Hidden Truths Chapter Ten : Aftershocks
Title : Aftershocks 
Author : Mel
Summary : Hidden Truths Chapter 10.  More obstacles arise as Catherine and Sara 
try to settle back into life in Vegas.   And a new case is rather unsettling.   
Sara/Catherine.
Timeline : Okay, now this is important.  gij (who rocks btw – go read her fic ) 
pointed out a lot of great things to me that I needed to twiddle with, but most 
importantly that this installment is set about a month and a half after C+S have 
returned to Vegas from San Francisco and since I haven’t found a way to make 
this very clear in the story they’ve also been doing their best to avoid dealing 
with the reasons and motivations for Sara’s leaving in the first place and its 
ramifications not only for her but for Catherine as well and it’s about to 
snowball and bite them both in the ass.
Disclaimer : I’m just borrowing.  All characters and everything else CSI belongs 
to Zuiker, Bruckheimer and CBS. Please don’t sue.  I’ve heard it’s impossible to 
get blood from a stone…
Rating : NC17 for very mild ‘bondage’, biting, language, and reference to 
incest.   You have been warned.
Feedback : Goes here : fivebyfive13@prodigy.net 
Author’s Note : If you’re reading this right now, I want to thank you for 
waiting the two months for me to get my shit together and continue the series.   
Saying that I need to thank Mary a whole bunch for giving me the ‘Shay the lab 
tech and Sara subplot’ and Shatterpath for giving me the ‘let Catherine loose’ 
advice.   This is my first remotely graphic C/S sex scene, I hope it translates 
well.  This is as yet un-beta’d and still a little rough around the edges.  In 
any event, I hope it is much enjoyed.  The lyrics are from Yellowcard’s ‘Rough 
Draft’ because that’s how I tend to view Sara’s character a lot of the time -- 
as a rough draft…someone still learning and feeling herself out.  Anyway…Happy 
Holidays to all.
 
 
 
 
“I'm finding my own words, my own little stage
my own epic drama, my own scripted page
I'll send you the rough draft, I'll seal it with tears
Maybe you'll read it and I'll reappear
From the start it was shaky and the characters rash,
A nice setting for heartache where emotions come last
All I have deep inside, to overcome this desire
are friendly intentions and fair-weather smiles.”
 
 
 
 
“Christ, this floor is cold,” Sara fell onto her back, the thin material of her 
shirt doing nothing to fight off the biting coolness of the hard tile she was 
now lying on.
 
“Shut up,” Catherine instructed with a small grin, crawling on top of Sara and 
crushing their lips together to emphasize her point.
 
Catherine lowered herself onto Sara completely, their lips still tangled in a 
seriously demanding kiss, and slid a leg in between the brunette’s.  Hands 
braced on either side of Sara’s body, Catherine pushed her tongue past willing 
lips and took command of the kiss devouring Sara’s mouth with rapid intensity.   
Sara squirmed beneath her as the blonde applied the first small pressure to 
Sara’s sex, feeling the heat easily even through the rough material of both 
pairs of their jeans.  The kiss broke, Sara pulling back only inches, mouth 
open, eyes hooded and burning with desire and want as Catherine’s strong thigh 
rocked against her.
 
Breathing quickly becoming heavy and difficult, eyes locked with Catherine’s, 
Sara continued to move her hips against Catherine, blonde hair falling around 
her face like a halo.   Sara raised her arms to Catherine’s shoulders, desperate 
to hold onto something as she felt herself beginning to spin out of control, but 
the blonde caught her wrists in either hand and slammed them down onto the floor 
on either side of Sara’s head.  Catherine held Sara’s wrists firmly against the 
floor as she leaned forward to claim hot, warm lips before moving further down 
to throat, neck, and finally up and around to soft earlobe.  Sara pressed 
forward with her hands and arms, but was met with concrete resistance as 
Catherine forced her arms back down and held onto control of Sara…control of the 
situation.
 
Catherine felt Sara’s body tense uncomfortably and she let up on her grip 
slightly, a sign that she noticed, and understood but also that she needed it to 
be this way…that Catherine needed to be in control, needed for Sara to give her 
that and trust her with it.  Catherine’s leg stilled, her tongue trailing over 
Sara’s ear, teeth catching her earlobe and pulling hard.  She could feel Sara’s 
breathing coming faster, the heat between them rising, but still the brunette 
hadn’t relaxed.  Pushing up against Sara’s hands and twining their fingers 
together, Catherine pulled back just enough to regard the hunger, need, and 
nervousness in the brunette’s eyes.   Her resistance wasn’t with Catherine, it 
was with herself.   Sara wanted this, to give Catherine everything and anything, 
but somewhere inside she was fighting it.
 
“Do you trust me?” Catherine said in a low whisper, breath hot on Sara’s face, 
hands warm and soft in her own.   She held Sara’s telling eyes and waited for 
permission, assurance.
 
“Always,” Sara answered without even having to think, her body starting to relax 
as she lost herself in Catherine’s gentle consideration.
 
“I need this,” Catherine’s voice was thick with desire, everything inside slowly 
starting to boil over.
 
“I know,” Sara said, body finally at ease and melting into Catherine’s as the 
blonde held her eyes and slowly unbuttoned Sara’s shirt with one hand.
 
Sara’s eyes instinctively closed, teeth biting down hard on her bottom lip as 
her shirt fell open and Catherine’s hand trailed up her abdomen, in between her 
breasts and up around her neck before trailing back down to her midsection 
again.  Sara’s choice not to wear a bra that day suited Catherine just fine as 
she leaned down and took an already taut nipple in her mouth, rolling her tongue 
over it before seizing it with her teeth and biting and pulling at the same 
time.  Sara arched into her touch, a deep moan rising from the back of her 
throat as Catherine continued pulling for a split second longer before turning 
her attention to Sara’s other breast.
 
“Everything I have, Catherine, is yours,” Sara breathed as the blonde continued 
to mark her entire upper body with lips, teeth, and tongue.
 
Catherine squeezed the hand she still had in her own briefly and attached her 
lips to Sara’s as she reached down the length of her body and pulled Sara’s belt 
apart with one hand, the brunette’s hips instinctively moving under her fleeting 
touch.   Sara was ready; Catherine could feel it in the way Sara’s body moved 
under her hands, in the way she was being kissed so breathlessly, so 
desperately.   Instead of reaching for the button of Sara’s jeans, Catherine 
instead pulled on her belt.  Impeded by Sara’s weight still leaning on the 
leather strip, Catherine released Sara’s hand for a moment and rolled on top of 
the brunette until she was straddling her waist.  Sara’s eyes opened to regard 
Catherine as she used both hands to remove the brown leather belt.   
 
Catherine bit her lip as she tried to contain the desire flooding inside of her, 
Sara’s hands finding her thighs and caressing them momentarily before moving 
higher and underneath her shirt to the soft, warm flesh of her stomach.  After 
pulling the free end of the belt back through the buckle a few inches, Catherine 
took Sara’s hands from underneath her shirt and fell forward.   Her lips 
connected with Sara’s in a deep, heated kiss as she raised Sara’s hands above 
her head.  Sara only had a second to realize what was happening and couldn’t 
help the small intake of breath or strangled moan as Catherine slipped the belt 
around her wrists and pulled it tight, Sara’s hands now trapped above her head 
against the floor.
 
Catherine pulled back slowly, seductive smile gracing her features, and ran her 
hands through Sara’s hair and down the sides of her face tenderly.  She leaned 
down and kissed Sara’s forehead, each closed eyelid, the corners of her mouth, 
and then finally soft, swollen lips.  
 
“Relax,” Catherine whispered close to Sara’s ear as she kissed a light trail 
down her neck and stopped to drag her teeth along the soft skin just below the 
brunette’s ear, biting down and feeling Sara’s body leaning into her own, 
seeking it out.
 
Sara eased into Catherine’s touch as she felt one hand twining with the fingers 
above her head and the other falling near her bellybutton, nails scraping 
lightly against the baby soft skin there.   In seconds, Catherine was past the 
button of Sara’s jeans, zipper ripped apart, fingers sliding inside Sara’s heat 
easily.   Sara’s hips met Catherine halfway, as fingers teased at first and then 
slid into an even rhythm increasing as Sara’s need did.   Catherine leaned her 
forehead against Sara’s, their breath mingling but lips not touching, as she 
watched the expression on the brunette’s face linger somewhere between pleasure 
and pain.   Using the heel of her hand, Catherine pressed against the apex of 
Sara’s burning desire as her fingers continued their relentless assault, Sara’s 
breath coming faster and harder with every passing second.   Watching Sara’s 
face and feeling her body for a change, Catherine knew she was close when Sara’s 
hand clenched around her own, fingernails digging into her skin hard enough to 
leave deep red marks.
 
“You have no idea just how amazing you are,” Catherine breathed, tongue darting 
out to trail the outline of Sara’s parted lips, hand stilling in Sara’s pants, 
fingers sliding out. It was another part of the control.  Catherine decided when 
and how Sara’s pleasure would be carried out…it was power…it was trust.   Not 
unlike when she was dancing.  She held all the cards.  Called all the shots.
 
Sara’s body was tense, having been brought to the edge and dangled over it only 
to be pulled back at the last second.   Catherine smiled as she saw Sara’s jaw 
clenched, her eyes opening with fire behind them.  She kissed Sara long and 
hard, biting her bottom lip and leaving her mark behind as she slid down the 
brunette’s exposed torso.   Catherine’s hand trailed out of Sara’s, down the 
side of her face, finger dipping into the warm cocoon of Sara’s mouth, hot 
tongue trailing around it, as blonde hair fell around Sara’s abdomen, 
Catherine’s tongue delving into her bellybutton.  
 
Using both hands, Catherine quickly removed Sara’s pants and sexy black 
underwear and dropped them in a pile on the floor.   Finally Catherine’s mouth 
searched out where her fingers were just moments before, Sara’s hips learning 
the motion and following it.   Catherine looked up to see Sara’s head thrown 
back, back arched into her skilled touch, shirt open and falling around her 
sides, arms still raised above her head.  She locked her eyes on Sara’s writhing 
body, Catherine’s hands coming to rest on Sara’s abdomen as her muscles began to 
tense and flex, a delightful shiver making its way through her body as her final 
release swept over her like a tidal wave that was as relentless as it was vast.
 
Sara came with Catherine’s name on her lips, hands clenching around each other, 
hips bucking forward against Catherine’s mouth, one foot raising and slamming 
onto the kitchen floor so hard it sent shattered splinters of ceramic tile off 
in every direction.  Her body began to still, Catherine’s hands caressing the 
exposed skin of her abdomen and moving higher up as she crawled back up Sara’s 
body and released her hands, noticing the dark red marks that were already 
apparent on her wrists.  Sara rolled easily into Catherine’s waiting arms, her 
head tucked neatly under the blonde’s chin as she struggled to catch her breath 
and get her body under control.
 
“Fuck, Catherine,” Sara breathed, eyes shut tight, reveling into the moment.  
Catherine chuckled softly, licking her lips and tasting Sara on her mouth, 
everywhere inside of her.
 
“I know,” Catherine answered softly, running her hands over Sara’s back and up 
through her hair.
 
Sara leaned back and kissed Catherine leisurely, tongues dancing, no longer 
dueling for dominance.  She tried to plant her feet for leverage to roll 
Catherine onto her back, but her left foot slipped on something jagged and she 
hissed in pain.   They broke the kiss and both looked down the length of Sara’s 
body to see that while she was lost in the momentary abandon of wild passion 
Sara had in fact smashed an entire kitchen floor tile into a million tiny 
fragments that were now scattered all over the floor like a fine dust…except for 
the piece that had cut into her foot and was now leaving tiny blood droplets 
within all that powder.
 
“Oops,” Catherine smiled and had to laugh as she saw the look of horror cross 
Sara’s face.  
 
Catherine leaned back on her elbows as Sara ignored the cut on her foot and went 
straight to assess the damage to the floor, buttoning her shirt on the way.
 
“Normally, I’d be giggling right along with you,” she said with a small smile as 
she noticed Catherine frown at the word ‘giggling’.   
 
“I do not giggle,” Catherine warned.
 
“Right,” Sara smiled.
 
“Don’t make me tie you up again,” the blonde’s eyes narrowed, eyes reaching for 
the discarded belt once again.
 
“You do that to me again and there’s no way I’m going to make it into work 
later,” Sara smiled wider.   “And you know I’m already on Grissom’s shitlist for 
ignoring his pages last week.”
 
“You were indisposed.”
 
“I didn’t think that telling him I was busy with my hands in your pants would do 
much to help my case.”
 
“Yeah, he is rather stuffy,” Catherine smiled.  “Is it bad?” she asked, 
referring to the tile and Sara’s foot.
 
“Only in the sense that it’s completely fucking broken,” Sara shrugged and sat 
back on her knees, sighing and forgetting her cut which was only a scrape 
anyway.
 
Catherine poked at her with a sock covered foot.   “Hey, we’ll fix it.  Don’t 
worry.  It’s not a big deal.”
 
“It wouldn’t be if my lease wasn’t up next week,” Sara explained.  “I’ll have to 
stop by the hardware store on my way to work and fix it when I come home.   I 
mean, who the fuck’s gonna rent to me again when I keep getting the neighbors 
murdered by serial killers and smashing holes in the kitchen floor?”
 
“Here.  Now,” Catherine commanded, using both feet to hook around Sara’s waist 
and pull her down on top of her.  Sara ran her hands through Catherine’s hair 
where it splayed around her head on the floor.   “Serial killer, not your fault. 
 You know that,” Catherine locked her arms around Sara’s waist and held her 
close.  “As for the floor, you buy some new tile and cement the bastard in,” she 
paused and smiled a small smile, “and never invite your rowdy, sex crazed 
girlfriend over again, and you’re all set.”
 
“I’d rather get evicted,” Sara kissed her gently in response.
 
“There is another alternative,” Catherine said without even realizing she was 
speaking at all.  “Move in with me.”
 
“What?” Sara’s surprise was evident.
 
“Move in with me,” Catherine reiterated, feeling a little confused and taken 
aback by Sara’s silence and shocked expression.
 
********************
 
Sara managed to avoid the proposal and any subsequent questions and answers by 
using skilled hands and lips to keep Catherine busy until it was time for them 
to part ways for the day.   Their goodbye was a bit hurried and awkward, but 
warm and sweet nonetheless.  Catherine didn’t bring up the issue again and 
neither did Sara.  She was still mulling it over in her mind as she stood in 
front of the tile section in the hardware store and held up two different 
candidates before her eyes, one in either hand.  For the life of her, Sara 
couldn’t remember if her kitchen floor was tiled in seafoam green or oasis 
green.  She closed her eyes and tried to visualize her apartment, scanning 
towards the kitchen.  But all she saw was green.   Just green.  It was hopeless.
 
“Definitely seafoam,” a voice came from behind her and trailed off towards her 
right side.  “Because it’s all hard and dark towards the edges, but once you hit 
the center it’s warm and harmless.  Not much unlike you.”
 
Sara thought the voice was slightly familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.  She 
opened her eyes and turned her head to the right to be met by smooth mocha skin, 
perfectly raised cheekbones, thick black hair, and a pair of sparkling azure 
eyes that rivaled Catherine’s own.  Sara knew at that moment that if she wasn’t 
completely happy in bliss with Catherine she would have been in a whole lot of 
trouble.   Full lips smiled at her warmly, invitingly.
 
“Shay,” Sara nodded and smiled back.   “Hey.”
 
“Hey, Sara.”
 
“I didn’t know you lived around here.”
 
“Yeah, just moved into the area last week,” Shay answered, shifting the paint 
bucket she was holding so that it was cradled in one arm.   She used her free 
hand to brush the hair from her eyes and saw Sara eyeing the bucket.  “Ran out 
of paint,” she explained.
 
“Midnight sky,” Sara read from the top of canister.  “Great color.”
 
“Bedroom,” the other woman smiled.
 
“Great bedroom color,” Sara smiled back, met her eyes.   “Sultry.”
 
“That’s exactly what I was going for.”
 
“We’ve missed seeing you around the lab,” Sara shifted her gaze back to the tile 
samples, oblivious to the deep blush that started to flush across the shorter 
woman’s cheeks.
 
“Yeah, Ecklie being the prick that he is, snagged me right after I did the knife 
analysis for you and Warrick on that inside job case,” Shay shifted closer, 
looking over Sara’s arm at the tile samples and acting like that’s what she was 
really interested in.   Sara didn’t even notice the eyes dragging over her 
profile leisurely.   “Gotta tell you I miss you guys too.   Paulson and Roman 
from dayshift aren’t nearly as easy on the eyes as you.”
 
“What, beer guts and receding hairlines don’t do it for you?” Sara commented 
with a crooked smile.
 
“Men in general don’t really do it for me,” the other woman answered and took a 
small step back to read Sara’s reaction.
 
“I hear that,” Sara answered with a nod and smile.   “So seafoam, you think?” 
she turned toward the widely grinning lab tech.  “Although you’ve never been in 
my apartment so you’d have even less of an idea of what my kitchen floor looks 
like then even I seem to have right now.”
 
“Now that’s something I wouldn’t mind changing,” Shay raised an eyebrow in a 
sort of challenge, lips curving in a beautiful smile.
 
Sara smiled shyly in response, not quite sure how to take that comment or how to 
react to it.  Her mind seemed to automatically revert back to thinking of 
Catherine and the idea of moving in with her…not understanding why she was 
suddenly so indecisive about it even though it was what Sara had secretly been 
hoping for ever since the first night they kissed.   She was just about to drag 
her mind back to the current situation when her pager broke the silence first.
 
“Sorry,” she laughed a bit, smiled, and checked the small device attached to her 
waist.  “Always on the clock it seems,” Sara had just clipped the pager back to 
her belt and grabbed a box of seafoam tile from the shelf when the thing went 
off shrieking again.  She reached for her waist.  A delicate, perfectly 
manicured hand reached out to stop her.  Shay’s touch was warm, almost electric.
 
“It’s mine,” she said softly and clicked off her own pager.  “Looks like that 
goes for both of us,” she smiled as she checked the message.   “Must be some big 
ass case to be calling everyone in.”
 
Sara smiled widely.  “My favorite kind,” she said and tucked her tile under one 
arm, reaching out with other to grab Shay’s paint bucket.  “Let me get that for 
you,” she offered with a wink as they headed toward the checkout.
 
 
They parted ways in the parking lot, Sara fumbling with her keys before managing 
to make it into her car.   She tossed the tile onto the passenger floor and was 
sitting back up when a tapping on her window startled her.   Hand already 
reaching for her firearm, Sara had to shake her head and laugh at herself as she 
saw the recently familiar blue eyes peering at her through the glass.  She 
rolled down the window.
 
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Shay grimaced, then softened when she saw Sara 
begin to smile.
 
“No problem,” Sara waved her off.   “You forget how to get to CSI?” she joked.
 
“Actually, my battery’s dead.   I was hoping you could give me a lift?” well 
defined eyebrows raised in inquiry. 
 
“Sure,” Sara nodded and motioned to the passenger side door.  “Hop in.”
 
********************
 
“So I just blurted it out,” Catherine told Warrick as they waited near the DNA 
lab for the others to show up.
 
“And what did she say?” he asked.
 
“Nothing.  She just stared at me for a couple of minutes and then we got kind of 
distracted,” Catherine shook her head and ran a hand through her hair.
 
“I’m sure it’s all good,” Warrick assured her, placing a warm hand on her 
shoulder and squeezing.   “This is commitment-phobe, abandonment-issue, 
trust-no-one Sara we’re talking about here.  She probably just got a little 
freaked at the prospect of the spontaneity of it all.   Have you seen her day 
planner?  The margins of the margins are completely filled in with scribbles.   
She’s all about control, Cath.  You of all people should know that.”
 
“I know,” Catherine nodded and leaned against Warrick’s sturdy frame, comforted 
by the strength in which he enveloped her.   “I’m blowing it out of proportion.”
 
“Just give her some time,” he said softly.   “We’ve all seen you two together 
and it’s obvious how she feels about you.  I’d bank on the fact that she wants 
this, but she just won’t admit to herself that she needs you that much.”
 
“Who needs who how what?” Greg emerged from the DNA lab with a cup of coffee, a 
wide sparkling smile, and Nick’s hand attached to the back of his neck in a 
pinch hold.
 
“What?” Nick, Catherine, and Warrick all said at the same time with the same 
dumbfounded expression on their faces that only Greg could inspire.
 
“Nothing,” Greg chuckled to himself and exhaled slowly as Nick released him and 
leaned up against the closed door, arms crossed over his finely detailed chest.
 
Warrick gave Catherine one last squeeze and she smiled at him gratefully before 
stepping away.  He touched her arm gently, keeping her attention.
 
“You’re the one.  Deep down you know it,” he said seriously and let his hand 
fall away.
 
“Who’s the one?” Greg asked, he and Nick more than a little confused, but Nick 
smartly staying out of it.
 
“Can it, Opie,” Warrick warned and playfully pushed at Greg’s forehead, knocking 
him back a few steps.
 
“You want some of this?” Greg recovered and stepped forward in his best Karate 
Kid crane kick fighting stance.
 
“No thanks,” Warrick stepped back and leaned against the door next to Nick.
 
“That’s what I thought,” Greg straightened out his lab coat, seeing Nick smirk 
and shake his head out of the corner of his eye.   Greg smiled shyly and stared 
down into the depths of his coffee.
 
Catherine’s eyes shot up as she heard the double doors fly open, hoping to see 
Sara walking through them.   Although what she saw wasn’t quite the way she 
expected it to be. Sara did come walking through the doors…only she had a 
beautiful young woman by her side and they were talking and laughing about 
something.   Sara was smiling.  The other woman was smiling…and putting her hand 
on Sara’s arm.   Sara wasn’t shrugging it off.  She was smiling wider, laughing 
more heartily.   It all seemed to be going in slow motion.   Catherine could 
feel her blood pressure rising, anger creeping.   She thought her head might 
explode.
 
Sara came to stand next to her, hand briefly gliding down Catherine’s leather 
clad arm.  Either it was cold outside or Sara was blushing.   Catherine’s eyes 
darted to Sara and to the woman standing next to her and then back again, 
suspicions and jealousy flooding her mind.   Someone was speaking, but she 
couldn’t hear anything but the voice inside her head screaming at her that 
something was up.
 
“Catherine?  You okay?” Sara’s hand was on her arm again, this time longer and 
applying more pressure to get her attention.
 
“Uh, yeah fine,” Catherine shook herself out of her musings and placed a 
territorial hand on Sara’s lower back, shooting the death glare at the woman she 
now recognized as a former lab tech.
 
“You remember Shay Morris,” Sara motioned to the dark skinned woman to her side.
 
“Right,” Catherine nodded, holding the woman’s eyes in a dead lock stare and 
pulling Sara closer to her so there wasn’t room to slide a piece of paper in 
between them.   “Morris.”
 
“Willows,” cool blue eyes held Catherine’s just as fiercely, small playful smile 
evident as eyes darted to Catherine’s protective hold on Sara and back to the 
blonde’s cold expression.
 
“I thought you transferred to days,” Warrick entered the conversation.
 
“Good to see you too, Warrick,” Shay turned her gaze to him, batted her 
eyelashes a little.  Ah, the sport of flirting.  She was good at it.  “I did.   
Got a page about the same time as Sara.   I figured super-ass Sanders called in 
sick or something,” she directed at Greg.
 
“Listen baby, I told you it was fine to call me that when I have a handful of 
your hair in my fist,” Greg countered with a sly grin.  “But I’d appreciate it 
if you’d keep our little bedroom love coos out of the workplace.”
 
“In your dreams, lackey,” Shay smiled widely in response.
 
“Feisty,” Greg grinned wider.   “Just like I remember you.”
 
Catherine watched as all three men dragged their eyes up and down Shay Morris’ 
tight, curvy in all the right places frame.  They were looking at her like she 
was dinner and they were all starving.   They never looked at her like that.  
Catherine was about to choke on her bitterness when it dawned on her that Shay 
had said she and Sara were together even before they had come in together.   
They hadn’t just met up in the lobby or something.
 
“You were with her when your pager went off?” Catherine turned accusing eyes on 
Sara.
 
“We met in the hardware store of all places,” Sara nodded, oblivious to 
Catherine’s rage filled glance.   “See I was picking up the replacement tile and 
Shay was picking up paint and then our pagers went off and I was in my car and 
there was a tap on the window and she needed a ride so I gave her one…” Sara 
babbled relentlessly as she tried in vain to explain the situation.
 
“I’ll bet you did,” Greg rocked on his heels and grinned.   The back of Nick’s 
hand connected firmly with Greg’s chest just as four sets of eyes turned to 
glare at him.   He backed up and hung his head.
 
“Where were you?” Sara asked Catherine.
 
“Took Lindsey to the cemetery to visit Eddie,” Catherine explained.
 
“How’s that going?” Sara asked with concern and ran a hand through Catherine’s 
hair gently, not even thinking twice about where they were or who was watching.
 
“Good, considering,” she answered.
 
“Which means?” Sara raised an eyebrow.
 
“Let’s talk about it later, huh?” Catherine avoided the question and stepped 
away from Sara’s touch.   
 
“Anybody know why we’re all here?” Shay asked, changing the subject.
 
“Still waiting for Grissom to show with the info,” Nick spoke for the first 
time.
 
“Well, I should get up to trace and see where exactly it is that they need me,” 
the young woman smiled at the boys, lingering on Greg.  “Round two later, 
Sanders.   Count on it.”
 
“Looking forward to it,” he replied.
 
“Sara, thanks for the ride,” Shay stepped close to her and placed a soft hand on 
her arm for emphasis.   “Maybe sometime you’ll take me up on that offer?” she 
added with a wink and a squeeze of her hand and then disappeared towards the 
stairwell.
 
Catherine stepped out in front of Sara, arms crossed over her chest, and tried 
to melt the back of Shay Morris’ head using only her eyes.  Her teeth clenched 
and jaw set, Catherine went rigid when she felt a hand on her shoulder.   She 
turned her head to see Grissom behind her with a slightly uncomfortable and 
pained look on his face.  Brass was standing next to him with the same 
expression only with a little bit of pissed off thrown in for good measure.
 
“Assignments,” Grissom said, removing his hand from Catherine’s shoulder as she 
turned around fully and came back to the situation.   “Sara and Catherine, 
you’re with me and the body.   Nick and Warrick, you go with Brass to the 
parents and see what you can find out.  Greg, get in the lab and wait for 
whatever it is we send back to you.   You’re not just DNA tonight; I need you to 
be more than that…trace, prints, fibers, anything.”
 
“To say this is delicate is an understatement of mammoth proportions,” Brass 
continued, stepping forward, hands locked behind his back uncomfortably.   
“Discretion and precision are of the utmost importance.  You do nothing at all 
before consulting me first and I mean nothing.  I know you’re all good at what 
you do, but from this moment on I need you all to be great.   Anything else is 
unacceptable.  So, let’s go.  We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” he finished 
and walked past Grissom towards the doors.
 
“Wait a sec,” Nick pushed off the glass and asked the question that was on 
everyone’s minds.  “Who’s the vic?”
 
“Natasha Foley,” Grissom answered grimly and passed out the file folders.
 
“Congressman Foley’s daughter,” Catherine nodded and held Brass’ fearful eyes.
 
“Welcome to the big time, folks,” he said and turned his back once again.
 
********************
 
“So you wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed at me?” Sara asked, eyes turning 
to Catherine as she drove the Tahoe to the crime scene. Grissom was riding with 
O’Riley, getting whatever information the cop had already been given.
 
“No,” Catherine dead-panned, eyes glued to the road, hands tight around the 
wheel.
 
Sara sighed and nodded, staring back out the window and drumming her fingers on 
her corduroys.   She turned back to Catherine and noticed the determined yet far 
away look in her eyes and immediately knew the older woman was trying 
desperately not to think about something, but it was creeping around in her head 
anyway.   Sara knew Catherine so well it was almost scary.   She was angry and 
hurt and confused.   And Sara knew that she wouldn’t talk about it until she was 
ready.   Sara also knew it had a lot to do with her and the conversation she had 
avoided earlier.
 
“You know if you can’t figure it out for yourself either you’re over-exhausted 
from all the overtime and it’s making you stupid or your barhopping with Greg 
has killed more brain cells than we both thought,” Catherine snapped at her, 
turning angry eyes her way.
 
“You know I just wanted to calmly talk about things,” Sara scoffed, leaning back 
against the door with one knee up in a defensive position, “but if you wanna 
turn it into a fight then let’s fucking have it.   What else you got?”
 
“Wow, thirty-one to six years-old in 3.2 seconds,” Catherine said sarcastically, 
stopping at a red light.   “I think that’s a new record for you.”
 
“Jesus Christ, Catherine.   What the fuck did I do this time?”
 
“Nothing.  Forget it.  We’re working.   We’ll just talk about it later,” she 
answered, light turning green and foot hitting the pedal so hard she left skid 
marks.   “This is an important case.  We need to keep our heads in the game so 
let’s just leave it.”
 
“Yeah because knowing you’re so mad at me you won’t even talk about it is so 
calming to my nerves,” Sara snorted and looked out the window again as Catherine 
pulled up to the crime scene.
 
Parking in back of the last black and white on the scene and first making a 
quick scan of the area, Catherine grabbed Sara by the lapels of her leather 
jacket a split second before the brunette could get her hand on the door 
release.  Catherine claimed surprised lips between her own and kissed Sara deep 
and long, pulling away as quickly as she had moved forward.  Sara was left with 
her eyes closed and mouth hanging open as her brain tried to function again, as 
it always was after Catherine kissed her like that.
 
“We’ll talk about it later,” Catherine said and Sara nodded.  “All of it, I 
promise.   For now, eyes on the evidence,” she added and exited the car quickly 
before the sight of Sara so vulnerable and frustrated could make her resolve and 
anger fade.  Sometimes dealing with Sara wasn’t too far from coddling a child.   
There were things to be discussed and Catherine was determined that Sara 
wouldn’t weasel her way out of it this time with her adorable smiles and mouth 
melting kisses.
 
 
“Nice view,” Catherine commented as she and Sara emerged past the yellow tape 
and observed the cliff and Las Vegas skyline that was shimmering in the 
distance.
 
“I bet that was the last thing on Natasha Foley’s mind right before she got the 
back of her head blown off,” Sara said as she approached the body and observed 
the mess that someone had made of the back of the girl’s head.  She almost had 
to look away.   
 
“Sara, tire treads and shoe prints near the edge of the cliff,” Grissom pointed 
behind himself from where he was crouched over the body.
 
“What about near the body?” she asked as she walked around the perimeter of the 
scene.
 
“First two units on the scene made a mess of everything close to the girl trying 
to get an ID,” O’Riley chimed in as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his 
shirt.
 
“Great,” Sara grimaced as she set down her case and assessed the prints in the 
dirt and peeked over the edge.
 
“Don’t do that,” Catherine called after her, settling down near Grissom.  
“Please.”
 
“Why?  Does it make you nervous?” Sara asked with a small smile.
 
“No, but we’ve got a fight to have later on and I’d hate to be the only one 
there,” Catherine played back.
 
“Ladies,” Grissom warned.
 
“Right,” Sara nodded and examined the tire treads first.   “You really think a 
picture’s going to work on these?”
 
“Plaster cast if you want,” Grissom answered without turning around.  “But I 
called in Shay Morris and if she can get you a working tire tread from half a 
greasy print on a neon flyer, she can get you a print on almost anything.”
 
“We don’t work in almosts,” Catherine said, almost bitter at the sound of Shay 
Morris’ name.
 
“Very true, Catherine,” Grissom smirked at her.   “However, I checked out the 
treads myself and I’m sure that Sara can handle it.”
 
Sara smiled to herself at Grissom’s confidence and began snapping pictures.  
Catherine pulled on her latex gloves and took the lower half of Natasha Foley’s 
body.   Grissom took care of the upper half.
 
Starting from her feet Catherine worked her way up the body with expert eyes, 
not noticing anything on the sand or on the girl’s jeans that could have been 
evidence.  No fibers, no nothing.  She dusted the girl’s belt buckle that was 
hanging open, but came up empty for prints.   
 
“Sexual assault?” she questioned Grissom motioning to the open pants, only half 
closed zipper, and way Natasha Foley’s tight shirt was bunched up over her 
abdomen displaying a glowing silver bellybutton ring.
 
“Possible,” he answered, turning his attention to the gunshot wound directly 
between the victim’s eyes.   “Stippling’s small and tight,” he said referring to 
the burnt flesh and gunpowder near the entry wound
 
“Close range,” Catherine suggested, meeting Grissom near the girl’s head to look 
herself.  “I’m surprised it didn’t blow the entire top of her head off.”
 
“Small caliber.  Probably .25, maybe even smaller,” he answered.   
 
He shined a light over the girl’s bluish face and over the length of her long, 
wavy blonde hair stopping when something glinted off the light and into his eye. 
 Pulling a pair of tweezers and a small plastic bag out of his kit, Grissom 
pursed his lips and took a small, clear piece of textured plastic from the mass 
of golden locks and deposited it into the evidence bag.
 
“I’ve got a tattoo here, side of the neck.   Chinese character,” Catherine said 
as she tilted the girl’s head and motioned for Sara to take a picture as soon as 
she was done with the treads.  “How old was she?”
 
“Sixteen,” O’Riley answered.   “When you’re Congressman Larry Foley’s daughter 
I’m sure you can get whatever it is you want.”
 
“Yeah and some stuff you really don’t want,” Catherine commented as she grabbed 
the girl’s right hand and turned it over in her own.
 
Unclenching the tight fist that was getting stiff with rigor, an unsettling 
crack resounding throughout the whole scene, a small silver chain and pendant 
fell into Catherine’s hand.   She held it up, shined her flashlight on it.   It 
was a small silver cross with barbed wire tangled around it.   It looked to be 
custom made.
 
“Well, at least she got away with something,” Catherine said sadly as she 
dropped the necklace into an evidence bag.   “Fingernails are clean,” she told 
Grissom.
 
“Catherine, look at her mouth for a second,” he said, eyes focused on the girl’s 
slightly parted lips.
 
“What am I looking for?” she shined her light on the girl’s face.
 
“Just look.”
 
“Saliva?” she questioned as she noticed the small stream of mucus trailing down 
the side of the victim’s face.   “Want me to get a sample?”
 
“No,” he said and put down his flashlight and reaching for the girl’s face with 
both hands.  “Just keep your light on her.”
 
Kneeling over the body, Grissom used both hands mostly thumb and forefinger to 
pop the victim’s mouth open.   Any saliva that hadn’t dried in the cool night 
air flooded past her mouth and his fingers.  Catherine moved the flashlight over 
the open cavity and grimaced when she saw that Natasha Foley’s tongue was 
swollen to the entire size of her mouth.   They could barely see teeth and gums 
it was so large.
 
“Strange,” Catherine commented.
 
“Very,” Grissom agreed.
 
“You guys about done here?” O’Riley interrupted.   “Brass just paged.  He wants 
you over at the Congressman’s house ASAP,” he directed at Grissom.
 
“Yeah, we’re done for now,” Grissom got to his feet.   “You two get all the 
evidence back to the lab and meet Doc Robbins for the autopsy.  Call me as soon 
as you get anything,” he handed over his bags to Catherine and followed O’Riley 
to the waiting squad car.
 
“What about the shell casing?” Catherine asked.
 
“I did a once over and there’s nothing,” Sara answered as they walked back to 
the Tahoe and motioned the coroner’s office to take over.  
 
“Why do I get the feeling that this case is going to be full of missing pieces?” 
Catherine commented as they hopped into the truck and headed back to CSI.
 
********************
 
Sara and Catherine walked through the gleaming double doors and into the morgue 
to find Doc Robbins sitting solemnly on a stool near the sink.  He was flipping 
through a file folder, scribbling things down now and again, and there wasn’t 
even any music on.  He looked tired.   Doc Robbins never looked tired.  It was 
like some sort of universal rule.   He got up and made his way to the autopsy 
table as they approached.
 
“Normally I’d say something funny or witty being that you are my two favorite 
girls around here, but after staring at this girl for almost two hours I just 
don’t have it in me right now,” he said with a small frown.
 
“That bad, huh?” Catherine gave him a small sympathetic smile.
 
“This girl’s body was a battlefield,” he answered and pulled the cover from her 
face and down past her throat.   
 
He didn’t stop there, just continued to pull the sheet all the way down 
revealing the neatly closed Y-incision from abdomen to upper chest.  Once the 
sheet was near the girl’s feet, he let it rest there and turned to the two 
women.
 
“Let’s start from the top.   Gunshot at close range, but it didn’t kill her,” he 
stated.   “In fact, it’s post mortem.”
 
“But there was brain matter everywhere,” Sara said.
 
“Which I don’t doubt,” Robbins nodded.   “However, I bet there wasn’t much blood 
if you were to get past the solid matter.  Tox screen came back negative for 
drugs and alcohol, other than Prozac and Zoloft which weren’t anywhere near 
enough to be lethal.  But after looking through Natasha’s medical records I went 
on a hunch and tested her for something else.”
 
“Something else?” Catherine raised an eyebrow.
 
“Natasha Foley was allergic to peanuts, even in small doses she’s have a severe 
negative reaction to them.   I swabbed her mouth, took her blood, and it all 
came back positive for peanut oil.”
 
“So she died from an allergic reaction?” Sara asked.
 
“No, that didn’t kill her either,” Robbins shook his head.  “It would have if it 
had more time to work through her system, but her tongue swelled closing her 
airway and she basically asphyxiated.”
 
“She choked on her own tongue,” Catherine nodded.   
 
“So why bother shooting her in the face if she’s already dead?” Sara questioned.
 
“Your job, not mine,” Doc Robbins cracked a half smile for the first time that 
day.
 
“How about sexual assault?” Catherine crossed her arms over her chest.
 
“No sign,” Robbins shook his head.   “But she did have sex shortly before she 
died.   No fluids or hairs left behind.”
 
“What did you mean when you said her body was a battlefield?” Catherine asked, 
eyes scanning the body and starting to figure it out for herself.
 
“Body art,” he answered.   “Or in some cultures, mutilation.   We’ve got six 
tattoos starting with the moon and stars on the left ankle,” he pointed to the 
lower end of the table.   “Setting sun on the lower back.  Shattered heart 
between the breasts – don’t worry I took a picture before I cut her open.  And 
three Chinese characters; on the neck, inner thigh, and below the bellybutton.”
 
“That’s a lot of ink for a sixteen year-old girl,” Catherine said sadly.
 
Doc Robbins picked up the girl’s right arm and turned it into the light.  “We’ve 
got at least a hundred small cuts and scrapes on each arm.”
 
“Defensive wounds?” Catherine asked.
 
“She was a cutter,” Sara shook her head.
 
“Precisely,” Robbins nodded.
 
“I’ll never understand why kids do that,” Catherine commented.
 
“Punishment, wanting the pain on the outside to match the pain going on inside,” 
Sara offered.  “A cry for help.  Something was going on with this girl that’s 
way deeper that a few tattoos and some piercings.”
 
“Ah, just where I was headed,” Robbins held up a finger.   “Piercings on both 
nipples, bellybutton, and genital area,” he motioned as he went along and then 
retrieved a clear bag from his workstation and handed it to Catherine.  “And I 
found this in her stomach.  Barbell, sixteen gauge, must have dislodged when the 
tongue swelled and she swallowed it.”
 
“Thanks, Doc,” Catherine said and began heading towards the exit.
 
“Uh…we’re not quite finished yet, Catherine,” Robbins stopped her and she 
noticed the pained look on his face.
 
“What is it that’s got you so upset, Albert?” she asked, Sara stopping close to 
her.
 
“There’s no easy way to say this,” he ran a hand over his beard.  “She was 
pregnant.  Fetal tissue and size indicates anywhere between eight to twelve 
weeks.”
 
“Jesus Christ,” Catherine muttered.   “Tissue sample?”
 
“Already up with Greg,” he answered.
 
“You’re the best, Doc,” Catherine nodded at him in gratitude and ushered Sara 
out of the room.
 
********************
 
“This case is already giving me a headache,” Catherine said as she and Sara 
headed towards the break room for a caffeine recharge.   “And a really bad 
feeling.”
 
“I know what you mean,” Sara nodded and held the door open for her.  “So about 
earlier,” she began once they were alone in the break room, Catherine with her 
back turned over at the coffee pot.
 
Sara was about to say something else when her pager went off.  Catherine turned 
around and waited for hers to go off also, but it didn’t happen.   She turned 
questioning eyes to Sara.
 
“It’s Shay.  She’s got info on my treads,” she explained and clipped her pager 
back to her side.   She was halfway out the door when she realized Catherine 
wasn’t following her.  “You coming?” she stuck her head back into the room.
 
“Don’t think so,” Catherine turned her back, drained her coffee and threw the 
cup in the trash.
 
“Catherine…”
 
“I’m sure you can handle it,” Catherine stepped past Sara and into the hallway 
without touching her, jaw clenched in frustration.   “I’ll be in DNA if you give 
a shit,” she called without turning around.
 
Sara shook her head, looking after Catherine retreating figure, rubbed her tired 
eyes in confusion and headed upstairs.
 
********************
 
“Got your page,” Sara entered one of the computer labs and her eyes immediately 
fell on the dark head of hair perched in front of a screen that was logging 
through tire tread matches.
 
“Got you a match,” bright blue eyes shined on her as the young woman turned in 
her direction.
 
“Excellent,” Sara grinned widely. “Because everything else in this case seems to 
be up in the air right now.   Much like my personal life.”
 
“Anything you want to talk about?”
 
“God, no.  I wouldn’t put you through that,” Sara smiled in response.   “So, 
what kind of car are we looking for?”
 
“BFT,” Shay answered quickly.
 
“Big truck,” Sara nodded and smiled wider.   “Tell me you got a make and model 
and I’ll give you my first born.”
 
“2003 Ford Expedition, can’t be more than a few weeks old,” the lab tech replied 
with a smile.  “The treads are almost too well defined, tires are basically 
brand new.  Firestone, wide.   The only thing I can’t tell you is what color,” 
she handed Sara a print out but held onto it and forced Sara’s eyes to hers.   
“And there’s something else I’d rather have.”
 
“What’s that?” 
 
“Use your imagination, Sara.”
 
“That’s never a good thing, trust me,” Sara smiled and pulled the paper from 
Shay’s hand.
 
“Your shoe prints are small,” the younger woman turned back to the monitor and 
pulled up a comparison of the picture Sara had sent her and the sole of a 
matching shoe.  “Size seven men’s, Airwalk brand.  They’re popular with the 
skateboarders.  But see here,” she pointed to where the ball of the foot would 
be on the dirt imprint.  “There’s between a two to three inch void in pattern.”
 
“Worn away?” Sara asked, leaning towards the monitor to take a look.
 
“Don’t think so, but I’ve got a younger brother in High School,” Shay answered 
and shifted to look at Sara.   “It’s probably duct tape.  Sole starts falling 
off and instead of getting rid of what’s most likely the kid’s favorite shoes, 
they just wrap them with duct tape and keep wearing them.”
 
“I never learned that trick,” Sara smirked.   “Thanks,” she added and stepped 
away.   “I owe you one.”
 
“You better believe I’ll be collecting,” Shay called after Sara as she let the 
door swing shut behind her.
 
********************
 
Catherine waited until she saw Sara disappear though the stairwell door before 
walking into the same lab she had just exited with a determined and more than 
pissed off electric shock running through her body.   As she came nearly face to 
face with the person who seemed to be gunning to become her bitter rival in the 
war for Sara’s affection, Catherine couldn’t help but wonder if leaving her 
firearm in her locker would have been a better idea.
 
“Catherine, hi,” Shay greeted her with a more than obvious fake smile, images of 
Sara still dancing behind her eyes.   “You just missed Sara.”
 
“Whatever,” Catherine stopped directly in front of the lab tech, hand on her 
hip.  “Let’s skip the niceties.  I know where your mind is going and you better 
stop it, turn it around, and take it as far away from Sara as fast as you 
possibly can.”
 
“Or what?” Shay crossed her arms over her ample chest and stood up straight, all 
but putting her nose to nose with Catherine.
 
“Or you’ll understand the true meaning of pain,” Catherine hissed and leaned in 
close to the other woman’s face.   “And I can guarantee you that will only be 
the beginning.”
 
“What’s the matter?  You afraid she doesn’t find all the sagging and wrinkles 
sexy anymore?” Shay countered with a mock pout that turned into a fiery smile.   
“What exactly is it that you think your tired old ass can give her that my 
young, feisty, non-gravitationally challenged one can’t?   Huh?”
 
“You don’t even know her,” Catherine’s heart pumped faster, her blood boiling 
beneath the skin.
 
“Do you?” Shay raised an eyebrow in response, defensive stance taken, 
challenging.  “I mean, really?”
 
Catherine barely resisted the urge to punch the lab tech in her lousy, 
girlfriend stealing mouth.   She flexed her fists at her sides, enjoying the 
bittersweet pain she felt digging her nails into the palms of her hands.   They 
were locked in a standstill, Catherine’s mind racing and driving her insane with 
thoughts that even a small part of what the other woman said was true.  It was 
making her head spin.   Catherine smartly took a step back before she could do 
something rash that she knew she would regret.
 
“Back the fuck off,” she warned and backed towards the door without turning 
around.  “I mean it,” she held cool blue eyes with her own, noting the smirk 
that wasn’t leaving Shay’s face, and slowly backed out of the room letting the 
door slam behind her.
 
********************
 
“You seen Catherine?” Sara stuck her head into the DNA lab to find Greg banging 
his head against his desk.
 
“She took off about a half hour ago,” he answered without looking up.
 
“What are you doing, Greg?” Sara stepped into the lab and shut the door.
 
“Trying to keep myself awake,” he raised his head and smiled when he saw her.  
“Anyway, she was even more irritated than usual today.”
 
“Yeah, apparently I fucked up again.”
 
“Sit,” Greg pointed to the chair on the other side of the lab table.  “Dr. Greg 
needs to have a little talk with you.”
 
Sara laughed a little, but sat down nonetheless.
 
“Could Catherine’s heinous mood have anything to do with a certain sexy lab tech 
who takes every spare opportunity to make googly eyes at you even when the 
entire world is watching?” he asked.
 
“You haven’t made googly eyes at me in months,” Sara answered.  “And for the 
record I don’t really find you that sexy either.”
 
“Yeah you do,” Greg smirked at her.   “And I wasn’t talking about me.”
 
“I’m not following you,” Sara’s eyes clouded in confusion, brow furrowed.
 
“You really have no idea, do you?” Greg asked seriously and rolled his chair 
over to Sara and pulled her close to him using the arms of her chair.  “At first 
I thought you were just playing dumb because you didn’t want to have to deal 
with the all consuming crush I had on you, but you really have no idea how 
insanely hot you are…that heads turn when you walk in the room,” his hands found 
hers sweetly, his eyes honest and warm.
 
“I think you’ve been watching a different girl, Greg,” Sara shook her head and 
squeezed his hands.
 
“I’m serious.  Is your self image so horribly low that you can’t even imagine 
that there are some people out there that are attracted to you?” he asked.   
When Sara’s head bowed, he reached out a gentle hand to pull her eyes back to 
his.  “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and driven and a million other 
things that can drive me fucking crazy and make me love you all at the same 
time,” his tucked soft dark hair behind her ear and smiled at her widely.
 
“I love you too, Greg,” Sara smiled back at him.
 
“You’re still not getting me, are you?” 
 
“No,” Sara shook her head and had to laugh a little.
 
“Let me dumb it down for you.   Shay Morris wants your shit so bad even Nick 
picked up on it,” he said.
 
“Nick?  Really?” Sara’s face contorted in disillusion.  Greg nodded.
 
“Listen, I know I haven’t been the president of the Catherine Willows fanclub 
lately but she loves you, you ass,” Greg’s hands found Sara’s again.  “And 
although she’s ten times the badass you are on a good day, maybe you’re not the 
only one with insecurities in that relationship.  Maybe she needs a little 
reassurance every now and then too.”
 
“She asked me to move in with her,” Sara admitted.
 
“And you had your change of address forms filled out two minutes later, right?” 
Greg grinned widely, squeezed her hands.
 
“No, I didn’t even answer her.”
 
“And you wonder why this woman is frustrated and pissed off,” Greg stood up and 
shook his head.  
 
“I know.”
 
“So what are you gonna do?   You know you want to say yes.”
 
“Seems like I’m too late now,” Sara raised to her feet and sighed.
 
“You will be if you hang around here much longer,” he smiled reassuringly.  
“Grissom said we could take a couple hours to go home and change and stuff.”
 
“So I should probably go talk to her, huh?”
 
“Before she spirals out of control and her eyes go black and she sucks the world 
into a doomsday apocalypse, yes,” he answered with his patent smartass Greg 
smirk.
 
“Thanks, Spaz,” Sara pulled him into a warm, thankful hug.
 
“Anytime,” he answered and kissed her cheek briefly, his hands instinctually 
drifting from her waist to go lower…and lower…
 
“Greg, you touch my ass and you’ll find out just how hard it is to run DNA 
samples with two broken arms,” Sara pulled back, lightly smacked his face 
lovingly and exited the room smiling.
 
“Right,” he smoothed out his lab coat.   “Call me if you need anything.”
 
********************
 
Sara was mentally kicking herself in the ass for being such a moron when 
Catherine opened the door and stepped back to let her inside.   The house was 
quiet, Lindsey’s toys neatly stacked in a corner of the living room.  Catherine 
had been cleaning.  Now Sara knew she was in for it.  Catherine cleaned when she 
was angry and frustrated and she was really good at it.   The linoleum was 
sparkling as they stepped into the kitchen.   Catherine put on a pot of coffee 
without saying a word.   In fact, neither of them had spoken yet at all.
 
“Lindsey still asleep?” Sara asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
 
Catherine nodded, back still turned.   She ran a hand through ragged blonde 
hair, cracked her neck with a loud snap.  Her shoulders were hunched, tense, 
uninviting.  Sara felt her mouth run dry and her palms start sweating.  The 
sight made her uneasy.
 
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you before,” Sara twirled the ring on her middle 
finger nervously, “when I knew what I wanted to say, but I just couldn’t say 
it.”
 
“Did you?” Catherine finally turned around, eyes tired and worn.  “Did you know 
what you wanted to say?  Because the dead silence could have fooled me.”
 
“You know you let me in, you push me away…you let me in, and push me away 
again,” the older woman continued, voice tinged with anger and confusion.  “And 
just when I think we’re getting somewhere it all starts to fall apart again.   
The second things get even remotely difficult you just run away like a scared 
little girl.  And maybe I can’t live my life trying to cater to your mood 
swings.”
 
“What’s all this about, Catherine?” Sara countered, voice just as threatening.  
“Because every time I think I’ve figured it out, it all changes again.”
 
“I followed you all the way to goddamn San Francisco where you’re staying with 
your ex-lover after leaving me without even saying goodbye,” Catherine raised 
her voice another notch.   “And I’m just supposed to automatically believe that 
because you decided to come home that you’ll never leave me again?!”
 
“That’s what this is about?   Because can I just remind you that the reason I 
left in the first place is because you fucking broke up with me and hanging 
around to see you everyday was just a little too painful a reality for me,” Sara 
spat incredulously.   “I thought we were over this, but if you want to open old 
wounds then don’t let me stop you.  And don’t expect me to stand here and let 
you rip me apart for something you had a hand in too.”
 
“The wounds are still fresh, don’t you get it?   And now, less than two months 
later, you show up to work with another woman…a younger, extremely attractive 
woman who’s looking at you like she’s about to rip your clothes of at any second 
and you expect me not to think something is going on?  When two hours earlier I 
ask you to move in with me and instead of saying anything at all you just avoid 
the question altogether?  You have all the control in this relationship.   You 
stay when you want.  You leave when you want.  Fuck, you do whatever you want 
and don’t bother thinking about how it’s going to affect me until it’s too late. 
 Jesus, Sara.   Put yourself in my shoes,” Catherine leaned back against the 
counter, arms crossed.
 
“I’ve been in your shoes, Catherine,” Sara narrowed her eyes.
 
“Yeah and remember how well that worked out.”
 
“We’re still here together now, aren’t we?”
 
“I don’t know, are we?” Catherine pushed off the counter, attacking and 
defensive.  “You’re not the only one in this relationship that’s been hurt 
before.   You’re not the only one that has issues and insecurities.   With 
everything that’s happened in the last few months, I’m sorry if my trust for you 
is a little shot.  If the idea of you trading me in for a newer model is 
something that’s very real for me.”
 
“You know I don’t think of you in terms of age, Catherine,” Sara fought past the 
lump hardening in the back of her throat.   “When I think of you all I can see 
is that one person I’ve waited so long to find that I can’t even imagine living 
one single moment without…you’re the person that knows me and understands me so 
well that I don’t even have to say a word.”
 
“I’ve been through this a hundred times before,” Catherine shook her head, tears 
forming.  “Having someone tell me they love me to my face and two hours later 
they’re out there fucking the first piece of barely legal ass they can get their 
hands on.   I won’t go through that again.  I can’t.”
 
“I’m not Eddie, Catherine.   And if you ever compare me to that scumbag loser 
again you’re going find yourself very cold and very much alone in that bed you 
just made yourself,” Sara said bitterly, threatening.  She thought for a moment, 
letting the anger wash over her.   “Maybe all I am to you is a warm body to fill 
the void and the second you think you’ve lost control of me you start pushing.”  
 
 
“I’ve never had control of you,” Catherine shouted.  “Or this relationship.   
Don’t you understand how strange and unnerving that is for me?”
 
Sara took a step back and turned her back to Catherine, wiping at the tears that 
she wouldn’t let the blonde see.   They were tears of frustration and weariness. 
  And anger.  After all they had been through, Sara just couldn’t believe that 
Catherine was the one that couldn’t trust her.   
 
“Is that why you asked me to move in with you?” Sara turned watery, accusing 
eyes on Catherine.   “So you could keep better tabs on me?   So you’d know where 
I was every second of every day and you could keep me under your thumb?  So 
you’d know for sure that I wasn’t out fucking around?   You don’t trust me 
enough to believe that the only thing in the world that I’ve ever really wanted 
is you?”
 
“The reason I asked you to move in with me is because I love you…because it just 
feels right,” Catherine countered and stepped into Sara’s personal space, 
stopping only inches away from the brunette.   “But if that’s what you think 
then fuck you,” she said icily, eyes burning with unshed tears and heated anger.
 
Sara stared into Catherine’s eyes, not recognizing the woman that was looking at 
her through them.   She set her jaw and took a step back before she could do 
anything she might regret.  They were so involved in their fighting that they 
didn’t hear the quiet footsteps coming down the hall to stop in the kitchen 
archway, sleepy eyes staring at them.
 
“Mommy,” Lindsey’s small voice echoed loudly through the silence.
 
“Hey baby,” Catherine immediately slipped into Mother-mode and turned the little 
girl back towards her room.   “What are you doing up?”
 
“I heard yelling,” the little girl whined and rubbed at her eyes.
 
“Just go back to bed, sweetie.   I’ll be there in a minute,” Catherine watched 
as her daughter dragged her stuffed bunny back down the hallway and into her 
room.
 
“Catherine,” Sara’s voice was softer, apologetic.
 
“Get out,” Catherine hissed, not looking at Sara, hand clenching the wooden 
archway tightly and waiting to feel her pass.
 
“Catherine,” it came out strangled, almost a desperate plea.
 
“Just go,” Catherine’s voice was cold, hard.
 
Catherine shut her eyes tightly as she felt Sara breeze by behind her and felt 
her breath coming quicker as she tried not to panic too much.  When the door 
closed, Catherine pushed down the tears and headed towards Lindsey’s room.   She 
was a mother first.  Everything else would have to come later.
 
 
Sara pulled out her cell phone before she was even at her car and dialed 
quickly.  “Hey, it’s Sara.  You busy?   I was thinking I’d take you up on that 
offer.”
 
********************
 
Sara woke up to a quiet scraping sound, sweat matting the hair to the back of 
her neck and forehead.   Glancing down she realized her shirt was half 
unbuttoned and her pants were missing completely.  Sara tried to wipe the hair 
off her forehead but winced when she raised her hand, a thick white and red 
blood soaked bandage covering her entire palm.   Groggily climbing off of her 
bed, she caught sight of her jeans in a pile on the floor.  But when she 
attempted to put them back on, she noticed that the button had been torn off.  
Searching her mind for some coherent explanation, all she could remember was the 
fight she had with Catherine.   Everything after that was a blur of bits and 
pieces, none of which looked good.
 
After finding a suitable pair of pants and buttoning her shirt up so her goods 
were hanging out, Sara padded down the hallway and towards the kitchen.  She saw 
a sock covered foot sticking out past the kitchen entrance and realized that she 
wasn’t alone.  She thought she was about to be sick, every bad scenario possible 
playing out in her mind, when a messy smiling head popped up into view.
 
“You bought the wrong color, you know?” Greg said as she finished sanding the 
tile in place and wiped it down with a paper towel.   “Oasis,” he said, holding 
up the tile box.   “I went out and switched them while you were sleeping.”
 
Sara wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Greg and kiss him 
unconscious, but settled for a small smile and grateful hazy eyes instead when 
the nausea from blood loss and too much alcohol threatened to knock her on her 
ass where she stood.
 
“And for the record, ginsu knives and putty knives are not the same no matter 
how much you have to drink,” he teased as he got to his feet and handed her a 
steaming cup of coffee.
 
“Thank you,” Sara said, accepting the coffee and almost drooling at how good it 
smelled.  “What happened?”
 
“You called, needed to talk and by the time I got here you were already half in 
the bag and attempting to cement in the wrong colored tile with crazy glue and 
barbeque tongs,” Greg smiled and washed the grout off of his hands.  “Twenty 
minutes and a big fleshy knife wound later, you passed out.   And you ripped 
your jeans by yourself, by the way.   As much as I would like to claim 
responsibility for that, sadly I can’t.”
 
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Greg,” Sara said seriously and leaned on 
the counter next to him.
 
“I’m gonna remember you said that,” he smiled in response and hopped onto the 
counter.
 
“I can’t believe you fixed my floor.”
 
“With everything that happened earlier I figured it was the least I could do,” 
he said.  “So Catherine really said ‘fuck you’.  Cuz that’s kinda hot.”
 
“I’m sure it would have been if fire wasn’t shooting out of her eyes at the 
time,” Sara tried to laugh a little but it hurt too much.
 
“Must have been one major blowout,” Greg commented and leaned his head back 
against the cabinets.
 
“I think this was the worst one so far.”
 
“So far?”
 
“You think I’m going to come this far and just give up?” Sara asked with a half 
smile.  “We fight.  We cool down.   We talk.  And the makeup sex is unreal,” 
Sara smiled wider just thinking about it.
 
“I think that’s really why you guys do this all the time,” Greg commented.
 
“I wish it were that simple,” Sara shrugged and took a gulp of her coffee.
 
“Make it that simple,” he suggested and hopped off the counter, heading towards 
the bathroom.  “And get dressed,” he called over his shoulder.   “Grissom wants 
us back at CSI an hour ago.”
 
********************
 
Catherine was tired and had a massive migraine from all the crying.  She and 
Sara could make love with enough passion and intensity to light the world on 
fire, but they could also fight with just as much fervor.   She hadn’t gotten 
any sleep after Sara left, instead sitting up and trying to figure out why she 
was making such a big deal about nothing.   Her fears were real, but they were 
just that.   When she really thought about what she and Sara had been through 
she realized that all of what was making her unsure was in the past.   And they 
had to look to the future.   Because if they didn’t, it was as good as over.   
And Catherine wasn’t sure that either of them could survive the end.
 
Walking up to Congressman Foley’s house with Grissom by her side, Catherine 
glanced at the large SUV in the driveway and had to smile to herself.  The paint 
was glittering in the sunlight, the car having been freshly waxed, the ‘Ford’ 
logo sending a bright light into her eyes.
 
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked Grissom.
 
“Who needs a car that big?” he said, eyeing the vehicle.
 
“Exactly,” Catherine smiled and followed him into the posh, Victorian style 
house.
 
Brass met them in the foyer, relieved to see the two most tactful and senior 
CSIs on the scene. The caliber of the case was starting to wear on him as lead 
investigator making the small wrinkles near his dark eyes seem to get bigger 
every hour on the hour.   It seemed he had gotten as much sleep as Catherine and 
was wearing the same suit as the previous two days.  Only his tie was different.
 
“We realize this is very hard for all of you,” he addressed the family in the 
living room.  
 
The uniformed cops and investigators had since vacated the premesis and so Larry 
Foley, his wife Annabeth, and their son Tyler were the only one’s left in the 
room other than the three law enforcement agents.   Natasha’s mother and father 
were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Grissom noticing that she was 
drinking a club soda while he poured freely from the scotch bottle.  Tyler Foley 
was the spitting image of his twin sister, the same blonde hair and dazzling 
blue eyes.  But where she was wild, he seemed to be close under his father’s 
watch.   He was dressed in neatly pressed pants and shirt, his hair recently 
cut, and his shoes shined and definitely made of upscale Italian leather.   He 
stood near a big bay window, staring out like there was nothing in the world but 
him and the scene outside.   As the conversation progressed, it didn’t seem that 
he even noticed anyone was there let alone talking.
 
“Listen, I don’t know what else it is that you think we can tell you,” 
Congressman Foley said to Brass after a few moments of consideration.   “The 
campaign is coming up.  I’ve been busy working.”
 
“We realize that, sir,” Brass obliged his commanding nature.  “But anything at 
all that you can tell us would be a help.  Did she have any friends that we 
should talk to?”
 
“I don’t know,” Foley replied.   “She didn’t talk to us,” he glanced at his 
wife.   “We haven’t been able to control her since she was fourteen. Stays out 
all hours of the night, sometimes doesn’t even come home.   And I’m sorry, but I 
got sick of chasing her around and dragging her home.”
 
“One of the papers said Tasha was pregnant,” Annabeth finally spoke.  “Is that 
true?” she directed her question to Catherine, finding some form of comfort in 
the eyes of the other woman.
 
“We’re still running tests, Mrs. Foley,” Catherine folded her hands in her lap 
and fielded the question perfectly, just as Grissom had instructed.  That was a 
card they wanted to hold until the final draw.  “There’s been nothing to 
substantiate that yet.”
 
“Of course it’s not true, Annabeth,” Foley interrupted.   “Don’t be stupid.  
Natasha might have been a rebellious, ungrateful teenager, but she wouldn’t be 
that careless.”
 
Annabeth Foley finished her drink with a bitter look on her face and left the 
room without looking back.
 
“Is the Expedition in the driveway new?” Catherine asked.   “It’s a great 
looking car.”
 
“Custom detailed last month,” Foley answered and poured himself another scotch.
 
“And you’re the only one who drives it?” Grissom asked.
 
“Ty takes it out every once and again,” Foley sat back down.  “I’ve got a BMW I 
usually take if I need to go out.  Listen, is there anything else?” he asked 
Brass.  “Because my family and I would really like to start the grieving process 
in private.”
 
“That’ll do for now, Congressman,” Brass stood, Grissom and Catherine following 
his lead.  “Thank you.”
 
“Rebecca Lake,” Tyler Foley said as they were leaving.   He didn’t move or take 
his eyes from the window.
 
“What?” Grissom inquired.
 
“You wanted to know if she had any friends,” he finally looked in their 
direction, the emptiness in his eyes staggering.   “Talk to Rebecca Lake.  She 
and Tasha were inseparable,” he said and turned back to the window.
 
Outside Grissom called Nick and told him to meet Sara at Evergreen Memorial High 
School to question Rebecca Lake.   He and Catherine sent Brass for a search 
warrant on the Expedition and decided to hang around the outside of the Foley’s 
estate until he came back.  Something was definitely going on in that house.  
What was something they were determined to find out.
 
********************
 
Sara pulled up to Evergreen Memorial expecting to find Nick waiting for her in 
the parking lot, but instead found Warrick waiting for her near the crosswalk.  
She tried to make herself at least halfway presentable by tucking in her shirt 
and refastening her belt so it wasn’t crooked as she approached him.   But 
judging by the look on his face, she wasn’t looking so hot.
 
“I thought I was meeting Nick,” she said as she fell into step next to Warrick.
 
“You were,” he answered, glancing at her as they walked.   “I asked him if I 
could switch.”
 
“Do I want to know why?”
 
“You look like shit,” he eyed her rumpled appearance and smiled.
 
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the reason you’re really here,” she answered with 
a sarcastic grin.
 
“I spoke to Catherine yesterday before you showed up with Shay,” he explained.  
“She told me what happened.”
 
“Great,” Sara nodded.   “You here to rip me a new one because…”
 
“Chill,” he interrupted her.   “I’m just concerned.  Catherine and I work 
together a lot.  She talks to me.  How do you think I knew about you two before 
anyone else?”
 
Sara opened her mouth and then shut it again as they approached the building.
 
“You’re looking out for her,” Sara smiled.   “That’s sweet.”
 
“So you wanna tell me why you didn’t say yes?” he asked as they hit the stairs 
and headed towards the library.
 
“It caught me by surprise and I needed to think about it…about things…it’s 
complicated…I’m not sure I’m ready…”
 
“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” he answered.   “That woman followed you 
to another state to win you back.   She talks about you almost as much as her 
kid.   And I’ve seen you when she walks into the room, it’s like there’s no one 
else there.  So what’s really going on?”
 
“I froze,” Sara shrugged and sighed.   “We’ve been trying to gloss over the 
reasons why I left in the first place and why I came back and it just kind of 
blew up in our faces…and we were kind of in the middle of having sex at the time 
and it just didn’t seem right.  People say a lot of things when they’re…you 
know,” she said, feeling slightly awkward.
 
“Or maybe it seemed too right,” he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I 
find that people are pretty much dead honest when they’re being intimate.   
That’s sort of the definition of intimacy, opening yourself up.   I know you’re 
a control freak, but if you don’t loosen up she’s gonna walk and one of these 
times you’re not going to be able to get her back,” he squeezed her shoulder and 
opened the library door for her.
 
Sara only had a second to think about what he had said, all the valid points he 
had made when the librarian pointed them into the back corner of the library.  
Sitting at a table alone was a girl with her head down in her arms, feet crossed 
under her chair, breathing in a steady rhythmic pattern.   As they approached, 
Sara could see a paperback copy of Dante’s Inferno lying open on its face near 
the girl’s backpack.   Sara and Warrick looked at each other for a second and 
then Sara placed a soft hand on the girl’s shoulder.
 
“Rebecca Lake?” she said, loud enough to wake the girl and send her flinching up 
in her seat, Sara’s hand retracting automatically.
 
Rebecca Lake had a round face with a button nose and a small spray of freckles 
across cheeks.  Her hair was chin length and dyed crayola red with a black 
streak towards the front, brown roots showing slightly.   Her eyes were deep 
brown and swollen, red around the rims.   She wiped at them for a second before 
reaching next to her and placing thin wire-rimmed glasses on her nose and 
regarding the two strangers standing in front of her.
 
“Are you Rebecca Lake?” Warrick asked.
 
“Becca,” she nodded shyly and shifted uncomfortably.   “This is about Tasha, 
isn’t it?”
 
“Yeah,” Sara nodded.  “Seems you were her only friend.  And I’ll be honest with 
you, Becca, we keep hitting walls wherever we go.”
 
“I don’t know what I can do to help you,” the young girl answered and played 
with her glasses.
 
“Anything you can tell us about Natasha would be helpful,” Warrick eyes were 
kind and sympathetic.
 
“Like what?” Becca asked.
 
“She have any enemies?   Anyone that would want to hurt her?” Sara asked.
 
“She didn’t really talk to anyone but me,” Becca shrugged her shoulders.  
 
“You two don’t really look like you’d run with the same crowds,” Sara commented.
 
“Why?  Because Tasha’s such a rebel and I’m your run of the mill book geek?” 
Becca asked with a bitter smile.  “When we were together she was a completely 
different person.   Something inside of her stilled, calmed.   She was my best 
friend,” the young girl struggled to hold back tears.   “I still can’t believe 
she’s gone.”
 
“She must have talked about her family life,” Sara continued, softly.  “Anything 
about that strike you as odd?”
 
“Other than the fact that her father cared more about his campaign than his own 
kids?  No, not odd.  Only sad,” Becca replied.   “He never knew what an 
extraordinary person she was.   She wasn’t all tattoos and piercings.   
Underneath it all she was just a sad girl with a huge heart that her parents had 
no part in nurturing.  She had to do it all herself.”
 
The bell rang and Becca Lake packed up her things, tossed her book into her 
backpack.
 
“Why Dante’s Inferno?” Sara asked.
 
Becca shrugged.  “Sometimes you have to walk through hell in order to make it to 
the light.”   The pain in her eyes made Sara’s insides tight.   Becca slung her 
backpack over her shoulders, the top of a skateboard peeking out over the top 
near her head.  It caught both Sara and Warrick’s attention.
 
“Nice board,” Sara smiled. 
 
“Thanks,” Becca blushed, pushed on her glasses.   “No car til I’m eighteen,” she 
explained.   “Beats taking the bus.  Can I go now?”
 
“Sure,” Sara nodded and grabbed the girl’s hand as she passed.  “Sorry for your 
loss,” she said and let go, the young girl turning back and holding her eyes as 
she walked away.
 
“She’s holding back,” Warrick said as Becca Lake disappeared.
 
“Something tells me that’s an understatement,” Sara nodded and followed him out 
to their cars.   “I’m gonna swing by Foley’s house and check out Natasha’s 
room.”
 
********************
 
Catherine was standing in the driveway alone when Sara emerged from the Tahoe 
and walked towards the house, case in hand.   Grissom and Brass were out chasing 
warrants and she was stuck waiting around for them to call her.  Sara approached 
her looking much the same as Catherine did herself.   Tired, regretful, and 
battered.  Stopping in front of the shorter woman, Sara moved the sunglasses 
from her eyes up to rest on the crown of her head, her bandaged hand catching 
Catherine’s eye.
 
“What happened?” Catherine’s concern was evident in the way she caught Sara’s 
hand in her own and examined it, Sara’s warm skin in her own making it hard to 
breathe.
 
“Silly me I thought putty knives were supposed to be dull,” Sara offered a small 
smile and turned her hand over in Catherine’s, holding it gently and finally 
breathing again when Catherine applied the same pressure back and didn’t pull 
away.
 
“You okay?” worried blue eyes searched Sara’s.   “You haven’t been sleeping.”
 
“I hate when we fight, Catherine,” Sara answered softly, voice beginning to 
waver.  “It’s unsettling.   Makes my stomach turn and my chest heavy…like I’m 
breaking inside.”
 
“You too, huh?” Catherine smiled and shifted closer, hand tugging at the front 
of Sara’s shirt absentmindedly as they shared a penitent gaze.
 
“I feel like we’re always going to have obstacles and doubts because of our 
pasts.  But I know now that I can’t do any of this anymore without you right 
there next to me,” Sara pulled Catherine closer and stared intently into her 
eyes.   “I’d do anything for you, Catherine.   You have to know that.  I’d never 
hurt you intentionally.”
 
“I know, but you do hurt me sometimes without knowing it I think,” Catherine 
nodded.  “There are a lot of things we’re going to have to work on and it’s 
going to take time.  But I had a long talk with myself and we decided that the 
second the door closed I was already missing you.   As often as we butt heads, 
as often as we seem to fight, something always draws me right back to you.  It 
might not be healthy, but that’s the way it is.”
 
“It’s my nature to want…to need to take care of you, Sara,” she continued.  “But 
sometimes I get scared too.”
 
“You know I’m still a work in progress, but I’ll try harder Catherine.  I 
promise,” Sara hated herself for not being more keyed in and aware of what 
Catherine was feeling, but she knew the only thing she could do now was try and 
work on it for the future.   “So what do we do now?”
 
“I’m sure we’ll figure out something,” Catherine squeezed her hand reassuringly. 
 “So what’s this I hear about wanting to check out Natasha Foley’s bedroom?   
Our guys already went over it.”
 
“Yeah, but they’re not us,” Sara smiled widely.   “I’ve got a sort of hunch, 
let’s just say.”
 
“Yeah well I practically had to beg Brass to let us back in there.  Mobley’s on 
his ass like white on rice not to fuck this one up.   Poor guy’s all twisted 
up,” Catherine led Sara towards the entrance.
 
“The fact that our getaway truck’s in Foley’s driveway’s gotta count for 
something,” Sara commented as they made it past the SUV.   “You guys still 
waiting on a warrant because I bet the arrogant prick doesn’t even lock his 
doors.”
 
“We can’t touch anything without Brass’ go ahead,” Catherine pulled Sara away 
from the car before she could get herself in any trouble.
 
“There’s some bad shit going down in this house, Catherine,” Sara said as they 
made it to the front door.
 
“I know.  Trust me, I know,” Catherine nodded.
 
 
Natasha Foley’s bedroom was covered in shades of black and grey.  There wasn’t a 
touch of color anywhere in the room except for the small traces of whites in the 
black and white abstract photos lining the walls and bureau.   Catherine went 
over the bed and underneath coming up empty handed.   Sitting down at the desk 
near the window, Catherine reached for the right side of drawers.
 
“She was left-handed,” Sara pointed out as she scanned through the pictures on 
the bureau.
 
“Yeah?” Catherine stopped and went for the left side instead.
 
“Watch was on her right wrist,” Sara nodded and smiled when Catherine grinned at 
her in loving admiration.   “Calluses on the left hand from writing.”
 
“You noticed all that at the autopsy?  I’m impressed,” Catherine began weeding 
through school papers and cds.  “Bingo,” she said and tapped her fingers on thin 
carboard in the drawer.
 
“What?  Our guys miss something just like I knew they would?” Sara continued 
picking through photos and notes, drawers full of clothes.
 
“False bottom,” Catherine smiled to herself and pulled the small barrier free 
exposing cards, letters and a small journal.   “I’d say the missing pieces have 
been found,” she opened a letter and started reading.  “You’ll never know how 
much you mean to me.  It doesn’t matter if no one else understands.  I love you 
as far as the starry night sky and as vast as the deepest ocean.   Nice 
imagery,” Catherine commented and moved to the next one.   “One of Donne’s 
sonnets signed always B.”
 
“Becca Lake,” Sara nodded to herself.   “I knew it.”
 
“You think?” Catherine asked.
 
“Definitely.  You should have seen this girl.  It was like she lost the other 
half of herself.   It was sad,” Sara answered.  “And she was holding something 
major back.   Now we know what it was.”
 
“Unrequited?”
 
“Do you keep love letters from someone you have no interest in?”
 
“Good point.  Boy would that tarnish Daddy’s image,” Catherine shook her head 
and opened the journal, flipping to the last entry.  “A pregnant teenage 
daughter with a rebellious streak who was also in a same-sex relationship.  
Natasha Foley was a lot more than troubled.  She was screaming for help and no 
one heard her.”
 
“Anything in that journal?” Sara asked.
 
“Night she died she put in an entry,” Catherine began reading.  “I told him it 
had to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.  I’m going to end it tonight whether he 
likes it or not.   Thank God for B.  She’s my savior,” she closed the book.  
“That’s it.  I’ll bet whoever ‘he’ is he wasn’t ready to accept it was the end.”
 
“Shit, Catherine look at this,” Sara pulled a photograph from the bottom of a 
thick pile and held it in front of the both of them as Catherine leaned close to 
her. 
 
“Who’s that?” she asked, referring to the girl standing next to Natasha Foley in 
the picture.
 
“That’s Becca Lake,” Sara answered.   “You recognize that necklace?” she pointed 
to the cross and barbed wire pendant hanging around the redhead’s neck in the 
picture.
 
“Or maybe Becca Lake wasn’t ready for it to be the end,” Catherine shook her 
head and gathered the rest of the evidence.
 
********************
 
Brass was pacing.  It was unnerving and it was starting to make everyone else in 
the room uneasy.   Grissom started the meeting by tossing around folders with 
all the information they already had and wanting everyone to throw in their two 
cents.   Mainly he wanted Nick and Warrick to disclose their Expedition findings 
since they had just returned from serving the warrant to Congressman Foley with 
a very rigid O’Riley at their side.  They looked a little worse for wear but 
they were both grinning.
 
“Let’s have it boys,” Grissom instructed as they joined him and the two women 
around the break room table.
 
“The SUV was purchased twenty-six days ago,” Nick started and passed Grissom a 
folder with a lot of paperwork.   “There’s barely a hundred miles on the thing 
and less than three hours after Natasha Foley’s body was found, the Congressman 
has it detailed.”
 
“Now what does a brand new car need detailing for?” Warrick continued.  “We 
subpoenaed the detail order and it called for an entire interior clean up. 
Vacuuming, dusting, spraying, the works.”
 
“However, they must not have been paying too close attention,” Nick grinned and 
pulled a small evidence bag from his vest.   “We managed to pull the same 
textured plastic that was found in Natasha’s hair from between the seat 
cushions.   It’s a perfect match to the interior light cover which also had to 
be replaced.”
 
“She died in that car,” Sara surmised.
 
“Hairs and fibers?” Grissom asked.
 
“Nada,” Warrick answered.
 
“Catherine, you and Sara get anything from the girl’s bedroom?” Grissom asked 
the woman, noticing Brass was still pacing and looking even more uncomfortable.
 
“Apparently Natasha Foley and Becca Lake were having some sort of romantic 
relationship,” Catherine answered.
 
“Jesus Christ,” Brass said under his breath.
 
“We’ve got letters, journal entries, and a picture of Becca Lake wearing the 
necklace we found in Natasha’s hand the night she was murdered,” Sara ignored 
the cop and continued.   “But she also wrote about ending a relationship with 
what looks to be the father of the baby the night she died.”
 
“We just need to find out who that is,” Grissom stated.
 
As if on cue, Greg burst through the break room doors out of breath and carrying 
a piece of paper that would prove to break the case wide open.  He stopped with 
a hand on the back of Sara’s chair and tried to replenish his oxygen as all eyes 
turned to him.
 
“Fetal tissue results,” he said and tossed the paper onto the table.  “I was 
able to pretty much isolate Natasha Foley’s contribution and then I ran the test 
again just to be sure.”
 
“What is it, Sanders?” Brass asked, sweat beading on his forehead.
 
“DNA’s familial,” Greg frowned.   “The father of Natasha Foley’s baby was a male 
family member.”
 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brass moaned and pounded a fist into an unsuspecting 
coffeemaker, shattering it on impact.
 
“Jim, would you like to sit down?” Grissom offered.
 
“No, I don’t want to sit down,” Brass snapped at him.   “I’m fucked.  You’re 
fucked and we’re all fucked.  This is going to be one major fucking scandal and 
we’re not going to be able to keep the lid on it much longer.”
 
“We shouldn’t have to,” Sara interjected.   “We’re not the ones who killed a 
sixteen year-old girl and got her pregnant,” Catherine’s hand on her knee under 
the table calmed her slightly.
 
“We’re going to need a warrant for Larry Foley’s DNA,” Grissom told the Captain.
 
“Are you fucking crazy?” he answered.   “You think any judge in the state of 
Nevada is going to give me a warrant for Congressman Larry Foley’s DNA so we can 
test it against the fetal tissue of his dead daughter’s baby?”
 
“Given all the evidence we have right now, I’d like to see any one of them try 
to deny a warrant,” Grissom smiled and tossed a folder at the balding man.  
 
“You better be fucking right about this or we’re all going to burn in Hell,” he 
said curtly and quickly left the room.
 
********************
 
“So why are we doing this again?” Sara asked as she and Catherine stood outside 
of Becca Lake’s front door.
 
“Grissom wants us to cover all our bases and Brass demanded it,” Catherine 
reminded her.  “Plus, she did withhold evidence.  She lied.”
 
“Right,” Sara nodded and knocked on the door.   Becca Lake answered only seconds 
later.   “Hey Becca, can we come in?” she asked the young girl.
 
“Uh, sure,” the girl allowed them entrance.
 
“Your parents around?” Catherine asked.
 
“It’s just me and Mom,” Becca answered.   “She’s still at work.  What’s going 
on?”
 
“Listen, Becca,” Sara spoke gently.   “There are some things we need cleared 
up.”
 
“We know you weren’t telling us everything,” Catherine interjected.  “We found 
the letters.”
 
Becca slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and took a deep breath, staring 
at her hands in her lap.
 
“Did you know she was pregnant?” Sara asked.
 
Becca nodded, ran a hand through her hair.
 
“We found your necklace in Natasha’s hand the night she was murdered,” Catherine 
said and waited for a reaction.   And she sure did get one.  Becca Lake’s color 
faded, her breathing steadily increasing, eyes darting from Catherine to Sara 
and back again.  “Did you two have a fight?”
 
“No,” Becca shook her head emphatically.   “I know what you’re thinking and no.  
 I would never have hurt her.  I couldn’t have.  She was everything to me.”
 
“But she was pregnant with someone else’s baby,” Sara reminded her.  “That must 
have hurt.”
 
“She didn’t love him,” Becca answered.   “Not really.  Not anymore.”
 
“Who, Becca?”
 
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.   I won’t betray her.”
 
“You’re betraying her if you let her murderer walk free,” Catherine pleaded with 
the girl.  “Help us, Becca.  Please.”
 
“No,” she shook her head.   “I want a lawyer.”
 
And with those four words all interrogation had to cease.   Catherine and Sara 
nodded and instructed Becca to follow them outside.   They handed her off to 
O’Riley who was waiting with a squad car to take her downtown.  He was told to 
keep her in an interrogation room until someone from Criminalistics got in touch 
with him.  Sara and Catherine headed back to CSI.
 
********************
 
Sara told Catherine there was something she had to take care of and headed for 
the stairwell.  Being so cryptic, Catherine figured it was only fair if she 
followed her.   Stopping short when she noticed Sara enter one of the trace 
labs, Catherine stood close enough to hear what was going on, but far enough 
away to not be seen.  When she saw the person Sara was headed for, her blood 
started to run cold.
 
“Sara, just the woman I wanted to see,” Shay said as Sara closed the door and 
approached her.  “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
 
“Actually before you say anything, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she 
motioned between herself and the gorgeous lab tech.   
 
“How so?” a dark eyebrow arched in question.
 
“I’m not really good at all this communication stuff so I’m just gonna come 
right out and say it,” Sara was motioning with her hands, a sign that told 
Catherine she was slightly uncomfortable and nervous.   “I’m with someone.”
 
“I see,” Shay nodded.   “So I guess asking you out to dinner would be 
inappropriate?”
 
It was all Catherine could do not to barge through those doors and kick that 
little bitch’s ass.
 
“It would,” Sara nodded and managed a nervous smile.   “I’m sorry.  I had no 
idea that you…I…there was…”
 
“S’okay, Sara,” Shay stopped her with a hand on her arm which she let linger a 
little too long.   “I understand.”
 
“Okay,” Sara nodded and took a step back.
 
“Give Catherine my best,” Shay said with a smile.   Sara was momentarily 
confused.
 
“How’d you know?”
 
“Just call it a wild guess,” Shay answered smoothly, glancing outside the lab 
and letting Catherine know she knew she was there.   “I hope we can still be 
friends,” she turned back to Sara.
 
“Actually I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Sara said apologetically.
 
“Fair enough.  Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Shay nodded and gave a small 
smile.   “She’s a lucky woman, Sara.”
 
“I’m the lucky one,” Sara answered and looked back briefly before exiting the 
room.
 
Sara wasn’t three feet into the hallway when Catherine grabbed her hand and 
pulled her into the nearest dark, unoccupied lab.
 
“Catherine…” Sara began but was silenced by Catherine’s lips pressed against her 
own, her back pushed up firmly against the now closed lab door.  “Catherine...” 
she tried again, but Catherine’s hands were all over her, in her hair, on her 
waist, lips trailing over her mouth and down her neck with a hunger that would 
not be denied.
 
“Fuck it,” Sara growled and grabbed Catherine around the waist, pushing her back 
until they connected with the cold metal table in the middle of the room.
 
Both hands on either side of Catherine’s waist, Sara lifted the blonde and 
quickly laid her on the table, pouncing on top of her as fast as she could.  
Catherine reached a hand around the back of Sara’s neck and pulled her down 
until their lips were tangled, teeth biting, tongues teasing.   Sara ran a hand 
up Catherine’s leg, over her stomach and unbuttoned the blonde’s shirt just 
enough to allow her hand entrance to claim a soft, warm breast and caress it 
gently.  Catherine’s breathing was fast and warm in Sara’s ear as the brunette 
moved her lips down to the soft skin of Catherine’s throat and sucked at it, 
tongue dipping out every few seconds to taste the saltiness of her skin.   
Catherine’s hands were pulling Sara’s pants apart when the door creaked open and 
voices flooded the room.  They both froze, Sara pulling back to turn startled 
eyes to Catherine’s, their breathing coming quicker as they tried to be quiet.
 
“So grab your pager and meet us downstairs,” it was Nick’s voice and it was 
fading as the door began to swing shut.
 
Sara recognized the wafting java odor as that of one of Greg’s Jamaican roasts 
and had to clamp and hand over Catherine’s mouth as the young man felt around 
the table, his hand grazing Catherine’s thigh as he searched the dark room for 
his pager.   He found it close to Sara’s foot, grabbed it, and headed back 
towards the door, pausing when he was half way out into the hallway.
 
“You two might want to make it a quickie,” he said, grin evident in his voice.  
“Father’s DNA just cleared and there’s a meeting starting in about five 
minutes,” he informed them and then shut the door behind them.
 
Catherine’s eyes lit up in the dark as she let a small laugh escape her lips.  
Sara smiled back and started to climb off of her.  Catherine pulled her back 
down.
 
“We’ve got five minutes,” she said and reached up to grab Sara’s bottom lip 
between her teeth.
 
********************
 
“I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Brass was saying as Sara and Catherine 
slipped into the room and headed for the cooler.   They were both a little 
thirsty and hot.
 
“Well there’s only one other person in that family with access to the car that 
could have contributed the other set of markers,” Grissom stated.
 
“You think you’re going to get Tyler Foley’s DNA after all this shit, you really 
are insane,” the Captain commented.
 
“What a twisted goddamn family,” Nick commented and crushed his Coke can with 
one hand.
 
“There’s got to be something else we can use,” Sara picked up Natasha Foley’s 
journal and flipped it open, a small folded piece of paper dropping to the 
floor.
 
Catherine picked it up and opened it, a small knowing smile spreading across her 
face as she turned it over and read the back.   She held up a sketch of the 
Vegas skyline exactly as it looked from the cliff where they found Natasha’s 
body.
 
“Seen this before, anyone?” she asked and she could have sworn Grissom’s eyes 
lit up.  She flipped it over and read the back, “all my love, Ty.”
 
“Go get us a warrant, Jim,” Grissom instructed and turned back to Sara and 
Catherine.  “Nice work, ladies.”
 
“This isn’t going to get you a warrant,” Brass frowned.
 
“Will a signed statement that Natasha Foley admitted Tyler was the father get us 
one?” Sara asked.
 
“What are you thinking?” Catherine touched her arm.
 
“I’m thinking Becca Lake has nothing to be afraid of now.”
 
********************
 
“Are you going to arrest me?” a tearful Becca Lake asked as she sat in an 
interrogation room at the Vegas Police Station with Catherine and Sara sitting 
in front of her and Brass pacing the perimeter of the room.
 
“No, it’s nothing like that Becca,” Sara assured her.   “We know Tyler’s the 
father of Natasha’s baby and we also know you know that.”
 
“She wouldn’t let me tell anyone else.   She didn’t want anyone to know.  Said 
her father would kill her for tarnishing their good name,” the redhead finally 
admitted.
 
“We need you to sign a statement that will help us prove that it was Tyler’s.   
Can you do that?  Can you do it for Tasha?” Sara asked.
 
“He’ll kill me.  He said if I touched her again he’d kill me,” Becca answered, 
fear in her eyes.  “He ripped the necklace right off my neck.  Said if I didn’t 
back off he’d make sure I’d never have her.  He’d make sure I’d never have 
anyone.”
 
Becca pushed at the sleeves of her sweater until they were up near her elbows 
revealing a Chinese character tattoo on her right forearm that was identical to 
the one on Natasha Foley’s neck.   Catherine noticed it first.
 
“Strength,” she said with a half smile.
 
“What?” Becca said.
 
“Your tattoo,” Catherine motioned to the black ink.   “Strength.  Natasha had 
the same one on her neck.”
 
Becca nodded.  “I told when she couldn’t find it in herself, she could take it 
from me.”   
 
She turned her arm over to reveal another one, the same as on Natasha Foley’s 
inner thigh.  “Courage,” Becca said and then pulled her sweater up to reveal her 
right bicep area and the same tattoo on Natasha’s abdomen.   “Trust.”
 
“Don’t you think it’s time you made good on those promises?” Sara asked.
 
Becca smiled for the first time since they had met her.   “You have a pen?”
 
********************
 
“I want to say for the record that I’m outraged at the way the Las Vegas Police 
Department has handled this whole situation,” Larry Foley said as he took a seat 
between his wife and their lawyer, Tyler Foley seated at the far end of the 
table.
 
“If I were you I wouldn’t say anything for the record,” Brass replied.  “We’ve 
already got enough to put you away for accessory after the fact.”
 
“Accessory after the fact of what exactly?” the lawyer chimed in.
 
“You know even Schumacher’s eight thousand dollar suits aren’t going to help you 
out of this mess, Larry,” Brass leaned in close to the Congressman’s face and 
drew out his name.
 
“Let me just lay it all out on the table for you and then good old Tyler here 
can tell us everything we want to know and your wife can take the train back to 
southside by herself while we cart your sorry asses off to lockup,” the Captain 
finally let all his anger and frustration from the past few days go.  Grissom, 
Sara, and Catherine were grinning.  They were quite impressed.
 
“I resent…”
 
“Can it, jackass,” Brass shut the Congressman up.   “We’re going to take Tyler 
’s DNA, which I have a warrant for,” he tossed the folded blue paper on the 
table.  “We’re going to match it to the epithelials on Becca Lake’s necklace and 
Natasha’s dislodged tongue ring.  Then we’re going to run a paternity test on 
your daughter’s unborn fetus and find out that your son, her twin brother, is in 
deed the father.  After that we’re going to tear your home apart and find the 
peanut oil he dipped your daughter’s tongue ring in before he helped her put it 
back in and caused her to choke to death on her own tongue.  Any questions?”
 
“Just one,” Tyler spoke.
 
“Tyler…” his father warned.
 
“If I tell you everything you want to know right now will it get me away from my 
father any quicker?” the young man asked.
 
“Depends on what you got,” Brass commented.
 
“Tasha and I were close.   My mother was an alcoholic up until last year and my 
father’s been too busy campaigning to pay attention to us since as long as I can 
remember,” he said calmly, not wavering.  “All we had was each other.”
 
“I have a brother,” Sara interrupted, cocking her head to the side.  “Our 
upbringing was even worse than yours, I can promise you that.  But he’s my 
brother.   There are some things you just don’t do,” Catherine took her hand 
protectively.
 
“I don’t expect anyone to understand the bond we had…the connection,” Tyler 
continued, still no emotion in his voice.  “Sleeping together just seemed the 
next natural step to take.   Everything was great until she met that dyke slut,” 
his voice suddenly took a bitter turn.  “All of a sudden she didn’t want me 
anymore.  This bitch was telling Tasha she didn’t need me…that they could be 
together and she wouldn’t have to be alone.”
 
“Natasha wanted it to stop and you didn’t,” Grissom said.
 
“We drove to the cliff where we always used to go before and we had sex,” the 
young man explained.  “Then she starts telling me it’s over, it’s never going to 
happen again.   So I play along like it’s all okay and give her the new barbell 
I’d seen her eyeing at the mall a few weeks ago.   She was so excited and she 
had no idea what was going to happen next,” his lips curved up in a smile.  “As 
she was choking to death, I held up Becca’s necklace, told her that bitch would 
get what was coming to her too.  She smashed the interior light when she started 
freaking out.”
 
“Why did you shoot her if she was already dead?” Catherine asked.
 
“Just wanted to make sure she’d never wake up again,” he answered coldly.
 
“And the baby?” Brass asked.
 
“She never told me,” he said and had to look away.
 
“Dammit Annabeth, if you hadn’t been so busy getting drunk all the time…” Foley 
started yelling.
 
“And if you hadn’t been too busy with your career for twenty years,” she 
countered and put her arm around her son, around the only thing she seemed to 
have left.
 
“I’m not involved in this and no jury’s going to conclude otherwise,” Foley said 
and started to leave.
 
“You got involved the minute you got that car detailed to destroy evidence, Mr. 
Foley,” Grissom stated as Brass slapped the cuffs on the older man and 
personally escorted him out of the room.
 
As Tyler Foley was getting up to be taken into custody, Sara caught the glimmer 
of a chain peeking out from his collar and on a hunch grabbed at the boy’s neck 
and yanked the chain into her hand, breaking it.   Catherine’s hand was on her 
lower back when Sara opened her hand to reveal the pendant was their missing 
shell casing with a hole drilled through it to hang it from.  Sara’s eyes met 
Tyler’s in an unspoken question.
 
“She’ll always be with me,” he said, lips curled in a snarl.  “Always.”
 
“Bag this,” she tossed the necklace to a waiting officer.   “And the shoes too,” 
she motioned to the boys feet that were covered in skateboarding sneakers held 
together with duct tape.   “They’re evidence.”
 
********************
 
Greg wandered into the DNA lab wanting nothing more than to grab his jacket and 
backpack and go soak in a nice long bath.   He was drained and even coffee 
couldn’t cure it.   He noticed an envelope on his desk that hadn’t been there 
earlier and his curiosity was peaked immediately.  His name was on it and he 
recognized the handwriting the second he saw it.  It made him smile.   Opening 
it, two tickets to the next Blink-182 concert and a small note fell into his 
hands.  It was all he could do not to jump up and down and shriek like a girl.   
He flipped the note open and felt his insides get all warm and sticky.
 
                        Go find yourself a nice girl and take her to a dirty, 
chauvinistic punk           
rock show…and don’t forget the flowers, girls like that stuff.   
      You’ll never quite know, Sanders…you’ll never quite know…
                                    Always,
                                                 Sara
 
Greg folded up the paper and tickets and put them safely in the front pocket of 
his backpack.  Try as he might, he’d never really be over Sara and that was just 
fine with him.  The smile never left his face as he made the long, lonely ride 
back to his apartment.
 
********************
 
“So that’s the last of it,” Sara stacked the last of what seemed to be thousands 
of boxes in the hallway and flopped down on the couch next to Catherine who 
pulled her into a warm embrace immediately.   
 
They had decided that working through the past also meant embracing the future 
and surrendering to their conscious need and desire to make things work, 
whatever the cost, no matter how hard they had to struggle.   Moving in 
together, Sara leaving her comfort zone to join Catherine in hers, just seemed 
like the only logical step to take.   Sara was learning to give and Catherine 
was learning to take.   They were changing, their relationship evolving into 
something stronger and more stable.  They were finally finding some solid 
ground, some form of balance.   And they were doing it together.
 
“You sure this is what you want?” the blonde purred into her ear from behind.
 
“Too late now,” Sara joked.   “I’m not unpacking this shit again.”
 
“You are once we get it to my place,” Catherine said firmly and then smiled.  “ 
Our place.”
 
“I’m loving the sound of that,” Sara turned in her arms and kissed her soundly.
 
“Me too,” Catherine nibbled on her bottom lip for a second longer.
 
“And you’re sure Lindsey’s going to be okay with all this?”
 
“Are you kidding?  She’s been pouring over her bookcase for the last four days 
trying to decide what you’re going to read to her first,” Catherine said with a 
grin and draped her hands over Sara’s shoulders.  “Apparently you read Poe 
better than me.”
 
“I really want this to work,” Sara turned serious.   “When I think about the 
future all I see is you and me…and Lindsey as a pain in the ass teenager making 
us wait up until three o’clock in the morning for her to come home. She’s going 
to have your rebellious streak, you know.  And sleeping in on Sundays while you 
make me breakfast and fetch my paper,” she said with a smile when Catherine 
rolled her eyes.   “Actually all I see is you, Catherine, and it scares me that 
forever just doesn’t seem long enough when I’m looking in your eyes.”
 
“We’ll just have to do one better than forever then,” Catherine kissed her 
sweetly.
 
“Promise?” Sara asked, eyes still closed.
 
“Always,” Catherine kissed her again and pushed her back against the cushions.  
“Now what do you say we give this couch one last ride?” she smiled 
mischievously.
 
“When you say it like that how can I resist?” Sara joked and pulled Catherine 
down on top of her.
 
With Catherine’s lips pressed against her own, their bodies slowly melting into 
each other, and the sun beating through the window to surround them with light, 
Sara couldn’t help but feel like things were just as they should have been.  And 
finally things were starting to move forward again.
 
END.
 
12/20/02
So where is 'Hidden Truths' headed next??  I have absolutely no idea.  This 
chapter was extremely difficult to
write for some reason and went through a few revisions before it ended up here.  
So I'm basically at a loss right now.  
If you've got an idea or a suggestion, please feel free to send it on over.  And 
thanks again for reading. 





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