For one whole month he'd been playing this charade with great success. No one had found out and no one had asked any uncomfortable questions, no matter how much they wanted to. Grissom was getting used to live in the twilight-zone and grew into his new part as his body grew with him.
But tonight things were gonna change, as he was called to a field outside Las Vegas where a hobo had found the body of a baby. He was the first of his crew to reach the scene, and for that he was eternally grateful. The tiny, abused body actually brought tears to the "Man of Ice" as he lifted the covers she'd been wrapped in to see a body covered with bruises. She couldn't be more than six months old, and her life had been a hell from start to end. Who had done this to this innocent child?
He saw Catherine arrive and immediately ushered an officer to send her away. She was a mother, this was no case for her. He would order for Sarah instead.
She came just as Grissom was tucking the little one into a body bag. There was a look in his eyes she'd never seen before.
"I hope you're up for this, Sarah. This is going to be a though one", Grissom said as he closed the briefcase with all his field equipment.
"I think I'm up for it", Sarah answered reassuringly. "I see there's nothing more to do here."
"No, I've bagged all the evidence. Sadly there was none", Grissom sighed. "There's no footprints, nothing. The one who did this threw her as far as he could to make sure he wouldn't leave any signs."
"And it's a secondary crime scene, yes?" Sarah asked. She was eager to show her mentor that she was up to speed.
"That's right. She was dumped here by the bastard who did this to her", Grissom answered and removed the rubber glows from his hands. The passion in his voice showed traces of both the old Grissom and the Grissom that once in a while got carried away in cases. Sarah didn't blame him for getting upset in this one, no matter how many times he repeated his own mantra. "You shall not identify yourself with the victim."
Back at the lab all work was set aside in favour of the baby-case. It was crucial to get as much information about the baby as possible in a short time. There could be a deranged mother on the loose or something completely different. Grissom and Sarah joined Dr. David Robbins, the coroner of the Las Vegas Police Department, as he was to start the examination of the young victim.
"I have a granddaughter around her age", he mumbled as he uncovered the remains of the baby.
Sarah winced when she saw the battered body.
"That poor little thing! Who could do something like that to a little baby?" she whined and took a few steps away from the table.
"A very disturbed and dangerous person or persons", Grissom answered. A black shadow was settling over his face as he observed Robbins examine the tiny corpse.
She had three very distinct moles beneath her navel, a trace that could help them find out where she belonged. Grissom had already sent copies of the pictures he took on the crime scene to every hospital and police station in the area. Maybe she was reported missing, or maybe someone in one of the hospitals recognized her.
"How long has she been dead, doc?" Sarah asked as the coroner measured some cuts on the infant's stomach.
"Well.. judging by the bloodshot eyes I would guess five, six hours tops, and that the cause of death was choking," he answered as he carefully opened the girl's mouth. "Grissom, give me one of those cotton-sticks over there," Robbins ordered and pointed towards one of the shelves.
"You found something?"
Sarah leaned closer to see. She half expected to find a marble logged down the baby's throat, but she couldn't discover what the doctor was seeing.
"I hope I'm not right about this…", Robbins mumbled as he received a q-tip from Grissom. He moved it slowly down the baby's throat, and scraped the inside of her air tube. When he brought the q-tip back up a deep frown appeared on his face. A white, thick fluid was brought up, a clue the murderer thought he would conceal by cleaning the baby before dumping her.
"I think you'd better take this down to Greg for a DNA-analysis."
"Oh my God!" Sarah whispered as she realized what it had to be. "Please tell me that that's not…"
She never finished her sentence. Grissom's face went ashen in a second, and a moment later he turned and ran, out of the lab.
Grissom sprinted to the men's room and just managed to lean over a toilet before he threw up. Down on his knees he belched and belched as the gruesome end to a little baby girl's life jabbed his heart. He'd never gotten this upset because of a case before, never! And now he was barely able to hold his head up, so devastated his whole body shook in tremors. She had been raped to death. Not smothered with a pillow or beaten to death, she had been raped to death.
"Grissom?" It was Sarah's voice. He hadn't even noticed her entrance. "Gil, are you okay?" He felt a tender hand rest on his shoulder and he noticed Sarah used his first name for a change.
He fell back from the toilet, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned weakly towards the stall wall.
"I don't know what came over me…", he mumbled, embarrassment painting his cheeks as a cold sweat covered his brow. He closed his eyes to recover from the dizziness running through his head.
"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed over!" Sarah told him. "Anyone with a human heart would feel sorry for that little girl!" He opened his eyes to find tears in young Sarah's face. He wasn't the only one who got upset by the new turn of the case.
"I guess the gruesomeness in this world never stops to amaze us," he sighed. Sarah leaned closer and he pulled her into a clumsy embrace. That's when Grissom made a silent oath to himself and to the baby lying in the morgue that he would not rest until the person or persons responsible for putting her there were behind bars. Grissom would die before this case would end up on any Fishboard!
*-*
Within two hours the baby was identified as Melissa Stevens. She had shown up in a missing people file in one of the police precincts. Grissom read through the file and knew he and Sarah had one hell of a job ahead of them. It turned out Melissa had been abducted from the hospital mere four hours after delivery and that she'd been missing ever since. A woman named Rita Timmons had been brought in for questioning in the case as a witness had sworn she'd seen her leave the hospital with a baby in her arms, but the case was dismissed due to lack of evidence.
"All right, we've identified the baby. Get Brass over here, tell him to get a search warrant for this Timmons-woman's house and bring her and any possible boyfriends in for questioning!" Grissom told Nick, who nodded eagerly. "And tell him not to start the questioning before I come back! Sarah and I are going over to inform the baby's parents."
They sat in silence the short drive to Melissa's parents, only the soft sound of Travis singing in the car stereo. This wasn't normally in their job-prescription, but Grissom felt a need to be the one to tell the baby's parents. Cops were too blunt, they told the next of kin every horrible detail, not considering the message they had to convey, and Grissom didn't want to add to the parents' pain by telling them in detail what miserable six months of life that had been granted their daughter.
"Let me do the talking, all right?" Grissom said as they walked up the driveway to the house where the Stevens lived. Sarah nodded, only happy to concede. Two minutes after they'd rung the bell a man opened the front door.
"Do you know what time it is?" There were signs of grumpiness in his voice, and the pajamas indicated that he'd been sleeping when the door bell chimed. Not a surprise really, it was three am in the morning…
"My name is Gil Grissom, and this is Sarah Sidle. We're with the Las Vegas Criminalist Bureau. I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Mr. Stevens, but I have some bad news for you and your wife. May we come in?"
"Yes… yes of course." Mr. Stevens backed away from the door and let the two forensic investigators inside. "I'll just run upstairs to get my wife…" There was stress in his voice, and his body language indicated fear. "It's Melissa… isn't it..? You've found her…"
"I'd prefer you get your wife first, Mr. Stevens", Grissom told him calmly.
Martin Stevens nodded and ran upstairs.
Sarah and Grissom sat down in a beige couch in the living-room, silently studying the surroundings. Given the expensive furniture and the exquisite decorating there were no doubt the Stevens had a lot of money and that they enjoyed showing it. Grissom pondered on what they'd paid the decorator and how many years of down payment he would have needed with *his* salary?
After a short while a woman, presumably Mrs. Stevens, came scrambling down the stairs, closely followed by her husband. She was a short, tubby woman with striking blue eyes.
"Mrs. Stevens." Grissom rose and reached out his arm.
"Melissa, you have news about her?" the woman urged, suddenly remembering to tie her robe. Grissom was filled with sorrow as he saw the desperate hope in the couple's eyes.
"I think you and your husband better sit down...", he told them softly. He watched as all hope vanished from their eyes and sat down.
*-*
It never gets any easier. Muffled crying was the only sound in the gigantic living-room. Death had visited this home. Grissom had told them.
Their daughter was dead.
She'd been choked to death.
No suspects, yet.
Certain details surrounding the baby's death was conveniently left out, Grissom didn't have the heart to tell the whole truth of what had happened to her.
"I promise you: I'll do everything that's in my power to find the animal who did this." Grissom's grave face was proof of his dedication.
The grieving couple nodded and thanked him and Sarah for coming.
"We never got to bring our little Melissa home", Mrs. Stevens sobbed as the forensic investigators got to their feet. Grissom didn't stand to watch the pained face of the mother and his gaze dropped cowardly down on a tiny baby blanket. It was carefully folded, laying on the armrest of the sofa next to where the Stevens had been sitting.
Mrs. Stevens picked it up and embraced it with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Martin bought this right after Melissa was born, to take her home in. We were so happy, we'd been trying to get pregnant for ages. But my Melissa never got to be wrapped in her blanket, not even once!" Her sobs broke into whines and her husband pulled her closer.
"We've kept it down here in the livingroom the past six months, to tuck our daughter in the day she came home. We never gave up hope about seeing her again…"
"We're truly sorry about your loss", Sarah offered meekly as she and Grissom left them to mourn in peace.
He sighed heavily when they got into the car.
"It's so unfair!" Sarah could no longer hide her frustration and anger. Thin fingers rolled into angry fists, her figure tensed. "It's just so damn unfair!"
"I know", Grissom hopelessly agreed. A shadow had crept over his eyes and he looked dog-tired.
"But do you know what really pisses me off?!" she growled and turned towards her boss so her hair flew: "All we can do for this family is to try and find the ones that did this to their little girl! Some comfort!"
"Catching the one who did this will save other little girls, Sarah."
Grissom started the car and reversed back out on the road. Sarah's blue eyes rested on him as she said the last, devastating words:
"Yes, but that won't bring Melissa Stevens back..."
*-*
Back at the office a very impatient Brass was waiting for Grissom to arrive.
"Finally!" he moaned as the level 3 forensic investigator walked through the doorway. "I've been waiting for half an hour!"
"Relax, Brass!" Grissom said as he dumped some papers on the nearest desk. "Have you brought in the woman yet?"
Brass made an important gesture with his hands:
"Oh, yeah! *And* her boyfriend!" he grinned. "And guess who's a convicted child molester..?"
A dangerous spark ignited Grissom's eyes.
"Let me see this piece of scum's file, now!" Brass handed him some sheets of paper. "Viktor Renkin, raped a minor at the age of eighteen. Claimed the girl looked older, of course…"
Grissom ran through the file as he headed down the halls towards the interrogation room. Throughout his 37 years, Viktor Renkin had obviously developed some kind of fondness of jail-cells. His first convicted crime had been the rape, and from there on everything seemed to have gone downhill for the unemployed man. He'd done time for petty theft and one attempted arson, but Grissom found no more rape-charges in the man's crime history. But one time was one time too many!
Renkin looked like a scruffy scarecrow wearing raggedy clothes and black, greasy hair loosely tied back in a ponytail.
"Finally some action here!" he giggled as Brass and Grissom entered the room. "What have I supposedly done this time? You can't tell me you stormed my girlfriend's place just because I've done a little moonlighting in my days?!"
Grissom sat down opposite him and the amusement immediately disappeared from Renkin's gray eyes.
"I think you should start by telling me your exact whereabouts today, starting with when and where you woke up." Grissom's voice was calm and cold.
Renkin gave Grissom a confused glare.
"I've been at my girl's crib all day! Haven't gone out once! Just ask Rita, she'll confirm it! She's been with me all the time!"
"Now isn't that convenient!" Brass snarled sarcastically from the corner of the room.
Grissom stared long and hard at the scarred man sitting opposite him. They had less than nothing to hold this guy. He'd come into Ms. Timmons' life one month after she'd been checked out of the Melissa- case. But he looked rotten, and he'd done perversities before, so Grissom decided to challenge him.
"I'll give you an offer too good to refuse", he said and leaned closer across the table, creating some sort of intimacy between him and the suspect.
"You'll give me a sperm sample and allow me to conduct a DNA-test, and I'll let you go as soon as you are checked out of the case."
Befuddlement and repulsion fought Renkin's features.
"Hell no!" he barked. "I haven't raped anyone!"
"Well, then it wouldn't be any trouble for you to go along with it then!" Grissom snarled back through gritted teeth.
If this man wasn't cooperating then he was guilty!
"You don't have ANYTHING on me!" Renkin shouted and jumped to his feet in desperation. Grissom remained calm on the outside as he removed the reading glasses he'd been wearing.
"You know what's fascinating with babies? When we are born we're born with a set of reflexes crucial for our survival. They help developing our brain, making it grow and complex. But there's especially one reflex that make me think of how vulnerable and helpless a little baby is, you know what that is?" Renkin slowly shook his head while he still remained standing.
"It's called the "Suckle Reflex". When something touches a baby's lip it will automatically start sucking on it. It may be a finger, a nipple, a pen.. doesn't matter. The baby's reflexes makes it suckle to make sure it gets nourishment from his mother's breast." Grissom told him calmly. Renkin glared at him.
"Nice story, what the hell has that got to do with me?! Now will someone let me out of here, you have nothing on me, and I know the law: you can't force me to give you "samples"!!" he added with a shivering undertone of anger. Somewhere deep down in the core of Gil Grissom a rage erupted into a terrible fire.
"You goddamn piece of shit!" he yelled and sprung to his feet. With one fierce toss he threw the table that separated him from the suspect across the room so it went smashing into the wall. Loosing his last sense of control, both hands wrapped around Renkin's throat and Grissom leaned closer to terrify the man even more.
"Maybe I'll do it for you?! I'll just jam a big, fat syringe up your balls and extract whatever rotten fluids circulating in there!"
"Grissom!" Brass, who'd been so taken aback by Grissom's outburst that he had paralyzed, finally regained control over his tongue and body. He hit his colleague hard in the side to make him let go of Renkins. "Release him immediately!!!" he yelled. "That's an ORDER, Grissom!"
The fog cleared a little and Grissom let go of the man's throat. Renkin slowly sled down to the floor, couching, spitting and wheezing, pure fear bathed in his face.
"Outside, NOW!" Brass roared and pushed Grissom in the back. He was so angry his cheeks turned purple as he made sure the door behind him was locked. He grabbed Grissom, a much stronger man, by the collar of his shirt. "What the fuck came over you in there?! Do you want your sorry ass to be thrown into jail?!" But Grissom was still furious.
"I only did what was necessary, Brass! If we don't get a sample from that guy, he'll walk!"
Brass let go of Grissom's shirt and shoved him away.
"For fuck's sake, Grissom! I *know* we don't have anything on him! He wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for the woman. The possibility that he's the one we're looking for is slim at best! And you just put your entire career on jeopardy because of some farfetched hunch!? What has happened to your judgement, man?" Brass paced back and forth, glaring at the man in front of him. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes to his friend's indignation.
"Consider your self one very lucky man if that guy don't sue your fat ass! And stay the hell away from MY interrogations from now on!"
Grissom had a murderous look on his face when he joined Sarah and Doctor Robbins in the lab.
"Hey you, how did the interrogation go?" Sarah asked, as her boss seemed to try and rip apart the white coat she handed him.
"Not too good, I don't expect Brass to be talking to me any time soon… What have you found so far?"
"Not much!" the coroner sighed and shook his head for emphasis. "We found a small fiber between the toes on her right foot and traces of soap, Sun Ultra to be exact, all over her body. Someone made sure she was squeaky clean before they dumped her."
"What can you tell me about the fiber?" Grissom asked as he once more had a look at the battered body on the examination table.
"Cotton, yellow. Probably from a piece of warm clothing."
Grissom turned towards Sarah who resembled a science geek with the big, plastic glasses they usually wore in the examination room.
"Who's doing the house search over at the Timmons' place?"
"Catherine and Nick", Sarah answered and then added eagerly: "I'll give them a call and have them look for yellow fabrics and Sun Ultra."
"Thanks," Grissom answered, a tad calmer now. "What can you tell me of her injuries, Doc?"
The bearded coroner, who looked like a misplaced Santa Clause in this place, sighed once more.
"Where to begin... She has three broken ribs, one broken arm and a fractured leg. There's lots of wounds and gashes, old ones and new ones, plenty of scars and there's a swelling in her lower back. In fact the only parts of her body that aren't severely bruised are her face and hands. The complexion of her skin and the lack of baby fat indicates that she's been dangerously undernourished the most of her life." He pointed at some small burn marks on the inside of her thighs: "These are burn marks from cigarettes. And as if that wasn't enough, her hymen is broken. She didn't stand a chance. If she hadn't been choked to death she would have died of starvation within two, three weeks. I've found signs of far progressed blindness in both her eyes."
Here Sarah could no longer suppress a fearful shudder, and Grissom bit his knuckles so hard they started to bleed. This child had known nothing but evilness her entire, short life. How could there still be anyone out there believing in Heaven and God? And to think that he was about to bring a child into this horrible world… His burden was starting to get too heavy for him to carry.
Later that night, at the end of the graveyard shift, Grissom bumped into Brass on his way home.
"So, is my fat ass fired?" he asked while they were walking side by side down the hall together.
"No. The bastard actually agreed to take the test after all", Brass answered, rolling his eyes.
"Sometimes I envy you your luck, Grissom!"
But the man walking on his side simply shook his head in silent resignation:
"Don't be!" he answered. "There's nothing to envy..."
*-*
Weirdly enough he fell right asleep when he plunged down in his bed. He was too tired to stay awake, no matter how much the images of a tiny body haunted him. But there were other ghosts that had no intentions of resting that night…
He found himself tied to a table, naked and gagged. His whole body was aching, and there were people surrounding him, watching him. He moved his head to look around, but his vision was blurred and he didn't manage to catch any glimpses of the faces of his spectators. There was a low, humming noise extending from the crowd as one man stepped forward.
This person carried something in his right hand, and he wore nothing but ragged, worn pants. The fear this person brought to his mind made him scream. But the duct tape muffled his screams, and no one came forward to help him. As the person came closer he rested his free hand on the gagged man's abdomen and the object in his other hand suddenly came into view. He jerked the ropes tying him down as he realized it was a large syringe, filled with some sort of white liquid. A demonic smile spread across the face of the man holding the thing, but still his face was out of sight for the bound man. Tension built and filled the room with electricity as the man without a face lifted the syringe and ran it slowly down towards naked flesh.
Grissom tried to wriggle away, plea for mercy, but there was no one listening to his prayers that night. A sharp prick, unexplainable pain burning through his veins...
The room around him erupted into cheers and the man without a face lifted his arms with the empty syringe triumphantly…
Grissom awoke with gasp as he fought his way up in a sitting position. His shirt was soaked and his chest ached from the panic cursing through him.
"It was only a dream, only a dream!" he mumbled hoarsely as he dried his forehead. Slowly his senses recognized well known surroundings, letting the panting man relax a little more. He was about to lie down and try to catch a few more hours of sleep when something he'd never felt before woke him up even more than the nightmare had.
It was a small push. Or a kick, he had no idea of which. But he could feel it; the signs of life suddenly making its appearance inside his stomach. A hand, driven by terrified curiosity, searched the spot where the movement had occurred, and Grissom jumped into the air as his careful push was repaid with a fierce shove. A rush of mixed emotions overwhelmed him as he received bump after bump against his palm. It was as if the tiny impostor inside him suddenly had decided to state its appearance, fed up with being ignored. Grissom forgot how to breathe. This was too much! He spent every single moment of the day suppressing the freak child he was carrying. How was he to do that if "this" continued?
He removed his hand and denied thinking about the tiny movements still fluttering around inside him. Tomorrow would be the end of this, he couldn't hold on any longer...
*-*
At eight o' clock in the morning Grissom stormed the office of Weisman for the second time since he'd started seeing him.
"It's over!" he stated firmly. "I won't be a part of this any longer! This "thing" that's been put inside me without my knowledge or permission has to be removed, today!"
Weisman had an irritatingly relaxed posture and he didn't even raise a brow at the dramatic entrance of his patient.
"I thought you had realized you don't have a choice in this?" he simply asked and folded his hands across his chest.
Grissom went over to the doctor's desk and leant forward to look the doctor straight in the eye.
"I'm freaking out, doc! I'm not built for this, neither physically nor mentally! You can't honestly sit there in your comfortable chair and pretend everything is just fine! I'm a man! This is unnatural! I never chose this, therefore I should have a choice whether I'll go through with it or not!"
"Do you *know* how many times I've heard that speech?" Weisman stated calmly. "Except from the fact that you are a man of course… Every damn week I get visits from desperate women who decides they're not up for the job. They discovered the pregnancy too late or their boyfriends or husbands have left them all alone with the responsibility. And you know what? Every single time I have to send them home, just as pregnant as when they came screaming into my office. Why? Because what they are carrying are human lives, Grissom. Both the law and my conscience forbids me to end a life that even if born early could have been saved."
Grissom's eyes became vivid.
"But you *can* in good conscience sit there and sentence these children to a life without love, as unwanted children? You have no problem judging them to a life in a world where no one is safe any more?! How can you be such a hypocrite?! Every day in this country babies with perfectly loving parents die. They die the most horrendous of deaths and their parents will forever live with the knowledge that their little one was ripped from them with no regards as to how loved and cherished she was. But you don't care, because you have a *concience*! You KNOW I never wanted this child, and that it very well might end up in a family where the father in the house rapes little babies just for fun. How the hell can you order me to bring a child into this sick world?!"
The smugness had disappeared from Weisman's face as Grissom's speech roared like thunder in the room. Finally a spark of empathy reached the doctor's heart as he saw the pain and fear in his patient's eyes.
"Listen," he said, gazing at his patient with kind eyes: "I can't destroy the child you are carrying. It's seven months along, if it had been born today it probably would have survived. But I *can* offer you this: you can pick the parents to adopt the child. That way you'll know what kind of folk they are and you can even stay in touch with them, if you want."
The man in front of him slowly backed away and sat down in a chair, looking exhausted.
"If that's all you have to offer then I guess I'll have to accept it…?"
*-*
He went to work early that day, as he didn't find the promise of an empty apartment and the haunting of old ghosts that tempting. He charged through the halls and straight into his office, thankfully avoiding the boss of the dayshift, Ecklie. On his desk the Melissa- case waited. The results from Renkin's DNA-test hadn't come back yet but Greg had written him a note, stating it would be in during the evening. There were also notes from Brass, regarding the interrogation of the Timmons-woman that had revealed nothing of interest, and a report from Catherine and Nick who had also ended up empty handed at the woman's apartment. There wasn't evidence there to be found, indicating that a baby had been kept there the last six months and they hadn't recovered any clothes or fabrics that could have been the source of the yellow fiber found on the baby. Basically they had nothing, except from a Sun Ultra bottle. But this sort of soap was to be found in thousands of homes around Vegas and wouldn't be much of an evidence in a courtroom.
Grissom removed his glasses and sighed. Down in his stomach butterfly- wings tickled his skin, and he remembered what Weisman had told him:
He could decide... He thought of the parents who'd recently lost their daughter the most brutal way imaginable, but immediately refused the idea. No. He was a forensic investigator, in charge of finding their daughter's murderer, not to replace the baby with one of his own! But it could have been an interesting conversation though…
Some sort of laughing lurked its way up his throat and the hoarse sounds upset both his ears and stomach. There was a sharp jolt of pain and then silence, no movements, nothing. Apparently the unborn child of Gil Grissom didn't fancy the subtle art of black humor.
*-*
Catherine and Sarah also showed up early for work this day, both of them eager to see the results of the DNA-test. If Renkin was guilty they could bag the most vicious case in their working careers.
They found Grissom in his office, sleeping with his chin resting on his chest.
"Oh, that poor thing!" Catherine awed motherly through giggles.
A peaceful expression rested on his face and with one hand sprawled across his tummy.
"He takes good care of it!" Sarah whispered to Catherine and pointed at Grissom's stomach, which made Catherine burst into poorly suppressed laughter.
"Yes, I have to admit he looks cute even with some extra padding!" she sniggered and dried tears from her eyes.
Grissom awoke with a snort. "What?! Where?" He shook his head and tried to determine where he was.
"Was it a nice nap?" Sarah asked, eyes sparkling of suppressed laughter, poking Catherine in the side to keep her quiet.
"Sarah… Catherine… what are you doing here… this early?" he jabbered after checking his wristwatch.
"Well, we heard about the sleeping beauty in your office and rushed straight over to kiss him awake!" Catherine said matter of factly.
"But it turned out to be you…!" Sarah finished, no longer able to hide her amusement.
A tired but honest smile erupted on Grissom's face.
"Thanks girls!"
*-*
While she and the rest of the CSI-team awaited the results from the sperm sample, Sarah decided to plunge deeper into the Melissa-case. Thanks to Internet there was no problem digging up media material from the case, and she'd already received tapes from several news stations, regarding the disappearing. The Stevens had made multiple appearances on TV up to a month after the kidnapping, and Sarah watched every tape with her eyes pealed. Tears, prayers and more prayers - the Stevens had begged and begged for their daughter to come back home.
She discovered nothing out of the ordinary, except from the couple's many appearances. It seemed like the parents had been quite busy crying their eyes out on every news channel there was? But that was no incriminating evidence of any kind. People handle stress differently, and the Stevens had obviously believed that if only they got through to whoever who took their daughter she would be returned to them, safe and sound.
Grissom popped his head in as she was rewinding the last tape.
"The results are in", he told her, pointing his thumb down the hall. "I thought you would like to be there when Greg hands me the results? Since we're partners and all?" A fragment of the boyish charm he possessed reeked through the worn and tired front.
Sarah smiled in return. "Sure partner, I'm coming!"
Sarah wasn't the only one showing up for the results. Everyone in the nightshift felt greatly involved in this case, and everyone hoped it would end here. Greg handed Grissom the file, his features expressionless. Grissom's eyes ran down the page, but were then shut in resign.
"I'm sorry guys, it's not a match."
The words rang like judgement day trumpets and the disappointment spread through the room, making the air too hard to breathe. They were back on scratch.
Author's Chapter Notes:
THIS IS A BIG FAT WARNING!!!!
The following chapter includes a terrible murdercase, where Grissom and Co starts working on the murdercase of a six months old baby. This is NOT a pleasant read! And for those of you who believe you might get upset reading this, please don't! It's not written to offend anybody, and I know it's a terrible subject- but what's worse, things like this do actually happen... And that makes me honestly believe some people don't deserve life! No one should get away with doing this to a child! (or to any one else for that sake)
Hope I didn't scare you all away, though.. :)
Oh, and just to let you know, in my country we haven't started on season three yet, we're only halfway through season two. I know Grissom goes through some pysichal changes in the current season, but as I haven't seen any of these episodes, as far as I'm concerned that never happened. Or at least not before this took place.
Hugs,
Restina -the cryptic one-