Month of Mayem fic ahoy! - What Happens in Vegas
Title: What Happens in Vegas (part 1/2)
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: CSI/IPS crossover
Pairing: Canon GSR and Catherine/Vartann. Mary and Marshall UST
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This wasn’t meant to be a first part. Two things happened. One, I ran out of time. So, siapom gets her marshals in Vegas. Two, I ended up being able to get out of town this weekend and I promised the girlfriend I wouldn’t take the laptop. So part two will come Monday. YAY IPS.
Like notes passed in class, under tables and behind speaker’s backs, Marshall heard rumor of a law enforcement only poker game, often attended by the Sherriff himself.
“I like the occasional game of chance,” he quipped as they navigated the pathways between the slot machines. It was an older casino, decked out with carpet that belonged more in the seventies than 2011. The waitresses wore skirts that came to mid thigh and bright blue scarves around their necks. Patrons pulled old slot levers and watched outdated pictures spin in the machine windows.
Yet, there was a sense of class that even the fancier, richer casinos seemed to lack. Navigating the floor to the private lounge was easier than it seemed and within moments he and Mary were standing at an old Oak door, carved in intricate patterns that Marshall was sure were meant to be dollar signs. He knocked three times, feeling slightly foolish and looking around the dark hallway for a camera that would give away his presence.
After a moment, a tall, leggy red head answered.
“We’re here for the game …” He stammered, nervously. Girls like her turned him into a gibbering idiot.
“Yeah, come on in. I’m Catherine.”
“Marshall and Mary.”
She nodded and stepped back, letting them into the dark, smoky room. There were six tables set, with players at each. He recognized a couple of the agents from New York and one from Utah. “You’re here with the feds conference, hmm?” Catherine tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah.” Mary answered, flipping her own hair over her shoulder.
Cathrine smiled and led them to the table at the back. She gestured to the two empty seats before sitting down herself. “And it’s only obvious from the way you guys carry yourselves.”
“It’s not because Catherine knows everything about Vegas or anything,” piped up an adorable brunette from the other side of the table. She had curly brown hair and bright brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth that made her seem much younger than her years.
Catherine smirked right back and then nodded around the table. “Captain Jim Brass of the Las Vegas Police Department. Greg Sanders and Sara Grissom of the forensics lab. And I’m Catherine Willows.”
Marshall started to stand to introduce himself and Mary to the poker players, but the brunette’s last name caught his attention and he focused on her. “Grissom? Are you by chance related to Dr. Gil Grissom?”
“I hope so,” Sara laughed and took a sip of her drink and a long drag off a cigarette, “I married him.”
Marshall’s mouth went dry and he had to stop himself from pouncing on her. “I am a huge fan of your husband’s work. His thoughts on forensic entomology are quite simply the most forward thinking in the business. I hate to impose, but I would love to meet him. Will he be here tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” Sara shook her head, “he’s elbow deep at a dig in Peru right now. But I’ll pass along the praise when I talk to him later.” Marshall nodded, dejected, and took his seat.
“Grissom being in Peru is the only reason Sara is allowed to smoke right now anyway.” Piped up Greg Sanders. It took a moment, but Marshall recognized him from the back of the dust jacket of the book on his shelf at home. He’d written one of the definitive histories of the crime families of Vegas. Jesus. This was what he was playing against tonight? All his poker skills be damned, he was going to get his ass kicked.
“Peru,” Mary finally spoke up and Marshall cringed at the tone in her voice. “And you’re here. Interesting.”
“Such is the nature of the research world. He’ll be back in Vegas in the next couple of weeks. There’s some convention of entomologists and they’re racing roaches.” She shuddered. “It’s a good thing he’s out of the country cause I don’t want those things in the house any longer than necessary.”
“Still, Peru …”
Sara rolled her eyes and offered a tight smile back to Mary. “You want to play or snark?” She took another drag off her cigarette and then offered a mostly full pack to Mary, who took one and lit it. “That’s what I thought.” The women shared a real smile this time.
Marshall turned his attention to Greg while Brass dealt the cards. “I read your book. It was a fascinating look at old Vegas.”
The younger man smiled. “Thanks! You’re one of a few who did read it.”
“Hey. Most of us did!” Jim chuckled. “Well, bought it anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Fifty buys you in.” Catherine happily collected his and Mary’s money and doled out the chips. Glancing around the table it was clear who was there to win and who was there to play. Sara’s pile of chips was definitely the highest and Marshall chuckled to himself. Anyone married to a guy who kept pet roaches had to have a good poker face.
***
Mary Shannon knew she was a damned good poker player, but Catherine and Sara were kicking everyone’s asses. She wasn’t as intrigued with Sara - brainy brunettes were really Marshall’s thing and anyone married to a guy who did what? Race pet roaches? Not her style. But Catherine was fascinating. There was something elegant about her, and it wasn’t just the designer clothes or the expensive jewelry or the fact that she was on her third vodka and coke of the night and she was still sober. No, maybe it was that. She needed more people in her life who could drink like that.
“I’m out.” Greg tossed his cards on the table and rose, collecting his meager pile of chips. “My supervisor scheduled me for lab work tonight.”
Catherine chuckled and waved. “See you later, Greg.”
“Night, boss.” Greg headed out, leaving the game short.
They were the last table left and Catherine took a final drag on a cigarette and stubbed it out. “One more round?”
Someone’s pager beeped. Captain Brass reached for his phone, checked the display, groaned. “I’m out. 419 out in Henderson. Sara …”
“Nick’s on call tonight. Page him.”
“Oh yeah.” The older cop rolled his eyes, collected his winnings, and walked away to cash in before heading out to the scene.
Mary smirked. The men around the table were thoroughly whipped.
“I think we’re short.” Catherine shrugged again. “Sara, you up for taking our US Marshal guests out for a drink?”
“I’m actually tired,” Marshall piped up. Mary wanted to slug him. It was Vegas and Marshall was tired?
“I’m good for it.”
“Mary, you have the car …”
Oh God, he was whining. The brat was whining. She loved him and hated him all at the same time.
Sara chuckled. “I’ll drive you back to your hotel, Marshall. That’s fine. Go on, Catherine. Take Mary around. I’ve got this one.”
Mary took back every snarky thing she’d thought about Sara during the game. The woman was a saint, and apparently knew how to deal with academic nerd like men who were wimpy beyond their years and thought that midnight was an acceptable time to go to bed when in Vegas.
“Thank you.” Marshall was blushing and Mary shook her head. The bastard. He just wanted to get Sara alone so he could pick her brain about her husband. Asshole.
***
“That,” Marshall chuckled as he finished cashing out, “was thoroughly enjoyable.”
Sara smiled and tucked her messenger bag over her shoulder. “It’s always a good release. Though, some nights you’ll get the Sherriff and taking it out on the lab director. That’s awkward.”
“We have our own poker games. Not quite as high stakes though. We play for orange slices some nights.”
Sara’s laugh was full and throaty, hoarse. He had the feeling she didn’t laugh a lot. “Catherine owns a good part of this casino,” Sara smirked, “she takes it seriously.”
“How does a crim own part of a casino? I mean, no offense to you guys who save field agent asses on a regular basis, but you also don’t make that much money.”
They were walking to the heavy doors now and Marshall held it open for Sara. The hallway was darker now and the light of the casino floor tantalizingly bright. “Catherine is Sam Braun’s only living child. She inherited everything when he was killed. Meaning, she inherited most of Vegas.”
“So let me get this straight. The Vegas CSI lab is home to Greg Sanders, who wrote one of the definitive books on Vegas history, the daughter of Sam Braun, and the wife of Gil Grissom?”
“Yup.”
“You sure we aren’t on a movie set or something?”
Sara replied with a smirk he was now used to. “You’ve been chomping at the bit to tour the lab. You want it?”
“I didn’t say anything about the lab.”
“You didn’t have to.” Sara was two steps ahead of him now as they walked through the casino. It was louder now, proving that Vegas was indeed a nocturnal town, designed late night play and debauchery. “You’ve been begging with your eyes since you sat down at the table.”
“I’m in.” Vegas had the busiest lab in the country. The Albuquerque lab had sent things to the Vegas lab to be processed one more than one occasion. Of course he wanted a tour.
***
Mary took a long drag off the cigar Catherine had sent for. They’d ended up at the Eclipse and after being escorted - ESCORTED - through the VIP area, they now sat in one of the private areas off the club on the top floor of the casino. Below them, the noise of the strip was only bright lights and the buzz of the wind through the buildings. Catherine sipped wine now, but Mary was quite happy to keep drinking. “You know, my father must have been the wrong kind of criminal. I’ve never had this kind of treatment.”
Catherine laughed softly at Mary’s comments and ordered up another round. “He was apparently in the wrong business.”
“You can say that again.” Mary shook her head. “This is nuts.”
“I still think that way. My mother doesn’t come down to the casinos much anymore. They remind her too much of my father.” A warm wind picked up, blowing Catherine’s hair across her face. Mary just stared at her, amazed that somehow, she could have something in common with a woman like this.
Then again, they had nothing in common. Catherine was the daughter of a casino mogul and a show girl. Mary was the daughter of a bank robber and a failed ballet dancer. Nope, nothing in common except law enforcement and legs that went all the way up.
Catherine really was beautiful.
“So, you dating anyone?”
A tall, handsome, silent waiter came by to refill glasses. Mary stared at her jack and coke for a moment before looking back at Catherine.
“Well,” the woman ran her finger along the edge of her glass. “Yes and no. He’s a good man, but when he learned the truth of who I am … he freaked out. Which made me freak out. So we’re back and forth.” She took a long sip of her wine and shook her head. “But Lou is a good man. Better than any of the assholes I’ve dated.” She smiled. “What about you?”
Mary shrugged, her mind back in Mexico for a moment. Faber was long gone, but the scars of the trip remained. Marshall had yet to forgive her, she knew. And if Sara Grissom wasn’t married, he’d probably be in bed with her by now. “I’m between idiots at the moment.”
“Really?” She tiled her head. “Cause I could have sworn you and Marshall …”
WHAT? Mary shook off the jolt. “Marshall? No. Not Marshall. He’s my best friend. He’s really my only friend. He’s … he’s not … no. Not Marshall.”
Did she protest too much?
Catherine laughed and changed the subject. “Do you have kids?”
“Oh god no.” Mary shuddered. “All most adults do is eat, sleep, and poop. I can’t imagine having that in your house for eighteen years.” She paused, having a feeling she’d just insulted the other woman. “You have kids?”
Catherine chuckled softly. “My daughter goes off to college next year.”
“Wow. You … really don’t look old enough.”
“Thank you.”
Mary stared at the lights on the strip for a long moment. “How did you do it? Growing up in a place like this and with the family you had …how’d you end up as a crim?”
Catherine’s laugh was high pitched and sweet. “Are you kidding? All I knew as a kid was that my mom used to be a show girl and that Sam Braun slept over a lot. I didn’t find out I was his daughter until I was an adult. To pay for college, I worked as a stripper.”
Mary choked on her drink. “Wait, a stripper?”
“Yeah. A real one, not some show girl nonsense. I shook my ass for the assholes every night and made a damned good living doing it.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Mary tried to recover from choking and ended up setting the drink and her cigar down. “Do you still dance?”
Catherine grinned and leaned forward with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Want to find out?”
Mary groaned. This wasn’t heading anywhere safe, but it could be heading somewhere fun.
***
As they pulled into a parking space at the garage for the CSI lab, Sara’s phone rang. “Excuse me,” she said, shaking her head. “But I have to take this.”
Marshall nodded and stepped out of the car, giving her privacy. Sara stepped with him, the iphone to her ear. “You’re on a plane tomorrow, right?” She sounded tired, as if she’d picked up the phone in the middle of a fight. “Gil, don’t do this. I’m … no, you don’t get a free pass on this one.” The car door slammed. Marshall looked for a hole to fall through. Listening to fights was not one of his favorite things. “Really. You’re on a plane tomorrow? Because we can’t afford another canceled flight and I already … No. Gilbert Grissom, I swear to God if you don’t show up at McCarran tomorrow, I’m leaving you for Greg.” Another pause. And then her shoulders softened and she started to laugh. “No, really. I mean it. And I’ll take half of what you own, including the cockroaches. Just to piss you off.” Sara winked over at Marshall and he relaxed, but he didn’t come any closer. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you too. Get some sleep, baby.”
She hung up and turned back to him and for a moment, Marshall cursed that she was married to one of the premiere scientists in the world and he was in love with his partner. If he’d had any kind of balls, he’d have gone with Mary and Catherine and waited until Mary was good and drunk and made his move. Instead, as much as he was charmed by Sara, he was with Sara, who would not, under any circumstances, sleep with him.
“Sorry about that. Sometimes my husband seems to forget there is more to being married than knowing that I’ll walk the dog at the end of the night. Come on, I’ll show you around the lab.”
“You don’t seem like a dog person.” Marshall followed her through the parking structure, suddenly aware of how she kept him on the inside and how she stayed away from the corners of the deck. It was more than good security awareness, she was watching herself and the shadows.
“We have a boxer named Hank. Big old slobbering lug who really belongs to Gil but he’s sweet.”
She was jumpy and making a beeline for the elevators. And then it hit him. “You’re Sara Sidle. You were abducted by Natalie Davis. I remember the reports going through the wires.” No wonder she hated parking garages. Natalie had taken her from one.
Sara stopped and sighed. “Yeah, that’s me.” She shrugged and hit the button on the elevator as they stepped up to the doors.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He was. He didn’t mean to be an idiot and make the pretty girl uncomfortable. It was kind of how he worked though. But Sara just smiled at him.
“I still don’t like car trunks or parking decks. But everything else … I survived it. Actually, one of my favorite places to be is the desert during a rain storm.” Her hand was suddenly warm on his arm. “You’re sweet, Marshall. It’s a pity Mary can’t see that.”
“What?” Marshall blinked. “What do you mean?” How had she been able to tell?
But Sara just laughed. “I was in love with my partner once too, you know.”
“And what happened?”
“I married him.” She winked and led him into the elevator.
TBC …
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: CSI/IPS crossover
Pairing: Canon GSR and Catherine/Vartann. Mary and Marshall UST
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This wasn’t meant to be a first part. Two things happened. One, I ran out of time. So, siapom gets her marshals in Vegas. Two, I ended up being able to get out of town this weekend and I promised the girlfriend I wouldn’t take the laptop. So part two will come Monday. YAY IPS.
Like notes passed in class, under tables and behind speaker’s backs, Marshall heard rumor of a law enforcement only poker game, often attended by the Sherriff himself.
“I like the occasional game of chance,” he quipped as they navigated the pathways between the slot machines. It was an older casino, decked out with carpet that belonged more in the seventies than 2011. The waitresses wore skirts that came to mid thigh and bright blue scarves around their necks. Patrons pulled old slot levers and watched outdated pictures spin in the machine windows.
Yet, there was a sense of class that even the fancier, richer casinos seemed to lack. Navigating the floor to the private lounge was easier than it seemed and within moments he and Mary were standing at an old Oak door, carved in intricate patterns that Marshall was sure were meant to be dollar signs. He knocked three times, feeling slightly foolish and looking around the dark hallway for a camera that would give away his presence.
After a moment, a tall, leggy red head answered.
“We’re here for the game …” He stammered, nervously. Girls like her turned him into a gibbering idiot.
“Yeah, come on in. I’m Catherine.”
“Marshall and Mary.”
She nodded and stepped back, letting them into the dark, smoky room. There were six tables set, with players at each. He recognized a couple of the agents from New York and one from Utah. “You’re here with the feds conference, hmm?” Catherine tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah.” Mary answered, flipping her own hair over her shoulder.
Cathrine smiled and led them to the table at the back. She gestured to the two empty seats before sitting down herself. “And it’s only obvious from the way you guys carry yourselves.”
“It’s not because Catherine knows everything about Vegas or anything,” piped up an adorable brunette from the other side of the table. She had curly brown hair and bright brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth that made her seem much younger than her years.
Catherine smirked right back and then nodded around the table. “Captain Jim Brass of the Las Vegas Police Department. Greg Sanders and Sara Grissom of the forensics lab. And I’m Catherine Willows.”
Marshall started to stand to introduce himself and Mary to the poker players, but the brunette’s last name caught his attention and he focused on her. “Grissom? Are you by chance related to Dr. Gil Grissom?”
“I hope so,” Sara laughed and took a sip of her drink and a long drag off a cigarette, “I married him.”
Marshall’s mouth went dry and he had to stop himself from pouncing on her. “I am a huge fan of your husband’s work. His thoughts on forensic entomology are quite simply the most forward thinking in the business. I hate to impose, but I would love to meet him. Will he be here tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” Sara shook her head, “he’s elbow deep at a dig in Peru right now. But I’ll pass along the praise when I talk to him later.” Marshall nodded, dejected, and took his seat.
“Grissom being in Peru is the only reason Sara is allowed to smoke right now anyway.” Piped up Greg Sanders. It took a moment, but Marshall recognized him from the back of the dust jacket of the book on his shelf at home. He’d written one of the definitive histories of the crime families of Vegas. Jesus. This was what he was playing against tonight? All his poker skills be damned, he was going to get his ass kicked.
“Peru,” Mary finally spoke up and Marshall cringed at the tone in her voice. “And you’re here. Interesting.”
“Such is the nature of the research world. He’ll be back in Vegas in the next couple of weeks. There’s some convention of entomologists and they’re racing roaches.” She shuddered. “It’s a good thing he’s out of the country cause I don’t want those things in the house any longer than necessary.”
“Still, Peru …”
Sara rolled her eyes and offered a tight smile back to Mary. “You want to play or snark?” She took another drag off her cigarette and then offered a mostly full pack to Mary, who took one and lit it. “That’s what I thought.” The women shared a real smile this time.
Marshall turned his attention to Greg while Brass dealt the cards. “I read your book. It was a fascinating look at old Vegas.”
The younger man smiled. “Thanks! You’re one of a few who did read it.”
“Hey. Most of us did!” Jim chuckled. “Well, bought it anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Fifty buys you in.” Catherine happily collected his and Mary’s money and doled out the chips. Glancing around the table it was clear who was there to win and who was there to play. Sara’s pile of chips was definitely the highest and Marshall chuckled to himself. Anyone married to a guy who kept pet roaches had to have a good poker face.
***
Mary Shannon knew she was a damned good poker player, but Catherine and Sara were kicking everyone’s asses. She wasn’t as intrigued with Sara - brainy brunettes were really Marshall’s thing and anyone married to a guy who did what? Race pet roaches? Not her style. But Catherine was fascinating. There was something elegant about her, and it wasn’t just the designer clothes or the expensive jewelry or the fact that she was on her third vodka and coke of the night and she was still sober. No, maybe it was that. She needed more people in her life who could drink like that.
“I’m out.” Greg tossed his cards on the table and rose, collecting his meager pile of chips. “My supervisor scheduled me for lab work tonight.”
Catherine chuckled and waved. “See you later, Greg.”
“Night, boss.” Greg headed out, leaving the game short.
They were the last table left and Catherine took a final drag on a cigarette and stubbed it out. “One more round?”
Someone’s pager beeped. Captain Brass reached for his phone, checked the display, groaned. “I’m out. 419 out in Henderson. Sara …”
“Nick’s on call tonight. Page him.”
“Oh yeah.” The older cop rolled his eyes, collected his winnings, and walked away to cash in before heading out to the scene.
Mary smirked. The men around the table were thoroughly whipped.
“I think we’re short.” Catherine shrugged again. “Sara, you up for taking our US Marshal guests out for a drink?”
“I’m actually tired,” Marshall piped up. Mary wanted to slug him. It was Vegas and Marshall was tired?
“I’m good for it.”
“Mary, you have the car …”
Oh God, he was whining. The brat was whining. She loved him and hated him all at the same time.
Sara chuckled. “I’ll drive you back to your hotel, Marshall. That’s fine. Go on, Catherine. Take Mary around. I’ve got this one.”
Mary took back every snarky thing she’d thought about Sara during the game. The woman was a saint, and apparently knew how to deal with academic nerd like men who were wimpy beyond their years and thought that midnight was an acceptable time to go to bed when in Vegas.
“Thank you.” Marshall was blushing and Mary shook her head. The bastard. He just wanted to get Sara alone so he could pick her brain about her husband. Asshole.
***
“That,” Marshall chuckled as he finished cashing out, “was thoroughly enjoyable.”
Sara smiled and tucked her messenger bag over her shoulder. “It’s always a good release. Though, some nights you’ll get the Sherriff and taking it out on the lab director. That’s awkward.”
“We have our own poker games. Not quite as high stakes though. We play for orange slices some nights.”
Sara’s laugh was full and throaty, hoarse. He had the feeling she didn’t laugh a lot. “Catherine owns a good part of this casino,” Sara smirked, “she takes it seriously.”
“How does a crim own part of a casino? I mean, no offense to you guys who save field agent asses on a regular basis, but you also don’t make that much money.”
They were walking to the heavy doors now and Marshall held it open for Sara. The hallway was darker now and the light of the casino floor tantalizingly bright. “Catherine is Sam Braun’s only living child. She inherited everything when he was killed. Meaning, she inherited most of Vegas.”
“So let me get this straight. The Vegas CSI lab is home to Greg Sanders, who wrote one of the definitive books on Vegas history, the daughter of Sam Braun, and the wife of Gil Grissom?”
“Yup.”
“You sure we aren’t on a movie set or something?”
Sara replied with a smirk he was now used to. “You’ve been chomping at the bit to tour the lab. You want it?”
“I didn’t say anything about the lab.”
“You didn’t have to.” Sara was two steps ahead of him now as they walked through the casino. It was louder now, proving that Vegas was indeed a nocturnal town, designed late night play and debauchery. “You’ve been begging with your eyes since you sat down at the table.”
“I’m in.” Vegas had the busiest lab in the country. The Albuquerque lab had sent things to the Vegas lab to be processed one more than one occasion. Of course he wanted a tour.
***
Mary took a long drag off the cigar Catherine had sent for. They’d ended up at the Eclipse and after being escorted - ESCORTED - through the VIP area, they now sat in one of the private areas off the club on the top floor of the casino. Below them, the noise of the strip was only bright lights and the buzz of the wind through the buildings. Catherine sipped wine now, but Mary was quite happy to keep drinking. “You know, my father must have been the wrong kind of criminal. I’ve never had this kind of treatment.”
Catherine laughed softly at Mary’s comments and ordered up another round. “He was apparently in the wrong business.”
“You can say that again.” Mary shook her head. “This is nuts.”
“I still think that way. My mother doesn’t come down to the casinos much anymore. They remind her too much of my father.” A warm wind picked up, blowing Catherine’s hair across her face. Mary just stared at her, amazed that somehow, she could have something in common with a woman like this.
Then again, they had nothing in common. Catherine was the daughter of a casino mogul and a show girl. Mary was the daughter of a bank robber and a failed ballet dancer. Nope, nothing in common except law enforcement and legs that went all the way up.
Catherine really was beautiful.
“So, you dating anyone?”
A tall, handsome, silent waiter came by to refill glasses. Mary stared at her jack and coke for a moment before looking back at Catherine.
“Well,” the woman ran her finger along the edge of her glass. “Yes and no. He’s a good man, but when he learned the truth of who I am … he freaked out. Which made me freak out. So we’re back and forth.” She took a long sip of her wine and shook her head. “But Lou is a good man. Better than any of the assholes I’ve dated.” She smiled. “What about you?”
Mary shrugged, her mind back in Mexico for a moment. Faber was long gone, but the scars of the trip remained. Marshall had yet to forgive her, she knew. And if Sara Grissom wasn’t married, he’d probably be in bed with her by now. “I’m between idiots at the moment.”
“Really?” She tiled her head. “Cause I could have sworn you and Marshall …”
WHAT? Mary shook off the jolt. “Marshall? No. Not Marshall. He’s my best friend. He’s really my only friend. He’s … he’s not … no. Not Marshall.”
Did she protest too much?
Catherine laughed and changed the subject. “Do you have kids?”
“Oh god no.” Mary shuddered. “All most adults do is eat, sleep, and poop. I can’t imagine having that in your house for eighteen years.” She paused, having a feeling she’d just insulted the other woman. “You have kids?”
Catherine chuckled softly. “My daughter goes off to college next year.”
“Wow. You … really don’t look old enough.”
“Thank you.”
Mary stared at the lights on the strip for a long moment. “How did you do it? Growing up in a place like this and with the family you had …how’d you end up as a crim?”
Catherine’s laugh was high pitched and sweet. “Are you kidding? All I knew as a kid was that my mom used to be a show girl and that Sam Braun slept over a lot. I didn’t find out I was his daughter until I was an adult. To pay for college, I worked as a stripper.”
Mary choked on her drink. “Wait, a stripper?”
“Yeah. A real one, not some show girl nonsense. I shook my ass for the assholes every night and made a damned good living doing it.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Mary tried to recover from choking and ended up setting the drink and her cigar down. “Do you still dance?”
Catherine grinned and leaned forward with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Want to find out?”
Mary groaned. This wasn’t heading anywhere safe, but it could be heading somewhere fun.
***
As they pulled into a parking space at the garage for the CSI lab, Sara’s phone rang. “Excuse me,” she said, shaking her head. “But I have to take this.”
Marshall nodded and stepped out of the car, giving her privacy. Sara stepped with him, the iphone to her ear. “You’re on a plane tomorrow, right?” She sounded tired, as if she’d picked up the phone in the middle of a fight. “Gil, don’t do this. I’m … no, you don’t get a free pass on this one.” The car door slammed. Marshall looked for a hole to fall through. Listening to fights was not one of his favorite things. “Really. You’re on a plane tomorrow? Because we can’t afford another canceled flight and I already … No. Gilbert Grissom, I swear to God if you don’t show up at McCarran tomorrow, I’m leaving you for Greg.” Another pause. And then her shoulders softened and she started to laugh. “No, really. I mean it. And I’ll take half of what you own, including the cockroaches. Just to piss you off.” Sara winked over at Marshall and he relaxed, but he didn’t come any closer. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you too. Get some sleep, baby.”
She hung up and turned back to him and for a moment, Marshall cursed that she was married to one of the premiere scientists in the world and he was in love with his partner. If he’d had any kind of balls, he’d have gone with Mary and Catherine and waited until Mary was good and drunk and made his move. Instead, as much as he was charmed by Sara, he was with Sara, who would not, under any circumstances, sleep with him.
“Sorry about that. Sometimes my husband seems to forget there is more to being married than knowing that I’ll walk the dog at the end of the night. Come on, I’ll show you around the lab.”
“You don’t seem like a dog person.” Marshall followed her through the parking structure, suddenly aware of how she kept him on the inside and how she stayed away from the corners of the deck. It was more than good security awareness, she was watching herself and the shadows.
“We have a boxer named Hank. Big old slobbering lug who really belongs to Gil but he’s sweet.”
She was jumpy and making a beeline for the elevators. And then it hit him. “You’re Sara Sidle. You were abducted by Natalie Davis. I remember the reports going through the wires.” No wonder she hated parking garages. Natalie had taken her from one.
Sara stopped and sighed. “Yeah, that’s me.” She shrugged and hit the button on the elevator as they stepped up to the doors.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He was. He didn’t mean to be an idiot and make the pretty girl uncomfortable. It was kind of how he worked though. But Sara just smiled at him.
“I still don’t like car trunks or parking decks. But everything else … I survived it. Actually, one of my favorite places to be is the desert during a rain storm.” Her hand was suddenly warm on his arm. “You’re sweet, Marshall. It’s a pity Mary can’t see that.”
“What?” Marshall blinked. “What do you mean?” How had she been able to tell?
But Sara just laughed. “I was in love with my partner once too, you know.”
“And what happened?”
“I married him.” She winked and led him into the elevator.
TBC …