Title : The Danger of Silence Author : Mel Summary : Sara learns the hard way that it’s always a good idea to watch your back. Sara/Catherine Disclaimer : I’m just borrowing. All characters and everything else CSI belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. Rating : NC17. some violence, some sex, and plenty of angst…i’m not sure I know how to write a story without it J Feedback : Always welcome. Fivebyfive13@prodigy.net Archive : Ask me and it’s yours :) Author’s Note : Okay, so this is still pretty much a first draft of sorts. Sometimes I read it and I love it, sometimes I read it and I want to change huge chunks of it…I’m probably just being over critical…anyway it’s a sequel to my first C/S fic, ‘Little Girl Lost’ which you might want to read first. So, on with the show…I hope it is enjoyed… “Hello?” “What are you wearing?” “Excuse me?” “What.are.you.wearing? Or not wearing?” “Now what kind of girl would I be if I told you that?” “You know, it’s a lot more fun if you play along.” “Actually, it’s a lot more fun if I don’t. So, what are you wearing?” “I’ll show you in a minute. Anyway, I asked you first.” “Socks and my gun.” “Cold metal against your skin? That’s kind of dangerous.” “It’s not so cold when I’m thinking about you.” The doorbell suddenly rang, interrupting their conversation. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to call you back. I seem to have a visitor.” Sara clicked off the cordless phone and dropped it on the kitchen counter before she padded across the hardwood floor towards the door to her apartment. She opened it without even looking through the peephole, a sacrilege in her profession. Standing before her was five feet and six inches of pure radiance. “You’re not even wearing socks,” Catherine said as she stepped into the apartment and took in Sara’s completely clothed body…except for her feet. “I will be in a minute,” Sara replied, shutting the door and turning back to Catherine and smiling as she took slow steps toward the other woman. “No you won’t,” Catherine said, a wide grin sending sparkles to her blue eyes, as she closed the remaining short distance between herself and Sara and slid a hand behind the taller woman’s neck before pulling hungry lips down to meet her own. “We have to be at work soon,” Sara breathed in between kisses. Disregarding the protests in her head, she slid Catherine’s jacket off her shoulders and threw it on the soft recliner next to the coffee table. “We’ve got an hour,” Catherine replied, sliding her tongue along Sara’s bottom lip as she tugged the younger woman’s shirt up over her head in one quick motion and threw it on top of her own discarded jacket. She lost her free hand in Sara’s hair as their lips connected once more. “The couch, then,” Sara said, backpedaling under Catherine’s forceful hands until her legs stopped against soft leather. “Bed’s definitely too far away,” Catherine agreed as she gently pushed Sara onto the couch and climbed on top of her. Sara was about to say something about them being late again when she felt Catherine’s warm mouth on her neck and strong hands pulling her belt apart swiftly. And when Catherine’s hands slid further down, everything else faded away. ******************** “Catherine, what are we doing?” Sara asked as they were reapplying their clothes, getting ready to leave for work. “What are you talking about?” Catherine asked, slipping her boots on and bending over in her seat to tie them. “I mean, we go to work. Sometimes we grab breakfast after. And then a couple times a week, you stop by and we have sex,” Sara said, pulling her shirt over her head and tucking it into her pants. “Great sex.” “Great sex,” Sara said correcting herself and smiling for a moment before delving back into a serious topic. “Is that all this is to you?” She asked, looking at Catherine sideways and narrowing her eyes. “I don’t think so,” Catherine answered, pushing to her feet and buttoning her shirt. “You don’t think so?” Sara asked with a hint of anger and frustration in her voice. “Sara, when do you think the last time I had a serious relationship was? Or any relationship, for that matter?” Catherine countered, soft eyes willing Sara to calm down before things got elevated. “I haven’t been serious with anybody since Eddie and that was over a long time ago.” “I haven’t been in a relationship in years either, Catherine,” Sara answered, nodding in understanding. “I’ve slipped out the door before dawn too many times to count, though, and I know I don’t want that anymore.” “Neither do I,” Catherine replied. “But I also think we’re too old to make promises that neither of us are sure we can keep.” “And we’re too old to play games,” Sara said, turning away to click her gun onto her belt and grab her jacket. “Sara, I’m not playing games here,” Catherine said, grabbing Sara and forcing her back into looking at her. “If I was, I wouldn’t stay up until six in the morning on the phone with you. I wouldn’t keep coming back.” “I’m overreacting. I’m sorry,” Sara said, shaking her head. “My trust issues tend to trigger my defense mechanisms when I start getting attached. It’s not your problem.” “In time, I think I might want it to become my problem,” Catherine replied, slipping her hand into Sara’s. “For now, the best I can offer you is one day at a time. It’s like I’m learning how to do this all over again only this time I want to do it right.” “I understand,” Sara said squeezing Catherine’s hand and flashing her a quick smile. “Good.” “We better get going or we’re going to be late,” Sara said, holding Catherine’s jacket out for her. “So breakfast after shift?” Catherine asked as they headed for the door. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Sara answered taking hold of Catherine’s hand as they slipped out of the apartment and into the night. ******************** Sara’s boots hit the hallway with a steady rhythm as she made her way from the locker room to the break room to grab a coffee. Catherine had said she needed to talk to Grissom about something and Sara didn’t ask too many questions. It was getting harder for the two of them not to be hyperaware of all their actions with the changing circumstances, but they were doing their best to keep business and pleasure separate. When she finally reached her destination, Nick was already sitting down reading the Sports section of the day’s newspaper. He looked up at her as she entered the room. “Sara,” he said with a grin. “Smiling again? What is going on with you lately?” “Fuck you, Nick,” Sara replied with a smirk as she poured hot coffee into a paper cup. “There’s my girl,” he countered. “Only it was more effective before when you at least tried to put on your mean face.” “Do we have a case yet?” “Grissom said he’d buzz us as soon as he got something,” Nick said flipping to the business section. “Where’s Catherine at?” “What?” Sara managed before choking on a gulp of coffee. “Why are you asking me?” “I don’t know. Saw you guys come in together,” Nick answered. Sara was about to say something smart when their pagers went off. They both clicked them off and Sara let Nick reach the door first and almost bumped into him when he stopped short and turned to look at her with a sincere smile. “By the way, Sara,” he said. “Looks good on you,” he said with a wink and walked towards Grissom’s office, leaving Sara smile to herself. ******************** The room was dark and smelled like recent death. The only light creeping through the darkness was the faint glow of the streetlight sliding through the cracks between the blinds. The bedroom door creaked open slowly as Grissom’s unit entered the room one by one. The body was on the bed flat on her back, arms at her sides and hands still gripping the sheets beneath them. The victim’s eyes were wide open, staring straight up at the ceiling. Her mouth was also open, the only disarray in the room characterized by the scattered feathers around the victim’s head. “Déjà vu,” Catherine stated as she filed in the room behind Grissom and dropped her case by the foot of the bed. “Third one in two months,” Nick added, coming to stand behind her. “Definitely a serial,” Warrick said running a hand over the back of his neck. “Listen to you guys,” Grissom said, frustrated. “Let the evidence tell the story. Don’t just make inferences.” “Gris, c’mon. You have to admit there’s something a little too familiar about this scene,” Warrick stated. “Let me infer for you,” Catherine shot Grissom a sarcastic smile as she walked over the body. “Gun shot, in the mouth out the back of the head. Limited spatter because she was lying exactly in this position when it happened. The bullet, a twenty-two, will be found lodged somewhere in the mattress. Eyes open, hands still clutching the sheets. Nothing but terror on the poor girl’s face. No forced entry. And last but not least, Valentine’s Day card placed on the abdomen. Signed, with the words ‘thanks for the phone call’ written in black ink.” “I’ve already deducted our guy’s a serial,” Grissom said to Catherine with a smirk. “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes. Where’s Sara?” “Why are you asking me?” Catherine asked, caught off guard. “You rode in together,” Grissom answered. “Definitely no forced entry,” Sara said, arriving in the doorway just in time to see all eyes shoot over to her. “In fact, not even a scratch near the lock. Which means it wasn’t jimmied open either.” “She knew her attacker,” Grissom said, turning back to the body. He flipped the card on her stomach open with the tip of his pen. “Thanks for the phone call,” he read, “signed Feste.” “Who the hell is Feste?” Catherine asked. “Didn’t he use another name last time?” Nick asked. “What is it Grissom?” Sara asked, noticing the thoughtful look on his face. “We are dealing the same perp here aren’t we?” “Oh yeah,” Grissom replied. “Feste was a character in Twelfth Night. Last time it was Nick.” “But Nick who?” Warrick asked. “Midsummer Night’s Dream, Nick Bottom,” Grissom answered. “And the first one was signed Roderigo.” “Othello,” Sara interjected with a smile. Grissom nodded and smiled back. “This is all very fascinating, but what does one have to do with the other?” Catherine asked. “Other than they’re all from Shakespeare.” “They were all fools,” Grissom stated. “Our guy thinks of himself as a fool.” “Valentine’s card. Thanks for the phonecall. Characterizing himself as a fool,” Catherine said aloud to herself. “This guy obviously has some rejection issues.” “God help anyone else that’s ever turned him down,” Warrick added. “Normally, I’d be more than happy to argue the God factor with you, but we need to get all the evidence back to the lab so we can catch this guy before girlfriend number four ends up with a hole in her head,” Grissom said. “Sara, you’re coming with me and the body. We’re going to need a rape kit.” “But rape isn’t in this guy’s M.O.,” Sara said. “We need to cover all our bases, Sara,” Grissom answered. “Warrick, I want you to hit the neighborhood and find out if anybody saw or heard anything. Or if they knew who our vic was involved with.” “Check, Boss,” Warrick said before slipping out of the room. “Catherine and Nick, I want every centimeter of this room analyzed. When you get the evidence to the lab, put a rush on it. We need to get this guy now,” Grissom said, handing out assignments. “And get that card traced if you can. Maybe we can find out where they’re coming from. Shall we?” he said turning to Sara. Sara risked a wink and a smile at Catherine which was rewarded with a smile of Catherine’s own. The notion may have been lost on the other two CSIs, but for the two involved it was even more meaningful than words. ******************** “Rape kit came back negative,” Sara said, leaning against the doorframe of Grissom’s office. “But I did get some scrapings from underneath her fingernails. They’re with Greg now.” “Good,” Grissom said from behind his desk. “Sara, could you come in for a minute and close the door please,” he requested. Sara was confused, but nodded and closed the door just the same. She walked over to the desk and sat down across from her superior. “Listen, Sara, Catherine told me what happened between you two a few weeks ago,” Grissom said, playing with the rim of his glasses. “She did?” Sara answered, feeling her stomach drop to the floor. She shifted in her chair nervously and averted her eyes to the hands in her lap. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about it,” Grissom said sympathetically. “You’ve thought about it,” Sara said in disbelief, confusion spreading across her face. “With all the things that go on here. And all the people we come in contact with. I think it’s just natural.” “Natural,” Sara repeated. “Yes, Sara,” Grissom replied with a small smile. “You’re not the first person to ever feel that way.” “Of course I’m not,” Sara said, still fidgeting with her hands. “But I didn’t think Catherine would…” “She was just concerned about you, that’s all,” Grissom interrupted her. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately and her care for you is more than obvious even to the naked eye.” “It is?” Sara asked sheepishly. “She just wanted to make sure that you’re not going to throw away your career because of your feelings.” “My feelings?” Sara asked, shifting from embarrassed to confused once more. “We’ve all wanted to quit at one point or another, Sara,” Grissom explained. “And it’s never easy to see that we’re making a difference in the world when we tend to analyze everything to the point where nothing makes sense anymore. But the team needs you, Sara. The work you do here is more important than you might think.” “Right, quitting,” Sara said with a laugh. “It was a fleeting thought, Grissom. And after what happened with Lindsey, you don’t have to worry about me quitting anymore. I’ve seen what our work can do. My work is my life, Grissom and I’m not ready to give it up yet.” “Good,” he nodded in understanding. “On a more personal note, I’ve noticed that you’re not putting in as much OT as usual. And you’re rarely here on your days off anymore. Care to clue me in on why?” he asked with a smile. “What does the evidence tell you?” Sara countered with a smile of her own. “Tells me you’ve got a secret,” Grissom answered. There was a small knock on the door before it opened and out an end to Grissom’s subsequent interrogation. “Sorry to interrupt,” Greg said sticking his hands in his lab coat pockets and shifting his eyes from Grissom to Sara and back again. “What is it, Greg?” Grissom asked the young man. “DNA from the fingernails is male, but other than that I can’t tell you anything else until I get a sample to compare it to,” he replied. “But the real reason I’m here is that Stan up in trace just got sick all over the carpet sample Catherine and Nick dropped off.” “Didn’t Doc Robbins say that there were some strange fibers stuck to the vic’s mouth?” Sara asked Grissom. “Yes, we were going to compare them to the carpet fibers,” Grissom answered. “Well, you’re not now unless someone goes back there and gets another sample that isn’t covered in last night’s Chinese food,” Greg said. “I’m on it,” Sara said standing and turning to leave. “Take Nick with you,” Grissom said. “Grissom, I’ll be there for about two minutes. Nick’s with Warrick talking to the vic’s boyfriend.” “I’ll go with you,” Greg offered with a smile. “No, I need you in the lab,” Grissom said. “Be careful, Sara. Get in there, get the sample, and get out. The saying is true. The perp sometimes does come back to the scene,” he warned. “Call me if you either of you come up with anything else,” Sara said and exited the room. Sara headed down to the locker room to grab her kit and jacket. She had closed her locker and was about to turn around to leave when a strong hand on her back pushed her forward and held her against the lockers gently. “I was gonna say spread em, but that’s entirely too cliché,” Catherine said close to Sara’s ear. “Oh I don’t know,” Sara replied. “I think I might have liked it.” “I’ll have to remember that next time,” Catherine said catching Sara’s left ear in between her teeth and pulling at it slightly. Sara managed to push off the lockers quickly and reverse their positions with little trouble. She trailed a hand down the side of Catherine’s face, staring into eyes that were growing more serious with every second, before seizing warm, glossy lips firmly with her own. Their mouths opened and explored one another with heated sloppiness and Sara slid a leg in between Catherine’s, grinding against her without even knowing it. It was only when she felt hands sliding over her breasts and a slight moaning transferring from Catherine’s mouth to her own, that Sara realized what they were doing and where they were. She pulled her mouth away, eliciting some ragged breathing from the woman in front of her. Sara began to step away, but Catherine grabbed at Sara tightly around the waist keeping her close. “We’re at work,” Sara said, her lips returning to hover over Catherine’s. “Technically, we’re in a locker room,” Catherine replied, looking up into Sara’s clouded eyes. “Technically, I’m supposed to be back at the scene collecting evidence.” “Can it wait?” Catherine said, nibbling on Sara’s lower lip. “Maybe just for a couple minutes,” she added, sliding her tongue against Sara’s in a steady rhythm. “Wait a minute,” she said pulling back after her brain started working again. “Did Nick and I miss something?” Catherine asked, still slightly breathless. “No,” Sara said stepping back and laughing. “Stan the man yacked all over the carpet sample.” “You’re kidding me,” Catherine replied, taking a step forward away from the locker. “Wish I was,” Sara said. “So is being at work like a turn on for you?” she asked with a waggling of her eyebrows. “Being anywhere near you is a turn on for me,” Catherine shot back at her with a wide grin. “Want me to come with you?” “Nah, I won’t be long. Besides you might want to go tell Grissom some more of my most intimate secrets,” Sara said, turning to pick up her case. Catherine’s hand on her arm stopped her. “You’re not mad about that, are you?” she asked with concerned eyes. “It’s not that,” Sara answered. “I mean, I don’t exactly want my inner struggles broadcast in the workplace.” “Sara, that wasn’t my intention…” “What exactly are your intentions?” Sara said, growing angry. “You’re more than happy to fuck me in the locker room at work, but you don’t want anybody to know about it?” “Didn’t we just go through this?” Catherine shot back at her, hands finding her hips with ease. “Well let’s go through it again,” Sara shouted and then took a deep breath. “You know, I may act tough on the outside mostly because I don’t like people fucking with me,” she continued, feeling her breath catch in her throat and struggling to continue, “but on the inside I’m shattered just like you. And every time you look at me, every time you put your hands on me, I feel those pieces melting back together. I just don’t know if I have the strength to pick them up again if in a week you decide this isn’t something you want.” “For fuck’s sake, Sara,” Catherine said loudly, gripping the material under her hands tightly. “If that’s really the kind of person you think I am…if I’m that fucking shallow, then why in the world do you want to be involved with me in the first place?!?” “I don’t know,” Sara said quietly picking up her case and heading for the door. “You tell me,” she added looking back for a moment, before breaking through the door with heavy, uneven steps. “Sara,” Catherine called after her, immediately regretting the harshness exchanged between them. When she was positive Sara wouldn’t be coming back, she sighed heavily and didn’t leave the room until there was a dent the size of a small country in the unsuspecting locker in front of her. ******************** Sara cut through the yellow tape with her pocket knife and with a quick turn of the knob she was inside the crime scene for the second time that day. She went through the motions and ended up in the bedroom, but somehow she just wasn’t really there. She was detached from the whole thing. All she could think about was Catherine and the way she had acted only minutes earlier. Sara knew she was being unfair, that she was overreacting. Catherine had so much more to lose if things went wrong or didn’t work out. She was a mother and had her child to think about and take care of first and foremost. And Sara understood that and things between them were progressing every day. She knew Catherine was becoming attached to her, to whatever relationship they were starting to have. Even Grissom could see how much Catherine cared about her. So why couldn’t she just let it go? Why couldn’t she just let it be what it was going to be and stop making it more difficult than it needed to be? Fear. That was it, down to the bare bones of the matter. Take all the anger and uncertainty away and all Sara could see in herself was the fear. She had been hurt too many times, been saddled with pain at the hands of those closest to her almost every time she let herself go. She wanted some sort of guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. But in reality, there was little that would give that peace of mind. Catherine could have sworn up and down the bible that she would never hurt Sara and still she’d be skeptical. It wasn’t even about Catherine, really. Sara was just pushing away a potentially good thing because she was afraid of getting hurt. She found it hard to give herself up into the hands of someone else so completely, but at the same time she had unknowingly done that all the same. She was no longer in control and she hated it. Here she was staring at a pillow covered in blood and brain matter. A girl was dead because there was some sick bastard out there that couldn’t deal with the continuing pain of relationships. The world through his eyes must have seemed so dark and lonely. And Sara felt something inside of herself ease up, a smile creeping to her lips. She wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t that guy anymore. Everyone had noticed a change in her. She realized at that moment that they were changing each other, that she wasn’t the only one with walls and baggage. That maybe Catherine was just as scared as she was, but showed it in a different way. She decided right there to let things go as much as her mind and heart would allow her to. Maybe actions did speak louder than words and Sara was ready to shut up and find out. Suddenly it was all too quiet in that room. With her mind shutting down for the time being, there was a deafening silence surrounding her. Sara bent down and quickly pulled two separate samples from the carpet in case something were to go wrong again. She placed the two clear baggies into her kit and for good measure used her exacto knife to cut a piece of the rug out all the way down to the padding underneath. Pushing off her knees, Sara stood up and grabbed her kit eager to get back to the lab and apologize to Catherine. She scanned the room one last time to see if there was anything else they missed. As she turned around towards the door behind her, she came face to face with someone she knew shouldn’t have been there. She slowly placed her case on the floor and put her hands up in front of her, menacing eyes cutting into her own. Her attacker was breathing raggedly, leveling a twenty-two revolver with her face. She wasn’t really religious, but at that moment she prayed she’d make it out alive. Tired eyes darted to the bed behind her, a wide grin spreading across the man’s handsome face. He didn’t look like a killer, but they never do. “Calm down,” Sara found herself saying. “I’m not a cop. I work for the crime lab.” She received no reply except for the resounding cocking of the gun before her eyes. She flinched slightly, trying to decide if she should go for her own weapon or continue to give her verbal skills a second chance. Somehow she knew it wasn’t going to be over any time soon. The man in front of her was enjoying it too much; the fear spreading across her face that she couldn’t manage to stop. Sara never took her eyes away from the gun in her face as she reached for the one attached to her right side. Unfortunately, her attacker was too fast for her and she found herself slamming into the floor with the man falling on top of her with deliberate force. She felt it before she heard it, but soon the heat spreading across her chest registered in her mind as only one thing. The man on top of her backed off slightly, surprised by his own actions. Sara managed to raise to her elbows for a second to glimpse at the gaping hole in the right side of her chest which was sending blood all over her light green shirt. She felt the barrel of the gun being pressed against the side of her neck when the loud ringing of her cell phone sent panicked eyes looking into her own. She knew she was about to die either way so Sara wasted no time grabbing at her phone and flipping it open quickly. “Help me,” she yelled as loud as she could before the phone was knocked out of her hand roughly. She felt the world slipping away so slowly, but it was only seconds before she saw an arm raise back and come down on her so hard she was sure her eyes wouldn’t stay open much longer. And then it happened again. And again. And again. The last thing Sara remembered thinking was that she wouldn’t be able to explain to Catherine how sorry she was. “Sara?!” Grissom yelled into his cell phone. He felt the phone hit something hard through the loud thump that resounded in his ear. He heard her keep calling for help and there was nothing he could do. “Sara?!” he repeated, walking quickly out of the autopsy room and into the hallway, a startled Catherine hot on his trail. He didn’t have to strain to hear the four resounding thumps of what sounded like metal on flesh. “No. Dammit, no!” “What the hell is going on?” Catherine asked, worried and confused. Grissom braced a hand on the wall as panicked breathing made its way through the phone to his ear. And then it was gone. With a loud beep, the other end of the phone went dead. “Call Brass and tell him to get EMS and every police unit he can over to that crime scene now,” Grissom instructed the shocked woman before him. Catherine felt her knees threaten to give out when she heard his next words. “Sara’s down,” he added, shaking his head and taking off down the hallway. ******************** Catherine sat in the waiting room of the hospital, slumped over with her elbows on her knees and her head cradled in her hands. The fingernails digging into her scalp were the only things reminding her that she was still alive. They had been waiting for what seemed like days since Sara had been rushed into the ER, faintly hanging onto her last threads of life. Grissom continued pacing in front of her in an uneven rhythm. Back and forth and then further down the hallway, stretching his neck to try and catch a glimpse of someone, anyone who would be coming to tell them Sara would be okay. The clicking on the floor was starting to rival the thumping in Catherine’s head and chest and she couldn’t take it anymore. “Will you please stop that,” she said, looking up at Grissom with tired eyes. “Stop what?” he asked, oblivious to what he was doing. “That deafening clickity clacking of your perfectly shined shoes on the linoleum,” Catherine replied, dropping her gaze to his feet. “Sorry,” he answered with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t even know…” “No, I’m sorry,” she interrupted him, pushing to her feet and walking past him to glance down the hallway. “I just wish someone would…” “I know. Me too.” “What was she doing there alone?” “It wasn’t a big deal,” Grissom answered. “She was supposed to be in, out, and gone. No one could have foreseen this happening.” “I should’ve gone with her,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “I should have insisted.” “Catherine, stop it,” Grissom said taking hold of her arm. “It’s no one’s fault. Nothing you could have done would have saved her from this. I know you two have been spending a lot of time together…” “Jesus, Gil,” Catherine said shaking him off and taking a few steps past him. “We haven’t just been hanging out. We’ve been seeing each other,” she added with a sigh, looking up into momentarily confused eyes. “Seeing each other?” Grissom asked with narrow eyes. “You and Sara.” “Yeah you know, seeing each other. Sleeping together. Dating,” Catherine said clearing it up for him, or so she thought. “Those are three completely different things,” he replied with a crooked smile. “What? You’re not going to freak out and ask me what the hell I think I’m doing?” Catherine asked, suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure you’re old enough to make your own decisions, Catherine,” Grissom answered with soft eyes. “But as soon as Sara pulls through this, we’re all going to sit down and you’re going to get the ‘why romance in the workplace isn’t the brightest of ideas’ talk.” “Right,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and rocking on her heels. “So, which of the three is it?” he asked with a smile. “Huh?” “Seeing each other, dating, or sleeping together?” “All of the above.” “Sounds complicated.” “It always is with me,” Catherine said, running a hand through already messy hair. “Do you love her?” Grissom challenged her, feeling slightly protective of the young woman still in surgery. “Maybe,” Catherine answered after a few seconds of pondering. “I’m not sure. We’ve been trying to determine that. And then we got in that stupid argument today right before she ran into that crime scene head first with her eyes closed,” she said before adding quietly, “And now I may never know.” “Yes, you will,” Grissom said quickly, holding Catherine’s eyes and commanding them to believe him. “Promise?” she asked, sounding more like a scared little girl than the strong woman she had proven to be. Grissom stared at her for an endless moment trying to muster up enough courage to tell her the truth, when Catherine’s eyes suddenly shifted over his shoulder to the long hallway behind him. He turned and followed her eyes to doctor walking towards them covered in blood and sweat and stripping off his latex gloves just before reaching them. It certainly didn’t look good. Catherine took small steps forward until she had reached Grissom’s side, the ER doctor standing before them removing his face mask with a snap. “Mr. Grissom, I’m Doctor Evans,” he said offering a clean hand which Grissom accepted briefly. “Hello Doctor,” he replied and motioned to Catherine. “This is Catherine Willows. She’s also with the Crime Lab.” “I’m sorry to have to become acquainted with the two of you under such circumstances,” Dr. Evans said, playing with his dark goatee as he spoke. The lines around his eyes crinkled when his faced rose at his next sentence. “I’m afraid I’ve got semi-good news and not so good news for you this evening.” “Please just tell us how she is,” Catherine requested, closing her fists tightly in the pockets of her jacket. “Well, the bullet went almost all the way through. We removed it with little trouble. And it did miss every vital organ completely…the lungs by just centimeters,” Dr. Evans explained. “I’m afraid the bad news is that Miss Sidle seems to be in a coma. The blunt force trauma to the head wasn’t quite enough to kill her. And there’s no internal damage that we can see, which you should be grateful for. But we’re not sure when, or even if, she’ll wake up. I’m sorry.” “Thank you, Doctor,” Grissom said, wrapping an arm around Catherine’s shoulders for support. “When can we see her?” Catherine asked in a small voice. “As soon as she’s stabilized. Shouldn’t be too long,” Dr. Evans said and began to walk back towards the ER. “She’s a fighter,” he said turning back to them for a moment before he was gone. Catherine had to bring a hand up to her face, for fear that the tears she had been holding back since their conversation in the locker room were about to break free. Grissom felt a strong hand on his shoulder and turned to see who it was, letting his arm around Catherine fall to his side. He was greeted with Warrick’s concerned eyes. Catherine found herself standing in front of Nick, who was hiding underneath his baseball cap. “How is she?” Warrick asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She’s stable,” Grissom answered. “And she’s in a coma.” “A coma?” Nick asked, finally looking up into Grissom’s drawn face. “Jesus Christ,” he said, turning his back and clenching his fists. “Someone should have been there with her.” “And then what?” Grissom asked, challenging him as Nick turned around with anger spreading across his face. “There’d be two of you in that room instead of one.” “Grissom’s right, Nick,” Warrick said to his friend. “What are her chances?” he asked, turning back to Grissom. “We don’t know yet,” he answered, glancing back at Nick for a moment and relaxing when the young man did. “You guys sweep the scene?” Catherine asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Uh, yeah,” Nick answered. “We got her gun, her kit and the samples she took, and her phone. They were all just lying there in plain sight.” “Did you get everything back to the lab?” Grissom asked. “On our way there now,” Warrick answered. “Just wanted to stop by, ya know?” “Why didn’t he just kill her?” Nick asked, surprising them all. “I mean, he could have just shot her in the head and then we wouldn’t be here.” “Because she had nothing to do with his work,” Grissom answered thoughtfully. “Our guy isn’t really about murder or death or sex or any of that. He’s after revenge. He wants to hurt those that have hurt him. Sara was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Killing her would give him no pleasure. You two get back to the lab and get everything ready for us. Take whatever samples you have and get them to Greg ASAP.” “You got it,” Warrick said, lightly slapping Greg on the back and leading him to the lobby doors. “Come on,” Grissom said, motioning for Catherine to follow him. “Let’s go see what Sara can tell us.” “I don’t know if I can go in there, Gil,” Catherine said once they were standing outside of door to Sara’s hospital room. “It’s a lot different when the person on the other side of that door is someone you know…someone you care about.” “I know, Catherine,” he replied. “Believe it or not, I’m scared too. I’ve just got all of my manliness to hide behind,” he added with a small smile and proceeded to turn the knob quickly, allowing Catherine to enter the room first. She took small, uncertain steps into the hospital room that harbored such an important part of her life. It smelled like Lysol and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was deafening. Catherine glanced up at Sara’s form, lying motionless on the bed, crisp white sheets doing little to offset the young woman’s pale skin. She felt her heart starting to break and at that moment realized that she did love Sara and as soon as this was all over with that would be the first thing she would tell her. Grissom’s hand on her back did little to give her support as she stepped closer and was confronted with the mess that was before her eyes. The whole left side of Sara’s face was bruised and swollen, discolored with a short red gash that stretched from her cheekbone to her jaw line. Catherine couldn’t help but think that the place where she had just recently pressed her lips against would now be scarred, possibly forever. Lips that hours ago had played aggressively against her own were now wrapped around a breathing tube. Catherine took Sara’s strong hand in her own, wanting to scream when she felt how cold and limp it now was. She gritted her teeth and breathed through her nose feeling the wetness creeping into her eyes but refusing to let it beat her. With her free hand, she brushed dark damp hair off of Sara’s forehead and let her hand linger there for a moment. “She’s warm,” Catherine whispered as Grissom placed his hands on her strong shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “She’s a fighter, Catherine,” he replied, finding it equally hard to look at Sara’s battered body. “It’s going to take a lot more than this to beat her.” “We need to catch that bastard before he hurts anyone else.” “We will.” ******************** “So, what do we have so far?” Grissom asked his team two days later as they all sat around a large table at the lab and compared their leads. Sara still hadn’t woken up and they had taken turns sitting with her when they weren’t following up on the evidence. They had yet to make any progress and they were all growing frustrated. “Let’s start with the victims.” “Three females, early twenties,” Nick said shuffling through the files. “Two blondes and a brunette. One girl from Nebraska . One from NYC. And the other was born and raised in Vegas.” “Ok, we know their differences. Now what are the similarities,” Grissom said. “Wait a sec,” Nick said studying the folders in front of him. “What is it?” Warrick asked, leaning over to look at the papers himself. “All three girls were students at the local Community College,” Nick answered, scanning the pages with his fingers. “And?” Grissom asked. Catherine leaned forward in her seat, waiting for Nick to say something prophetic. “And they all took the same English Lit class.” “At the same time?” Warrick asked. “Nah, first vic was enrolled two years ago. Second last year,” Nick said reading off the pages. “And newest vic was enrolled this semester.” “Anything else?” Grissom asked. “Yeah, the first two filed formal complaints against a guy named Professor Jacob Stillman,” Nick answered. “Alleging sexual misconduct.” “Let me guess. He teaches English Lit?” Catherine asked. “You got it,” Nick replied. “Let’s go,” Catherine said, getting ready to stand. “Wait,” Grissom warned. “Wait for what, Grissom,” Catherine shot at him. “I’m tired of waiting around for something else to happen while Sara’s lying in that hospital bed. Sounds to me like we’ve got our man.” “No, Catherine. We only know one piece of the story so far,” Grissom countered, willing her with his eyes to sit back down which she reluctantly did. “The place we find ourselves at the end may look nothing like where we were at the beginning.” “I’m tired of being stuck here when we should be moving forward, dammit,” she said, more to herself that anyone else. She knew she wasn’t talking about the case anymore and so did Grissom. “I understand Catherine,” he said. “Do you?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “Yes, I do,” he answered, his eyes pounding into hers with undeniable truth and an unspoken knowledge of the issue at hand. “But I also know you understand that we can’t do anything else until we’ve covered all the bases.” She knew he was right, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know it. So she leaned back in her chair like a teenaged brat and folded her arms across her chest, refusing to acknowledge him anymore. All she could see in her mind was Sara in that bed and all she wanted to do was find the bastard that did that to her and make him suffer. “Okay, let’s see what else we have first,” Grissom said once Catherine was sitting and quiet. “How about the carpet fibers?” “They don’t match the blue fibers from victim number three’s mouth,” Warrick said. “So what, he used something to cover her mouth? Keep her quiet?” Nick asked. “It’s a possibility. What about Sara’s cell phone?” “The saliva swab came back just female DNA,” Greg said, peeking his head in the doorway. “Sorry, I just want to help.” “Take a seat,” Grissom offered. “But there was also blood on it,” Greg continued, once he was sitting. “Some of it was Sara’s. The second sample I was able to contain was a perfect match to the DNA from the scrapings under the third vic’s fingernails.” “Prints?” Catherine asked. “No. He probably wears gloves,” Greg answered. “What about the cards?” Grissom asked. “Well, all we really know is that they’re all made by Hallmark and they were all signed with the same pen by the same person,” Catherine answered. “How do we know it was the same pen?” Grissom asked. “Get this,” Catherine replied. “It’s fountain ink and it has traces of lavender oil in it.” “The oil of love,” Grissom said with a smirk. “Can we trace where they were bought from?” “We haven’t been able to pin point an actual location,” Catherine said, “but I did contact the company and each card was in production only for a limited amount of time. The first card was only available two years ago for Valentine’s Day…” “The second a year ago. And the third, this year,” Grissom finished for her. “I think it’s time to pay Professor Stillman a visit.” ******************** “So, please finish up Donne and Browning for next time,” Professor Jacob Stillman ordered his class as the bell rang. The students filed out in a flock, narrowly missing the two CSIs that were on their way up to the front of the room, approaching the middle-aged teacher. Jacob Stillman had short, graying hair and a salt and pepper goatee that was neatly trimmed. He was tall and thin and dressed casually in khaki pants and a blue oxford shirt. He looked up through thin wire rimmed glasses as Grissom and Catherine approached him. “Professor Stillman,” Grissom said, flashing his badge, as she reached the edge of the desk. “Yes,” he answered looking from Grissom to Catherine as he closed his briefcase. “What can I do for you?” “We need to ask you some questions about some of your former students. Do the names Kathy Spencer and Angela Downs mean anything to you?” Grissom asked. “Not particularly.” “That’s funny because both of them filed complaints against you with the Dean,” Catherine said, crossing her arms. “That’s confidential information,” Stillman said defensively. “Well, we’re investigating three murders so now it’s our information,” Catherine replied loudly. “Care to explain,” Grissom said calmly. “I dated them,” Stillman admitted reluctantly. “Kathy maybe four or five semesters ago. Angela last year.” “Should you be dating your students, Professor Stillman?” Grissom asked. “Listen, I’m not married,” he answered. “When it didn’t work out and they wanted to get back at me, they filed those complaints.” “What about Emily Benton?” Catherine asked, referring to the latest victim. “She hasn’t been returning my phone calls,” Stillman answered. “And she hasn’t been in class for weeks,” he added slinging his jacket over his shoulders and stuffing his arms in one at a time. “That’s because she’s dead,” Grissom said, noticing the knuckles on Stillman’s hand were bruised and recently cut. “What happened to your hand?” “What?” he answered, looking down and quickly pulling his jacket over the wound. “Oh, I got it caught in the front door to my apartment last week. I’m sorry to hear about Emily. I had no idea.” “I see,” Grissom said. “We’d like to ask for a sample of your blood and a sample of your handwriting if that’s okay.” “What for?” “So we can rule you out as a suspect,” Grissom replied. “Do you have a warrant?” Stillman asked, gathering his things. “We can get one,” Catherine answered. “But if you volunteer, we may be able to keep this relatively quiet. If you provide a sample willingly, that is.” “Also, we’ve already got a warrant for your apartment,” Grissom added with a smile, knowing by the look on Stillman’s face that he was getting ready to roll up his sleeves. “What do you guys have so far?” Grissom asked, walking into Jacob Stillman’s rather large and well furnished apartment. “A whole lot of nothing,” Warrick answered, emerging from the kitchen. “Speak for yourself,” Nick said, coming out of the bedroom holding up a plastic bag containing a twenty-two revolver. “Care to explain that to us, Professor,” Grissom inquired of the man now being pushed into the room, Catherine stepping in behind him. “It’s not mine,” he pleaded. “And I bet this isn’t yours either,” Catherine said pulling a brown suede jacket out from under the couch. The right sleeve of it was covered in dried blood. “Actually, no,” Stillman said honestly. “It’s Eric’s.” “Eric who?” Grissom asked. “Eric Anderson, my roommate,” Stillman answered. “Yeah right,” Nick said. “If you have a roommate, where’s he sleep ? There’s only one bed.” They were answered with silence and Jacob Stillman turning a pale shade of green. “Mr. Stillman, you might want to explain this to us before you’re arrested for murder,” Grissom offered. “I have my career to think about,” Stillman replied, running a hand through his hair. “Eric is my teaching assistant. The administrators at the college don’t know I’m gay.” “So Eric is your lover?” Grissom asked. “Yes.” “Then why were you dating your female students?” Catherine asked. “Appearance seems to be more important that anything else these days, now doesn’t it?” Stillman replied, flashing his eyes at Catherine and causing her to furrow her brow in frustration. “Did Eric know you were dating these women?” Grissom asked. “Yes. He didn’t like it, but I made sure to call him whenever I was with them to assure him that nothing was going on.” “Where can we find Eric, Professor?” Grissom asked quickly. “What? You don’t think he could…he’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do that.” “Where?” Catherine demanded. “He usually corrects papers at the coffee shop near campus,” Stillman answered. “Warrick, bag this,” Catherine said, handing him the jacket. “Keep the good Professor here until we call you,” she added and followed Grissom out the door. ******************** “That was Greg,” Catherine said, clicking off her phone. “Stillman’s DNA and handwriting aren’t a match.” “Gee, I think I know why,” Grissom said sarcastically as they met up with Brass outside of the interrogation room downtown. “This guy’s calm as can be,” Brass said greeting them. “You two ready?” he asked before opening the room and letting them in before him. Eric Anderson was sitting at the table with his hands crossed in front of him. He was handsome with dark hair and dark eyes. He was tall and slightly muscular but still lean and his clothes were immaculate and crisply pressed. As he ran his right hand up the sleeve of his shirt, a large bandage flashed itself at Catherine and Grissom and made their eyes light up. “What happened to your hand?” Catherine asked the young man. “I smacked it on something that got in my way,” Eric answered with a disturbing grin. “That something that got in your way is going to wake up soon and then you’re screwed, pal,” Catherine said loudly, leaning on the table and getting in the young man’s face. Grissom pulled her back firmly. “And those scratches on your neck?” Grissom asked, pointing to the fresh wounds on the left side of the suspect’s neck, near the collarbone. “Cut myself shaving.” “We’ve got your jacket, Eric. It’s covered in Emily Benton’s blood,” Brass said. “And we’ve also found your gun,” Grissom added. “The striations match perfectly. There’s no doubt the bullets that killed those girls were fired from that gun.” “You still have to prove it’s my gun,” Eric said, his hands growing shaky. “Not a problem,” Catherine replied. “Jacob Stillman is more than willing to testify that he was with you when you purchased it.” “Jake wouldn’t do that.” “He already did,” Brass interjected. “You’ve been a TA for over three years now, Eric,” Grissom said. “Why is that?” “You know, I wrote my senior thesis on homosexual themes in Shakespeare’s writing,” Eric said with a detached look in his eyes. “The university I went to was small and they didn’t take to kindly to it. I met Jacob when I was in graduate school. He offered me a teaching gig and we moved in with each other two months later.” “And then he started dating women for appearance,” Grissom continued for him. “Those bitches had no idea who they were messing with,” Eric said calmly, his voice void of emotion like he had already lost everything that mattered. “But it wasn’t really about them, was it?” Grissom asked. “You were getting back at him. The cards, he called you from all his dates. You bought them for him, but he was never around for you to give them to him. He was the one making a fool out of you, not them. The fear in their eyes, you wanted them to know what you were about to do to them.” “I loved him, not them,” Eric answered, finally showing some kind of emotion. “But I wasn’t good enough. Well, they weren’t going to be with him either,” he added, slamming his left fist down on the table and flinching when his watch dug in to his skin. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt up and revealed a cheap watch with what looked to be nylon blue band that was frayed in some spots. “We’re going to need that watch for evidence,” Grissom said to Brass. “I think we’ve found our mysterious blue fibers.” Brass was about to say something when Catherine’s phone rang, interrupting them. She clicked it open with a flip and held it up to her ear. “Willows. Hey Nick. What? When? Yeah, we’ll be right there,” she said and hung up the phone. Then she turned back to the young man hanging his head near the table and said, “Our eye-witness is awake. And she just happens to be a good friend of mine. If I didn’t have to rush over to the hospital, you bet your ass I’d be dragging your sorry behind down to central booking myself.” “I didn’t mean to…” “Shut up,” Brass said, cutting him off. “Eric Anderson you’re under arrest for the murder of Emily Benton, the murder of Kathy Spencer, the murder of Angela Downs, and the attempted murder of Sara Sidle.” And with that, Catherine felt at least some form of calm. Grissom looked at the young man at the table with somewhat sympathetic eyes before following Catherine out into the hallway. “Poor kid,” Catherine said, surprising Grissom. “Hey, it’s not like I’m thrilled that he tried to kill my girlfriend or anything…” “You’re girlfriend?” Grissom asked, raising his eyebrows. “About that,” Catherine said, moving down the hallway. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself for the time being.” “As you wish. So have you figured out the answer to the million dollar question yet?” Grissom asked, falling into step with her. “I have,” Catherine said nodding. “I told you you would,” Grissom said with a smile. ******************** “She say anything yet?” Catherine asked when they finally arrived at the hospital. “Mostly she wants to go home,” Warrick replied. “And she’s a little less than nice to the nurses at the moment,” Nick added with a smile. “Same old Sara.” “She has been asking for you,” Warrick said, leveling his eyes at Catherine. Grissom slid a small smirk her way before speaking. “Better get going then.” “Yeah, okay,” Catherine said hesitantly. She walked over to the door to Sara’s room and took a deep breath. Suddenly she was nervous. When she heard the crashing of what must have been a metal food tray, she walked into the room quickly. “Whoa, what the hell is going on in here?” she asked, walking past a stunned nurse who quickly exited the room and closed the door behind her. “It’s about time you fucking got here,” Sara said with as big a smile that she could muster with the pain still shooting up the left side of her face. The bruises were fading and the swelling was down, but she still wasn’t a hundred percent. “I heard you were being mean to the nice ladies that were trying to help you so I figured I should try and save them from your wrath,” Catherine said, lingering near the door. “You can come closer, Catherine,” Sara said daring to reach out her hand. “I won’t bite unless you ask me.” Catherine walked to Sara slowly, each step deliberate and heavy. And with every step, she felt the fear and uncertainty leave her in little bits. Seeing Sara awake and still obviously wanting her made the rest of the world seem small somehow. When she finally reached out and took Sara’s hand it was warm and strong and her long fingers gripped at Catherine’s firmly. “I was scared,” Catherine admitted, tears brimming in her eyes. “So was I,” Sara replied, dark eyes looking up into Catherine’s soft face. “Not about dying though as much as not being able to say I’m sorry to you.” “I’m the one who’s sorry,” Catherine replied quickly, moving closer to Sara with every word. “The other day, when I walked in here, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Knowing that I might lose you, it felt like someone was sucking the life out of me.” “Catherine, listen you don’t have to…” Sara began, squeezing her hand lightly for emphasis. “Yeah I do,” the older woman replied. “I love you and I’m scared and I don’t want to mess things up,” Catherine said quickly. “Wait a second. Back it up,” Sara said, a smile playing on her lips. “Slower this time. I am recovering from a head injury here.” “Does it hurt?” Catherine asked, reaching up to trace the outline of the cut on Sara’s face gently. “Not so much right now,” Sara replied, catching Catherine’s hand and bringing it down to her lips. She only tugged slightly, not even realizing it, and Catherine’s lips were on her own. It was a gentle kiss, but one that held all the promise for a series of brighter days. Pulling back, Catherine’s lips lingered over Sara’s as she stared into the younger woman’s deep eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered. “In fact, judging by the scrapes on my knees I’d say I’m already there.” “Good,” Sara answered with a wide smile. “I don’t want to be the only one on the ground.” “You’re in an awfully good mood for someone who’s just been shot and in a coma for over four days.” “It’s the morphine,” Sara responded. “I think they’ve pumped enough in me to put a small country to sleep.” “Then you should get some rest,” Catherine told her in a motherly tone. “Yes, Mom,” Sara said, letting a yawn escape before replacing it with a smile. “And now that that’s settled young lady, before you drift off for good I think you should eat your jello,” Catherine pleaded with a grin of her own after planting a kiss on Sara’s forehead. “No way. Do you know what that stuff’s made of?” Sara protested. Catherine’s pager went off with a loud beep and she reluctantly checked it and clicked it off. “That’s my sister,” she said turning to Sara with apologetic eyes. “Lindsey must be up.” “Go,” Sara said waving her hand at Catherine. “Be the best Mom in the world and kiss that little munchkin for me.” “You’re too good to me,” Catherine said, kissing Sara once more before backing away. “They’re letting me out tomorrow,” Sara said with a smile. “And then I’ll show you just how good I can be,” she added with the raising of the eyebrow on the good side of her face. “Need a ride?” Catherine said finally reaching the door. “Oh, I’m counting on one.” ******************** “Where is everyone?” Sara asked groggily after waking up from a short nap. Her eyes opened slowly as she pushed to a better sitting position and regarded the man sitting in the chair next to the bed. “Hopefully at home sleeping,” Grissom answered her with a smile. “So why are you still here?” Sara asked, reaching out for his hand. “One door never closes without opening another,” he answered, accepting her strong hand in his own. “Just because we’ve closed the book on one case doesn’t mean another isn’t waiting to spring up in its place.” “You gave everyone else the night off, didn’t you?” “Not everyone,” he answered. “Greg promised he’d have some of that hundred dollar coffee waiting for me when I got back. As soon as you’re feeling better, Brass wants you to head down to the station to file a report.” “Sure,” Sara replied. “And you’re going to have to ID the guy,” Grissom added. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to go for a full confession, but it doesn’t hurt to have all our ducks in a row. You did get a good look, didn’t you?” “As long as I live I will never forget those eyes, Grissom,” she answered, feeling a shiver trail down her spine. “They were so empty, but at the same time they were full of pain and hurt and loneliness. And the more scared I could feel myself getting, the more they began to light up. If you hadn’t called, I don’t think I’d be here right now,” she added, squeezing his hand for emphasis. “How are you feeling?” “Like I’ve been in a coma for five days,” she replied, laughing. “Really, I’m pretty sore and there’s a hole in my chest, but I’m still here.” “Thank goodness for that,” Grissom said, smiling. “So, we’ve got this guy, right? I mean, if he gets a good lawyer…” “He’d have to hire Harry Houdini to get out of this one, Sara,” Grissom reassured her. “Besides, the most important person in the world to this guy just gave him up without thinking twice. I think he’s lost everything he thought he was living for…or killing for.” “It’s kind of sad, to be that hopeless. To be that lonely.” “But you’re not alone, Sara.” “State your source,” Sara challenged him with a strange look on her face. “Catherine.” “She told you,” Sara said, more of a statement than a question. “Yes, but I wish you had,” Grissom replied, feeling a little hurt. “I support you, no matter what. I just don’t want this to interfere with your work.” “It won’t.” “Catherine said you two had an argument before you headed back to the scene the other day,” Grissom said, concerned. “Maybe…” “No,” Sara interrupted. “That had nothing to do with what happened. I was careful. I turned around and he was just there. I wasn’t in there more than a couple minutes.” “Next time you take someone with you.” “Grissom…” “Give an old man a break, will you?” he said, joking before turning a little more serious. “Save me the worry.” “You worry about me?” “I know I may have the look down, but I’m not made of stone, Sara,” he replied. “Just because I choose not to show it so often, doesn’t mean I don’t care.” “Thank you,” she said, sincerely. “So you two are happy?” he asked, shifting the conversation back. “Getting there,” Sara answered, with a small smile. “Good,” Grissom said, standing up and letting Sara’s hand slide out of his own. “What? That’s it? No lecture?” “I’m saving that for when you’re healed up a bit,” he answered, shuffling towards the door. “Then I won’t have to hold back. You, Catherine and I are going to have a nice long talk when you’re back from your vacation.” “Vacation?” Sara asked. “No way, Grissom. I don’t want a vacation. I won’t know what to do with myself.” “Get a hobby,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “You’re out for at least two weeks.” “Two weeks?!?” “That’s a direct order, Sara. I’m even going to get Catherine to confiscate your police scanner.” “Ganging up on me? Now that really isn’t fair.” “Call it what you want,” he called back to her with a grin. “Oh, and Catherine also wanted me to remind you to eat your jello,” he added and slipped out of the room, the door closing with a soft click. Sara smiled and sighed, starting to feel drowsy again. Her strength was something she would have to build up again. And she knew that meant plenty of rest…and the inevitably smelly and not-so-mouth-watering green hospital jello. She closed her eyes, reached over and shoved her spork into the wobbly concoction, silently willing herself to remember that Catherine would be owing her big time for this. ******************** “Where are your keys?” Catherine asked Sara as they stood outside of her apartment door. Sara had an arm draped over Catherine’s shoulders and Catherine was holding on firmly to Sara’s waist with one hand and carrying a bag full of her stuff in the other. “I thought I gave them to you,” Sara answered, glancing down at Catherine with slightly glassy eyes. “Definitely didn’t give them to me. And what exactly are you on right now?” Catherine asked with a smile. “They gave me a couple Perkaset before they released me,” Sara answered. “I’ve got a couple more in my pocket,” she said using her free hand to search her jeans, “right next to the keys to my apartment,” she added, dangling them in front of Catherine and smiling. “You are such a pain in the ass,” Catherine replied, dropping the bag and grabbing the keys. “Yeah well, I’m kind of enjoying this whole standing here with my arm around you thing.” “Well the sooner we get inside, the sooner I hope to have a lot more than just your arm around me,” Catherine said, finally popping the lock open and tightening her grip on Sara as she led her inside the apartment. “Home sweet home,” Sara said walking inside and wandering into the living room without Catherine’s assistance. “Hey, you’re walking just fine,” Catherine observed, after closing and locking the door and dropping Sara’s bag near the entrance. “Will you look at that,” Sara replied sarcastically. “It’s a miracle.” “Sit down and I’ll get you something to eat,” Catherine said rolling her eyes and attempting to move past Sara and into the kitchen. “I’m not hungry,” Sara replied in a husky tone grabbing Catherine around the waist from behind and pulling her close. Catherine’s hands found her own quickly and she leaned back into the embrace. “You’re not in your right mind at the moment,” she replied, stroking the hands at her waist softly. “I’m not sure you know what you want.” “Suddenly I’m very, very sober,” Sara answered, turning Catherine around to look at her. “You need to rest,” Catherine warned in a quiet voice, glancing up at the yellowish discoloring spreading out under the newly closed gash on the left side of Sara’s face. “I’ve been asleep for the better part of five days now,” Sara said, placing her hands on either side of Catherine’s face, holding her steadily. “There’s something else that I need right now.” “But what about…” Catherine’s voice trailed off as she reached up to place a hand gently on Sara’s sweatshirt where she could feel the outline of a bandage underneath. “Just go slow,” Sara replied just as quietly. “It’s healing,” she added with soft eyes, the double entendre not lost on either of them, before leaning down to kiss Catherine, slowly and surely. She pulled back just as slowly and took Catherine’s hand, leading her down the hallway to the bedroom without saying a word. Once in the bedroom, Sara turned to face Catherine and dropped her hand. Without raising her right arm, she managed to shed herself of the sweatshirt with minimal flinching. The white tank top she was wearing underneath was bunched up around the waist of her jeans and when her hands finally found their way there, Catherine stepped forward to cover them with her own. “Sara listen, we don’t have to..” Catherine was beginning to say when a long finger came to rest against her lips silencing her. Catherine instinctively dropped her jacket to the floor with a shrug, the heat from Sara’s body so close she could hardly stand it. This time she took Sara’s hand and led her over to the bed and gently pushed her down on it. She stood there for a moment taking in Sara’s still slightly battered form and wanting nothing more than to show her how much in love with her she actually was. When she didn’t think her legs would hold her anymore, Catherine climbed on top of Sara and pressed her lips against the dark haired woman’s with urgency and a need to prove a connection that was real and unrelenting. Sara muttered a low whimper when Catherine’s lips left her own. Thinking that she had somehow hurt the woman lying underneath her, Catherine raised up on her arms and was about to climb off of Sara when she felt strong deliberate hands tugging the hem of her shirt. Staring up into Catherine’s eyes with desire and heat in her own, Sara released the shirt from its confines and in one quick motion had Catherine’s pants unbuttoned…her hands gliding against the silky barrier underneath. Her eyes never left Catherine’s as she slid a hand under the soft material and started moving in an even rhythm. “I thought you wanted to go slow,” Catherine said with a serious face, her breath hitching as Sara increased the speed and intensity of the hand resting between her legs. “This is only the beginning,” Sara answered, using all the strength she had left to roll Catherine over and reverse their positions. Catherine traced the outline of the part of the bandage that was visible outside of Sara’s shirt and raised up to plant small kisses on the deep healing cut on the left side of the young woman’s face. When Sara’s hand increased its pumping motion once again, Catherine reached down and caught her wrist tightly, stopping her. Of all the times they had glided against each other, skin on skin, eager mouths seeking out their destinations with a heated deliberateness…bringing each other to a quick release and back again…something about this time was different. There was a definition of love in the air, a need to connect deeper than just with skin and sweat and rushed emotions. “What is it?” Sara asked, searching Catherine’s face for an answer. “Sara, I need…I want…” Catherine tried, but was at a loss for words. “What? Whatever it is, it’s okay,” Sara answered, kissing Catherine deeply once again, her tongue searching out the other woman’s smoothly. Once their mouths separated, Catherine tugged at the bottom of Sara’s tank top and slowly pulled it over her head and dropped it on the bed next to them. Glancing up over firm, naked breasts Catherine’s eyes focused on the white gauze that covered the better part of Sara’s chest. Sara pursed her lips and kept her eyes focused on Catherine’s face as the other woman slowly pulled back the tape at the edge of the bandage. She saw the blonde woman faulter as the dark red wound was exposed, purple bruising evident around it. Sara slid her right hand over Catherine’s clothed body until it reached the back of her neck and pulled her into a gentle embrace, falling to her side as she did so. Catherine traced a line around the bullet wound just above the skin as tears fell from her eyes. “It’s so small,” she breathed against Sara’s neck. “I know,” Sara replied, her lips finding Catherine’s forehead with ease. “I don’t want us to fight again,” Catherine said, replacing the bandage and curling her arm around Sara’s naked torso. “I don’t particularly like it either,” Sara replied, settling down against the pillows, allowing Catherine to shift in her arms. “But there’s something to be said about the making up, isn’t there?” she added with a smile. “I’ll say,” Catherine answered, snuggling further into Sara’s embrace. They were silent for what seemed like forever, Catherine tracing lazy circles on Sara’s bare torso with her eyes closed. “Catherine?” “Hmm?” “I think maybe I am a little hungry,” Sara said with a grin Catherine couldn’t see. “Yeah?” Catherine replied, looking up into Sara’s glowing face. “What are you in the mood for?” she asked innocently, being caught by surprise when strong arms lifted her up so she was lying flat on top of the injured woman sprawled out beneath her. Sara wasted no time in removing Catherine’s clothes from shirt to socks and everything underneath and in between. When she was through disrobing the blonde woman, she pushed her on her back gently and hovered above her, a smirk on her face and a sparkle in her dark eyes. Sara slid her tongue in between ample breasts and as she pushed further down to Catherine’s abdomen, she glanced up to catch dark blue eyes with her own. “I think this’ll do,” she finally replied with a wide grin, eliciting a low soft laugh from the woman underneath her skilled hands. As Sara glided further down her body, Catherine closed her eyes and rested her head back on the soft pillow beneath it. And for the next few hours, she could feel the world sliding back into place, her heart fusing back into one piece with every touch of Sara’s hands on her body. And for the first time in a long time she knew that no matter how hard the rain fell, she had shelter. END. III. Flames of the Past