Title: Appearances Author: Amy aka Lady Julieanne Pairing: C/S, as if I could write any other Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: I don't own them and I never will. Feedback: By now you should know that feedback is required. The muse that lives in my head threatens to stop writing without it. I just can't figure out if that's a good or a bad thing. Distribution/Archive: Just ask. Summary: A string of strange murders causes the whole night shift to pull extra shifts to try to catch the killer. A/N: And the plot thickens.... ******************************************************* Sara was right. She was the last of her shift to leave. She was slightly disappointed that Catherine had left without saying goodbye, but she figured that Catherine wanted to get home as much as she did. She made a mental note to call Catherine sometime that day and see how she was doing. Sara left the CSI building and found a note stuck under her windshield. ‘Call my mobile when you get home. Cat’ Sara drove home wondering what it was that Catherine wanted. When she got home she decided to wait and call Catherine after she ate and showered. She dialed the numbers hoping that Catherine wasn’t sleeping yet. The phone barely rang once before she heard Catherine pick it up and say, “Hey, sexy about time you called.” “Sexy? You know, I kinda like it when you call me that. Boosts my ego.” Sara said with a big grin. “And I’ve only been home long enough to eat and shower, so don’t get your panties in a twist.” “Who said I was wearing panties?” Was Catherine’s only reply. “Oh fuck,” Sara whispered into the phone. She couldn’t tell if Catherine was just playing with her or if she was being serious, but it didn’t really matter anyway. As soon as Catherine said the words, Sara mind was immediately filled with images that made her whole body burn. She can hear Catherine giggling on the other end of the phone. “What you think that was funny?” “It was meant to be. It seems to have had a different effect though. Not that I’m complaining about that either, it just makes me wish I was there instead of here.” Catherine’s voice had lowered and Sara could tell now that she was not joking. “Then why aren’t you here?” Sara asked. She did miss Catherine. Someday she was going to have to sit down and figure out how Catherine became such a big part of her life in such a little amount of time. In mere days Catherine went from not friend to lover. “Oh, I wish I could be. But I promised Lindsey we’d spend the day together. Besides, you’ve got to work tonight and if I were to come over, you wouldn’t get any sleep.” “Jesus.” Sara was now pretty certain she wouldn’t be sleeping anyway. Or, if she did sleep, the dreams would be vivid and all too real and she would just wake up needing Catherine more than she already did. “Cat? Why did you want me to call?” Sara’s voice was getting strained. The thoughts running rampant through her head were not helping her concentrate and the sooner she got off the phone, the better. “Just wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t see you much at work, and I didn’t get a chance to say goodnight. I just miss you and was hoping to talk to you before Lindsey came home from Nancy’s.” Catherine was speaking softly. Sara could hear the real emotions behind the words. She was elated that Catherine just wanted to hear her voice. She misses me, Sara thought to herself. The change of subject helped Sara regain control. “You know, you could really spoil a girl saying things like that. She might start to think you’re a romantic or something,” Sara kids with Catherine, attempting to get her thoughts to return to safe ground. “Who says I’m not a romantic? I could be, you never know.” Catherine is kidding as well, but Sara notices the tone in her voice also shows a slight irritation. “Okay, so you’re a romantic. I like romantics,” Sara said trying to step away from the topic. “So listen, I’ve got to go. I mean, I need to get some sleep and get some other things done before work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow okay?” “Alright. Sleep well,” Catherine sounded sleepy as well. She was tempted to say something more, maybe tell Sara she loved her, but she thought maybe that might be a bit much. It wasn’t at all like Catherine to want to talk with someone just to hear their voice. But she felt distinctly lonely this morning after having spent the past two mornings with Sara. Many hours later Sara was getting ready for work and her thoughts had safely returned to the case she was working. She needed to get a minute with Grissom when she went in tonight. She wanted to explain to him what it was about this case that made her uneasy. She made sure to get to work a little bit earlier than usual, and she grabbed a cup of coffee and headed off to her office. There she found Doc Robbins’ report on top of the field interview reports that she had read yesterday. As she expected, Doc was right on with his prelims. Doc was almost always right when Sara asked him for a preliminary heads-up on cause of death. His report didn’t reveal anything new. Sara reread the FI’s to brush up her memory and unfortunately the information hadn’t magically changed overnight and she was still uneasy about what she read. Sara knew that Grissom was also habitually early for work and she headed into his office to see if she could talk with him. She found him feeding the many insects and bugs that lived in his office. “Gris? Got a sec?” She inquired after it appeared he hadn’t noticed her arrival. “Sure Sara. What do you need?” Grissom was still busily feeding his ‘pets.’ “Just thought I’d talk about that case you handed Warrick and I yesterday. I don’t like it. Something is off.” Sara took a seat at his desk even though he gave no indication for her to sit, or that he was going to sit himself. “What is off?” “Well besides the odd position the body was found in, I think someone out there is playing games with us.” “Tell me about the body.” Grissom was close to his desk now, and Sara thought he might actually be close to finished with his bugs. “Well she was found with her arms and legs tied together behind her back with the rope extending to her neck and tied off like a noose. Unusual. Doc reports states the C.O.D. was asphyxiation by way of strangulation. Which makes sense because of the noose. But he also details that he thinks she essentially killed herself. Ruled it murder, but she basically strangled herself in an attempt to get out of the ropes she was tied in. Every inch she moved pulled the ropes tighter and tighter.” “You’ve got pictures of her body at the hotel? When you get them, I’d like to see them.” “Good,” Sara knew that if Grissom got involved, not only would their chances of closing this case soon increase, but that meant he was taking her uneasiness seriously. “What else is it that’s bothering you?” “Well, for starters, the evidence is scant. There were no were no fingerprints at the scene. The room was tossed like a burglar hit, but no prints. Not a single one. None from the victim, not even anything from housekeeping. This guy was careful. Not careful enough, but careful. We got epithelials and fibers, but he went over every inch of that room to clean up prints.” “Well if he left other evidence behind then we still have a means to catch him. Fingerprints aren’t everything Sara.” “I know that Grissom. And I also know that we will catch him. But come on, how many times have you worked a scene in a hotel? And how many of those times has the room been clean of prints?” Sara was pretty sure she knew the answer to this one. The only time she could remember Grissom not lifting a print in a hotel room was the Milander case. She watched as Grissom’s face changed from passive supervisor interest to an inquisitive interest. She knew she had him hooked on helping her figure this one out. “What else?” “Warrick did the field interviews. Nothing of any interest came up until he spoke with the hotel staff. The desk clerk says the gentlemen who booked the room, room 213 by the way, was a Jeff D. Ahmer. Want me to spell that for you?” Sara kidded when she saw Grissom’s brow furrow at the name. “You’re kidding right?” “No. And he even used a credit card from a Milwaukee bank. Clerk says he specially requested room 213. Wouldn’t take any other. I think this case is going to only get worse. I mean how many times do you think someone gets a room and registers as Jeffrey Dahmer? This guy’s playing a joke on us, and I don’t like it.” “Have you talked with Warrick about this?” Grissom asks, even though he knows the answer will be no. “Not yet. He was gone by the time I put it all together this morning, and I came in early to talk to you. I haven’t even seen him yet.” Sara admits. She knows that she should have talked with Warrick before turning to Grissom, but she really needed to discuss this with someone and Grissom was the only night shift CSI around. “Where are the other reports? I think the three of us need to sit down and talk about this one.” “I’ve got Doc’s report, and Warricks FI’s. DNA and toxicology aren’t back yet. I haven’t had a chance to do the fiber analysis yet, and we managed to get Nick to help us on the rope. He might have something, but I haven’t seen him yet.” “Go to Greg and get what he has available for you, grab the reports off of your desk and tell Warrick to do the same. Meet me in conference one in about twenty minutes.” Grissom said as he started to head out the door. Sara headed back into her office and nearly ran over Greg, who was just coming out of her office. “Greg, just the man I needed to see,” Sara said with a smile. “I need any reports you’ve got on the lady from the hotel room. DNA, toxicology, hopefully a hit from AFIS, all of it.” “No problem. Give me about five minutes,” Greg said as he started to walk away. “Oh, and Greg?” “Yeah?” “If you weren’t dropping off those reports, then what were you doing in my office?” Sara looks and Greg and notices that he has blushed slightly. “Um. Delivery.” “Delivery? Greg what are you talking about?” Sara asks as she turns away from him and heads into her office. There on her desk was bouquet of flowers. Six red and six yellow roses, tastefully arranged in a crystal vase. They were beautiful. Sara blushed immediately. Sara knew that the flowers were from Catherine, but she was not willing to share that with Greg. “Well, I came in and there was a delivery guy standing at the front desk and he was trying to find you. I told him I’d sign and then I brought those in here. Who are they from?” Greg was hovering just outside Sara’s office door. Sara grabbed the card from the flowers and walked over to the door, which she promptly shut in Greg’s face. ‘I am a romantic –C’ This was new to her. No one had sent her flowers to work before. She got the occasional bouquet at home, but no one had ever bothered to send them to work. Sara was worried about what Greg would say to everyone else, but nothing could get the grin off of her face. ******************************************************* Personal note: I find lately that some big loser in the comsos is screwing with my life. Just when I had everything going perfect. So I work for two divorce attorneys and in less than three months I will be forever commiting my mind body and soul to another. I am ecstaticly happy to be doing this. But in my line of work I find it difficult to share my happiness, people just stare at me like I've got lobsters coming out of my ears. "Why in the hell would you want to do that?" Is the most common question I face these days. (The second most common thing I hear being "Never trust a woman", to which I just have to smile and laugh, because I am a woman, and to see me or hear my voice would only make that more obvious.) How do you explain to bitter divorcees that you're a hopeless romantic and completely in love? On top of all these people having a good laugh at my expense, so many people are getting divorced in my county right now that I barely have time for my writing. I realize this probably isn't what my boss hired me to do, but since I have the time, I figure I'll do it anyway. Now that I've awakened the inner author, and she won't shut up, I barely have time to write anything. Someone out there is having a big laugh at my expense and I've got to admit, I'd like to be let in on the joke. That way I can laugh too. Sorry for the divergance...really needed to get that off my chest somewhere and this felt like a safe place...'cause you guys have already read the story and don't need to read any of the rest of my rantings.