G
Guest
Guest
I woke up the other day with this story stuck in my head – no idea where it came from, haven’t even thought of the cross over show in years – but, alas, here we are!
Can anyone guess which show this is crossed with???
Please Read and Review. I’ll reveal which show this is crossed with in the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. God do I wish I did though!
Picks up right after Happenstance on CSI.
**********************************************************************
There was nothing in the world that Sara Sidle really disliked more than wasting an entire day waiting for an appearance in court. She would have thought that the judges and attorney’s would understand that there are still more evil people in this world who need to be brought to justice so a CSI’s job is never done and wasting the entire day of one as dedicated as Sara was nothing short of infuriating. So, stopping in briefly at the station to see how everyone else’s evening had gone she found herself relatively put off by Grissom’s behavior when she stopped in to tell him she was heading home.
Kicking her shoes off in the front foyer of the split-level they purchased nearly 3 months ago, she found herself rather obsessively mulling over his final expression as she made her way to the Kitchen. Things had seemed off with him lately and while she understands his need for privacy sometimes she just wishes she could force him to confide in her. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge she begins making her way up to the second level of the house to change and go for her morning run. Somehow, running always seemed to clear her head and after Grissom’s even more unusual than usual behavior she certainly needed a little bit to think.
Slipping into her cotton track suit she begins descending the stairs when she hears a soft knock at the front door. Putting her water down on the coffee table she cautiously makes her way to the front door, uneasy that someone would be there as no-one even knows that she and Grissom had moved. Stealing a peak out the spy-hole Sara finds herself reeling from the face she sees on the other side of the door. Never before had Sara believed in ghosts, yet somehow, a woman that she had known to die nearly 13 years ago appeared to be standing not more than 3 feet away with only six inches of wood separating them.
Cautiously pulling the door opening, Sara stands gaping for a moment at the woman before her. They had met oh-so-many years ago when Sara was a CSI in San Francisco. Sara’s heart had gone out to the woman, a woman who at the time was a suspected cop-killer; yet somehow even though the evidence was overwhelmingly against her, Sara always believed that she was innocent. For some reason, things had seemed a bit too cut and dry. Even after she had been imprisoned for life Sara had made regular visits to see how she was – how she was holding up. Somewhere along the lines, they became friends. Then, one day when she went to visit her she was told that she had died. There was no further explanation, no details, just that she was dead and to leave it at that. Nothing about this woman’s situation ever seemed to sit right for Sara.
Pulling the door open further, Sara stepped aside without a word to allow the woman entrance. Even now, after all of those years, she had the kindest eyes Sara could ever remember seeing – especially for a dead woman. “How?” Sara begins, looking at her in awe. “I was told that you were dead.”
“I am” The woman replies, a large smile spreading across her features. She takes a moment to look over the current area of the house she is standing in. “You’ve done well for yourself Sara.”
“The last time I saw you, you were in prison. Then, I’m told that you’re dead. Now, here you are standing in my living room looking like a million dollars. I don’t understand. You’re going to have to explain this to me a bit.” Sara eyes her skeptically, unsure of how she should be handling this situation, or if she should be handling it at all.
The woman steps towards Sara as to offer some sort of reassurance but Sara steps back, caution written all over her features. “I can’t answer your questions. I’m sorry for that, and I have no right to be here, but you once told me that you were willing to help me and you are the closest thing that I have ever had to a friend outside of the world I now live in. I need your help Sara.”
Sara eyes her, her resolve slowly dissolving at the honesty and need emanating from the woman before her. “What do you mean ‘the world you now live in’? We all live in the same world.”
“I told you Sara, I can’t explain, I wish I could, but that would put you and all of those that you know in grave danger. Honestly, I have probably done so simply by coming here, but like I said, I need your help and I had no where else to turn.” Sara can see the fear in her eyes yet no other outward display of emotion is detectable, if she had to use any single world to describe the woman before her it would be none other than ‘controlled’.
Motioning for them to move over toward the couch, Sara sits down with a resigned sigh. “I have friends that are cops. We can go to the authorities if you’re in any kind of trouble.”
The woman lets out a loud laugh. “Cops can’t find ghosts Sara and I’m looking for someone who can’t be found.”
Suddenly feeling like she can relate to Grissom and his migraines, Sara rubs her temples for a moment trying to understand the information that she’s being told. “You’re looking for a ghost? How do you expect me to help you find someone that you say can’t be located? Who are you looking for?”
The woman’s eyes momentarily glaze over as though her memory has suddenly swept her back to another time and place. “The man I’m looking for won’t be found unless he wants to be. Children, however, are harder to conceal.” The woman looks at her almost pleadingly, the controlled woman she had previously encountered all but melted away. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“We’ll find him.” Sara replies, unsure as to why exactly she’s agreeing to help this woman, this ghost who died 13 years ago and just suddenly swept in through her front door, naught but a reminder of who Sara remembered her to be. “Who are you looking for?”
“His name is Michael Samuelle.”
Can anyone guess which show this is crossed with???
Please Read and Review. I’ll reveal which show this is crossed with in the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. God do I wish I did though!
Picks up right after Happenstance on CSI.
**********************************************************************
There was nothing in the world that Sara Sidle really disliked more than wasting an entire day waiting for an appearance in court. She would have thought that the judges and attorney’s would understand that there are still more evil people in this world who need to be brought to justice so a CSI’s job is never done and wasting the entire day of one as dedicated as Sara was nothing short of infuriating. So, stopping in briefly at the station to see how everyone else’s evening had gone she found herself relatively put off by Grissom’s behavior when she stopped in to tell him she was heading home.
Kicking her shoes off in the front foyer of the split-level they purchased nearly 3 months ago, she found herself rather obsessively mulling over his final expression as she made her way to the Kitchen. Things had seemed off with him lately and while she understands his need for privacy sometimes she just wishes she could force him to confide in her. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge she begins making her way up to the second level of the house to change and go for her morning run. Somehow, running always seemed to clear her head and after Grissom’s even more unusual than usual behavior she certainly needed a little bit to think.
Slipping into her cotton track suit she begins descending the stairs when she hears a soft knock at the front door. Putting her water down on the coffee table she cautiously makes her way to the front door, uneasy that someone would be there as no-one even knows that she and Grissom had moved. Stealing a peak out the spy-hole Sara finds herself reeling from the face she sees on the other side of the door. Never before had Sara believed in ghosts, yet somehow, a woman that she had known to die nearly 13 years ago appeared to be standing not more than 3 feet away with only six inches of wood separating them.
Cautiously pulling the door opening, Sara stands gaping for a moment at the woman before her. They had met oh-so-many years ago when Sara was a CSI in San Francisco. Sara’s heart had gone out to the woman, a woman who at the time was a suspected cop-killer; yet somehow even though the evidence was overwhelmingly against her, Sara always believed that she was innocent. For some reason, things had seemed a bit too cut and dry. Even after she had been imprisoned for life Sara had made regular visits to see how she was – how she was holding up. Somewhere along the lines, they became friends. Then, one day when she went to visit her she was told that she had died. There was no further explanation, no details, just that she was dead and to leave it at that. Nothing about this woman’s situation ever seemed to sit right for Sara.
Pulling the door open further, Sara stepped aside without a word to allow the woman entrance. Even now, after all of those years, she had the kindest eyes Sara could ever remember seeing – especially for a dead woman. “How?” Sara begins, looking at her in awe. “I was told that you were dead.”
“I am” The woman replies, a large smile spreading across her features. She takes a moment to look over the current area of the house she is standing in. “You’ve done well for yourself Sara.”
“The last time I saw you, you were in prison. Then, I’m told that you’re dead. Now, here you are standing in my living room looking like a million dollars. I don’t understand. You’re going to have to explain this to me a bit.” Sara eyes her skeptically, unsure of how she should be handling this situation, or if she should be handling it at all.
The woman steps towards Sara as to offer some sort of reassurance but Sara steps back, caution written all over her features. “I can’t answer your questions. I’m sorry for that, and I have no right to be here, but you once told me that you were willing to help me and you are the closest thing that I have ever had to a friend outside of the world I now live in. I need your help Sara.”
Sara eyes her, her resolve slowly dissolving at the honesty and need emanating from the woman before her. “What do you mean ‘the world you now live in’? We all live in the same world.”
“I told you Sara, I can’t explain, I wish I could, but that would put you and all of those that you know in grave danger. Honestly, I have probably done so simply by coming here, but like I said, I need your help and I had no where else to turn.” Sara can see the fear in her eyes yet no other outward display of emotion is detectable, if she had to use any single world to describe the woman before her it would be none other than ‘controlled’.
Motioning for them to move over toward the couch, Sara sits down with a resigned sigh. “I have friends that are cops. We can go to the authorities if you’re in any kind of trouble.”
The woman lets out a loud laugh. “Cops can’t find ghosts Sara and I’m looking for someone who can’t be found.”
Suddenly feeling like she can relate to Grissom and his migraines, Sara rubs her temples for a moment trying to understand the information that she’s being told. “You’re looking for a ghost? How do you expect me to help you find someone that you say can’t be located? Who are you looking for?”
The woman’s eyes momentarily glaze over as though her memory has suddenly swept her back to another time and place. “The man I’m looking for won’t be found unless he wants to be. Children, however, are harder to conceal.” The woman looks at her almost pleadingly, the controlled woman she had previously encountered all but melted away. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“We’ll find him.” Sara replies, unsure as to why exactly she’s agreeing to help this woman, this ghost who died 13 years ago and just suddenly swept in through her front door, naught but a reminder of who Sara remembered her to be. “Who are you looking for?”
“His name is Michael Samuelle.”
