Work Text:
humorous deathfic: I told her to get out of the way, it's not my fault she didn't listen.
by Josette Grover
"Greg, what happened?" Grissom asks, ducking under the crime scene and walking over to where a shaken Greg, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, sits on the back of an ambulance.
"We were processing the scene when a bike messenger came out of nowwhere, narrowly missing Sara." Greg says, eyes looking at the sheet covered body that Nick and Warrick are photographing. They look down at the body, their eyes haunted for a second before looking over at the young CSI talking to their boss.
"Okay, she was nearly hit by a bike messenger." Gil says, looking over the scene again. "What happened?"
"I called for backup to secure the scene better while Sara was still yelling at the bike messenger for nearly hitting her. Backup arrived, and I was taking measurements when I heard a loud thud. Looking up, I saw Sara lying against the curb, she'd been hit by another bike messenger." Greg says. "Funny thing is, Sara had been complaining about them all day, they were a menace on the road and should be outlawed."
"Where's the bike messenger?"
"He never even slowed down. The cops are chasing him now."
end