Title : To Protect and Be Served
Author : Melanie
Summary : Story number 8 in the series. You might want to read the others first or at least ‘Little Girl Lost’ to get character background.
Pairing: Sara/Catherine.
Disclaimer : I’m just borrowing. All characters and everything else CSI belongs to Zuiker, Bruckheimer and CBS.
Rating : R mostly for language.
Feedback : Always welcome. Fivebyfive13@prodigy.net
Archive : Ask me and it’s yours :)
Author’s Note : Sorry it took me so long guys…hope you like it. On with the fic…

Sara’s lungs were burning.   The quick and heavy intakes of breath did nothing
other than compound the intense, biting pain shooting up and around the upper
expanse of her chest.   Still, she pressed on.   Heavy feet held tightly in old,
worn in running shoes hit the soft dirt and grass in an even and steady pace.  
She held an arm up to ward off the sharp, stickly branches that flew at her in
sporadic intervals.  Sara was quick to avoid the thick, jagged remnants of
toppled trees jutting out from the underbrush and scattering about the path
underneath her feet.   She saw the light gleaming through the dense tree tops
above and a similar but brighter light peaking in a few hundred feet in front of
her.   She turned her head to look behind her, not slowing her pace.   The
person that was once behind her was gone now, but surely not for long.  Gritting
her teeth and smiling at the same time, Sara bore down on herself and pushed
harder.

A few moments later, Sara stepped heavily out of the wooded path and into a
grassy clearing.  She stopped, two fingers checking her pulse, her free hand
used to stretch out her tired and weary legs.  Her breathing was thick and
ragged for only a minute, then coming slow and even.   Sara raised both hands
above her head, stretching, eyes tilted towards the sky.  The last evidence of
sundown slowly creeping its way through the clouds.   She turned quickly as a
body flew out of the wooded area and dropped near her feet with a resounding
thud.  It rolled onto its back and looked up at her with a mixture of resentment
and admiration showing clearly on its face that was gleaming with perspiration.

“You might want to stand up and walk around, Greg,” Sara said with a half smile.
“Or you won’t be able to move your legs in the morning.”

“I can’t move my legs now,” was his reply as he struggled to catch his breath.  
“I need an ambulance and an oxygen tank.   Why are we doing this again?”

“Because it’s healthy,” Sara explained, her smile growing wider as she continued
to stretch her long legs.   “And we need to sweat out all the beer you keep
making us drink.   I’d really rather not develop a beer belly while I’m still in
my thirties.”

“Hey, I don’t recall holding a gun to your head Miss as long as we get home
before my girlfriend wakes up everything’s cool,” Greg said, rolling onto his
side and picking at the grass for a second grinning.   “Besides I’m pretty sure
that last round was your idea.”

“Come on,” Sara said, holding out her hands to the man lying at her feet. 

Greg reached out, allowing Sara to pull him to a standing position.  He rolled
his neck from side to side and pushed his shoulder back with a small snap.  
Then he smiled briefly before walking forward, across the vast green expanse of
land.

“I’ll go alone next time,” he teased as Sara fell into step next to him. 
“Besides, you’re cramping my style anyway.”

“Oh really?” Sara answered with a small laugh and grin as she playfully bumped
her hips into his and threw an arm around his shoulders.   “Enlighten me.”

“It’s simple, really,” Greg replied with a shrug, leaning into Sara slightly as
he spoke.  “People see a good looking woman like you enter a bar with a great
looking guy like me and automatically conclude I must be rocking your world.  We
sit around for hours knocking back brews, talking, laughing, playing the
occasional round of pool…where I always let you win,” he continued, noting the
smile on Sara’s face grow wider as she laughed and gripped his shoulder more
tightly.   “People instantly conclude you’re my woman.   Which therefore ruins
any of the chances I might have had with all the fine looking ladies that are
constantly checking my fine ass out.”

“You never know,” Sara replied, turning her head to look at him.  “They could
have been checking my fine ass out.”

“Always stealing my thunder,” Greg commented and shook his head.

Greg turned to her and was met with the deep abyss of warm and smiling eyes.  He
awkwardly slid an arm around her waist and pulled at her sweatshirt as their
walking began to slow down.  They eventually came to a stop, still staring at
each other.   Greg shifted so he was facing her.   Sara blinked, her face
turning serious, confusion threatening to furrow her brow.  It was awkward and
silent, just standing there looking at each other.   They both knew there was a
moment happening whether either of them wanted it to or not.  There are some
things that can never be explained because they just are.   Greg tried to
swallow past the heavy beating of his heart.  Sara hoped the moment would pass
them by quickly, before she had to make any kind of decision.

She was rewarded in a split second by the loud beeping coming from her waist
underneath her sweatshirt.   Greg laughed, smiled, and shook his head.   Sara
smiled back as she reached near the pocket of her running pants and unclipped
her pager.  After clicking the green button for a few seconds and making a few
nondescript faces, she slid the small device into her pocket.   At the same
moment, they heard the same beeping again.   Sara was about to reach back into
her pocket when Greg touched her arm to stop her.

“Mine,” he smiled and reached down to check his own pager.   “Must be extra
hot,” he commented, clicking off the pager and clipping it back onto his
waistband.   “So much for cutting back on overtime.”

“Race you back to CSI,” Sara said with a smile of her own a split second before
she took off across the field.

“I can’t move my legs, remember,” Greg called after her with a smile before
taking off across the field.

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

Sara hit the side double doors at CSI so hard she almost knocked the glass
loose.  Three steps into the hallway with her head turned to see Greg sprinting
across the parking lot not thirty feet away, she collided with something solid
and struggled to maintain her footing.  She was held up by two hands braced on
either side of her waist.   She turned her head, immediately muttering an
apology.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she said, taking a hard deep breath that sent a sharp pain
into her chest.

“Jesus you stink,” Catherine said, helping Sara to steady herself.

“I should’ve known,” Sara smirked as she finally looked over into Catherine’s
smiling eyes.

“I promised never to let you fall,” Catherine replied with a grin.

“Well it’s good to know you meant it literally,” Sara countered and tried to put
an arm around Catherine that was swatted away almost immediately.

“I don’t think so,” she said, taking a step back.

Two seconds later, Greg came barreling through the doors and running head on
into Sara who had no time to get out of the way.   In a brief moment, Catherine
again had her arms braced around Sara as not to let her hit the ground.  Greg
was not so lucky.  He bounced off of Sara and hit the floor with a thud, his
face twisted in discomfort.

“Good thing I landed on my ass,” he said, pushing to his feet quickly.

“Too bad you didn’t land on your ego,” Sara commented, standing up straight and
wiping the sweat from her face.   “It would have cushioned your fall better.”

“Ha ha.  Very funny,” Greg mocked her and shot her a quick middle finger before
straightening out his sweatshirt.

“What were you two doing exactly?” Catherine asked as she took a few steps back
and tried not to breathe.

“I was showing Greg the beauty of nature,” Sara answered, pushing the young man
lightly.

“More like shoving it down my throat,” Greg replied and pushed her back.

“Okay, now that we’re five again,” Catherine teased as she saw the schoolyard
flirting going on between them.   “You might want to take a shower so we can get
going.”

“Where to?” Sara asked, kicking Greg in the shin without looking at him.

“Double homicide,” Catherine answered.   “So hurry up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sara said and gave a weak salute cut short by Greg’s fingers
pinching into her side roughly.

“I’ll meet you in the Tahoe,” Catherine dismissed them and walked towards the
doors.  “And try and grow up before you get outside.” 

She was almost through the doors when she turned around again.

“And I almost forgot,” she said regarding Greg.   “Grissom wants to see you in
his office before you clock in,” she added and then took off into the parking
lot.

“Someone’s in for an ass kicking,” Sara teased Greg as she headed for the locker
room.

“Only if I’m lucky,” Greg answered with a wide smile as he headed in the
opposite direction.   “You owe me a rematch,” he called down the hallway.

“You can’t handle that much pain,” Sara smiled and disappeared through the
locker room door.

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

By the time Sara and Catherine got to the scene, Brass and Nick were waiting for
them near the entrance.   The yellow tape was just being set up around the
perimeter and the place was swarming with uniformeds and flashing lights.   They
both grabbed their cases out of the back seat and jogged over to their
colleagues.

“What’s the what?” Sara asked once they were all standing together and heading
towards the open front door.

“Sixteen year-old girl with end stage leukemia,” Brass answered as they hit the
front steps.

“And you think it’s a homicide because…?” Catherine asked in slight confusion as
they crossed the threshold.

“That’s why,” Brass pointed to the body lying on the floor in the foyer.  “Maria
Anderson, the girl’s mother,” he explained.  “So far as we can tell single
gunshot wound right between the eyes.”
“Looks like small caliber,” Nick commented, kneeling down to tilt the woman’s
head for a better look.   “Nine millimeter probably.  Not too much of a mess.”

“Where’s the girl?” Catherine asked.

“Follow the footprints,” Brass gave a half smile as he motioned to the bloody
footprints leading away from the body and down a small corridor.

“You want me to stamp the footprints?” Nick asked, looking up from the floor.

“Uh, no,” Catherine answered.   “Sara, you’re better with printing.   Nick, you
come with me.”

“I don’t smell anymore, I swear,” Sara called after Catherine, who just shook
her head.  “I took a shower,” she added with a smile and dropped her case near
the blood trail.

When Catherine entered the small room at the end of the corridor, she felt the
air slowly creep out of her body.   She remembered Brass telling her the girl
was sixteen, but the person lying on the bed didn’t look a day over twelve.  
She was tiny, pale, and resembled a skeleton more than anything else.  A bright
scarf was wrapped around her most likely bald head and her eyes were sunken and
dark around the cavernous hollows.  The only thing that made the scene less
disturbing, less heartbreaking was the appearance that she was just sleeping
soundly.  That the pain was somehow less…somehow over.  She had the sudden urge
to call Lindsey and tell her everything was going to be okay and she didn’t know
why.

“Ready, boss?” Nick asked, touching her shoulder gently.

“Uh, yeah,” Catherine smiled sheepishly.   “Sorry,” she said and stepped to the
side of the bed.

“Oxygen mask is already pulled off,” she observed.   “Your guys?” she asked
Brass.

“Nope,” he shook his head.   “Naked scene, Catherine.  This is the way we found
it.”

“Okay, Nicky cut off the mask and send it for prints.   I doubt this girl had
the strength to do it herself,” Catherine instructed.  “No gunshots?” she asked
Brass again.

“Doesn’t appear to be,” he replied and pointed to the breathing machine and
medicine bag.  “Someone cut the machine and it looks like the medicine bag is
close to empty.”

“It’s a morphine drip,” Catherine said inspecting the bag, “and it’s not close
to empty.  It is empty.   I’d bet my sexy undies that she forcefully overdosed.”

“Ooh,” Nick commented with the waggling of eyebrows.   “What color?”

“Ask Sara,” Catherine answered with a small smile causing Nick to smile to
himself.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something here?” Brass asked with furrowed brows.

“No, Jim.  Not a thing,” Catherine answered.  “Nicky, check this out,” she said,
kneeling down near the side of the bed.

“What?” he asked, joining her and looking down at what seemed to be four equal
sized imprints in the carpet.

“That chair over there used to be over here,” she said, pointing to the folding
chair near the far wall.   “And recently.  And what is this stuff?” she
commented, pulling out a length of clear tape and pressing it against the floor.

“Looks like some kind of sand,” Nick answered taking the sample and bagging it.

“So if someone was sitting here and watching this poor kid die,” Catherine began
and circled the bed, “what would they be doing?” she asked and thought about the
scenario.

“Trying to get her not to struggle?” Nick suggested.  

“No,” Catherine said, shaking her head.   “Comforting her,” she said and picked
up the girl’s frail hand in her own.  It was curled into itself like it had been
holding something tightly.

“Holding her hand,” Nick nodded as Catherine scraped under the girl’s
fingernails.

“Bingo,” she said, holding up the sample of epithelials.   “I bet Greg’s gonna
love these babies.”

Catherine and Nick were smiling at each other over the bed when they heard
scuffling and screaming coming from the hallway.   A minute later a middle-aged
man in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt busted into the room with two uniformeds
struggling to hold him back.   His arms were flailing and his face was red with
exhaustion.

“Jesse.  No, dammit,” he screamed and attempted once more to break into the
room.   “They were supposed to watch her.   I knew she was going to do this.   I
told them to watch her,” he yelled with a voice thick with emotion.

“Sir, please back up,” Brass insisted, moving over to try and push him back. 
“You can’t be in here.”

“I sure as hell can be in here,” he spat at the shorter man, sweat beading on
his forehead as he kept struggling.   “She’s my daughter.”

“Mr. Anderson,” Catherine approached him slowly.   “What do you mean they were
supposed to watch her?”

“Jesse wanted to die,” he explained and stopped fighting the officers.  “She was
in severe pain and she wanted to die.  I told her mother and that nurse they had
to watch her.   Where’s my wife?  I’m going to kill her.”

“Someone beat you to it,” Catherine commented.

“What?” the man asked with shocked eyes.

“Mr. Anderson, we need you to wait outside,” Brass instructed and sent him down
the hallway with the other officers.

“They’re still married?” Catherine asked.

“Separated,” Sara answered, finally making it into the room.

“Who called him?”

“Definitely wasn’t the in-home nurse,” Sara answered.   “I just got finished
talking to her and apparently Mr. Anderson wasn’t her or his wife’s favorite
person in the world.”

“Really?” Catherine said.

“In fact she told that, and I quote, ‘low down sleaze bag no good piece of crap
never to come back here again’,” she read off of her black notepad. 

“Wow,” Catherine whistled.

“Yeah and the disturbing part is that she looks just like my great aunt Eunice,”
Sara stated.

“You have a great aunt name Eunice?” Nick teased.

“She call 911?” Catherine asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Sara answered.   “She heard the heart monitor flat line and it woke
her up.”

“The gunshot didn’t wake her up?”

“Didn’t hear it,” Sara answered.   “Looks like our perp used a silencer.”

“Looks like the whole point of the crime was to kill the girl,” Catherine
surmised.  “Any signs of forced entry or robbery?”

“Nada,” Sara shook her head.   “But I found this stuff near the footprints,” she
handed over a sample that looked to be an identical match to the sandy substance
Nick and Catherine had taken from near the chair.

“We got some too,” Catherine said, accepting the sample and handing it to Nick. 
“Get this stuff to Greg and tell him I want the results yesterday,” Catherine
instructed Nick.

“There’s something else,” Sara stated once Nick had exited the room.  “Mother’s
got no defensive wounds whatsoever.  There was no struggle.”

“There wouldn’t be,” Catherine agreed.   “Shooter came in, popped Maria Anderson
right there in the foyer and made a beeline straight for Jesse here,” she said,
motioning to the girl on the bed.

“You don’t think she killed herself like the father suggested?” Sara asked.

“Do I think an eighty pound girl who can’t feed herself, can’t go to the
bathroom by herself, and can barely move got up, walked over to the morphine
drip almost ten feet away, jacked it up, and then got back into bed – pulling
the plug on the breathing machine on the way – and waited to die?” Catherine
said.  “Not a chance in hell.”

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

John Thomas Anderson sat on the living room couch thirty feet away from his
estranged wife’s dead body with his head in his hands.   He only raised his face
to light a cigarette and drag on it like it was an oxygen tank.  As Catherine
sat down on the chair opposite the grieving husband and father, he tilted his
steel gray eyes in her direction and blinked back tears.

“Mr. Anderson…”

“John,” he interrupted quickly.   “Please call me John.”

“John,” Catherine reiterated, “I know how difficult this must be but we have to
ask you some questions.”

“Sure, anything,” he answered.

“Your wife’s in-home caregiver, Alice Richardson, told us you don’t come by here
often,” Catherine stated.   “Is that true?”

“Maria and I were having some problems with our marriage,” he explained, folding
and unfolding his large hands as he spoke, careful not to burn himself.  “When
Jesse was diagnosed with leukemia ten years ago, I thought the best thing we
could do as parents would be to have another baby.   So she’d have a bone marrow
donor, you know?   But Maria said no…that she wouldn’t chance having another
child with such severe medical problems.”

“Is that why you’re separated?”

“About a year ago, Jesse relapsed,” he answered.   “She continued to deteriorate
and it got to the point where we started blaming each other instead of helping
each other cope with the sickness.   There just wasn’t any point anymore.   She
told me if I left not to come back.   And I didn’t until about two months ago.  
She let me see Jesse twice a month as long as I helped pay for her medical
bills.”

“And you think Jesse took her own life?” Catherine asked.

“She kept telling me the pain was getting worse…that she couldn’t handle it
anymore…that she wanted it to end,” he said and began crying.  “After that I
told Miss Richardson she needed to be monitored all the time.  That she was a
danger to herself.”

“But there was no hope that Jesse would get better,” Catherine half asked.

“A parent always tries to hope for the best,” Anderson answered with a shrug and
a sadness in his eyes that was painfully heartbreaking.  “You have kids, Miss?”

“A daughter,” Catherine nodded.

“What would you do to keep her from hurting?” he asked with a penetrating stare.

“What wouldn’t I do,” Catherine answered, honestly.

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

“The father did it,” Catherine commented solemnly as Sara drove them home for
the evening.

“What?” Sara asked, glancing at her and then back to the road.

“His daughter was in indescribable pain…suffering the torment of a terminal
disease,” Catherine said detached, staring out the window at the passing
scenery.  “She was begging to die…to stop the pain.  There’s no way any parent’s
going to sit there and watch their child suffer like that for no reason.  She
was never going to get any better.  He did what he had to do to help her.”

“And the mother?” Sara asked.   “She deserved a bullet in the head?”

“That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet,” Catherine answered, snapping back
to the moment and turning to look at the woman sitting next to her.

“How about he was pissed off at her for keeping him from his daughter and the
fact that she wouldn’t have another baby just to save the child they already
had,” Sara suggested with a shrug.

“It’s possible, but not likely,” Catherine replied.   “Why didn’t he just shoot
them both?   He really believed he was helping his daughter…not murdering her.”

“Where do we draw the line, Catherine?” Sara asked, slipping her hand into
Catherine’s and squeezing gently.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.   “Everything changes when you have
kids.”

“Speaking of,” Sara said, thankful to change the subject.   “What time do you
want me over tomorrow…today…whatever?” she said, trying to gauge the time.

Catherine looked at her with confusion etched across her face.

“Lindsey’s party?” Sara reminded her.   “I picked up the cake and dropped it off
earlier when you were out.”

“I almost forgot,” Catherine admitted, covering her mouth with her hand for a
moment.  “Does that make me a bad mother?”

“Only if you didn’t pick up that monstrosity of a present,” Sara joked with a
wry smile.

“You promised to help me put it together,” Catherine pleaded. 

“I was joking.”

“Too bad, funny girl,” Catherine smiled.   “You’re under contract now.”

“What are you gonna give me?” Sara teased.

Catherine gave a small smile and laugh and tugged Sara’s hand.  She shifted in
her seat, moving her legs apart until she had Sara’s hand nestled soundly
between her legs.   She gripped the brunette’s hand lightly, tracing circles on
its back directly below her knuckles.  Sara felt her heartbeat speed up and
struggled to keep her focus on the road.

“Pull over and I’ll show you,” Catherine said with a grin.

Sara signaled and pulled the car to a stop.

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

The next day, Sara had barely made it through Catherine’s front door when the
frazzled blonde nearly tackled her back against it.   After regaining her
footing, Sara felt Catherine’s arms wrap tightly around her waist and she tucked
the shorter woman’s head under her chin before placing her own arms around tight
shoulders.   Catherine began speaking and Sara had to strain to hear her over
the commotion.

“I thought you’d never get here,” Catherine breathed against Sara’s chest.

“I fell asleep,” Sara explained.

“You okay?” Catherine asked, pulling back to look into worn eyes.  “You still
look tired.”

“I’m fine,” Sara insisted.   “I tried watching Gosford Park again.”

“That’ll do it,” Catherine smiled and reached up to kiss Sara quickly, hearing
the voices progressively getting louder.   “You still having trouble with the
whole sleeping and nightmares stuff?” she asked, stepping back and taking Sara’s
hand.

“Nope.  I have officially finished my therapy, Doctor Willows.   So please drop
it and lead me to the…”

“Mom!  We’re hungry!” came a scream from the living room, interrupting their
conversation.

“You better call Brass,” Catherine grimaced running a hand through tousled hair.
“Because before this day is over this place is going to be a crime scene.”

“I got it,” Sara smiled and kissed the crown of her head before passing by and
following the noise to Catherine’s now extremely destroyed living room.  That’s
what thirty eight year-olds in a confined space will get you.

“Sara,” Lindsey screamed when she saw the brunette enter the room.

Sara knelt down to grab the young girl and pick her up in a tight bear hug.  The
rest of the kids kept doing what they were doing…wrestling, tearing up
magazines, and throwing wads of wrapping paper at each other.   Sara kissed
Lindsey on the nose before depositing her back on the carpet and pulling a small
velvet box from her pocket.

“Sorry I’m late, squirt,” she said, handing the box over to the youngster and
smiling.  “Hope this makes up for it.”

“What is it?” Lindsey asked with a smile, bouncing in place.

“Why don’t you open it and find out.”  

Lindsey used her deft little fingers to pry off the tiny bow and jam the box
open in mere seconds.   Her eyes lit up as she pulled the small heart-shaped
gold locket out and stared at it with wonder.  Sara knelt down to help clasp the
chain around the small girl’s neck and sat back to look at her.

“It’s got my initials on it,” the blonde girl exclaimed.

“It does,” Sara smiled back and reached forward to open it up and display the
picture inside to Lindsey.   “Now see, you’ve got your Mom in there so whenever
you wear it you can keep her close to your heart.”

“Neat,” Lindsey smiled and shut the locket again.   “It’s so pretty.  Thanks
Sara,” she added and ran forward for another hug.

“Your welcome,” Sara said squeezing her tight.   “So give me the gossip.  You
get anything really cool?”

“Mom got me the Barbie dreamhouse!” she answered.

“Wow, Mom actually sprung for the whole dreamhouse,” Sara said with a smirk as
she looked over her shoulder and winked at Catherine who was standing near the
kitchen with a woman who looked a lot like her only a little taller.  They were
both staring at Sara with amusement.

Sara stood up, placed her hands on Lindsey’s shoulders, and turned the girl
around so they were looking at the melee going on around them.

“Hey,” Sara yelled.  Nothing happened.  “Hey,” she said louder.   Still nothing.
 

Defeated, she raised two fingers to her lips and whistled so loudly that dogs
from three counties were surely on their way.   Thirty kids stopped dead in
their tracks and turned startled and partly scared eyes towards her.

“You guys want candy or cake and ice cream first?” she asked once the talking
had ceased.

“Candy!” came the loud reply in unison.

“Alright.  Everybody get in a straight line so we can head into the backyard,”
she commanded and amazingly the kids followed directions.   “And whoever’s the
quietest gets to swing the stick first.”
“What’s the stick for?” a short and slightly pudgy kid asked raising his hand.

“To hit the piñata with, stupid,” the boy behind him snickered and pushed his
shoulder.

“What’s your name?” Sara asked the first boy who was pouting.

“Tommy,” he eeked out.

“Tommy, why don’t you come up here with me and Lindsey,” Sara encouraged him
with a smile.  “There’s a stick waiting outside with your name on it.”

“How come he gets to go first?” the second boy whined.

“Because I said so, Mouth,” Sara answered with a wide grin.  “Now maybe if
you’re nice, my new friend Tommy here will share his candy with you.”

Lindsey looked up at Sara smiling and swung their interlocked hands back and
forth.  Then she reached out her other hand and grabbed Tommy’s, which was a
little sweaty.   Tommy looked back at the boy who had just pushed him and
shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey Billy, you wanna come up here too?” he asked.   Billy smiled and joined his
new friend making sure to apologize on his way.

And just like that Sara led them out the back door and into the backyard in one
neat and quiet single file line until they had made it to the tree where there
was a huge purple dinosaur hanging by its neck from a noose.

“I didn’t think eight year-olds still liked Barney,” Sara commented.

“We don’t,” Lindsey explained with an innocent smile.   “We just like beating
the crap out of him with a stick.”

“She is amazing,” the woman next to Catherine commented as they looked out the
window.

“Yeah she is, sis,” Catherine replied with a wide smile.

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

By nine o’clock the kids were gone.  Catherine was attempting to scrub three
fruit punch stains out of the living room carpet.   Lindsey was passed out on
the couch with a sticky chocolate ring around her mouth.  And Sara was putting
the lid back on the last ice cream bucket while the woman, who had finally been
introduced to her as Catherine’s sister Stacey, was putting the remainder of the
cake in a small Tupperware container.   Sara was putting the ice cream in the
freezer when the refrigerator door almost hit her in the stomach.

“Sorry,” Stacey said with an apologetic smile.   “Kids birthday parties have a
way of sucking the life out of me.”

“I hear you,” Sara nodded with a smile and shut the freezer.   “You don’t have
any?”

“No.  Uh uh,” the redhead answered.  “I have anger management problems.  How
‘bout you?”

“Same here,” Sara answered.   “Short temper.  Ask Catherine.”

“But you were great with the kids today,” Stacey insisted.   “They hadn’t shut
up for over an hour before you got here and then poof,” she said, motioning with
her hands.

“I like them as long as I can give them back at the end of the day,” Sara
laughed.  “Being around Lindsey has definitely taught me some patience, but I
don’t ever think I’ll be the mother type,” she said, glancing over her shoulder
at the sleeping girl on the couch and then turning back.  “Besides, I don’t like
soccer.”

“Neither do I,” Stacey said with a small laugh as she nodded.  She looked past
Sara’s shoulder and fixed her eyes on Catherine who was viciously scrubbing at
the light colored carpet.   “You know I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like
this.”

“Like what?” Sara asked, turning around to follow Stacey’s gaze.

“Happy,” Stacey answered and turned her eyes to Sara.   “I mean really happy. 
Not the fake bullshit Catherine has gotten so well at displaying while she’s
really miserable on the inside.  It was never easy growing up where we did when
she had such big plans for herself and we were stuck in Smallsville, USA.  I’ve
waited a lifetime to see her happy...and I think it’s got a lot to do with you.”

“Me?  Nah,” Sara said, nervously dismissing her with a small wave of her hand.  
“I think her life’s just going in the right direction lately.   With work and
Lindsey and…”

“No,” Stacey demanded, placing a gentle hand on Sara’s arm.  “It’s definitely
you.   Catherine hasn’t said anything, but she doesn’t have to.   I see the way
she looks at you.  I never would have thought Catherine…”

“Listen, Stacey,” Sara began, blushing and feeling very nervous.  Almost like
when your parents catch you making out with another girl for the first time.

“Hey, I think it’s great,” Stacey interrupted her quickly.   “Christ, Lindsey
talks about you all the time like you’re the second coming or something.  She
really loves you.”

“I really love her too,” Sara replied.   “Both of them, actually,” she added
with a smile.

“You must really be in love,” Stacey said with a smile.   “I wouldn’t brave a
room full of screaming eight year-olds for any man.”

“Me neither,” Sara laughed.

“Just don’t hurt her,” the redhead added on a more serious note.  “She acts like
she’s got it all together, like she can handle anything.   But I’ve seen her on
the downward spiral and I don’t ever want to witness that again.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sara promised.

“You better do more than that,” Stacey commented, only half joking.

“I intend to,” Sara assured her, looking at her with honest eyes.

“I think the world just started spinning backwards,” Stacey joked with a wide
smile.  “My sister has finally picked herself a winner.”

Catherine made her way into the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishrags just as
her sister and her girlfriend were laughing and smiling.   When they looked at
her, their laughing only increased.

“Okay, what’s so damn funny?” the blonde asked after washing her hands.

“Nothing,” Stacey assured her with a wave of her hand as she quieted down.  “I
was just reading Sara the disgruntled sister disclaimer.”

“What?” Catherine looked at her sideways.

“Sara’ll fill you in,” Stacey said, grabbing her jacket from the back of one of
the kitchen chairs.   “I gotta run,” she added, crossing the floor to hug
Catherine quickly.   “I’m happy for you, Cath,” she whispered and then was out
the door, waving and smiling at Sara on the way.

“Okay, what the hell was that all about?” Catherine asked when she was gone.

“I told your sister we were bed buddies,” Sara said simply.

“What?!?”

“I had to,” Sara said, trying to keep a straight face.   “She kept coming on to
me and I didn’t want to be rude.”

“What?!?”

“When she put her hand on my boob, I figured I needed to do something,” Sara
pleaded.  “I figured what better than the truth.”

“When she put her what on your what?” Catherine said in disbelief, face growing
pale.

“Relax,” Sara said, finally smiling and placing both hands on Catherine’s
shoulders.  “I’m kidding.  But your sister does know about us.  Apparently
you’re oozing happiness lately.”

“Tends to happen when you get laid on a regular basis,” Catherine did her own
teasing.

“So I hear,” Sara replied, leaning forward to kiss Catherine deeply.  They were
getting ready to take it to the floor when a sleepy mumbling broke the moment.

“You want an eight year-old?” Catherine spoke against Sara’s lips.

“I feel like I’ve already got one,” Sara replied, kissed Catherine once more,
and headed to the living room to gather Lindsey in her arms.

“Sara,” she said in a sleepy voice as she was being carried to her bedroom.  “I
really like the present you got for me…but…”

“But what, munchkin?” Sara asked quietly, hearing Catherine’s footsteps trailing
behind them.

“Um…can we get a picture of you so I can put it inside, too?” the little girl
asked as her eyes drooped closed again.

“Sure,” Sara said with a grin that couldn’t quite possibly get any wider as she
looked over her shoulder to see the same look on Catherine’s face.


After Sara had put Lindsey to bed, she found herself lying on top of a half
naked woman who had her hands threaded gently through Sara’s hair.  After a few
minutes worth of heavy kisses and the discarding of shoes, socks, and
Catherine’s shirt, the blonde surprised Sara with a question.

“You ever think about having kids?” she asked, causing the brunette to stop her
assault on delicate skin and look up.

“Not since I was five and my Mother bought me one of those dolls that really
cries,” she answered, bracing her elbows on either side of Catherine’s body.

“Do I want to know?” Catherine teased and brushed the hair out of Sara’s flushed
face.

“Stephen and I shoved her headfirst down the trash compactor one day when she
wouldn’t shut up,” Sara answered with a smile.   “He used to joke that I must
have been out playing in the dirt the day biological clocks were handed out.  
And then one day it wasn’t funny anymore,” she added, growing a little more
serious.

“It’s never too late,” Catherine said gently.

“Please,” Sara said with a laugh.   “I know I like my pleasure with a little
pain…”

“A little?” Catherine interrupted.

“But the thought of pushing something that large out of…” she said, shaking her
head.  “No thanks.  My vagina might tell a monologue, but it’s not going to be
that one.”

“It’s not that bad,” Catherine laughed.

“Really?”

Catherine was silent, instead lifting her head up to catch Sara’s lips roughly.

“That’s what I thought,” Sara said, once they had separated.   “However if you
and I could have kids, I would probably reconsider.   But it wouldn’t really be
fair to the rest of the world to have such great looking babies to try and
measure up to.”

“Yeah that and with our luck they’d probably inherit your attitude problem and I
am not putting up with two of you,” Catherine commented.

“Kids are too unpredictable.   You never get what you bargain for,” Sara said.  
“It just doesn’t seem fair that two loving and caring parents end up with a
great kid like Jesse Anderson and she ends up with an incurable disease.  And a
guy that beats his wife and kids can have a whole bunch of healthy ones.”

“It’s not the kid’s fault either way, though,” Catherine said.

“No, but nine times out of ten those kids grow up to beat their own kids too,”
Sara said solemnly, averting her eyes and beginning to tense.

“You’re not that kind of person, Sara,” Catherine assured her gently running her
hands through soft, dark hair.   “You don’t have to be like your parents.   You
won’t.  I mean, look how great you are with Lindsey.”

“I know, but every time I’m with her I’m…” Sara paused and closed her eyes. 
“I’m always afraid that something could happen and I’d never be able to forgive
myself.”

“You’re not like that so there’s nothing to worry about,” Catherine said firmly,
pulling Sara’s lips down to her own in a searing kiss.   “I trust you
completely.   You just have to trust yourself,” she said still slightly
breathless.

Then there was the only the weight of Sara’s body pressing down on her own.  The
deep and meaningful kisses that threatened to take the life from her.   And her
hands running over strong shoulders as Sara lowered herself down the length of
Catherine’s body, stopping to tug at her waistband on the way.  With her zipper
halfway down and Sara’s tongue dipping into her bellybutton, Catherine’s brain
heard the doorbell ring but her body wasn’t responding.   She continued moving
under Sara’s determined hands until the ringing threatened to wake up the little
girl sleeping down the hall.   Sara stopped and rolled to the side as Catherine
begrudgingly got up to see who it was.

By the time she got to the front door, she had only buttoned her shirt up
halfway.  Her hair was disheveled and her pants were still unbuttoned.  
Catherine didn’t care as she opened the heavy wooden door and squinted into the
porch light.  She covered her eyes for a second to sharpen her vision and nearly
fell over in shock.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing here?” she said in anger without opening the
screen door.

“It’s awfully nice to see you too, Cath,” he replied with a grin.

“I told you never to come back here,” she shot back at him, raising her voice.

“It’s my daughter’s birthday,” he said and pulled open the screen door quickly.

Catherine tried to shut the inner door, but Eddie slammed his forearm against it
roughly forcing it to stay open.   With one foot on the threshold, Eddie tried
to push past her but Catherine forcefully shoved his upper body with two strong
hands.   He fell back a few steps, but looked angrier now than Catherine had
ever remember seeing him.  When she stepped forward into the light Eddie could
now see his ex’s worn and wrinkled appearance.

“I’ll call the police Eddie,” Catherine warned.

“You got someone in there?” he accused and took a step forward again.

“That’s none of your fucking business,” she answered, shaking her head.  “You’ve
still got warrants out in Vegas, asshole.  One call and you’re going for a ride
in a squad car.”

“Actually, my lawyer got all the charges dropped smartass,” he countered and
banged the door open again, causing a loud disturbance.

“Catherine,” Sara called, coming quickly down the hallway to stand at the top of
the stairs.

“What the fuck?” Eddie said, pushing past Catherine into the house and looking
up at the tall brunette standing at the top of the stairs feverishly trying to
button her shirt.   “What the fuck?” he repeated, bringing a hand to his head in
disbelief.

“Eddie?”  Sara said in confusion.  “Catherine what’s going on?”

“So, what you’re a dyke now?” Eddie all but yelled.   “And you’re fucking this
bitch?  What the fuck, Catherine?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Eddie,” Catherine yelled back, stepping up to get in
his face.

“Not until I get my daughter out of this freak show,” he screamed, eyes never
leaving hers as he pointed up the stairs at Sara’s towering figure.

“She’s not your daughter anymore, you sick son of a bitch” Catherine countered,
grabbing his arm and roughly pulling it back down to his side.  “Now, leave.”

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me, Catherine,” he said in a low voice and grabbed
her by the collar of her wrinkled shirt.   “Ever,” he yelled and began moving
forward, forcing her backward.

“Hey, back the fuck off,” Sara yelled and flew down the stairs at warp speed. 

She grabbed the medium sized man from behind and threw him into the door with a
loud bang.  With the wind knocked out of him, Sara used a forearm across Eddie’s
chest and neck to hold him back.  He started to struggle, but Sara pressed
harder and he eventually stopped.   She gave him a warning glance with her eyes
before turning to Catherine and making sure she was okay.  She was.   In fact,
she had pulled her coat out of the hall closet and was now leveling her service
weapon at her ex’s face.   Sara turned back to Eddie.

“I kicked your ass once before and I’d be glad to do it again,” she said in a
dangerous tone, close to his face.   “But I think Catherine’s a little jumpy
right now and she just might shoot you and put you out of your sorry ass misery,
you stupid fuck.   You’re leaving now and if you come back I’ll let her shoot
you and I’ll make damn sure it looks like self defense.”

With that Sara pulled back and opened both doors, pushing the man out in front
of her.  She drew a hand behind her to push down the gun still pointing at her
back without turning around.  Eddie backed off without turning his back to the
women and took slow, short steps.  Catherine dropped the gun to her side and
pushed past Sara to stick her head out the door.

“You’re never going to see Lindsey again, you bastard,” she yelled, fighting
back tears.  “You hear me?!  You’re done being her father, Eddie…if you ever
were in the first place.”

“We’ll see about that, Catherine,” he yelled back, shoving his hands in his
pockets.  “You haven’t seen the last of me, sweetheart.  Believe that,” he added
with a wide grin and turned away to walk back to his car.

Once the car pulled away, Sara pried Catherine away from the doors and shut them
quickly and quietly.   Then she tugged the gun out of Catherine’s shaky hands
and locked it back in the closet.  When she turned around, Catherine was leaning
her head against the closed oak door and digging her fingernails into the wood
so hard they looked ready to snap.   Sara could tell from the silent sniffing
and slight rising and falling of shoulders that Catherine was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” Sara said, stepping forward and placing both of her hands tightly around
both of Catherine’s wrists and pulling them back slowly. 

She was met by heavy resistance and struggled to pry Catherine’s hands off the
door.  Sara leaned forward and placed her head next to Catherine’s closely but
not touching.   She breathed steadily near Catherine’s ear and managed to pull
her away from the door and turn her around.   Catherine wouldn’t look up. 
Instead she fell forward into Sara’s strong arms almost immediately and held her
tightly, struggling to steady her breath.

“Take it easy,” Sara said quietly, rubbing Catherine’s back in a steady rhythm. 
“He’s gone.   Everything’s fine.”

“He’ll come back,” Catherine breathed.   “He always does.”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” Sara assured her.  “We’ll talk to
Brass tomorrow and see what he can do.”

“That fucking bastard.   What is he thinking?” Catherine shook her head and
stepped out of Sara’s embrace, wiping her eyes.

“Mommy,” came a call from the upstairs hallway.   “Sara.”

Catherine attempted to pass Sara and go put Lindsey back to bed, but was stopped
with a warm hand on her arm.   Sara pulled her into a sweet embrace and kissed
her soundly.

“Go have a drink or some coffee or something,” she said, pulling away and
climbing the stairs.  “I’ll go wrestle the beast,” she added with a smile before
disappearing around the corner.

Catherine fixed herself a stiff drink and knocked it back as she heard soft
giggling wafting through the house and down to her ears.  She wanted to smile,
but something inside of her wouldn’t let her do it.

Ten minutes later, as Sara came walking into the living room, the loud beeping
of a pager sounded in the still air.   Not a moment later, it was joined by a
second beeping.   Both Sara and Catherine looked at each other and groaned.

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

After promising her sister karmic rewards in her next life, Catherine was able
to drop a very sleepy and cranky Lindsey off and head into the lab for test
results.  Obviously not affected by the occasional sideways glance, Sara held
the blonde’s hand protectively as they walked through the glistening silver
hallways of CSI.

“What’s up, Greg-O?” Sara asked as they slid inside the DNA lab.

“That’s Grandmaster Greg to you,” he said with a smile.   “And I didn’t page
you.”

“You have no results for us?” Catherine asked, irritated.

“Nick’s looking for you,” he answered, turning back to his tasks.  “He’s in the
break room recaffeinating.  Oh, before I forget I do have the coroner’s report
for you,” he added, handing over the paper.   “Mother died from a
nine-millimeter slug to the head.   Girl died from a morphine overdose and lack
of O2.”

“Nothing new,” Catherine exhaled heavily.   “Thanks Greg.”

Nick was sitting at the table in the break room finishing his coffee and donut
when Catherine and Sara walked through the glass door.   He smiled up at them
and slid a file across the table, motioning for them to look at it.

“Check it out,” he said.   “It’s certifiably insane.”

“Insurance policy?” Sara asked, reading the header.

“It gets really good about halfway through,” he stated.

“Jesse Anderson had a hefty life insurance policy that pays out to Landon James
Juvenile Hospice,” Catherine read.

“She stayed there for two years from ninety-eight to late ninety-nine when she
fell into remission,” Nick explained.   “Nurse Richardson says it was the
hospice that saved that girl’s life back then.  Says Jesse loved that place more
than anything in the world she was so grateful.”

“Thank you motive,” Sara smiled.

“Shall we?” Nick asked, standing and offering an arm to her.

“Gladly,” she replied.

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

“Boy, that was a bust,” Catherine commented as they walked back into CSI after
meeting with the director, David Bandura.

“That guy was squeaky clean,” Sara agreed.

“Too clean,” Nick commented.   “I’m gonna dig a little deeper.  See you guys
tomorrow.”

“Later, Nicky,” Catherine said as he walked away.   “Can we go back home now?”

“Absolutely,” Sara replied, sliding an arm over Catherine’s shoulders and
guiding her towards the exit.  

They were met on the way in by a young man in a cheap suit and tie.  He did a
double take at the two of them and stopped in his tracks.

“Catherine Willows?” he asked, directing his eyes to Catherine.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, stopping.

“You have been served,” he said, handing over a package to her and nodding. 
“Have a good day.”

“What is it?” Sara asked, seeing the panic and tension wash over Catherine after
the young man had left and she had opened the letter.

“Eddie’s suing for full custody of Lindsey.”

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

Sara took Catherine home and gave her enough scotch to put a good sized horse
under.  After making sure that the older woman was passed out with no hope of
regaining consciousness for at least six to eight hours, Sara managed to get
O’Riley to find out where Eddie was staying.  Making sure to pack her weapon and
an extra clip, Sara headed towards the strip to pay the vile nuisance a visit.

She was taken aback first by the location of Eddie’s new digs.  It wasn’t his
usual sleazeball motel style.  In fact, the building was almost upscale and in a
decent neighborhood.   There wasn’t even a string of hookers working the
pavement in front of the address.  Sara climbed two flights of stairs, careful
to note the absence of graffiti and gratuitous writings on the walls, and
finally ended up outside of Eddie Willows’ apartment door.   She took a deep
breath and knocked.   She saw the flash of darkness pass by the peep hole and
then the door creaked open.

“Sorry, we don’t want any,” Eddie said, coming eye to eye with his wife’s new
lover.  “And we certainly don’t want any from you,” he added and leaned against
the doorframe, clearly showing his freshly shaven face and haircut and crisp
shirt and dress pants.  Sara was beginning to think they were in trouble. 

“You sure do clean up nice, Eddie,” Sara slid at him, sure to shove one foot in
to the threshold to block the door from closing.   “Your appearance might fool
the judge, but I’m sure you mouth won’t.”

“That’s funny coming from someone with obvious anger problems like you,” he
replied with a grin.   “And you’re appearance…well, let’s just say you look the
part.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sara asked, feeling her patience wear.  “I know it’s
not because you really want Lindsey.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about being a parent,” he replied.

“Don’t I?” Sara stated in a raised tone, bracing her hand on the open door. 
“Who do you think has been there since you fucked up and skipped town?   That
little girl knows me better than she’ll ever know you.”

“We’ll just have to see about that,” he countered, bring his arm up near hers
testing the territory.   “I’ve got a lawyer that makes Cochran look like an
amateur.   By the time he’s done with your precious Catherine, she’s going to
look like Mommy Dearest meets the Grim Reaper.   And they don’t give kids to
monsters like that.”

“They don’t give them to alcoholic, druggy gamblers that try and trade their
daughters to dirty old men to settle debts, either,” Sara stated, clenching her
jaw tight.

“There’s no record of that,” he smiled.   “Catherine made sure of that.  Didn’t
know, did you?” he added, noticing Sara’s slight flinch.   “She’s a peach, our
girl.  Always looking out for her man.”

Sara knew she shouldn’t have brought her gun because in a matter of seconds she
had it pressed against Eddie’s chest.   His face dropped in a mixture of shock
and anger as she twisted the barrel against his clean white shirt and gritted
her teeth.   His eyes bore into hers as they stood in a locked standstill
neither of them budging from their ground.

“She’s a good mother,” Sara managed, voice full of resentment and anger.  “She
doesn’t deserve this just because you’re jealous you’ll never taste that kind of
love and devotion again.”

“You’d know a lot about the tasting, wouldn’t you?” He replied, veins flexing in
neck and forehead.   “She’s a wild one, but I don’t envy you,” he said
flippantly.   “I’ve done things with that woman that you’ve never even dreamed
of.  How does it feel settling for used goods, huh?  No matter where you think
you’ve been, I’ve been there twice, showed it to her for the first time, and
taken her so far past the edge she had trouble hanging on.”

“You talk a lot of shit, Eddie,” Sara managed a smile through the anger and
bitterness.  “But you’ve never been where I have because she never really loved
you at all.”

That hit him like a steam engine and Sara knew it.  He immediately tensed, his
arm slamming against the doorframe so hard he began to bleed through his white
oxford shirt.  Sara reholstered her weapon before anything really bad could
happen and smiled at him sideways, a sparkle momentarily flashing past her eyes.
  She could tell it took all of his self control not to advance on her and try
his hand at violence.

“You won’t win this,” Sara warned.   “I’ll make sure of that,” she said and
walked away.

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

“You get a hit on that footprint yet?” Nick asked, poking his head in on Sara
who was slugging the last of her third cup of coffee for the day.

“Been through the database three times and nothing,” she replied, tossing the
cup over her shoulder and into the trash can.   “How bout the fingerprints?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Nick smiled.   “You may or may not like this.  Prints
on the morphine drip and the prints on the breathing machine are from two
different people.”

“So, what?  There are two perps?” she asked, rubbing her temples.

“Got me,” he answered.   “Neither are on file.”

“Great,” Sara replied.   “More work for us.”

“Maybe not,” Greg said, sticking his head in next to Nick’s.  “Got the results
back on your sandy stuff.  Zeppelin will always be classic because they…?”

“Rock,” Sara stated simply.

“And I like my tequila shots with a lemon wedge and…?”

“My foot up your ass?” Sara answered.

“Very funny,” Greg smiled.

“Salt,” Nick laughed.   “Rock salt.”

“Rock salt native to a specific quarry near Reno,” Greg elaborated.   “Had a
case with the same stuff last year for day shift.   And it gets better. 
Catherine had me do a little digging with dear old Dad and guess where he’s
employed?”

“The quarry,” Sara nodded solemnly.   “So Catherine was right.  It was her
father.”

“And the DNA under the girl’s fingernails came back as similar strand wise,” he
added.  “It most likely came from someone with at least a slight genetic
resemblance to her own DNA…like a parent.”

“Let’s get a warrant for his shoes,” Sara suggested to Nick.

“You trying to match those tracks?” Greg asked, pointing to the screen behind
Sara.

“Yeah, why?” she said.

“They’re beach shoes,” he said, simply.   “The kind surfers wear when they hit
the sand so they don’t step on anything sharp.”

“Wait a minute,” Nick said, thinking.   “Didn’t David Bandura say he’d just
gotten back from a surfing vacation in Baha?”

“Yeah and there was a picture on his desk of him holding a surfboard,” Sara
nodded.

“And the plot thickens,” Greg said, raising and eyebrow.

Sara had gotten to her feet and was getting ready to follow Greg and Nick into
the hallway when Catherine came storming past them and into the computer lab. 
She had both hands on her hips immediately.

“Hey, we’re just about to go talk to John Anderson,” Sara offered.  “You just
might have been right.”

“Nicky, Greg, please leave,” Catherine said without looking at them.  “I need to
talk to Sara alone.”

“Sure,” Nick said, casting Sara a sympathetic look and leading Greg into the
hallway closing the door behind them.

“What’s up?” Sara asked, picking at her fingernails.

“I just got off the phone with my lawyer,” she said angrily.   “You pulled a
fucking gun on Eddie??   What were you thinking?”

“I was trying to help…”

“No you weren’t,” Catherine cut her off.   “You went over there to show him
whose unit was bigger and obviously left your brain at home.  You’re lucky he
didn’t press charges.”

“I don’t like him fucking with you, Catherine.   I’m sorry,” Sara insisted.  “I
was trying to get him to back off.”

“Well that’s definitely not going to happen now,” Catherine stated.  “He’s
pissed off and even more determined than ever to go through with this.   Child
Services has been sniffing around here again.   They talked to Warrick earlier.”

“Catherine, I’m sorry,” Sara said, sincerely.   “I don’t want you to lose
Lindsey either…I don’t want to lose either of you.  I was just trying to help.”

“Well, don’t,” Catherine said, holding up a hand.   “Just let me handle this on
my own.”

“Fine,” Sara agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” Catherine nodded and turned to walk away.   “You coming?” she asked,
stopping at the door, but not turning around.

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

“I know why you’re here,” John Anderson said when the investigators showed up in
his kitchen.  “I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” he added, slamming
the whiskey bottle down on the countertop after draining it and turning red,
teary eyes towards the crowd gathered in the middle of the room.

“I’ve got nothing left now anyway,” he said and fell to his knees.

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

“I heard you have Mr. Anderson in custody,” David Bandura commented as Nick,
Catherine, Brass, and Sara made their way back into his office.  “Tragic,
really.   What can I do for you?”

“Actually we’d like to tell you a little story,” Sara answered sarcastically.

“Pardon?” the tall, dark haired man asked.

“I spoke to Maria Anderson’s lawyer yesterday and he told me the darndest
thing,” Nick said, clasping a folder at his side.   “Jesse decided to change her
will and leave at least half of her insurance money to pay for her medical
expenses.   Seems it was all a little too much for her parents to handle.”

“I had no idea,” the man replied, wiping his hands on his pants nervously.

“Yeah, and then I did a little digging into your finances and the hospice’s
financial records,” Nick said opening his folder and throwing it on Bandura’s
desk.  “Two things jumped out at me.  One, you’re in debt up to your elbows in
bad investments.  And two, someone’s been laundering the hospice’s money into a
private account for almost five years now.”

“That would be you,” Sara pointed out.

“I…” Bandura attempted.

“Can it, Davy,” Catherine stopped him.   “You’ve got a nine millimeter pistol
registered and we’re going to need to see it.”

“I was desperate,” he answered, panicking.

“That woman let you into her house and you shot her in the head,” Nick said,
growing angry.  “For money that wasn’t even really yours.”

“And you left that girl to die,” Catherine added just as angrily.  “If her
father hadn’t shown up to visit, she might still be alive.   But when he got
there she could barely catch a breath.   You drove another man to kill his own
daughter.   How does it feel?”  She turned to Brass.  “Get him out of here.”

“David Bandura, you’re under arrest for the murder of Maria Anderson and the
attempted murder of Jesse Anderson,” Brass said, stepping forward to apply the
cold, metal shackles.


“What’s going to happen to John Anderson?” Catherine asked Brass on their way to
the squad car.

“I’ll talk to the DA,” he answered.   “They’ll probably deal down to the bare
minimum sentence.   If they go to trial, it’s very possible he’ll be acquitted.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Catherine commented.

“Yeah,” Brass nodded.   “If it had been Ellie, I’d be in cuffs right now too.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Catherine smiled and placed a hand on his
shoulder.

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

“Where’s Catherine?” Greg asked Sara above the music as they sat around a small
table in their favorite watering hole.

“She doesn’t want to see me right now,” Sara answered, finishing her third beer
in a half hour.

“What’d you do?” he asked, calling for another round.

“I pulled my gun on Eddie,” Sara said, feeling slightly buzzed but definitely
not drunk.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Greg grinned and nodded.   “That’ll teach that
loser not to creep on your woman.”

“Yeah, but the more I think about it the better I think his chances are for
making a real case,” Sara admitted sadly.   “If Catherine loses Lindsey, it’ll
kill her.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Greg said seriously and covered her hand with his
own.

“Is that right?” Sara asked unbelievably.   “Should I just call you Oracle now?”

“Almighty Oracle will do just fine,” Greg answered and squeezed her hand. 
“Actually I know because you’ve got a bunch of awesome friends just waiting to
back you,” he said and motioned over Sara’s shoulder to the entrance.

Warrick, Nick, and Grissom were walking over to the table to join them.

“Grissom in a bar,” Sara said with a smirk.   “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah well, the boys said they’d make it worth my while,” he answered with a
smirk of his own.

“Catherine called CSI,” Warrick said.   “Said you weren’t answering your pager
and she needs to talk to you.”

“Great,” Sara said and took one more drink of her beer before getting up.  “How
do I look?” she asked, pulling back disheveled hair.

“Better than you smell,” Nick commented, handing her a pack of gum.

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

Catherine clicked off the cordless phone and placed it on the counter silently. 
She snaked an arm across her midsection, blindly hugging herself but adding no
comfort to her weary and anxious heart.  Her free hand came up to cover her eyes
as she fought back tears that were combating an all out war with her control to
try and break free.   The stinging in her eyes and the reflexive blinking that
came with it only increased as she heard footsteps creeping from the hallway
towards her slumping body.

Sara’s arms came around her from behind and Catherine gave into the moment for a
second before stepping away with heavy steps.   Catherine gripped the countertop
with both hands until her knuckles turned white and she felt Sara’s hand on her
shoulder softly.

“Hey,” came the concerned voice from behind her.

“Don’t,” Catherine answered, stepping away again and turning to face the
brunette who had taken a step back with confusion falling across her features.  
“Please,” Catherine managed through thick suffocating breaths as her brain
formulated what she was about to do.

“Uh, okay,” Sara replied, wringing her hands for a second at the sinking feeling
she was getting in the pit of her stomach.   A minute later, after she realized
what she was doing, her hands found themselves shoved deep into the pockets of
her jeans so hard they almost broke right through the seems of the pocket
lining.

“What’s going on, Catherine?” she asked, her eyes demanding an explanation. 
“Who was on the phone?”

“That was my lawyer,” she answered, running a trembling hand through ragged
blonde hair.  “Can we sit down?” she asked, moving towards the kitchen table.  
“There’s some stuff we need to talk about…”

“I’d rather stand,” Sara answered, not moving an inch.

Catherine stopped in mid-step and turned back to her girlfriend.  She laced her
fingers together and twisted and turned her hands against each other trying to
find courage somewhere on the kitchen tile where her eyes were rooted.   Biting
her lip, she looked up into deep, brown eyes that seemed to be turning darker
with every passing moment.

“I really need you to try and understand…”

“Fuck, Catherine,” Sara interrupted her and crossed her arms over her chest. 
“Just say it.”

“My lawyer thinks it would be best if we cooled down for a while,” Catherine
finally blurted out, immediately feeling the world collapse around her.  “At
least until the trial is over.”

“What?!?” Sara almost shouted in disbelief.

“He thinks that if Eddie and his lawyer bring up our relationship and can prove
alternative lifestyle combined with my past and my present work situation that
he’ll have a real shot at gaining custody,” she explained.  “Or at least a shot
at getting Lindsey taken away from me.”

“He’d do that?” Sara commented.   “Have his own daughter thrown in the system
just so he can take her away from you?”

“It’s Eddie,” Catherine answered flatly.

“Which is exactly my point,” Sara replied.   “You think that any judge would
give custody of an eight year old child to the man who tried to sell her into
the sex slave trade in order to settle a gambling bet?!  Not to mention his
drinking, his absence and his penchant for hookers…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Catherine cut her off.   “We drew the shortest straw this
time, Sara.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Somehow Eddie’s lawyer managed to get Judge Steiner, whose father is a Catholic
priest and just happens to be a firm believer in the patriarchal family system,”
Catherine explained.   “That includes a mother and a father.  Not the two of
us.”

“And that’s it?” Sara shot back.   “You’re just going to let them win.”

“I can’t lose my daughter.”

“You’ve never given up on anything in your life, Catherine,” Sara said, feeling
the heat coursing through her veins.   “No matter what hand you’ve been dealt,
you’ve always fought for what you knew was right.  You’re just going to give up
now?  After everything we’ve been through together?

“You’re a great mother, Catherine,” Sara continued.   “And I love Lindsey like
she was mine, too.   So what if our choices get put on trial.   We’ll face it
together and we’ll come out of it alright.   We always do.  This isn’t the
seventeenth century, Catherine.  They’re not going to burn us at the stake for
loving each other.”

“Aren’t they, though?” Catherine countered.   “Isn’t that exactly what they’ll
do?   Gay couples have a harder time adopting kids, not matter how great of
parents they are.  They have a harder time getting recognized as a family.  We
need to face the reality that it does matter.   It shouldn’t, but it does.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sara said, leaning against the counter and
shooting Catherine a stare that was equal parts rage and sorrow.  “I can’t
believe you’re going to end this without even trying.”

“You think this is easy for me?   That I want to do this?   That the thought of
losing you doesn’t rip the life from me?” Catherine shot back.  “I have hard
enough time balancing being a single mother, working sixty hours a week, and
trying to be with you at the same time without having to defend my life choices
to the entire world and a man who knows absolutely nothing about me but what my
sleaze bag ex and his overpriced lawyer tell him.   This is a battle that I have
every possibility of losing no matter what I do,” she said and paused for a
second, locking her eyes with Sara’s and trying to bring understanding to the
surface.   “And that’s a chance I’m just not willing to take.”

“I don’t want this to be the end,” she added.   “Just until the court case is
over.”

“Fine,” Sara said, through clenched teeth as she stepped forward and walked past
Catherine without looking at her, then paused and turned back around.  “I know
you’ve got a lot of balls in the air, Catherine.  That it’s hard for you to keep
everything going.   Most of those balls bounce back if you drop them for a
while.   But some of them shatter the second you let them go and putting them
back together is impossible.  You sure you know which is which?”

“Sara…” Catherine tried, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak at all.

“Good luck,” Sara replied, fighting back her own tears.   She pulled her car
keys from her leather jacket and looked at Catherine one last brief moment
before turning away and walking towards the front door.   She had her hand on
the doorknob when she turned around again.   “Tell Lindsey I…tell her I…I’m sure
you’ll think of something,” Sara settled for and walked out of the house before
she could see Catherine crumble or let Catherine see her crumble.

Catherine watched the door closed with a sound that was deafening and silent at
the same time.   She finally let the tears wash over her, though not even close
to cleansing her for what she had just done.  Covering her face with her hands,
she slumped down to the floor leaning against the kitchen counter and stayed
that way until morning.

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

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am.”

“And if I try talking some sense into you?”

“It won’t help, Grissom,” Sara answered with a small smile.  “Never has before. 
Why should it start now?”

“What if I just rip this up and pretend like I never got it?” he asked,
motioning to the paper in his hand.

“I’ve got a copy on my hard drive, mailed one on my way in this afternoon, and
have a spare in my backpack just in case,” she answered, motioning to the bag
slung over her shoulder.   “Give it up, Grissom.  My mind’s made up.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, dropping the paper on his desk.

“I’ve had a rough year,” she answered simply.   “I’ve been shot, stalked,
kidnapped….”

“Broken hearted?” he offered.

“I need a change.”

“Go work for ballistics.”

“Grissom…”

“The team will miss you,” he said, turning almost serious and pausing to raise
penetrating eyes to hers.   “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll find someone else,” Sara replied, averting her eyes and edging towards
the door to his office.   She stopped halfway out, with one foot in the hallway
and turned back to him.  “You can find beauty in everything, Grissom.  Remember
that,” she said with a smile and was gone.

“How could I forget,” he said to the closed door.   “And you’re wrong.  There’s
no one else,” he said quietly and sat down, spinning his chair around so he
wouldn’t have to look at Sara’s resignation letter anymore.

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

Sara held onto Greg so tightly she was sure he wasn’t breathing anymore.  His
hands gripped the back of her jacket so hard, she would feel safe betting there
would be imprints there when he let go.  Giving him one last squeeze, she pulled
back and reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.  He was breathing ragged
through an open mouth and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I…” he finally said, looking up with bloodshot eyes and wiping at them
furiously with the sleeves of his lab coat.  

“I know,” she finished for him, pulling at the bottom of his shirttails with
both hands.  “I’ll call you when I get there.”

He nodded, his lip trembling again.   Sara reached up, placing both hands on
either side of his face and pressed her lips against Greg’s firmly.   He kissed
her back for a moment before it was over.   A small smile crept across his lips.
  Sara tousled his hair one last time, smiled, and walked out of the DNA lab and
into the bright lights of the hallway.

Turning to look around one last time, she caught sight of Warrick down the hall
to her left.  He stopped, tossing a folder from one hand to the other and stood
completely cool almost no expression readable on his face.   Sara turned to
regard him with a half smile.   He nodded just once, smiled, and walked through
the double doors leaving nothing but a trail of footsteps behind him.

“So, it’s true,” Nick said from behind her, causing her to jump slightly before
turning to look at him.   “You know this is a mistake, right?” he asked with a
smile.

“You’re entitled to your opinion,” Sara answered with a smile of her own. 
“However if I want it, next time I’ll ask you first.”

“See,” he said, opening his arms wide.   “Who’s gonna bust my balls now?”

“There’s a line forming down the hall,” she replied, pointing.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Actually, I do.  I’m doing the right thing,” Sara said with a grin and took a
step back towards the exit.

Nick stepped forward quickly, snaking one hand around Sara’s waist.  The other
curved around the back of her neck pulling her close to him.   He placed his
lips close to her ear, whispering.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t look like you’re going to burst into tears
right now,” he said softly.   “You think nobody cares…nobody   knows…nobody
understands.  Well, you’re wrong.  You’re so wrong.”

He stepped back, running a hand through her hair and down the side of her cheek
and then they broke all contact completely.   Sara kept her eyes glued to his
for a minute feeling the moisture crawling around the rims like an unwelcome
storm about to explode.

“Bye, Nicky,” she said simply, turning on her heel and gliding towards the exit
in a surreal state.   She slid her sunglasses over her eyes, mainly to hide the
tears, and then she was gone.

“See you soon,” Nick called after her with a small grin.

Catherine exited the ladies room, almost running into a teary-eyed Greg who
refused to look at her.   She saw Nick staring down the hallway at Sara’s
retreating figure and walked over to him with legs that were threatening to
buckle at the knees.   She stopped at his side and watched as Sara passed
through both sets of double doors, backpack held over one shoulder walking
coolly.

“What’s going on?” she asked, feeling her chest get tight.

“Just saying goodbye,” Nick answered and walked away, leaving Catherine to stare
at the empty hallway alone.

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

“Sara,” Catherine called as she pulled her keys from the apartment door and
closed it behind her.

She stepped into the apartment and was temporarily relieved when everything
looked normal.  Magazines were still scattered on the coffee table.   The
answering machine and phone were still hooked up.   But when she opened the
refrigerator and notice it was empty, the relief quickly slipped from her body. 
She ran to the bathroom and pulled open the medicine cabinet.   Empty. 
Catherine’s toothbrush sat cradled in its holder alone.  Sara’s was missing.

Catherine finally made it into the bedroom where she all but broke down
completely.  The closet and drawers were empty, almost like there was no sign of
life there left at all.  No sign of their life together.  On the bed was a box
filled with clothes that Catherine recognized as being her own.   A small piece
of paper folded in half with her name on it sat on top of the clothes.  She
picked it up with shaking hands and flipped it open.

                        Love waits for no one.

Her heart sank.

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

Sara picked up the phone next to her as the pilot came on over the loudspeaker. 
His voice crackled and the ground flew past Sara’s window as he spoke.

“We’re right on schedule folks,” he said.   “We should be touching down in San
Francisco in about an hour.  Please remain seated during the landing sequence. 
Thank you and have a great stay in sunny California .”

Sara dialed a number she had almost forgotten and brought the receiver up to her
ear as she looked out the window into the depths of blue sky surrounding her. 
Two rings later, the other end picked up.

“DeLorenzo.”

“Hey,” Sara said with a smile, hearing the familiar voice.

“Who’s this?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my voice just because it’s been a few months
since I’ve called,” Sara teased.

“How could I ever forget a voice as sweet as yours,” she was teased back.  “And
it’s been more than a few months.  I was ready to send out a search party.”

“Fuck you.”

“If you weren’t hundreds of miles away, I might seriously have to think about
taking you up on that offer.”

“I’m about to get a whole lot closer,” Sara said, feeling nervous and relaxed at
the same time.

“What?  Where are you?”

“Thirty thousand feet,” Sara answered with a satisfied grin and could feel her
old friend smiling against the phone on the other end.  “I’m coming home.”