The Fury of Love - CatNip RP

Sara jumped as her phone rang. She listened to the firmilliar tune as she shoved through her bag, searching for the cell. She found it and flipped it open without checking the caller ID.

"Sidle." She listened, nodding her head to no one in particular. "Alright. I'm on my way." Grissom. He wanted them all to hurry to his office. There was 'a lot going on tonight,' he had said. Sara turned on her heel and made way to Grissoms office, her new high heels tapping briskly on the laminent flooring, curled hair swinging, eyes lighting up as she thought of who she was about to see. Her skirt swung neatly above her knees, and her blouse rippled in all the right places. He hadn't seen her yet tonight. He was going to be impressed. She did herself up for him tonight.
 
Nick hopped in, furious with himself. He should've just told her how he felt instead of that! Then he wouldn't have been as devastated..or would he? He shook his head as he started the Denali pulling out of the lot and onto the busy streets of Las Vegas. “That was Grissom he wants us all to report to his office. Supposedly there is a lot going on tonight." He nodded, running a hand absently through his dark brown hair, eyes trying to concentrate on the road and not the woman beside him, not even bothering to break the silence between them.
 
Catherine cleared her throat as she walked into Grissom’s office. Nick followed behind. She noticed that the others were already there, and when she walked in Grissom looked up from a report.

“Glad everyone made it,” he said. He looked over at Sara with puzzlement written on his face, and then decided to just go ahead and hand out the assignments.

“Catherine, Nick…burglary in the Shadows neighborhood. Be sure to call Brass before you arrive.” Catherine scoffed under her breath. “You’re giving me a burglary?” Grissom stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head yes, and continued with his orders.

“Sarah, Greg…you will take the homicide at the Highball bar.” “That leaves Warrick who will work with me on a body found in the desert.” Grissom put his hands in the air, and then waved them all off.
 
Sara rolled her eyes as she hurried out of Grissom's office, Greg scurrying behind her.

"Can I drive?"

"No, Greg."

"Please?"

"No, Greg."

"Please?"

"No, Greg."

"Ple-"

"No."

They walked past the receptionist's desk, Sara's eyes focused on the door.

"Can I-"

"No."

"C-"

"No."

Greg was silent as they walked another few steps.

"No."

"What was that for?"

"Well, you're going to ask again, so I just got it out of the way." Sara watched Greg hang his head slightly as she unlocked the Denali and climbed in, their kits already in the back seat.

"Can I drive on the way back?"

"No."

- Sorry for taking Greg, I just had to do that.
 
Nick just sort of glared at Grissom momentarily, silently cursing him for puting him the last person he wanted to work with tonight. And that look Grissom gave Sara? What was that about? Although, she was looking kind of dressed up and cute tonight... He sighed as they walked silently past the receptionist.

"I guess you can drive if you want, I drove here, and I'll deal with Brass. You seemed ticked off as it is that it's a burglary." With that he dug through his pockets and lightly tossed Catherine the keys.
 
When Sara and Greg arrived at the Highball, Greg was still pouting about Sara not letting him drive. She rolled her eyes again and stepped out of the Denali, opening the back door. She saw Greg jump up and run around to her side of the navy vehicle, almost pushed her out of the way, and grabbing both their kits.

"Let me take this for you," he said, smiling that goofy Sander's grin. She shook her head, but walked on ahead.

"Greggo, you take the perimater, you never know what you could find." She quickly scanned the outside of the bar with her keen 7-year trained CSI eye. She nodded toward the outside wall.

"Broken window. There, on the left." He followed her gaze and nodded, handing her back her kit and setting off. Sara went inside, clutching her kit in her left hand and opening the door with her right. She gazed around the grusome scene, and her heart jumped up in her throat.

There were two people lying on the ground, probably on what was the dance floor. They were surrounded in blood, and lying approximatley 3ft apart. One, female, Caucasion, mid-twenties, Sara guessed, brunette, average height, average weight. The other, female, Caucasion, same age, height and weight, blonde. They were both dressed in tight jeans and tanktops, high heels.

Sara walke over broken bottles and liquid, photographing everything as she went. She put yellow numbered evidence tags near each piece of evidence, photograping mulitples. Upon arriving near the bodies, she noticed one of the girls, the blonde, was missing a shoe. She photographed the bodies, and noted the pools of blood, sighing. Big pools. This meant every three inches needed to be swabbed, and labled. She was going to need Greg's help.
 
Catherine gave Nick a look as she caught the keys. “Thanks.” She could feel the tension between them as she tore out of the parking lot. “What?” She immediately asked as she caught his stare from the corner of her eye. “Seriously Nicky…what was that back there at…at…the bar?” She asked softly barely above a whisper. She felt the heat rise up to her cheeks as she thought back to his kiss. Her mind was now torturing her with vivid flashbacks. Could he tell how his one kiss affected her? Could he see the heat rising up in her cheeks? Could he feel her fear? Or did he think she rejected him? She felt his pull, and his rush for desire that she equally wanted to transmit back to him, but was afraid to do so. His voice immediately brought her back to reality and out of her delirium.
 
Bored with nothing to do at her nana's house, Lindsey decided that she would call her mom, wondering if she might actually be able to get a little time off, at least for one night so that they could go and catch a movie together, or something. They hadn't spent any major Mother/Daughter quality time together in a while, and Lindsey was actually starting to miss it. After looking up what movies were playing that night on the internet, Lindsey dug her cell phone out of her purse and called Catherine's, listening to it ring, hoping that she would pick up and wasn't already too busy out working on a case, or something.
 
Nick sighed, shaking his head. "Cath, what do you think it was?" And with that, not really in the mood to discuss it, uneasy with himself and his feelings, he opened his cell and hit the speed dial for Jim.

"Captain Brass."
"Hey, Jim, it's Nick. Griss told me to call you ahead of time."
"Yeah, appears we have more than a burglary."
"How so?"
"Three db's, three different rooms, two kids, all stripped and very good chance sexually assaulted." Nick was silent, his head swimming back to his childhood, but pulled back to the present, his eyes softening at the situation.

"Alright Jim, we're turning onto the road now." Closing the phone, he droped it to his lap and stared out the windshield, his memories scaring his view, not a word said.
 
Catherine's anger melted immediately upon hearing Nick on the phone with Brass. If she heard him right a mother and her two daughters were tortured by sexual means, and then murdered. She looked over at Nick who obviously had not handled the news that well at all. She knew why too. A year or so ago he had confided in her about the sexual abuse he endured when his mom left him alone with a babysitter. Her heart went out to him then as it did now. She could not refrain herself as her arm slowly reached out, and touched his bicep. “Nick…you okay with this case?” She asked lightly not wanting to offend him. His face immediately hardened, and Catherine feared he might lash out at her. “Because I want you on this case if you’re up to it…I know you will be thorough.” Then without warning and not even realizing her own intensions, she leaned over to him and whispered in his ear “I didn’t reject you!” She then immediately climbed out of the Denali, and headed to the rear to get her kit.
 
(thats ok, im back now :))

Greg looked over to the window where Sara pointed, gave her a big grin and walked over to the window. He had been in the field for over a year now, but he still loved the rush he got from going to an actual crime scene and collecting evidence, rather than just processing it.

He got out his torch and flashed it around the window ledge. The window had been completely popped out except for a few shards of glass. Greg snapped a few photos of the window and then started processing it. On the bottom corner of the window he spotted a substance that looked like blood. So he took a swab nd bagged it, then got out his luminol and sprayed the rest of the window with it, but no other traces were found. He then continued to process the window finding nothing until near the end, when he found a black thread which looked like cotton. He bagged it, then got out his cell to phone Sara.

"Hey Sara, its Greg. I found a black cotton thread on the window. And i was thinking that if none of your vics are wearing any material that corresponds to that thread, then it could belong to the suspect? What do you think?"

He loved that bit of the job, the finding bits of evidence and coming up with theories, plus he thought that if he could impress Sara, shed finally let him drive the Denali back to the lab. He always laughed it off, but secretely he hated the fact that noone ever let him drive.
 
Sara observed her the vics again, carefully stepping over her various evidence tags she had placed around. She had finished her main photographing, and had just started collecting when her phone rang. It was Greg.

"Hey Sara, it's Greg," he rushed, obviously excited, "I found a black cotton thread on the window. And I was thinking that if none of your vics are wearing any material that corresponds to that thread, then it could belong to the suspect? What do you think?"

"Well," she said, still looking at the girls lying in pools of their own blood, "one of the girls is wearing a black tank-top, but I'm not sure if it's cotton or spandex. I'll get David to check when he does his thing." Sara heard someone walk in to her crime scene, and immediatley tensed up. It was only David.

"Okay, Greg. I'm going to go finish up in here. When you're done outside, I need help swabbing, fingerprinting and collecting. I'm almost done the main collection now, but.. Alright."

David carefully walked over the remaining glass and liquid to the two dead bodies lying near Sara.

"Hi, Sara," he said sheepishly. Sara smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, David." She watched him work for a while, then went back to her own. "Oh, David, could you check the lable on the girls' shirts, see if it's cotton or spandex."

"Sure." He checked to lable's and looked up, "neither are cotton."

Sara almost smiled. That ment they could have a suspect.

"Thanks, David." Sara walked back to the vics while David got the liver temperatures.

"They've been dead about 4 hours. And I have an ID," Sara looked at the wallet's in David's hands. "Sara, these girls are only 15 and 16. They shouldn't have been here." Sara's jaw dropped as David read the names, "Kristie O'Connell is the blonde, and the brunette is Sasha Deer."

Sara looked astonished that such young girls could even be let NEAR a club, let alone in: "I'll call Brass."
 
Greg was pleased that Sara thought his theory could be possible, not just cos she might let him drive, but also cos she was the one who mentored him for the whole of last year, and he wanted her to realise that she had actually taught him something. He then set off to help her.

When he entered the bar and looked around he thought it looked familiar but he couldnt quite place it. He then saw Sara crouching down by the two vics. He walked over to her, and noticed she looked surprised, "heya homie" he said trying to make her laugh, he then looked down and saw what she was looking at. "Huh, you never told me you had a twin?" he said smirking,setting down his kit.
 
Sara looked up from the brunette. Something was firmilliar about her..

"Huh, you never told me you had a twin," Greg said, setting down his kit.

"I don't have a twin," Sara said quietly, almost in a whisper. She knew this girl. "I think U know her, Greg," she said, a little louder, referring to Sasha Deer. Deer, Deer, Deer.. Sara knew the name.

"Okay," she said quickly, snapping out of her trance, "I need help with this mess," she motioned to the clutter of evidence bags, broken glass, and evidence tags around the room. "You can start to fingerprint the bar." She sighed when Greg groaned, "Don't, Greg. Fingerprint the bar. I'm going to finish up the last of this collection, and then search behind the bar." Sara started off towards the door, and while Greg stood, transfixed on the brunette girl, Sara called Brass.

"Brass."

"Brass, I need you to find Sasha Deer and Kristie O'Connell's parents, and get them to the station. Soon. They're girls are dead." Sara closed her phone without even saying goodbye, and went on with the last 6 pieces of evidence collection while Greg fingerprinted the bar, the bathroom door handles and front door handles, coming up with almost 49 prints that could be made out. Some were smudged, some were partials, some full prints.

Sara walked behind the bar, did a search of the room, and inside both bathrooms, checking toilets, sinks, spraying the sinks with luminol. The third sink the the male bathroom lit up bright blue when she sprayed it. She pulled a swab out of her vest pocket and swabbed the sink, pulling it inside the plastic container and putting it back in the pocket.

Sara finshed the bathrooms, and went out to report to Greg what she had found. She went behind the bar to find him crouched over to the bottom shelf with a towel in his hand. Wrapped in the towel was a bloody knife. Sara gasped.

"I found blood in the sink in the guy's room," she said as Greg stood up, "Photographed it. Now, let me see that." Sara pulled her camera from around her neck and snapped three photos of the knife in the towel.

"We've been here three hours now, Greg. Grab your kit and evidence, and let's go."
 
Greg was about to reply that it was a joke and that he had never seen her in his life, but then Sara went back into CSI and got him to do some more processng. Before he left to clear up, he stood and looked at the brunette, there was something about her that he just couldnt put his finger on, she seriously reminded him of Sara but he couldnt quite grasp why. He then shrugged his shoulders and cleared up, then made his way to the bar.

As he started processing through the bottles of different alcohols under the bar, he noticed something silver glinting from behind some unopened champagne. He moved the bottle and spotted a blood stained knife wrapped in a towel, he quickly photogrpahed it and bagged it. Sara then entered and he showed it to her, she then took it from him and told him to effectively hurry up. 'wow someone got out of the wrong side of bed this morning' he thought. He followed her out to the Denali, not daring to ask to drive.

They got in the car and drove back to the lab in silence. Greg hated awkward silences so he tried to make some light conversation. "So you going to the office Halloween party? Im just asking cos im trying to get the whole night shift to go as superheroes and im giving you first pick, im superman of course" he said chuckling. Sara smirked but gave no real reply. "Ok, Sara whats wrong?" he asked genuinely worried.
 
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