Disclaimer: I do not own CSI
This story takes place just after season 4 (before the show started getting just plain weird. Did anyone watch King Baby? Ugh!). Reviews will be greatly appreciated!
Music pounded out of the large speakers as university students partied the night away on the dance floor. This was where the intense, pressured young adults could let themselves go. It was an unusually warm spring, and most of the students had recently finished their final exams. It was going to be a wild night.
A skinny brunette stood off to one side, sipping a drink and looking slightly nervous. She spied a man standing in a similar posture. She smiled to herself and walked over to him.
That was the moment it all started. They would remember that night for the rest of their lives. Every time they felt lost and alone, they would think back to the spring of '91.
Sara Sidle swallowed hard as she walked up to the peaceful, suburban house. Appearances can be so deceiving, she thought to herself. The events that had taken place in that house were anything but peaceful.
Sara's boss, Gil Grissom, was kneeling in front of the door, dusting the knob for fingerprints. He was so focused on his work that he didn't even notice when she walked up beside him.
"Uh, hey," Sara said, bending down so that her face was close to his. He looked up, startled.
"Oh, hi Sara," he said, looking up at her. Sara realized how close her face was to his, and there was a tense moment, as they looked one another in the eye. Sara broke their eye contact quickly, straightening up as she cleared her throat.
"So…are the bodies inside?" she enquired.
"Husband and wife, both shot to death. Brass is interviewing the daughter," Grissom said, getting up off his knees. He pointed to a thin, brown-haired teenager sitting in the ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face was bruised and swollen.
"What happened to her?" Sara asked.
"After the guy shot her parents, he raped her," Grissom said, " After she gives Brass a statement, I need you to go with her to the hospital and get an SART kit. Catherine and Nick will be here in a while to help me out." Sara nodded, and proceeded over to the ambulance. Grissom watched her go.
"Hey," said the girl, sliding up beside him. The man turned to face the brunette. He was quite a bit older than her, but his face looked shy and innocent. "You've probably never seen me before," the young woman said, "but I was at one of your forensic science lectures a few months ago. You look pretty young for someone with so many qualifications." There was intelligence in the girl's eyes, a burning brightness that the man was attracted to.
"I'm 31," he said.
"And what exactly are you doing at a college party?" she asked him.
"My friend dragged me over here," the man answered, "he says I need more of a social life."
"What a coincidence," the girl said, smiling.
Brass was finishing up with the witness as Sara arrived.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" he asked the girl.
"That's all," she answered. Although her voice was shaky, there was determination in her bright eyes.
"Thank you," said Brass, finishing up his notes and proceeding towards Grissom. Sara stepped forward.
"Hi," she said to the witness, "My name's Sara Sidle and I'm a forensic scientist with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." The girl nodded.
"My name's Amy…Amy Bolton," she said, pushing her hair behind her ears. Sara fought hard to keep from wincing as she noticed the bruises on Amy's shoulders.
"I'm going to have to take you to the hospital," Sara told her, "we need to run some tests." She hated the sound of that. It was as if the girl wasn't a living thing at all, just meaningless evidence. Sara knew she couldn't let this case affect her personally, but the girl looked so young and bright it was hard not to.
"I'm not much of a party person," the man was saying, " I'd much rather be with my bugs." The affects of the alcohol had loosened his tongue.
"Your bugs?" the brunette asked incredulously.
"I'm an entomologist," he explained, "I study them." She smiled and inched towards him.
"I've always been interested in bugs. Why don't you take me to see yours?" It sounded like such an innocent suggestion. What neither of them could know was that it would change them for the rest of their lives.
Sara slowly proceeded through the hospital corridor, carrying the SART kit in one hand. She yawned, her tired eyes fighting to stay open. Lately, she'd been having dreams that haunted her and kept her from sleep.
She walked around a corner towards the hospital parking lot and saw Grissom, standing by the doors. She approached him.
"Hey," she said, "What are you doing here?"
"Giving you a ride home," he answered, "It was on my way. Oh, and don't worry about the kit, I'll take it to Greg." Sara smiled slightly as she handed it to him.
"Thanks," she said, surprised by his kindness. He led her out into the parking lot and to his car.
Grissom drove without speaking for the first few minutes. Finally, Sara broke the silence with a startling question.
"Grissom…why did you hire me?" she asked, looking up at him, "I mean, there were so many talented applicants you could have chosen from. Why me?" Grissom looked taken aback by this question, but he recovered quickly.
"You're a very talented scientist, Sara," he told her, "It was only logical to place you at one of the top labs in the country."
"Oh," she said, sounding almost disappointed. It was clearly not the answer she had been hoping for. There was another long silence.
"I've been doing some thinking," Sara said slowly, "and, well…I was wondering if you had any other reasons for hiring me. I was wondering if-" she took a deep breath, "I was wondering if our…history had anything to do with it." He turned and looked sharply at her.
"I thought we'd agreed not to discuss this," Grissom said tersely. He pulled into the parking lot of Sara's apartment and stopped the car. She glanced down at her hands, and then looked up at him.
"Do you ever think about it?" she asked, trying to meet his eyes, "Do you ever wonder what could have been?" Grissom looked away.
"Every day," he whispered.
With one last despondent look in his direction, Sara left the car and walked towards the apartment. As soon as she was sure he couldn't see her, she burst into tears.
Sara awoke early the next morning, hearing her doorbell ring. She groaned as she got out of bed. She contemplated falling back asleep until the bell rang insistently once more.
"Coming!" she yelled as she pushed her feet into a pair of slippers and slid her housecoat on. She made her way towards the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open. Standing there, to her surprise, was Greg Sanders the DNA lab technician.
"Um…hey Greg," she said sleepily, "what are you doing here so early?"
"Well…look, I'm about to tell you something that's going to really freak you out, okay?" he said, nervously chewing on his lip.
"Uh…okay," said Sara, wondering what this was all about. Greg stepped inside and she closed the door behind him.
"Would you like to sit down?" she asked.
"That's okay," he answered shakily. He was obviously very worked up about something.
"So, uh, what were you going to tell me?" she enquired. Greg took a deep breath.
"I was testing the DNA samples from the Bolton case last night, and, uh, there were some interesting results." Sara nodded, so he continued. "I discovered that Amy's sample didn't match her parents' samples in any way. She must have been adopted. I checked CODIS to see if there were files on people who had a significant number of alleles in common with her." Greg paused.
"Yeah, so what does this have to do with me?"
"Sara…I found a match in CODIS, two matches actually…" he trailed off.
"So, presumably those are the two parents, right?" she asked.
"The thing is…the thing is…" he took a deep breath, "you're the mother." Sara's eyes widened. She slowly sank down onto her couch, holding her head in her hands.
"I mean…it's not a very exact way of testing. I can try again if you want; there's probably been some kind of mistake." He said, sitting down beside her.
"No," Sara said softly, "I'm pretty sure you're right." She sighed. "How am I going to tell the father?"
"You, uh, know who the father is?" asked Greg.
"Yeah," said Sara, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread, "it's Grissom."
TBC (well…at least if I don't get a lot of work or get bored with it or lazy or something)