Title: Dangerous Assumptions
Author: IrishDachsie

Pairing: Grissom/Sara

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine…well, Todd Burke is mine. The victims (Alannah Morris, Thomas Alpine, and Roger Strossen) are mine. Joseph Channing and Monte Bennett are mine. Xerxes is mine. Everything else…nope.

Sara smiled nervously as she cast a quick glance at Grissom. Seeing that he was preoccupied with gathering evidence, she shoved the small piece of paper into the front pocket of her jeans.

She knelt down and examined the footprint that had caught her attention. Grissom took a deep breath and slowly made his way over to her. She looked into his eyes as he crouched down beside of her.

"Hey. I found a couple of prints. Seem to be…"

He interrupted her with a short nod and a simple wave of his hand. "Don’t do this, Sara. Not again…"

She briefly saw something flash in his eyes before his shield slid back into place. "Don’t do…"

He stood up quickly and glanced around. "Start on the perimeter photos. I’ll get Warrick to cast these…"

She nodded numbly and watched in confusion as he walked away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He slammed his office door, mumbling a self-reprimand for his slip of the tongue as he sat down in his chair. He stared at the case folder resting on his desk. He could feel his pulse rise rapidly. He counted to ten, then twenty, and checked his heart rate. If anything, it had sped up even more.

His head throbbed as a bead of sweat fell from his brow. He bit his lip as his hand balled into a tight fist. He clenched his jaw as he felt his rage building.

The image of the young police officer handing Sara a small slip of paper flashed in his mind. With a loud growl, his hand swept the folder, his desk phone, and the lamp to the floor with a loud crash.

He stared at the mess and wiped his hand across his face. Hearing the door open, he lifted his eyes and was ready to lash out at whoever was standing there.

"What did the lamp do to you?"

He glared at the detective as Brass softly shut the door behind him. Another droplet of sweat rolled into the short hairs of his beard.

"Nothing." He muttered lowly as he reached down to retrieve his pen from the floor.

Brass chuckled lightly. "Hate to see what you would’ve done to it otherwise…"

"What do you want, Jim?" His voice held a tone that stated very clearly his non-amusement.

Brass sat down in the chair after he had picked up the folder and placed it back on the desk. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about." Grissom checked the phone to make sure it was still functional. "Is that all you need?"

Brass regarded Grissom closely for a moment before shaking his head. "No, actually I was wondering what you could tell me."

Grissom exhaled forcefully. "About what?"

With a gentle sigh, Brass picked up the folder from Grissom’s desk. "Joe Channing…"

Grissom’s eyes lightened a touch. "Oh. What about him?"

Brass flipped through the folder nonchalantly. "He doesn’t work alone. Never has. Just sent a couple of uniforms over to pick up his partner from the first four incidents."

Grissom furrowed his brow. "This was number five."

Brass nodded as he closed the folder. "Yep. Not sure who helped him out this time. But, I know he didn’t do it alone."

Grissom tilted his head slightly. "Nothing at the scene suggested more than one person."

Brass leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "He wasn’t alone."

"And you know this how?"

Brass flashed a quick smile as he sat back in the chair. "Roughed him up…" His fists boxed the air as he mimicked a couple of punches. "Sang like a canary after that."

Grissom bit his lip as his eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh."

Jim shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. "Yeah, okay. Told him that I knew he had help. I think that scared him. He ‘fessed up pretty quick."

"We don’t know that he had help this time."

Brass waved his hand in the air. "Working on a hunch."

"Hunches aren’t hard evidence, Jim."

"Hey, I’m a detective, not a CSI. I can work with hunches if I want."

Grissom stared at Brass for a moment before shaking his head. "Number five had a different counterpart than the previous four?"

"Yep. Channing was quick to say that his pal, Monte Bennett, wasn’t with him last night. Checked with Bennett’s manager at his place of employment…checked out. He was working while Channing and his mystery companion raped and murdered Alannah Morris."

"Did Channing say who helped him this time?"

"Nope. He clammed up and refused to name him."

"Why? Why would he risk taking the blame for five rapes and one murder?"

Brass tossed the folder back onto Grissom’s desk and stood up. "He got really nervous. I’m guessing fear."

Grissom watched the detective, his interest clearly showing. Brass smiled and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Grissom.

"You should talk to Sara."

Grissom’s eyes darkened quickly as his fingers tightened around his pen. "Why?"

"Because she was in the interrogation room with us…"

Grissom loosened his death grip on the pen and gave Brass a curt nod. Jim thought for a moment and then took a deep breath.

"Maybe you could find the time to talk to her about what happened at the scene as well…"

When Grissom’s eyes snapped to Brass’, Jim opened the door. "I’m just saying…"

With that, he walked out of the office and left the door open. Grissom stood up and stormed down the hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"So, what was that all about?"

Sara looked at Warrick curiously. "What was what about? A normal interrogation…"

Warrick shook his head quickly. "No…at the scene."

Sara’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Grissom asked me to take the pictures while you cast the prints…"

"Before that. With you and one of Brass’ boys…"

Sara chuckled as she shook her head. "Oh, Burke? Nothing really. He asked me to dinner."

Warrick grinned as he looked up from the computer. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I told him no."

"Sara."

Sara held up one hand, stopping the impending lecture. "He’s a nice enough guy, I suppose. But…I’m just not interested. Case closed."

Warrick sighed in resignation. "So…this Joe Channing?"

"Admits to being involved in the four previous attacks as well as Morris’ rape and murder. Brass sent some of his guys over to pick up a Monte Bennett. Channing says that he was involved with the first four."

"Burke going over to pick him up?" Warrick winked at her with a smile on his face.

Sara didn’t seem amused. Feeling Grissom’s presence, she looked towards the doorway to find him looming there. He gave her a quick glance before diverting his eyes.

"Tell me what you have."

"Shoe prints are consistent with Channing."

Grissom nodded slowly. "Any evidence of a second person at the scene?"

Sara stepped forward. "No, not yet. But…going by Channing’s previous encounters and his reaction in interrogation…"

Grissom turned his steel gray eyes towards her. "Reactions during an interrogation are not evidence, Sara. Leave the hunches to the police. We’re scientists." His glanced at Warrick quickly. "Let me know if you find anything tangible."

Sara stared, her mouth agape, as Grissom stormed out of the room. Hearing Warrick’s soft chuckle, she turned her head. "What’s funny?"

"Nothing…guess I’m not the only one who saw the exchange with Burke."

She shook her head in disgust as she left Warrick in the room alone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Catherine stopped Grissom in the hallway as she rounded the corner. "Hey, DB in a basement."

"Take Nick." He side-stepped her and started to make his way back to his office.

"Don’t you want to know about it?"

He stopped, pivoting around quickly, and stared at her. "Since when does it matter to you whether or not I know about anything?"

Her mouth dropped open in shock; no words came out. His eyes bored into her until she began to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

He scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes as she looked away. "Take Nick, Catherine. I’m busy. You need help, call."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, he turned and slid into his office. Catherine shook her head lightly in disbelief and walked down the hall in search of Nick.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara took a deep breath before she walked into his office. He looked up as she crossed the threshold. "Yes?"

"I…uh. We’re at a standstill right now. Brass and Warrick are questioning Bennett. I talked to Robbins a little while ago. He found some fibers in the gash in the vic’s neck, some deep scratches across her abdomen, and a bite mark on her left hip."

Grissom stared at her as he leaned back and folded his hands on his desk. "And?"

Sara crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the bookshelf. "And the bite mark doesn’t match Channing’s."

"Bennett?"

The one word questions were grating on Sara’s nerves. "Bennett has an airtight alibi. But, no. The bite doesn’t match his dental impressions either."

"The scratches?"

Two words that time. "Fingernail scratches. Nothing found under either suspect’s nails."

"Anything else?"

"Someone else was involved, Grissom. It’s not just a hunch. The evidence is there."

He leaned forward, his eyes darkening. "Anything else?"

Yeah, why are you being such an ass?

She shook her head, her own eyes darkening with anger. "Nope, that’s it. Nothing else. Just proof that Channing wasn’t alone and Bennett wasn’t the one with him, that’s all we got."

"Nothing came up in any of the databases?"

"If it had, I’d know more than I do." She held her breath as his brow furrowed.

He nodded as he exhaled softly. "So, we can prove that Channing and Bennett are responsible for the first four attacks. And we can prove that Channing was involved in the rape and murder of Alannah Morris. That’s what we have?"

Sara nodded in agreement, but said nothing. Grissom pursed his lips. "And we have nothing in the way of evidence to prove who the accomplice is in Morris’ case?"

Again, Sara nodded.

"So…we’re at a standstill for the moment?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Unless we can get Channing to open his mouth and spill another name."

Grissom’s pager vibrated on the desk. He picked it up and read the message quickly. "Catherine and Nick have bugs." He looked up, his eyes softening for a brief moment. "Feel like tagging along?"

Sara stared at him as he walked past her and into the hall, confusion filling her mind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom walked into the dimly lit basement and quickly found Catherine. "What do you have?"

Catherine flipped her hair as she turned to look at him. "Oh, you want to know about it now?"

Grissom exhaled slowly, mentally counting again. "Look, I got a message from O’Riley…said there were insects present."

Catherine nodded, clearly annoyed. "Yeah, on the body." She pointed across the room. "Over there."

As he started to walk to the body, Catherine’s voice chimed in once more. "You bring Sara with you?"

Hearing a soft chuckle, Catherine turned her eyes to see the brunette smiling lightly at her. "Yeah, he brought Sara. Need some help?"

Catherine smiled as she nodded. "Oh yeah."

Grissom stood in the middle of the room, acquainting himself with the scene. The blood spatter on the walls suggested a repetitive swinging action with a heavy object. The Pentagram that had been crudely carved into the cement floor was pointed towards the East wall of the room. He carefully walked around the battered body lying on the floor.

He knelt down beside of the body and pursed his lips as he swatted a couple of flies out of the way. Reaching into his field kit, he pulled out a couple of specimen jars with a smile on his face.

The candles flickered gently against the opposite wall. Nick tilted his head and studied the animal’s head that had been painted on the wall. He methodically swabbed the artwork that he assumed had been painted with the victim’s blood. He shook his head and walked over to his supervisor.

"Looks like a Satanic ritual, Griss." He sighed lightly as he looked at the body. "Poor guy never had a chance."

"What makes you say ‘Satanic ritual’?" He placed a beetle into one of the jars and labeled it quickly.

Nick pointed towards the floor. "Pentagram…goat’s head in blood on the wall…dead man with his wrists and ankles bound. Ritualistic murder…"

Grissom glanced around and his eyes found a book resting on the mantle. "It has been said that if a believer in God touches the book of Satan, his fingers will blister."

"What?"

Grissom walked over to the mantle and placed a gloved hand on the book in front of him, smiling as he picked it up. "Not so much as a tingle." He turned the book over in his hand, examining the binding carefully. "Bag this, will you?"

When Nick didn’t take the book from his hand, he narrowed his eyes. "Nick? It’s just a book…"

"A book for freaks…" He snatched it from Grissom’s hand and slid it into a plastic bag.

"Nick…" His tone was one of warning.

"Hey, Grissom?"

Grissom gave Nick a hard look before turning and walking towards Sara, who was crouched down next to the wall. "What is it, Sara?"

She pointed at an insect crawling along the baseboard. "Is this one of your little guys?"

Grissom narrowed his eyes and picked up the insect. "No." He glanced back at the body as he shook his head. "No, the insects on the body are…younger and a different species. This one is…he wouldn’t arrive at the body for at least three more days."

Sara’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Three days?" She searched the baseboard and smiled. "What do we have here?"

Grissom followed her and sighed heavily. "A scene used for multiple crimes?"

"What?"

Grissom glanced up at Catherine as he handed Sara a bottle of phenolphthalein. "We might have more than one incident here…"

"I have blood." Sara held up the swab, which had turned a dark pink, for the others to see.

"And we have another victim." Grissom sighed as he watched David load the body onto a gurney.

"I don’t know who the other victim is, but I know who’s on the gurney." The three investigators looked towards the detective standing in the doorway. "Thomas Alpine, age 46. Lawyer…very successful lawyer."

Grissom took another quick glance around the room. "Any enemies?"

"Probably…" Brass shrugged his shoulders as he smirked. "He was a lawyer."

Sara shook her head as she swabbed a couple more blood drops.

Brass continued as he glanced at Grissom. "And…a card-carrying member of the Order of the Trapezoid."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Well, this is becoming more interesting…"

Nick cast a questioning glance towards Sara. Receiving a shrug as a reply, he turned to Grissom. "Order of the Trapezoid?"

Grissom looked up from the membership card he was studying. "A group of individuals who assist in the administration of the Church of Satan."

"Church of Satan…" Sara stared at Grissom with a look of disbelief.

Grissom nodded silently, then returned his eyes towards Nick who was gazing at the carving in the floor.

"So…members of this…church…used Mr. Alpine here as a ritualistic sacrifice?"

Handing the card back to Brass, Grissom took the six steps needed to stand directly in front of Nick. He stared into the young man’s dark eyes for a moment before he began to speak. "Nick…we’re here to process the scene. Collect the evidence that we find. Put the pieces together to find out what happened." His voice lowered as his eyes darkened. "Quit trying to put the puzzle together with three pieces out of a thousand."

He took a step back and looked at Sara, his eyes softening somewhat. "Can you help me? I need a cast taken of the carving on the floor…"

"I was going to take pictures…"

"Nick can take pictures."

Nick grumbled to himself as Sara handed him the camera and followed Grissom to the other side of the room.

Catherine gave the young investigator a small smile. "Nick…you know how he is when it comes to assumptions…"

He looked up at her as he knelt to snap a couple of pictures of the baseboard. "It makes sense, though."

Catherine shook her head as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "So did your scuba diver in a tree theory, remember?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders and spoke quietly as he pressed the shutter release button again. "So…should we worry about the fact that he knows so much about the Order of the Trapezoid?"

Offering him a quick wink, she shook her head as she placed the evidence marker on the ground beside of him. "I try not to think about why he knows so much about anything."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom carefully poured the plaster into the carving and glanced at Sara. "What do you know about the Church of Satan?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, the Church is based in San Francisco…"

Sara narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "A lot of things are based in San Francisco…doesn’t mean I know any more than anyone else does."

"Sara…"

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Anton LaVey was the founder. Mid-60’s, I believe. They follow the left-hand path of spiritualism. It’s not something I was ever interested in, so I don’t know much about it. But…I’ve never known them to be…"

"This brutal?" He supplied for her.

She nodded in agreement. "No…never this brutal."

Grissom tilted his head as he stared at the Pentagram. "They tend to not use humans in their sacrifices. Not in the…official Church." He continued to spread the plaster over the carving. "Mr. Alpine was a member of the Church…"

"And that means what, exactly?"

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "That at least one member of the Church was murdered…"

"That’s helpful…" She muttered under her breath.

Grissom stood and walked across the room. Sara stared after him for a minute before shaking her head in confusion. Then she realized that was the emotion she felt most often in the recent months. Confusion.

Maybe I should give Burke a call…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom strode into the DNA lab and stared at the lab-rat. He felt his annoyance grow as Greg jumped around the room in time with the music that was blaring. Grissom’s hand slammed down on the cd player, causing Greg to whip his head around in mid-jump. Seeing the look in Grissom’s eyes, he took a deep breath and calmly walked back to the counter.

"Just getting myself in the mood…"

Grissom’s eyes narrowed. "Your mood has nothing to do with working, Greg. Once you walk through the front doors, you should be prepared to get to work. If not, don’t even bother walking up the stairs."

"Actually, I take the elevator…"

Grissom stared at Greg, his eyes darkening dangerously. Greg cleared his throat and motioned towards the cd player. "KISS…thought it would be fitting for the case you’re working on now…"

"KISS?"

"Yeah…hard 70’s rock band, still…"

Grissom interrupted him quickly. "I’m well aware of what KISS is. I suppose you’re using them because the band’s name supposedly is an acronym for ‘Knights In Satan’s Service’?"

Greg’s eyes widened in surprise. "Uh…yeah…"

"Urban myth, Greg. According to Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley came up with the name of the band during a spontaneous moment while they were stopped at a traffic light." He slammed the clipboard he was carrying onto the counter as he stared at Greg.

"Oh, well…that’s not as interesting, is it?"

"You know what I would find interesting, Greg? The results of the swabs that Sara gave you. And if you really want to keep my interest, you’ll tell me what the fibers are that we pulled from the baseboard in the basement."

"I…uh…" Greg took a deep breath as he tried to control his stammering. "Well, it’s blood. Different than Alpine’s blood."

"I know that."

"I found traces of morphine…"

"Morphine?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, the first victim was probably a heroin addict…with an ever bigger problem than that…"

Grissom stared at the young man, waiting impatiently for him to continue. Seeing that Grissom wasn’t in the mood for guessing games, Greg handed him the report.

Taking the paper from Greg’s hand, Grissom quickly scanned it. "HIV?"

"Yep. Now, the fibers that were found…" He rummaged through the small stack of paper on the counter before pulling one out. "Nylon rope."

"Nylon rope?"

Greg nodded slowly. "Yeah, heavy-duty nylon rope…the kind that mountain climbers use…"

Grissom narrowed his eyes. "What about the duct tape that was used to bind the vic’s arms and legs?"

"Prints came back to a Joseph T. Channing." Greg shrugged his shoulders. "That’s all I have right now…"

"Good enough." Grissom turned and began to walk out of the DNA lab. He paused at the door and turned the cd player back on, quickly lowering the volume.

Greg shook his head in slight confusion as Grissom left the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom sat at the head of the table in the break room, studying the case file. He didn’t look up as Catherine walked in.

"What do you have?"

"Well, I found something in the basement…" His eyes turned to Catherine as she slid a photocopy onto the table.

Grissom leaned forward and shook his head. "A shoe print."

Catherine nodded proudly. "Yep. Found it when I sprayed the floor with luminol after we realized there was more than one death…"

Grissom chewed the end of his pen as he looked at the print. "Could be the first victim’s print, though. We don’t know who he was."

"Roger Strossen…"

Grissom looked up as Greg skidded to a stop at the table and inhaled deeply. "Excuse me?"

"Your blood…belongs to Roger Strossen."

"And…you know this how, Greg?"

"He was a possible heroin addict with HIV. T-cell count was extremely low, so I checked with the AIDS clinics in town." He smiled lightly. "Roger Strossen was in UMC Wellness Center last week. He never came in for his results. They sent a blood sample over…it’s a match."

Grissom nodded slowly as he absorbed Greg’s words. "Nice job. We know the vic’s name, but that print could still be his."

Greg handed Grissom the medical chart for Roger Strossen. "This might help…"

Grissom scanned the chart carefully before he looked up. "What’s the shoe size there?"

"Twelve and a half…"

Grissom shook his head. "I wouldn’t think that print would be Strossen’s."

Catherine smirked as she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Why not?"

"At his last checkup, he was measured at five feet and three inches in height. Slim build…" Grissom shrugged lightly. "The proportions don’t match up. Run the print, see what you come up with."

Catherine nodded and quickly left the room, followed closely by Greg.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara pulled the slip of paper from her pocket and stared at the number. Shaking her head, she shoved it back in as she sighed heavily. Her head jerked up quickly as Grissom stormed through the door.

"We have a positive id on the first vic."

"Really?"

"Roger Strossen. His roommates reported him missing last week."

"The body?"

"No body found yet." He offered a half-smile as he watched the confusion flash in her eyes. "Blood positively matched a sample that Greg received from UMC Wellness Center."

"The AIDS clinic?"

Grissom nodded as he held up the warrant for her to see. "I’m heading over to Strossen’s residence. Catherine and Warrick are running prints, Nick and Brass are questioning Alpine’s family…I could use some help…"

She took a deep breath and gave him a short nod. "Yeah, sure. Let me grab my kit…"

Grissom watched her leave the room as he pulled the Tahoe keys out of his pocket. He exhaled slowly, internally acknowledging the fact that he was going to have to talk to her about his earlier slip.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As they methodically searched Roger Strossen’s room, Grissom and Sara discussed what they knew as fact about each case they were working. Nothing new had come in on the Alannah Morris case. Grissom worried aloud that it may actually be pinned to the fish corkboard soon. With Channing not cooperating by divulging his knowledge about the case, and the evidence collected at the scene not panning out into anything tangible, the case had quickly slammed into a wall.

He cast a wary glance towards Sara as he finished his statement. Previous rape cases had been difficult for her to pull away from. Judging from the way her shoulders were slumped and hearing the sigh of resignation spill from her lips, this one was no different.

"Sara?"

She held her hand out in front of her in a defensive manner. "I’m fine, Grissom." She offered him a weak smile. "But, we will figure it out. No matter how long it takes, I will figure it out."

He sighed sadly as he turned his eyes back towards the chest of drawers in front of him. He pulled open the third drawer and removed a small stack of t-shirts. He smirked as his latex-covered fingers picked up a black leather wallet.

"So, what do we know about Thomas Alpine or Roger Strossen?"

He turned towards her soft voice. "Well, we’re getting ready to learn a little more about Strossen…"

She looked up quickly, a smile forming on her lips. "Wallet. Bonus." She carefully made her way through the maze of dirty clothes lying on the floor to stand next to him. She read Strossen’s driver’s license over Grissom’s shoulder. But what she found even more interesting than the fact that Roger’s middle name was ‘Cecil’ was what they found hidden in the protective flap behind the license.

Grissom pursed his lips, Sara furrowed her brow, as he pulled the red laminated card from its hiding place. He turned his head slightly to look at her. "Looks like we have another dead member of the Order of the Trapezoid…"

She nodded slowly as she took a step backwards. "This is getting weird, Grissom."

He arched an eyebrow as he placed the wallet and its contents into an evidence bag.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Warrick sighed loudly as Grissom and Sara entered the break room. Sara chuckled lightly. "Well, that can’t be a good sign."

Warrick smirked and shook his head. "Man, we’re running in circles here. And…I don’t know where the beginning is anymore…"

Grissom nodded his understanding and glanced at his watch. "Look, it’s after 8 in the morning…we’re tired. We have no new evidence; we’re just trying to piece together what we have."

Warrick, Nick, and Catherine nodded in agreement. Sara just stared at her supervisor.

"Why don’t we go out, have a nice breakfast together, and then come back in tonight with fresh minds. We may be able to have a more objective approach after some rest."

The other three stopped nodding their heads and joined Sara in staring at Grissom.

Catherine shook her head slowly. "I can’t…I promised I’d take Linds to school today." She looked at her watch and groaned. "And…I’m going to have to leave now."

Grissom nodded as Catherine quickly left the room after waving a goodbye. Warrick and Nick glanced at one another before declining breakfast as well. Warrick had a breakfast date with a woman he had met a few days earlier. Nick muttered something about having to take Greg somewhere for something. Grissom couldn’t really make out what Nick had said.

He took a deep breath as he glanced at Sara. "I guess that leaves us…"

Not having anything previously planned for the day, Sara stammered lightly. "I…uh…I need to…uh…" She shrugged her shoulders and lowered her eyes as she started to walk between him and the table to get to the door.

Grissom’s hand quickly grasped her elbow, halting her movement. "Sara…don’t go."

She stared at him in complete silence. He shifted his weight nervously and sighed. "Uh…I’d like to…well." Taking a deep breath, he loosened his grip on her arm and quickly uttered a simple sentence. "I’d like to talk to you…over breakfast."

She nodded slowly and watched him dig the keys to his Tahoe out of his pocket. He handed her the key ring and smiled lightly. "Want to wait in the truck? I just need to feed the tarantula and lock up the office."

She nodded again as she took the keys. Watching him walk out of the break room, she shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts and numbly made her way into the hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Few words had been spoken on the way to the diner on the outskirts of town. And now, here they sat, with a table holding two lukewarm cups of coffee in between them. He glanced out the window as the silence crept on them for the sixth time in the past forty-three minutes.

He sighed as she checked the time. He knew that they had been here longer than he had anticipated. He also knew that he hadn’t begun to tell her what he wanted. He just didn’t know where to start.

"It’s a little…late…"

He nodded as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and fished out a twenty dollar bill. He shook his head and put his hand over the check as she reached for it.

"I just wanted to see how much I owe…"

"Nothing…" He offered a small smile as she looked at him. "It’s…only breakfast…"

He walked to the counter and handed the waitress the check and the money. The woman smiled brightly as she handed him his change. If he noticed the woman’s fingers lingering against his palm, he didn’t show it.

Nothing was said as they walked back to the Tahoe, side by side. He opened the passenger door for her before he made his way to the driver’s side. He silently cursed himself as he slid into the seat and buckled his seatbelt. He sighed heavily as he turned the ignition and pulled onto the highway.

"Grissom?"

He gave her a sideways glance and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. She knew that he had heard her, but he said nothing.

She turned towards the side window and tugged at her seatbelt. "Something wrong?"

She grabbed the handle above the door as he quickly veered off into an empty parking lot. As the Tahoe came to a stop, she turned to look at him. She slowly unbuckled her seatbelt as he slammed the door shut behind him. Through the side mirror, she watched him walk behind the vehicle.

Her fingers nervously tapped the door handle a couple of times before pushing the door open and climbing out onto the quickly warming asphalt. She shuffled around to the back of the Tahoe and leaned against the taillights. The dark lenses of her sunglasses hid her eyes as she quietly observed him sitting on the back bumper.

She cleared her throat softly as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes, something is wrong, Sara’…"

He glanced up at her quickly. "I need to talk to you…"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, that’s what you said earlier. I guess you didn’t want to talk about the advances in the overall understanding of linear regression…"

He closed his eyes as he rested the back of his head against the hot metal of the vehicle. "Not at all…"

"So…" She turned her head, her eyes finding the horizon. "Maybe you’d like to tell me what you meant earlier…"

He nodded as he pushed himself up. "Actually…yeah."

She turned her head quickly back towards him, her mouth dropping open in surprise. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step forward, away from the Tahoe. He spoke quickly, as though he was afraid that if he didn’t get it out in one quick burst, it would remain forever locked inside of his heart and mind.

"I’m trying, Sara. I’m trying to get past all of my insecurities. I know what to do about this. I do. But, the more I try to move forward, the farther I push myself back. And then I stand there and watch some young guy flirt with you. And I watch you flirt back. And then I wonder where I stand with you. And when I watch you slip a piece of paper into your pocket, that I’m sure contains his phone number, I realize where I stand. On the sidelines…alone. That’s not what I want. So, please…don’t do this. To me, to yourself, to us." He took a deep breath, thankful that he had slid his sunglasses on as they left the diner. "I’m not sure that I can handle going through that again."

They stood there for a few moments, on the hot asphalt parking lot, staring at each other behind the sunglasses that served as security blankets for the both of them. He held his breath as he watched her slide her hand into her front pocket. His heart raced as she pulled the small piece of paper out. He shifted his weight, keeping his hidden eyes locked on the dark lenses of her glasses.

With a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, she crumpled the paper and dropped it to the ground.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He snatched his cell phone from the bedside table and flipped it open. "Grissom."

Brass smirked at the gruff tone in Grissom’s voice. "Did I wake you?"

Grissom flung his arm over his eyes as he fell back onto the pillows. "What do you want, Brass?"

"Your two dead Satanists? Apparently, they were part of a faction of the rectangle order…"

"Order of the Trapezoid…" Grissom corrected him.

"Whatever. Anyway, they’re a part of this faction who want to spread the knowledge."

"What?" Grissom moved his arm from his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah, they’re kind of like Jesus freaks…only they want to spread the word of Satan."

"Well, that’s…uh…"

"Fucked up?" Jim supplied quickly.

Grissom chuckled softly. "Well, I was going to say ‘interesting’…but, ‘fucked up’ works just as well."

Jim laughed lightly. "It does, doesn’t it? Anyway, I’m going to head over to the geometrical shape headquarters and see what I can find out. Two members of an extreme faction are dead, other members are keeping quiet…what does that sound like to me?"

Grissom sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "An inside job?"

Brass nodded as he doodled on a legal pad. "Yep…wanna go with me?"

"Yeah…how about Sara and I meet you there?"

"Sara? Is she there with you?"

"Jim, I’ve been in bed all day. You woke me up. I’m supposed to be at work in an hour and a half."

"Uh-huh…well, yeah. Now I have all kinds of mental images that I really don’t want." He chuckled and mumbled an "I’ll see you there" and hung up the phone.

Grissom shook his head slowly and dialed Sara’s number. She answered on the second ring.

"Hey…"

"Sounds like I didn’t wake you up."

"No, I’ve been up for a few hours. What’s up?"

He grinned as he heard the smile in her voice. "Brass has a lead…how about I come by and pick you up…and we go check it out."

"Sounds good. Give me twenty minutes?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Look, I don’t know what to tell you…"

Brass glanced at the man’s driver’s license again. "Mr. Ferguson…"

"No, I’m not Mr. Ferguson." He smiled thinly as the detective gave him a questioning glare. "At least, not when in the Church. Call me Xerxes."

"Uh-huh. Well, Xerxes…you can start by giving us a theory as to why two of your members have been murdered."

Xerxes calmly poured a cup of coffee and blew across the top of the mug. "I have no theory, sir. It’s a shame, a terrible shame. But, I have no idea why someone would kill them."

Brass shot a quick glance at Grissom, who was staring intensely at the man in front of them. Taking an exaggerated breath, Brass turned his attention back to Xerxes.

"Well, according to what we’ve discovered…Mr. Alpine and Mr. Strossen were involved in a…well, faction--for lack of a better word--that is under the impression that if the word gets out, more people will join your…church."

Xerxes chuckled quietly. "Mr. Brass, in every church…Satanic or not…there are factions. Those who lean towards the militant side of the religion. Those who sit quietly and accept the religion for what it is. And then, there are those who want to go out into the world and spread the gospel. Generally, people are not murdered because of the faction they belong to."

Grissom nodded slowly. "Very true, Xerxes. However, two of your members were murdered. And from the evidence we’ve found, their murders seem to be pre-meditated and extremely well-thought-out."

Concern crossed Xerxes features. "May I ask a question, Mr. Grissom?"

"Of course."

"Can you tell me where the bodies were found?"

Grissom narrowed his eyes slightly as he considered the question. With a brief nod, he divulged some information. "Mr. Alpine’s body was found in a basement…with various Satanic elements present."

Xerxes held up his hand quickly in a request to speak. "Are you implying that his death occurred during a Satanic ritual?"

Grissom shook his head. "I’m not implying anything. I’m stating what we found."

"Mr. Grissom, Satanic rituals do exist. I can say, however, that humans are not used for sacrifice. Especially members of the Order." Xerxes took a deep breath. "What about Mr. Strossen?"

"With the amount of his blood that was found at the scene, we are able to say that he didn’t survive his attack. However, we haven’t found his body."

"The carcasses of sacrifice are never hidden. If he had been sacrificed, and I assure you that he wasn’t, his body would have been left where he died."

Grissom nodded as he lightly took hold of Sara’s elbow. "Thank you for your help, Xerxes."

The man nodded as Grissom took a step backwards. "If you have any more questions, please ask."

Brass’ eyes darted back and forth between the two men as he listened to the exchange. Handing the license back to Xerxes, Brass offered him a quick nod and turned to follow the two investigators out of the building.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What the hell was that?"

Grissom let go of Sara’s arm and turned to face the detective. "What was what?"

"That…" He jerked his thumb back towards the Church. "That little conversation between you and WeirdZees…"

"Xerxes. And he was telling the truth, Jim. He doesn’t know what happened." Grissom sighed lightly as Brass stared at him in bewilderment. "Satanists do not offer humans as sacrifice. The scene shows clear evidence that the perpetrator was trying to make it look as though it was a sacrifice."

"You scare me, Gil." Brass shook his head slowly as Grissom stared at him. "You know too much about this shit. Hell, for that matter, you know too much about a lot of things."

Grissom shrugged his shoulders. "I read a lot…"

"About Satanism?"

"I read what I think might be interesting."

"You find…Satanism…interesting?" Brass took a step away from Grissom.

"Interesting, yes. It doesn’t mean that I subscribe to their beliefs." Grissom offered the detective a grin. "I receive LPA Today because I find the lives of little people interesting. It’s amazing what they do to overcome what most people see as a disability." He gave Sara a sideways glance. "Because I find it interesting, I read about it. It doesn’t mean I’m a little person."

Sara snickered lightly, causing Grissom and Brass to look at her. Sara shrugged her shoulders and turned to climb into Grissom’s Tahoe. "Sorry…that was just…a funny analogy…"

Brass shook his head as Sara closed the door and buckled her seatbelt. Grissom chuckled and looked at Brass.

"Bottom line, Jim. We’re looking in the wrong place."

"Okay…so, what do you do now?"

With a half smile, Grissom glanced at the Tahoe. "Go back to the lab, go over everything. Again."

"Sounds like fun. Think I’ll go see what else has come in while I was wasting my time with Lord Xerxes…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom stopped for the red light on Tropicana Avenue and turned to look at Sara. "Would you like to go out to dinner?"

"What?"

"Well, we both have tomorrow night off…providing neither of us are called in. I thought maybe we could have a nice dinner…and see where this goes…"

Sara smiled as she glanced out the passenger side window. "How about I fix breakfast in the morning for us? And…if that goes well, we’ll see about dinner."

His right hand left the steering wheel and lightly touched her knee. "That sounds nice, Sara."

The rest of the drive back to the lab was spent in a comfortable silence.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom stared at the photos spread across the evidence table. He knew the answer was hidden somewhere. The problem was, it was seemingly hidden extremely well. He looked up as Sara walked into the room.

"Find anything?"

Grissom shook his head sadly. "No…it’s here though. Somewhere." He tilted his head slightly and offered her a smile. "What about you?"

"No. I just went and spoke to Channing again…and he’s still not talking. Something has him spooked, Griss…"

Grissom exhaled softly and glanced at his watch. "Breakfast?"

Sara’s smile grew. "Yeah. That’s one reason I came by…we have sixteen minutes left of shift. And…I need to pick some things up. For breakfast…"

Grissom nodded as she stammered lightly. "Go ahead…we’re not going to find anything case-breaking in the next sixteen minutes, I’m afraid."

"So…I’ll see you in a little while?"

He grinned brightly. "I’ll be there, Sara."

Without another word, she nodded happily and left the room. He watched her through the glass walls until she was out of sight, and then looked back down at the table with a smile on his face.

And there it was.

His smile faded quickly as he grabbed the two separate photographs and ran down the hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nick looked up, startled as Grissom rushed into the room. He threw the pictures down on the table in the break room and stared at his three subordinates.

"Someone want to tell me how we missed this?"

All eyes focused on the photos and after a few minutes, Nick looked up at his supervisor. "Footprints from the two scenes…"

Grissom narrowed his eyes and leaned on the table. "Matching footprints from the two scenes, Nick."

Nick’s eyes clouded with confusion as he pointed towards the picture taken from the rape and murder scene. "But…that print is…"

Nick was interrupted by the shrill ring of Grissom’s cell phone. He flipped it open quickly and barked "Grissom". He listened closely for a second, and then motioned for Warrick to follow him as he broke into a run and sprinted from the room.

Catherine and Nick exchanged a concerned glance before Nick turned his eyes back to the photographs lying on the table.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Finding a very solemn Brass leaning against the wall, Grissom and Warrick made their way through the steady stream of medical personnel running through the hall.

"What exactly happened, Jim?" Grissom breathed deeply.

"He wasn’t left alone for more than 10 minutes. He didn’t show any signs of suicidal tendencies…he was just a scared kid…"

Warrick grunted as a paramedic shoved him from behind. "Ten minutes is more than enough time…"

Grissom moved closer to the wall. "What happened?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders as he fingered the paper in his hand. "Pulled the sheet from the bed. The guard went back to check on him…found him, tried to revive him. Nothing worked…" He exhaled deeply and handed the paper to Grissom. "We did find this though…"

Grissom scanned the suicide note quickly and stared at Brass. "Where is he?"

Brass shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I sent a couple of uniforms over to his house…"

Brass pulled his cell phone from his belt as it vibrated against his hip. "Brass…"

His eyes narrowed quickly as he looked at Grissom. "On my way."

"Did they find him?"

"What’s the name of the apartment complex where Sara lives?"

"Oasis Cove…" Grissom felt his pulse rise. "Why?"

Warrick glanced at Grissom curiously as he took the note from Grissom’s hand.

Brass licked his lips and spoke quietly. "Disturbance at Oasis Cove. A woman called in saying she heard another woman screaming in the apartment above hers…"

Without listening to anything else Brass had to say, Grissom turned and ran back down the hall. Warrick read the note quickly and, uttering a soft curse, took off after Brass and Grissom.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The tires on Grissom’s Tahoe squealed as he pulled into the parking lot. He jumped out quickly after fumbling with his seatbelt. The red and blue lights of the police cruisers bounced off of the walls of the complex.

Brass grabbed Grissom’s arm to stop him from running up the stairs. "Gil, wait…"

Grissom glared at the detective and pulled his arm free. Hearing his name, he pivoted around to find Sara standing on the sidewalk with several grocery bags in her arms. She glanced around her surroundings, the confusion evident on her face.

He ran to her quickly and wrapped his arms around her. She dropped the bags onto the concrete as she felt his heart pounding against her chest.

"Grissom? What’s wrong?"

He pulled back and looked at her through fear-glazed eyes. With no further warning, his hands raised to her face and held her as his lips brushed across hers.

Warrick’s mouth dropped open as the kiss deepened. Sara’s arms wound around Grissom’s neck as she returned the kiss. As if he suddenly remembered where he was, Grissom pulled from the kiss and stared at her.

Her voice was no louder than a whisper when she opened her mouth to speak. "What happened?"

"There was…there was a call. Screams heard. I was worried…I thought…it might be you…"

She caressed his cheek. "Why would it be me?"

She looked over his shoulder and gasped as she saw the man being led down the stairs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his chest was covered in scratches, his wrists bound by the steel handcuffs.

Grissom turned his head and followed her gaze, unconsciously pulling her closer to him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara sat in the observation room, flanked by Catherine and Nick. They watched silently as Grissom and Brass entered the interrogation room and sat down opposite of the suspect.

Grissom stared into the man’s eyes for a moment before leaning forward. "You’re being charged with three counts of murder, one count of rape, and one count of attempted rape."

"What?" The man’s eyes widened in surprise.

Grissom’s hands shook slightly as he sat back in the chair. "Evidence collected at two recent crime scenes suggests that you were involved in the rape and murder of Alannah Morris, as well as the murders of Thomas Alpine and Roger Strossen."

"Morris? I worked that scene."

Grissom nodded slowly as he pushed the two photographs across the table and pointed towards the first one. "That is your footprint at that particular scene." His finger moved to the second picture. "And that is your footprint we found in the basement where Alpine and Strossen were murdered."

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I worked that scene too…"

Grissom’s eyes darkened. "No, actually you didn’t. And even if you did…this footprint was found in Strossen’s blood that you attempted to clean up."

Officer Burke opened his mouth, then closed it quickly as Brass spoke. "Joseph Channing committed suicide in his holding cell earlier…" He slid the note across the table. "He left that for us though."

Burke chuckled nervously as he read the words on the paper. His chuckle ended as he read the simple statement in the note. Todd Burke killed her, I didn’t. "You’re going to take the word of some sick kid who raped five women?"

Grissom reached into the evidence bag that he had brought into the room with him. His glare hardened as he pulled the rope out and placed it on the table. "That was found in your apartment."

"Yeah? I use it when I go rock climbing in the valley…"

Grissom nodded as he fingered the edge of the rope. "There’s an interesting story about this rope. This particular rope. Would you like to hear it?"

Burke shifted nervously in his seat. "Sure, why not?"

He picked up the end of the rope and exhaled softly. "The end of this rope has been cut."

"It was knotted…"

"But, you see…the interesting thing is this. The fibers we found imbedded in Thomas Alpine’s skin perfectly match this rope."

"You can buy this type of rope at any outdoor sports store."

Grissom dropped the rope back onto the table. "No, you see…the ends of the fibers we found…match the ends of the fibers found on the cut end of this rope. This rope, your rope, was used to bind Thomas Alpine. And probably, Roger Strossen as well."

Burke said nothing as he diverted his eyes.

"We have all the proof we need to have you convicted. I just have a question."

Burke looked back up, his dark eyes meeting the steel blue eyes of the investigator. "What?"

"Why Alpine and Strossen? What did they do to you?"

"I’m a Christian man, Grissom. I don’t want those kind of people in my city."

"So…you killed them because their religious beliefs were different to yours?"

"No." He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "I killed them because Satanists are evil. They have no place in a world that God created."

Grissom regarded the young man closely as he stood up. "Thou shalt not kill."

Burke smirked as Grissom walked to the door. "Too bad Sara wasn’t home this morning."

Grissom whipped his head around. Sara’s mouth dropped open. Nick stood up angrily, knocking his chair over. Catherine gripped Sara’s forearm.

Brass positioned himself between Burke and Grissom as his friend took a step forward. "Gil…no."

"She’s…" Burke licked his lips as he grinned at Grissom.

"Too bad you didn’t wait another thirty minutes before you knocked on her door."

"Yeah?"

Grissom flung the door open as his angry eyes bore into Burke. "Yeah. You sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you had."

Brass quickly ushered two of his men into the room to escort the former officer down to booking. The door to the observation room opened as Grissom walked past it.

"Gil…"

Grissom turned his head sharply towards Catherine’s voice. He looked past her to see Sara standing behind her. He pushed past Catherine and stood in front of Sara. His trembling fingers touched her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly, leaning into his hand as his palm pressed against her cheek. "I…uh…I broke the eggs."

"What?"

"I was going…I was going to fix you an omelet. For breakfast. But…I dropped the bag. The eggs broke."

Catherine motioned for Nick to follow her out of the room. She smiled lightly as she closed the door behind them.

Grissom smiled as he looked into her eyes. She noticed that the darkness had left his eyes, leaving brilliant blue irises staring back at her.

"I’m not worried about the eggs, Sara."

"Why did you kiss me?" The question came out in a hushed whisper, as though she were afraid that someone would overhear.

"That’s not how I wanted our first kiss to be…" He glanced at her lips quickly before focusing on her eyes again. "I was so scared…that something had happened to you. And…when I saw you standing there…you were safe. You hadn’t been hurt. And everything that I had been questioning about my feelings for you were answered in those few seconds."

His fingers brushed through her hair as he leaned into her and kissed her lips softly. "How about I take you out for breakfast?"

She smiled as the palm of her hand rested against his chest. "I think I’d like that."

With another quick kiss, he turned and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, he smiled as they walked down the hall and out into the warm air that was uniquely Las Vegas.

~ End

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