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10 March 2008 @ 07:24 pm
Bindings [CSI; Grissom/Catherine]  
TITLE: Bindings
PAIRING: Grissom/Catherine
SPOILERS: “What’s Eating Gilbert Grissom?” (5x06)
RATING: PG-13 for graphic imagery


“Hey, boss,” Nick’s Texan drawl greeted the graveshift supervisor on his way back into CSI, the two men striding down the halls toward each other. “How’d the investigation at that sex shop go?”

Grissom stopped in his tracks, one eyebrow making a slow arch above the other, amusement dancing in his eyes though his tone was stern. “A little louder, Nicky? I’m not so sure all the lab techs heard you.”

Nick glanced around at the handful of inquisitive stares they were receiving, and bowed his head sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Grissom shook his head in response, dismissing the apology along with the slip-up. “I didn’t find anything probative… except maybe this.” He held up the large plastic evidence bag, in which was a comic. An adult comic from the look of it, drawn with either charcoal or pencil… and appearing as if it were bound by an amateur.

"'Hot Blooded?'" Nick’s eyes scanned the title, narrowing slightly at the content of the comic.

Grissom nodded. “I’m bringing it to Sara to have her analyze the drawings. Have you seen Catherine?”

Nick jerked a thumb over his shoulder, in the general direction of the morgue. “She just finished up in autopsy with Doc Robbins. She said she was heading over to the campus to interview the girl’s roommate.”

Grissom nodded once more, and muttered a brief, “Thanks, Nicky,” before the men parted ways once more.


“The TV said you were looking for information on Kaitlin Rackish.”

Catherine nodded, flicking her strawberry-blonde bangs out of her eyes while she studied briefly a photo of the blonde victim and her roommate, both in bikinis, smiling on a beach in Somewhere, USA. “When was the last time you saw Kaitlin?” she asked, setting the photo back down on the nearby vanity table.

“Monday,” the brunette roommate, who’d introduced herself as Mandy Cooper, replied. “But I’ve been pledging, so I haven’t slept in the dorm the last couple nights. I just thought I kept missing her.”

“Can you tell me what the two of you did on Monday? All the details.”

After several more minutes talking with Kaitlin’s roommate, Catherine had everything she needed for the time being. Their suspect from the previous murders was back on the list: Cody Lewis, the art teacher.

She sighed disgustedly at the turn of events, shaking her head as she stalked down the path leading from Kaitlin’s dormitory. She gave her hair a toss, turning her head up to the dusky blue sky, momentarily noting the blend of blues from the deep sapphire of the eastern horizon, to the dusty periwinkle laced with pink on the western horizon.

The campus was deserted now; on a Friday night most inhabitants of the nearby dorms were off at parties, either at other dorm houses or the various fraternities and sororities sprinkled across the campus. A select few were on their way to the seven o’clock classes, readjusting their backpacks over their shoulders as they trudged with eyes downcast along often-trod routes.

Catherine’s hand fluttered out beside her almost instinctively, reaching for the nearby railing as she crossed the small creek separating two halves of the quad. Her hand glided along the smooth rail as she continued to stare at the ever-darkening sky, and the large trees towering above her… not noticing until she’d crossed the bridge that her fingers were wet.

Time seemed to freeze; every sound faded from her consciousness as her head bowed, almost in slow motion, to inspect what was on her hand. At the sight of blue staining the bulbs of her fingers, she drew in an inaudible breath, suddenly hearing her heartbeat thudding in the walls of her ears.

She glanced surreptitiously at her surroundings, catching sight of a couple ending what looked to be a sloppy kiss before simultaneously bending down and gathering their belongings, heading off toward who-knows-where, hand-in-hand. Again, Catherine glanced down at her hand, everything continuing to move in slow motion.

She brought her thumb to her fingers, rubbing the paint between them, as if testing the consistency. She smelled her fingers next, jerking back at the first scent of motor oil; her heart thudding even louder and more rapidly.

Her azure eyes, alight with a complex combination of fear and confidence, searched out a water fountain. As she walked over to it, she felt as if, for a moment, she was in the victim’s shoes; not knowing her life was about to be ended by the whimsy of some psychotic bastard.

Catherine watched as her foot pressed the pedal on the fountain, triggering an arcing stream of water. She placed her hands under the stream, feeling herself detaching from her body. Probably the last thought on these girls’ minds before their abductions is how to get this stupid paint off, she thought, a vertical crease appearing between her brows as she rubbed her hands together, trying in vain to wash away the slick blue coating on her fingertips.

When she was grabbed from behind, she was hardly surprised. Something was placed over her mouth and she detached from her body further. She almost watched outside herself as she lamely struggled against whoever had her in their grasp, inwardly reminding herself to leave a clue. Like last time, she thought bitterly, being reminded of an all-too-long drive in a silver sports car three years earlier.

She tilted her body to the side, knowing her attacker would mistake this as more struggling, while she listened for the sound of her cell phone hitting the pavement. Luckily, the plastic-on-concrete sound was lost amid the scuffle, and Catherine was able to nudge her phone up against the water fountain before her assailant forced her down the path, leading her… most likely… to her inevitable and inescapable demise.