire wasn’t shooting out of her eyes at the
time,” Sara tried to laugh a little but it hurt too much.

“Must have been one major blowout,” Greg commented and leaned his head back
against the cabinets.

“I think this was the worst one so far.”

“So far?”

“You think I’m going to come this far and just give up?” Sara asked with a half
smile.  “We fight.  We cool down.   We talk.  And the makeup sex is unreal,”
Sara smiled wider just thinking about it.

“I think that’s really why you guys do this all the time,” Greg commented.

“I wish it were that simple,” Sara shrugged and took a gulp of her coffee.

“Make it that simple,” he suggested and hopped off the counter, heading towards
the bathroom.  “And get dressed,” he called over his shoulder.   “Grissom wants
us back at CSI an hour ago.”

********************

Catherine was tired and had a massive migraine from all the crying.  She and
Sara could make love with enough passion and intensity to light the world on
fire, but they could also fight with just as much fervor.   She hadn’t gotten
any sleep after Sara left, instead sitting up and trying to figure out why she
was making such a big deal about nothing.   Her fears were real, but they were
just that.   When she really thought about what she and Sara had been through
she realized that all of what was making her unsure was in the past.   And they
had to look to the future.   Because if they didn’t, it was as good as over.  
And Catherine wasn’t sure that either of them could survive the end.

Walking up to Congressman Foley’s house with Grissom by her side, Catherine
glanced at the large SUV in the driveway and had to smile to herself.  The paint
was glittering in the sunlight, the car having been freshly waxed, the ‘Ford’
logo sending a bright light into her eyes.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked Grissom.

“Who needs a car that big?” he said, eyeing the vehicle.

“Exactly,” Catherine smiled and followed him into the posh, Victorian style
house.

Brass met them in the foyer, relieved to see the two most tactful and senior
CSIs on the scene. The caliber of the case was starting to wear on him as lead
investigator making the small wrinkles near his dark eyes seem to get bigger
every hour on the hour.   It seemed he had gotten as much sleep as Catherine and
was wearing the same suit as the previous two days.  Only his tie was different.

“We realize this is very hard for all of you,” he addressed the family in the
living room. 

The uniformed cops and investigators had since vacated the premesis and so Larry
Foley, his wife Annabeth, and their son Tyler were the only one’s left in the
room other than the three law enforcement agents.   Natasha’s mother and father
were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Grissom noticing that she was
drinking a club soda while he poured freely from the scotch bottle.  Tyler Foley
was the spitting image of his twin sister, the same blonde hair and dazzling
blue eyes.  But where she was wild, he seemed to be close under his father’s
watch.   He was dressed in neatly pressed pants and shirt, his hair recently
cut, and his shoes shined and definitely made of upscale Italian leather.   He
stood near a big bay window, staring out like there was nothing in the world but
him and the scene outside.   As the conversation progressed, it didn’t seem that
he even noticed anyone was there let alone talking.

“Listen, I don’t know what else it is that you think we can tell you,”
Congressman Foley said to Brass after a few moments of consideration.   “The
campaign is coming up.  I’ve been busy working.”

“We realize that, sir,” Brass obliged his commanding nature.  “But anything at
all that you can tell us would be a help.  Did she have any friends that we
should talk to?”

“I don’t know,” Foley replied.   “She didn’t talk to us,” he glanced at his
wife.   “We haven’t been able to control her since she was fourteen. Stays out
all hours of the night, sometimes doesn’t even come home.   And I’m sorry, but I
got sick of chasing her around and dragging her home.”

“One of the papers said Tasha was pregnant,” Annabeth finally spoke.  “Is that
true?” she directed her question to Catherine, finding some form of comfort in
the eyes of the other woman.

“We’re still running tests, Mrs. Foley,” Catherine folded her hands in her lap
and fielded the question perfectly, just as Grissom had instructed.  That was a
card they wanted to hold until the final draw.  “There’s been nothing to
substantiate that yet.”

“Of course it’s not true, Annabeth,” Foley interrupted.   “Don’t be stupid. 
Natasha might have been a rebellious, ungrateful teenager, but she wouldn’t be
that careless.”

Annabeth Foley finished her drink with a bitter look on her face and left the
room without looking back.

“Is the Expedition in the driveway new?” Catherine asked.   “It’s a great
looking car.”

“Custom detailed last month,” Foley answered and poured himself another scotch.

“And you’re the only one who drives it?” Grissom asked.

“Ty takes it out every once and again,” Foley sat back down.  “I’ve got a BMW I
usually take if I need to go out.  Listen, is there anything else?” he asked
Brass.  “Because my family and I would really like to start the grieving process
in private.”

“That’ll do for now, Congressman,” Brass stood, Grissom and Catherine following
his lead.  “Thank you.”

“Rebecca Lake,” Tyler Foley said as they were leaving.   He didn’t move or take
his eyes from the window.

“What?” Grissom inquired.

“You wanted to know if she had any friends,” he finally looked in their
direction, the emptiness in his eyes staggering.   “Talk to Rebecca Lake.  She
and Tasha were inseparable,” he said and turned back to the window.

Outside Grissom called Nick and told him to meet Sara at Evergreen Memorial High
School to question Rebecca Lake.   He and Catherine sent Brass for a search
warrant on the Expedition and decided to hang around the outside of the Foley’s
estate until he came back.  Something was definitely going on in that house. 
What was something they were determined to find out.

********************

Sara pulled up to Evergreen Memorial expecting to find Nick waiting for her in
the parking lot, but instead found Warrick waiting for her near the crosswalk. 
She tried to make herself at least halfway presentable by tucking in her shirt
and refastening her belt so it wasn’t crooked as she approached him.   But
judging by the look on his face, she wasn’t looking so hot.

“I thought I was meeting Nick,” she said as she fell into step next to Warrick.

“You were,” he answered, glancing at her as they walked.   “I asked him if I
could switch.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“You look like shit,” he eyed her rumpled appearance and smiled.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s the reason you’re really here,” she answered with
a sarcastic grin.

“I spoke to Catherine yesterday before you showed up with Shay,” he explained. 
“She told me what happened.”

“Great,” Sara nodded.   “You here to rip me a new one because…”

“Chill,” he interrupted her.   “I’m just concerned.  Catherine and I work
together a lot.  She talks to me.  How do you think I knew about you two before
anyone else?”

Sara opened her mouth and then shut it again as they approached the building.

“You’re looking out for her,” Sara smiled.   “That’s sweet.”

“So you wanna tell me why you didn’t say yes?” he asked as they hit the stairs
and headed towards the library.

“It caught me by surprise and I needed to think about it…about things…it’s
complicated…I’m not sure I’m ready…”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” he answered.   “That woman followed you
to another state to win you back.   She talks about you almost as much as her
kid.   And I’ve seen you when she walks into the room, it’s like there’s no one
else there.  So what’s really going on?”

“I froze,” Sara shrugged and sighed.   “We’ve been trying to gloss over the
reasons why I left in the first place and why I came back and it just kind of
blew up in our faces…and we were kind of in the middle of having sex at the time
and it just didn’t seem right.  People say a lot of things when they’re…you
know,” she said, feeling slightly awkward.

“Or maybe it seemed too right,” he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I
find that people are pretty much dead honest when they’re being intimate.  
That’s sort of the definition of intimacy, opening yourself up.   I know you’re
a control freak, but if you don’t loosen up she’s gonna walk and one of these
times you’re not going to be able to get her back,” he squeezed her shoulder and
opened the library door for her.

Sara only had a second to think about what he had said, all the valid points he
had made when the librarian pointed them into the back corner of the library. 
Sitting at a table alone was a girl with her head down in her arms, feet crossed
under her chair, breathing in a steady rhythmic pattern.   As they approached,
Sara could see a paperback copy of Dante’s Inferno lying open on its face near
the girl’s backpack.   Sara and Warrick looked at each other for a second and
then Sara placed a soft hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Rebecca Lake?” she said, loud enough to wake the girl and send her flinching up
in her seat, Sara’s hand retracting automatically.

Rebecca Lake had a round face with a button nose and a small spray of freckles
across cheeks.  Her hair was chin length and dyed crayola red with a black
streak towards the front, brown roots showing slightly.   Her eyes were deep
brown and swollen, red around the rims.   She wiped at them for a second before
reaching next to her and placing thin wire-rimmed glasses on her nose and
regarding the two strangers standing in front of her.

“Are you Rebecca Lake?” Warrick asked.

“Becca,” she nodded shyly and shifted uncomfortably.   “This is about Tasha,
isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Sara nodded.  “Seems you were her only friend.  And I’ll be honest with
you, Becca, we keep hitting walls wherever we go.”

“I don’t know what I can do to help you,” the young girl answered and played
with her glasses.

“Anything you can tell us about Natasha would be helpful,” Warrick eyes were
kind and sympathetic.

“Like what?” Becca asked.

“She have any enemies?   Anyone that would want to hurt her?” Sara asked.

“She didn’t really talk to anyone but me,” Becca shrugged her shoulders. 

“You two don’t really look like you’d run with the same crowds,” Sara commented.

“Why?  Because Tasha’s such a rebel and I’m your run of the mill book geek?”
Becca asked with a bitter smile.  “When we were together she was a completely
different person.   Something inside of her stilled, calmed.   She was my best
friend,” the young girl struggled to hold back tears.   “I still can’t believe
she’s gone.”

“She must have talked about her family life,” Sara continued, softly.  “Anything
about that strike you as odd?”

“Other than the fact that her father cared more about his campaign than his own
kids?  No, not odd.  Only sad,” Becca replied.   “He never knew what an
extraordinary person she was.   She wasn’t all tattoos and piercings.  
Underneath it all she was just a sad girl with a huge heart that her parents had
no part in nurturing.  She had to do it all herself.”

The bell rang and Becca Lake packed up her things, tossed her book into her
backpack.

“Why Dante’s Inferno?” Sara asked.

Becca shrugged.  “Sometimes you have to walk through hell in order to make it to
the light.”   The pain in her eyes made Sara’s insides tight.   Becca slung her
backpack over her shoulders, the top of a skateboard peeking out over the top
near her head.  It caught both Sara and Warrick’s attention.

“Nice board,” Sara smiled.

“Thanks,” Becca blushed, pushed on her glasses.   “No car til I’m eighteen,” she
explained.   “Beats taking the bus.  Can I go now?”

“Sure,” Sara nodded and grabbed the girl’s hand as she passed.  “Sorry for your
loss,” she said and let go, the young girl turning back and holding her eyes as
she walked away.

“She’s holding back,” Warrick said as Becca Lake disappeared.

“Something tells me that’s an understatement,” Sara nodded and followed him out
to their cars.   “I’m gonna swing by Foley’s house and check out Natasha’s
room.”

********************

Catherine was standing in the driveway alone when Sara emerged from the Tahoe
and walked towards the house, case in hand.   Grissom and Brass were out chasing
warrants and she was stuck waiting around for them to call her.  Sara approached
her looking much the same as Catherine did herself.   Tired, regretful, and
battered.  Stopping in front of the shorter woman, Sara moved the sunglasses
from her eyes up to rest on the crown of her head, her bandaged hand catching
Catherine’s eye.

“What happened?” Catherine’s concern was evident in the way she caught Sara’s
hand in her own and examined it, Sara’s warm skin in her own making it hard to
breathe.

“Silly me I thought putty knives were supposed to be dull,” Sara offered a small
smile and turned her hand over in Catherine’s, holding it gently and finally
breathing again when Catherine applied the same pressure back and didn’t pull
away.

“You okay?” worried blue eyes searched Sara’s.   “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“I hate when we fight, Catherine,” Sara answered softly, voice beginning to
waver.  “It’s unsettling.   Makes my stomach turn and my chest heavy…like I’m
breaking inside.”

“You too, huh?” Catherine smiled and shifted closer, hand tugging at the front
of Sara’s shirt absentmindedly as they shared a penitent gaze.

“I feel like we’re always going to have obstacles and doubts because of our
pasts.  But I know now that I can’t do any of this anymore without you right
there next to me,” Sara pulled Catherine closer and stared intently into her
eyes.   “I’d do anything for you, Catherine.   You have to know that.  I’d never
hurt you intentionally.”

“I know, but you do hurt me sometimes without knowing it I think,” Catherine
nodded.  “There are a lot of things we’re going to have to work on and it’s
going to take time.  But I had a long talk with myself and we decided that the
second the door closed I was already missing you.   As often as we butt heads,
as often as we seem to fight, something always draws me right back to you.  It
might not be healthy, but that’s the way it is.”

“It’s my nature to want…to need to take care of you, Sara,” she continued.  “But
sometimes I get scared too.”

“You know I’m still a work in progress, but I’ll try harder Catherine.  I
promise,” Sara hated herself for not being more keyed in and aware of what
Catherine was feeling, but she knew the only thing she could do now was try and
work on it for the future.   “So what do we do now?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure out something,” Catherine squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“So what’s this I hear about wanting to check out Natasha Foley’s bedroom?  
Our guys already went over it.”

“Yeah, but they’re not us,” Sara smiled widely.   “I’ve got a sort of hunch,
let’s just say.”

“Yeah well I practically had to beg Brass to let us back in there.  Mobley’s on
his ass like white on rice not to fuck this one up.   Poor guy’s all twisted
up,” Catherine led Sara towards the entrance.

“The fact that our getaway truck’s in Foley’s driveway’s gotta count for
something,” Sara commented as they made it past the SUV.   “You guys still
waiting on a warrant because I bet the arrogant prick doesn’t even lock his
doors.”

“We can’t touch anything without Brass’ go ahead,” Catherine pulled Sara away
from the car before she could get herself in any trouble.

“There’s some bad shit going down in this house, Catherine,” Sara said as they
made it to the front door.

“I know.  Trust me, I know,” Catherine nodded.


Natasha Foley’s bedroom was covered in shades of black and grey.  There wasn’t a
touch of color anywhere in the room except for the small traces of whites in the
black and white abstract photos lining the walls and bureau.   Catherine went
over the bed and underneath coming up empty handed.   Sitting down at the desk
near the window, Catherine reached for the right side of drawers.

“She was left-handed,” Sara pointed out as she scanned through the pictures on
the bureau.

“Yeah?” Catherine stopped and went for the left side instead.

“Watch was on her right wrist,” Sara nodded and smiled when Catherine grinned at
her in loving admiration.   “Calluses on the left hand from writing.”

“You noticed all that at the autopsy?  I’m impressed,” Catherine began weeding
through school papers and cds.  “Bingo,” she said and tapped her fingers on thin
carboard in the drawer.

“What?  Our guys miss something just like I knew they would?” Sara continued
picking through photos and notes, drawers full of clothes.

“False bottom,” Catherine smiled to herself and pulled the small barrier free
exposing cards, letters and a small journal.   “I’d say the missing pieces have
been found,” she opened a letter and started reading.  “You’ll never know how
much you mean to me.  It doesn’t matter if no one else understands.  I love you
as far as the starry night sky and as vast as the deepest ocean.   Nice
imagery,” Catherine commented and moved to the next one.   “One of Donne’s
sonnets signed always B.”

“Becca Lake,” Sara nodded to herself.   “I knew it.”

“You think?” Catherine asked.

“Definitely.  You should have seen this girl.  It was like she lost the other
half of herself.   It was sad,” Sara answered.  “And she was holding something
major back.   Now we know what it was.”

“Unrequited?”

“Do you keep love letters from someone you have no interest in?”

“Good point.  Boy would that tarnish Daddy’s image,” Catherine shook her head
and opened the journal, flipping to the last entry.  “A pregnant teenage
daughter with a rebellious streak who was also in a same-sex relationship. 
Natasha Foley was a lot more than troubled.  She was screaming for help and no
one heard her.”

“Anything in that journal?” Sara asked.

“Night she died she put in an entry,” Catherine began reading.  “I told him it
had to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.  I’m going to end it tonight whether he
likes it or not.   Thank God for B.  She’s my savior,” she closed the book. 
“That’s it.  I’ll bet whoever ‘he’ is he wasn’t ready to accept it was the end.”

“Shit, Catherine look at this,” Sara pulled a photograph from the bottom of a
thick pile and held it in front of the both of them as Catherine leaned close to
her.

“Who’s that?” she asked, referring to the girl standing next to Natasha Foley in
the picture.

“That’s Becca Lake,” Sara answered.   “You recognize that necklace?” she pointed
to the cross and barbed wire pendant hanging around the redhead’s neck in the
picture.

“Or maybe Becca Lake wasn’t ready for it to be the end,” Catherine shook her
head and gathered the rest of the evidence.

********************

Brass was pacing.  It was unnerving and it was starting to make everyone else in
the room uneasy.   Grissom started the meeting by tossing around folders with
all the information they already had and wanting everyone to throw in their two
cents.   Mainly he wanted Nick and Warrick to disclose their Expedition findings
since they had just returned from serving the warrant to Congressman Foley with
a very rigid O’Riley at their side.  They looked a little worse for wear but
they were both grinning.

“Let’s have it boys,” Grissom instructed as they joined him and the two women
around the break room table.

“The SUV was purchased twenty-six days ago,” Nick started and passed Grissom a
folder with a lot of paperwork.   “There’s barely a hundred miles on the thing
and less than three hours after Natasha Foley’s body was found, the Congressman
has it detailed.”

“Now what does a brand new car need detailing for?” Warrick continued.  “We
subpoenaed the detail order and it called for an entire interior clean up.
Vacuuming, dusting, spraying, the works.”

“However, they must not have been paying too close attention,” Nick grinned and
pulled a small evidence bag from his vest.   “We managed to pull the same
textured plastic that was found in Natasha’s hair from between the seat
cushions.   It’s a perfect match to the interior light cover which also had to
be replaced.”

“She died in that car,” Sara surmised.

“Hairs and fibers?” Grissom asked.

“Nada,” Warrick answered.

“Catherine, you and Sara get anything from the girl’s bedroom?” Grissom asked
the woman, noticing Brass was still pacing and looking even more uncomfortable.

“Apparently Natasha Foley and Becca Lake were having some sort of romantic
relationship,” Catherine answered.

“Jesus Christ,” Brass said under his breath.

“We’ve got letters, journal entries, and a picture of Becca Lake wearing the
necklace we found in Natasha’s hand the night she was murdered,” Sara ignored
the cop and continued.   “But she also wrote about ending a relationship with
what looks to be the father of the baby the night she died.”

“We just need to find out who that is,” Grissom stated.

As if on cue, Greg burst through the break room doors out of breath and carrying
a piece of paper that would prove to break the case wide open.  He stopped with
a hand on the back of Sara’s chair and tried to replenish his oxygen as all eyes
turned to him.

“Fetal tissue results,” he said and tossed the paper onto the table.  “I was
able to pretty much isolate Natasha Foley’s contribution and then I ran the test
again just to be sure.”

“What is it, Sanders?” Brass asked, sweat beading on his forehead.

“DNA’s familial,” Greg frowned.   “The father of Natasha Foley’s baby was a male
family member.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brass moaned and pounded a fist into an unsuspecting
coffeemaker, shattering it on impact.

“Jim, would you like to sit down?” Grissom offered.

“No, I don’t want to sit down,” Brass snapped at him.   “I’m fucked.  You’re
fucked and we’re all fucked.  This is going to be one major fucking scandal and
we’re not going to be able to keep the lid on it much longer.”

“We shouldn’t have to,” Sara interjected.   “We’re not the ones who killed a
sixteen year-old girl and got her pregnant,” Catherine’s hand on her knee under
the table calmed her slightly.

“We’re going to need a warrant for Larry Foley’s DNA,” Grissom told the Captain.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he answered.   “You think any judge in the state of
Nevada is going to give me a warrant for Congressman Larry Foley’s DNA so we can
test it against the fetal tissue of his dead daughter’s baby?”

“Given all the evidence we have right now, I’d like to see any one of them try
to deny a warrant,” Grissom smiled and tossed a folder at the balding man. 

“You better be fucking right about this or we’re all going to burn in Hell,” he
said curtly and quickly left the room.

********************

“So why are we doing this again?” Sara asked as she and Catherine stood outside
of Becca Lake’s front door.

“Grissom wants us to cover all our bases and Brass demanded it,” Catherine
reminded her.  “Plus, she did withhold evidence.  She lied.”

“Right,” Sara nodded and knocked on the door.   Becca Lake answered only seconds
later.   “Hey Becca, can we come in?” she asked the young girl.

“Uh, sure,” the girl allowed them entrance.

“Your parents around?” Catherine asked.

“It’s just me and Mom,” Becca answered.   “She’s still at work.  What’s going
on?”

“Listen, Becca,” Sara spoke gently.   “There are some things we need cleared
up.”

“We know you weren’t telling us everything,” Catherine interjected.  “We found
the letters.”

Becca slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and took a deep breath, staring
at her hands in her lap.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Sara asked.

Becca nodded, ran a hand through her hair.

“We found your necklace in Natasha’s hand the night she was murdered,” Catherine
said and waited for a reaction.   And she sure did get one.  Becca Lake’s color
faded, her breathing steadily increasing, eyes darting from Catherine to Sara
and back again.  “Did you two have a fight?”

“No,” Becca shook her head emphatically.   “I know what you’re thinking and no. 
I would never have hurt her.  I couldn’t have.  She was everything to me.”

“But she was pregnant with someone else’s baby,” Sara reminded her.  “That must
have hurt.”

“She didn’t love him,” Becca answered.   “Not really.  Not anymore.”

“Who, Becca?”

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.   I won’t betray her.”

“You’re betraying her if you let her murderer walk free,” Catherine pleaded with
the girl.  “Help us, Becca.  Please.”

“No,” she shook her head.   “I want a lawyer.”

And with those four words all interrogation had to cease.   Catherine and Sara
nodded and instructed Becca to follow them outside.   They handed her off to
O’Riley who was waiting with a squad car to take her downtown.  He was told to
keep her in an interrogation room until someone from Criminalistics got in touch
with him.  Sara and Catherine headed back to CSI.

********************

Sara told Catherine there was something she had to take care of and headed for
the stairwell.  Being so cryptic, Catherine figured it was only fair if she
followed her.   Stopping short when she noticed Sara enter one of the trace
labs, Catherine stood close enough to hear what was going on, but far enough
away to not be seen.  When she saw the person Sara was headed for, her blood
started to run cold.

“Sara, just the woman I wanted to see,” Shay said as Sara closed the door and
approached her.  “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Actually before you say anything, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she
motioned between herself and the gorgeous lab tech.  

“How so?” a dark eyebrow arched in question.

“I’m not really good at all this communication stuff so I’m just gonna come
right out and say it,” Sara was motioning with her hands, a sign that told
Catherine she was slightly uncomfortable and nervous.   “I’m with someone.”

“I see,” Shay nodded.   “So I guess asking you out to dinner would be
inappropriate?”

It was all Catherine could do not to barge through those doors and kick that
little bitch’s ass.

“It would,” Sara nodded and managed a nervous smile.   “I’m sorry.  I had no
idea that you…I…there was…”

“S’okay, Sara,” Shay stopped her with a hand on her arm which she let linger a
little too long.   “I understand.”

“Okay,” Sara nodded and took a step back.

“Give Catherine my best,” Shay said with a smile.   Sara was momentarily
confused.

“How’d you know?”

“Just call it a wild guess,” Shay answered smoothly, glancing outside the lab
and letting Catherine know she knew she was there.   “I hope we can still be
friends,” she turned back to Sara.

“Actually I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Sara said apologetically.

“Fair enough.  Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Shay nodded and gave a small
smile.   “She’s a lucky woman, Sara.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Sara answered and looked back briefly before exiting the
room.

Sara wasn’t three feet into the hallway when Catherine grabbed her hand and
pulled her into the nearest dark, unoccupied lab.

“Catherine…” Sara began but was silenced by Catherine’s lips pressed against her
own, her back pushed up firmly against the now closed lab door.  “Catherine...”
she tried again, but Catherine’s hands were all over her, in her hair, on her
waist, lips trailing over her mouth and down her neck with a hunger that would
not be denied.

“Fuck it,” Sara growled and grabbed Catherine around the waist, pushing her back
until they connected with the cold metal table in the middle of the room.

Both hands on either side of Catherine’s waist, Sara lifted the blonde and
quickly laid her on the table, pouncing on top of her as fast as she could. 
Catherine reached a hand around the back of Sara’s neck and pulled her down
until their lips were tangled, teeth biting, tongues teasing.   Sara ran a hand
up Catherine’s leg, over her stomach and unbuttoned the blonde’s shirt just
enough to allow her hand entrance to claim a soft, warm breast and caress it
gently.  Catherine’s breathing was fast and warm in Sara’s ear as the brunette
moved her lips down to the soft skin of Catherine’s throat and sucked at it,
tongue dipping out every few seconds to taste the saltiness of her skin.  
Catherine’s hands were pulling Sara’s pants apart when the door creaked open and
voices flooded the room.  They both froze, Sara pulling back to turn startled
eyes to Catherine’s, their breathing coming quicker as they tried to be quiet.

“So grab your pager and meet us downstairs,” it was Nick’s voice and it was
fading as the door began to swing shut.

Sara recognized the wafting java odor as that of one of Greg’s Jamaican roasts
and had to clamp and hand over Catherine’s mouth as the young man felt around
the table, his hand grazing Catherine’s thigh as he searched the dark room for
his pager.   He found it close to Sara’s foot, grabbed it, and headed back
towards the door, pausing when he was half way out into the hallway.

“You two might want to make it a quickie,” he said, grin evident in his voice. 
“Father’s DNA just cleared and there’s a meeting starting in about five
minutes,” he informed them and then shut the door behind them.

Catherine’s eyes lit up in the dark as she let a small laugh escape her lips. 
Sara smiled back and started to climb off of her.  Catherine pulled her back
down.

“We’ve got five minutes,” she said and reached up to grab Sara’s bottom lip
between her teeth.

********************

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Brass was saying as Sara and Catherine
slipped into the room and headed for the cooler.   They were both a little
thirsty and hot.

“Well there’s only one other person in that family with access to the car that
could have contributed the other set of markers,” Grissom stated.

“You think you’re going to get Tyler Foley’s DNA after all this shit, you really
are insane,” the Captain commented.

“What a twisted goddamn family,” Nick commented and crushed his Coke can with
one hand.

“There’s got to be something else we can use,” Sara picked up Natasha Foley’s
journal and flipped it open, a small folded piece of paper dropping to the
floor.

Catherine picked it up and opened it, a small knowing smile spreading across her
face as she turned it over and read the back.   She held up a sketch of the
Vegas skyline exactly as it looked from the cliff where they found Natasha’s
body.

“Seen this before, anyone?” she asked and she could have sworn Grissom’s eyes
lit up.  She flipped it over and read the back, “all my love, Ty.”

“Go get us a warrant, Jim,” Grissom instructed and turned back to Sara and
Catherine.  “Nice work, ladies.”

“This isn’t going to get you a warrant,” Brass frowned.

“Will a signed statement that Natasha Foley admitted Tyler was the father get us
one?” Sara asked.

“What are you thinking?” Catherine touched her arm.

“I’m thinking Becca Lake has nothing to be afraid of now.”

********************

“Are you going to arrest me?” a tearful Becca Lake asked as she sat in an
interrogation room at the Vegas Police Station with Catherine and Sara sitting
in front of her and Brass pacing the perimeter of the room.

“No, it’s nothing like that Becca,” Sara assured her.   “We know Tyler’s the
father of Natasha’s baby and we also know you know that.”

“She wouldn’t let me tell anyone else.   She didn’t want anyone to know.  Said
her father would kill her for tarnishing their good name,” the redhead finally
admitted.

“We need you to sign a statement that will help us prove that it was Tyler’s.  
Can you do that?  Can you do it for Tasha?” Sara asked.

“He’ll kill me.  He said if I touched her again he’d kill me,” Becca answered,
fear in her eyes.  “He ripped the necklace right off my neck.  Said if I didn’t
back off he’d make sure I’d never have her.  He’d make sure I’d never have
anyone.”

Becca pushed at the sleeves of her sweater until they were up near her elbows
revealing a Chinese character tattoo on her right forearm that was identical to
the one on Natasha Foley’s neck.   Catherine noticed it first.

“Strength,” she said with a half smile.

“What?” Becca said.

“Your tattoo,” Catherine motioned to the black ink.   “Strength.  Natasha had
the same one on her neck.”

Becca nodded.  “I told when she couldn’t find it in herself, she could take it
from me.”  

She turned her arm over to reveal another one, the same as on Natasha Foley’s
inner thigh.  “Courage,” Becca said and then pulled her sweater up to reveal her
right bicep area and the same tattoo on Natasha’s abdomen.   “Trust.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you made good on those promises?” Sara asked.

Becca smiled for the first time since they had met her.   “You have a pen?”

********************

“I want to say for the record that I’m outraged at the way the Las Vegas Police
Department has handled this whole situation,” Larry Foley said as he took a seat
between his wife and their lawyer, Tyler Foley seated at the far end of the
table.

“If I were you I wouldn’t say anything for the record,” Brass replied.  “We’ve
already got enough to put you away for accessory after the fact.”

“Accessory after the fact of what exactly?” the lawyer chimed in.

“You know even Schumacher’s eight thousand dollar suits aren’t going to help you
out of this mess, Larry,” Brass leaned in close to the Congressman’s face and
drew out his name.

“Let me just lay it all out on the table for you and then good old Tyler here
can tell us everything we want to know and your wife can take the train back to
southside by herself while we cart your sorry asses off to lockup,” the Captain
finally let all his anger and frustration from the past few days go.  Grissom,
Sara, and Catherine were grinning.  They were quite impressed.

“I resent…”

“Can it, jackass,” Brass shut the Congressman up.   “We’re going to take Tyler
’s DNA, which I have a warrant for,” he tossed the folded blue paper on the
table.  “We’re going to match it to the epithelials on Becca Lake’s necklace and
Natasha’s dislodged tongue ring.  Then we’re going to run a paternity test on
your daughter’s unborn fetus and find out that your son, her twin brother, is in
deed the father.  After that we’re going to tear your home apart and find the
peanut oil he dipped your daughter’s tongue ring in before he helped her put it
back in and caused her to choke to death on her own tongue.  Any questions?”

“Just one,” Tyler spoke.

“Tyler…” his father warned.

“If I tell you everything you want to know right now will it get me away from my
father any quicker?” the young man asked.

“Depends on what you got,” Brass commented.

“Tasha and I were close.   My mother was an alcoholic up until last year and my
father’s been too busy campaigning to pay attention to us since as long as I can
remember,” he said calmly, not wavering.  “All we had was each other.”

“I have a brother,” Sara interrupted, cocking her head to the side.  “Our
upbringing was even worse than yours, I can promise you that.  But he’s my
brother.   There are some things you just don’t do,” Catherine took her hand
protectively.

“I don’t expect anyone to understand the bond we had…the connection,” Tyler
continued, still no emotion in his voice.  “Sleeping together just seemed the
next natural step to take.   Everything was great until she met that dyke slut,”
his voice suddenly took a bitter turn.  “All of a sudden she didn’t want me
anymore.  This bitch was telling Tasha she didn’t need me…that they could be
together and she wouldn’t have to be alone.”

“Natasha wanted it to stop and you didn’t,” Grissom said.

“We drove to the cliff where we always used to go before and we had sex,” the
young man explained.  “Then she starts telling me it’s over, it’s never going to
happen again.   So I play along like it’s all okay and give her the new barbell
I’d seen her eyeing at the mall a few weeks ago.   She was so excited and she
had no idea what was going to happen next,” his lips curved up in a smile.  “As
she was choking to death, I held up Becca’s necklace, told her that bitch would
get what was coming to her too.  She smashed the interior light when she started
freaking out.”

“Why did you shoot her if she was already dead?” Catherine asked.

“Just wanted to make sure she’d never wake up again,” he answered coldly.

“And the baby?” Brass asked.

“She never told me,” he said and had to look away.

“Dammit Annabeth, if you hadn’t been so busy getting drunk all the time…” Foley
started yelling.

“And if you hadn’t been too busy with your career for twenty years,” she
countered and put her arm around her son, around the only thing she seemed to
have left.

“I’m not involved in this and no jury’s going to conclude otherwise,” Foley said
and started to leave.

“You got involved the minute you got that car detailed to destroy evidence, Mr.
Foley,” Grissom stated as Brass slapped the cuffs on the older man and
personally escorted him out of the room.

As Tyler Foley was getting up to be taken into custody, Sara caught the glimmer
of a chain peeking out from his collar and on a hunch grabbed at the boy’s neck
and yanked the chain into her hand, breaking it.   Catherine’s hand was on her
lower back when Sara opened her hand to reveal the pendant was their missing
shell casing with a hole drilled through it to hang it from.  Sara’s eyes met
Tyler’s in an unspoken question.

“She’ll always be with me,” he said, lips curled in a snarl.  “Always.”

“Bag this,” she tossed the necklace to a waiting officer.   “And the shoes too,”
she motioned to the boys feet that were covered in skateboarding sneakers held
together with duct tape.   “They’re evidence.”

********************

Greg wandered into the DNA lab wanting nothing more than to grab his jacket and
backpack and go soak in a nice long bath.   He was drained and even coffee
couldn’t cure it.   He noticed an envelope on his desk that hadn’t been there
earlier and his curiosity was peaked immediately.  His name was on it and he
recognized the handwriting the second he saw it.  It made him smile.   Opening
it, two tickets to the next Blink-182 concert and a small note fell into his
hands.  It was all he could do not to jump up and down and shriek like a girl.  
He flipped the note open and felt his insides get all warm and sticky.

                        Go find yourself a nice girl and take her to a dirty,
chauvinistic punk          
rock show…and don’t forget the flowers, girls like that stuff.  
      You’ll never quite know, Sanders…you’ll never quite know…
                                    Always,
                                                 Sara

Greg folded up the paper and tickets and put them safely in the front pocket of
his backpack.  Try as he might, he’d never really be over Sara and that was just
fine with him.  The smile never left his face as he made the long, lonely ride
back to his apartment.

********************

“So that’s the last of it,” Sara stacked the last of what seemed to be thousands
of boxes in the hallway and flopped down on the couch next to Catherine who
pulled her into a warm embrace immediately.  

They had decided that working through the past also meant embracing the future
and surrendering to their conscious need and desire to make things work,
whatever the cost, no matter how hard they had to struggle.   Moving in
together, Sara leaving her comfort zone to join Catherine in hers, just seemed
like the only logical step to take.   Sara was learning to give and Catherine
was learning to take.   They were changing, their relationship evolving into
something stronger and more stable.  They were finally finding some solid
ground, some form of balance.   And they were doing it together.

“You sure this is what you want?” the blonde purred into her ear from behind.

“Too late now,” Sara joked.   “I’m not unpacking this shit again.”

“You are once we get it to my place,” Catherine said firmly and then smiled.  “
Our place.”

“I’m loving the sound of that,” Sara turned in her arms and kissed her soundly.

“Me too,” Catherine nibbled on her bottom lip for a second longer.

“And you’re sure Lindsey’s going to be okay with all this?”

“Are you kidding?  She’s been pouring over her bookcase for the last four days
trying to decide what you’re going to read to her first,” Catherine said with a
grin and draped her hands over Sara’s shoulders.  “Apparently you read Poe
better than me.”

“I really want this to work,” Sara turned serious.   “When I think about the
future all I see is you and me…and Lindsey as a pain in the ass teenager making
us wait up until three o’clock in the morning for her to come home. She’s going
to have your rebellious streak, you know.  And sleeping in on Sundays while you
make me breakfast and fetch my paper,” she said with a smile when Catherine
rolled her eyes.   “Actually all I see is you, Catherine, and it scares me that
forever just doesn’t seem long enough when I’m looking in your eyes.”

“We’ll just have to do one better than forever then,” Catherine kissed her
sweetly.

“Promise?” Sara asked, eyes still closed.

“Always,” Catherine kissed her again and pushed her back against the cushions. 
“Now what do you say we give this couch one last ride?” she smiled
mischievously.

“When you say it like that how can I resist?” Sara joked and pulled Catherine
down on top of her.

With Catherine’s lips pressed against her own, their bodies slowly melting into
each other, and the sun beating through the window to surround them with light,
Sara couldn’t help but feel like things were just as they should have been.  And
finally things were starting to move forward again.

END.

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