Part 3/? <><><><><> Sara finally found what she had been looking for. The old church stood on its own, out in the middle of a dusty paddock. The white-washed weatherboard building was freshly painted; obviously someone still attended to its upkeep. Arched stain-glassed windows faced the dirt road and dark, solid oak arched doors protected the inner reliquary. Pulling the SUV to a stop, Sara turned off the engine, her hand remaining on the keys as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Already, she could feel the rapid beating of her heart begin to settle down and the painful, thick lump constricting her throat begin to release. This scene had some familiarity, provided some connection to the sanctuary she had always sought in San Francisco; the peacefulness and solitude that enabled her to take time to gain perspective. Hopping out into the rain, she walked past the church, heading out beyond the building into the field behind it. Old fashioned wrought iron fencing surrounded a large area, segregating it from the old church out front yet joining all that remained within. Moving slowly through the gate, the disused hinges grating loudly in protest, Sara walked reverently between the heavy, dark grey headstones. She took time to read each obituary to a life that was lost to the living; a testimony to love, disease, war and life itself. Families torn apart and reunited once again in death. Losing herself in the images of the past, she allowed time to evaporate. While the church was well kept, the graveyard was the opposite. Each grave was overgrown with weeds. Some of the headstones hard to read, the harsh, wild weather of time taking a toll on the chiselled stone. Sara found herself automatically pulling the tough weeds from around each grave as she read the inscription, the rain helping the ground release its grip on the roots. The tedious work occupied her hands while her mind extrapolated life stories from the small snippets of information gleaned from the headstone. Time and the manual labour dispelled the anxiety that had filled her, giving her a chance to do some internal brick-laying once again. <><><><><> Sara arrived at the CSI building with only ten minutes to spare before her shift. Her clothes were still drenched and muddy. A miscalculation in the time it would take to get back from the cemetery not allowing for her to go home, have a shower and change. She was grateful that she always kept a spare set of clothing in her locker for those days when bodies suddenly expelled unexpected foreign material that impregnated the clothes. Tossing her handbag over her shoulder, Sara went directly to the locker room to get her change of clothing, avoiding eye contact with anyone who happened to pass her along the way. Only Warrick was in the room, changing his shirt. He swivelled his head in her direction as she entered the room, noting her bedraggled appearance. "What did you do, walk to work?" Sara had hoped that no one would be in the locker room, but she had been prepared for it. She wasn't about to tell anyone how she had spent the day. "Flat tyre. No guy would stop to help," Sara offered blandly in explanation as she passed by Warrick to get to her own locker. She was grateful that the rain had continued to fall or otherwise her lie would not have washed with him. "Do you blame him if you were wearing that expression on your face." "Thanks, Warrick. When you're wet and muddy, let's see what expression you wear on your face." "Actually, I've experienced the wet part and it's rather unpleasant. Cheer up, the day can only get better," Warrick remarked, thinking back to his recent experience with the pool at Portia Richmond's mansion. He gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder for support. As he was about to leave the room, he swung around to face Sara. "By the way, Grissom was looking for you. Said he'd paged you." Sara frowned. Pulling her pager from her hip, she cursed herself inwardly, turning the pager on as she did so. She had turned it off before heading into the Haven View Centre and had forgotten to turn it back on when she had left. "Unusual for you to miss an opportunity to work, particularly with Grissom," Warrick commented, curious as to why Sara had not answered her page. He got no answer. Sara only slammed the door to her locker, avoided Warrick's inquisitive gaze as she pushed past him and went to get changed. As she left the room, Sara almost collided with Nick. He moved sideways, out of her way, the moment he witnessed the determined look on her face. Nick watched as she strode away, purpose in her stride, her head bowed down. "What's up with Sara? Why is she soaked?" "Two folded anger - annoyance; whatever you want to call it.. She had to change the tyre on her SUV in the rain and also missed a page from Grissom. I'd imagine she's wondering what wonderful case she missed." However, Warrick wasn't so sure it was that simple. From what little he had gleaned about Sara since she had arrived in Las Vegas, he knew she was ambitious and intelligent. She expected a high standard from those around her, but expected even more so from herself. Her interests outside of CSI were nil and she has a propensity to do overtime at the drop of a hat. For Sara to have turned off her pager there had to be something going on. As to what, he had no idea. Warrick wasn't even sure he wanted to find out, knowing how protective Sara was of her personal life. But concern for his colleague had him intrigued enough to pursue it further. "That would drive her crazy. Changed her tyre in the rain, huh? What I wouldn't pay to have seen that." "Man, I don't think you'd want to be close when she was changing a tyre. You'd never know what direction she'd throw the tyre iron in her current mood." "True, so true," Nick responded. "Hey, I hope I won't be having Miss Sunshine tonight. If I do, I may just need to take up Greg's offer of a valium or two." Warrick laughed as they made their way down to the break room cum briefing room. Catherine and Grissom were already there, seated at the able. They were in deep discussion which stopped as soon as they entered the room. "Have you seen Sara?" Grissom asked as the two men walked into the room, gripping his cup of coffee tightly. "Yeah, Grissom." Warrick confirmed, sitting down on the couch. "She's getting changed. She got a flat tyre on the way here and ended up having to change it in the rain." Catherine raised her eyebrows. She looked across at Grissom and sent him a silent message to tread carefully and not make any assumptions. "Really?" "Okay, here are the assignments. Catherine, a 428. Victim is at University Medical Centre." Catherine sighed as she took the piece of paper. These type of cases were not how she liked to start the day. "Nick - 419. Body was found at Cave Rock." "On my own? Yes!" Nick responded gleefully. "No," contradicted Grissom as he handed over the assignment. " Sara will be working with you when she gets here." "Damn," Nick muttered under his breath. "What?" Grissom looked up from the last piece of paper in his hand, raising his eyebrows to query Nick's obvious displeasure. "Nothing, Just you haven't had the pleasure of Sara's wonderful mood. It's going to be a blast working with her." Nick walked out of the room in search of his assigned partner, grumbling under his breath about how a certain snarky CSI should get a bit more sleep. Grissom and Catherine exchanged glances. Taking on the role of head of the graveyard shift had not been Grissom's personal choice and with the current state of affairs, he knew why he had never aspired to the position. "Warrick, you're with me. Murder-suicide. Sunrise Manor." Catherine gave Grissom a pointed look, obviously wanting to say something to him but refraining from doing so in front of her colleagues. "Go ahead, Warrick. I'll be with you in a moment." Grissom handed Warrick the assignment sheet, before leaning back against the bank of cupboards. "You're avoiding her already." "Cath, a murder-suicide is not what she needs to be working on right now, particularly not this one." Grissom knew a few of the finer details of the case. It wasn't simply two people involved in the murder-suicide but an entire family. Would Sara cope with it after the pressure she had placed herself under on the Pamela Adler case? Personally, he didn't want to find out. "I disagree. It will give you an opening. And if she doesn't cope, you'll be there. It'll be safer than sending her out with Nick." "Or do you mean safer for Nick." "Look Gil, you've got a situation and you've got to do something about it. Now, not next week. It might be too late by then." End Part 3/?