TITLE: Investigating the Magic
AUTHOR: Devanie Maxwell
RATING: R for graphic images and disillusionment.
CATEGORY: SAH, G/S UST/potential R
SPOILERS: Slight season one and two, small reference to Burden of
Proof
SUMMARY: When Grissom and Sara work a case in the most improbable of
locales they uncover secrets about it and each other.
DISCLAIMER: There is absolutely no way this would ever be an episode.
I felt I had to write it myself. Grissom and Sara belong to Alliance-
Atlantis, CBS, and each other. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: There are times in life when you have an idea so
ridiculous that you should discard it immediately; this was one of
those times. However, rather than heeding my internal alarm I
continued undaunted. The following story is based on a true incident
that I know way too much about. Most of the accounts and details in
this story are factual. I took artistic license with the "twist" of
plot. I love Walt Disney World and mean no disrespect. However, there
are a lot of fascinating stories to be told and I wanted my two
favorite characters to explore this one. :-) I hope you enjoy. Thanks
to Alison for all of her help, Amber/Minttown1 for motivating me,
Midnight Caller for telling me that it doesn't totally suck, and Andi
for being one of my best friends of life. This one is for you!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter One
"Have you ever been to Disney World?"
Sara regarded Grissom from her chair across from him and lifted an
eyebrow. It was hard to tell whether it was a legitimate question or
a riddle. Taking a chance on the former she answered honestly. "No."
She watched as Grissom shuffled papers around on his desk before
settling his attention on a brown folder. When he didn't follow up on
his original question she waited several moments in silence before
clearing her throat. "Grissom?"
He slid a sheet of paper toward her without looking up from his
notes. Sara grabbed the letter and surveyed its contents. "You're
kidding." It was a statement, not a question.
"No. A friend of mine at the Orange County Sheriffs' Department
contacted me last night. His name is Steve Pewter; he heads up the
lab there. I knew him from when we both worked in LA. Anyway, he
called me about a possible homicide that took place three days ago in
one of the parks. There are some entomological aspects of the case
that make it interesting."
Sara nodded. "And he called you and not one of the other fourteen
specialists because..."
He had expected the question. "First, I'm a friend. He knows my work.
Second, Disney has been fairly accommodating to the investigation on
the terms that this stays as under the radar as possible. They
requested that if the case required an extended investigation that
any specialized law enforcement come from an as outside source as
possible. Less potential for leaks that way."
"I see." Sara paused a moment. "But why the secrecy?"
"Since 1971 there have only been seven "official" deaths on Walt
Disney World property. Fewer than that have been recorded as
suspicious."
"How is that possible? They've had millions of visitors. Probability
alone..."
Grissom nodded, cutting her off. "They have a strong relationship
with the local press and a long-standing policy of waiting until
outside property lines to pronounce death. Only a technicality, but
it's legal. Disney operates much like a city; they have their own
government. The only thing that keeps them from annexing themselves
is that they don't want or need to operate their own school system.
So, they have their own paramedics and fire rescue operated under the
auspices of the Reedy Creek Improvement District."
"Wow. Is there something about this death that makes it worthy of
special attention?" Sara asked, processing the information.
Grissom reached into the folder and slid out several black and white
photographs. He handed them to her and watched as she paled visibly.
"Oh my God." She breathed as she looked at the images. They were
autopsy photos of what appeared to be a young male, his face quite
literally split in two. A deep crevice separated his features
horizontally, essentially crushing his skull and giving the
appearance of a partial decapitation. Sara stared, transfixed, until
Grissom continued.
"Josh Holland, twenty-six year old vacationing from Cartersville,
Georgia. The body was found on the tracks of the Tomorrowland Transit
Authority inside the Magic Kingdom. Someone working at the attraction
shortly after the park closed found it. Based on early scene analysis
by the locals they felt it was an accident, that he simply fell in
front of the other train."
"But now they've found something to contradict that?" Sara asked,
clearly intrigued.
"The body was found on the section of track where it was least likely
to be discovered; it was inside Space Mountain where the darkness and
noise from the ride would provide a pretty effective hiding space."
Grissom looked almost excited by the prospect of this case' Sara was
pretty sure she knew why.
"So, where do your friends come in?" She asked, knowing what was
ahead.
Grissom was ready for the question. "Do you want the Latin version?"
"Try me." Sara said with a quick grin.
"Dendroctonus terebrans." He didn't continue and Sara knew what was
expected.
She sighed and looked around his office as if the walls would give
her the answer. Her own interest in entomology came mostly from
Grissom's enthusiasm on the subject. "Dendro..." She broke it down in
her head. She hit the arm of the chair as the name came to her. "Pine
Bark Beetle!" She exclaimed, vindicated.
"Very good." Grissom smiled. "Or the Black Turpentine Beetle. It's a
native of Florida that feeds on the inside of pine trees and
typically lives near the water. Three of them were found on the vic."
"Inside a theme park in a concrete structure fifty feet above the
ground." Sara added, scanning the report.
"Right." He pushed what appeared to be an airline boarding pass
toward her. "Go home, pack a suitcase, and meet me at the gate at
seven."
Sara stared at him. This was more than just a little surreal. "It's
just you and me?"
"The lab can't spare more than one other person. We'll be working in
consult with the Orange County team." Grissom watched Sara, who
seemed almost confused.
"Why me?"
"Why not you?" He answered, his face expressionless.
Sara considered him a moment and then shrugged. "Seven?"
Grissom nodded and watched her leave. She had been his first choice.
She had a natural enthusiasm for the more atypical cases and was
probably the brightest when it came to deduction. He also wanted to
give her some time outside the lab. She hadn't taken any time off
since he had called her to Vegas; she could use the change of
scenery. His motives weren't purely selfless, however. They had just
started to move in a forward direction again after the strain of her
leave of absence request earlier in the year. He was anxious to spend
more time with her, not because of whatever the thing was that was
growing between them, but simply because he wanted to. It was a hard
feeling for him to reconcile.
Three Hours Later
Sara pushed her way down the narrow aisle behind Grissom, wincing as
the passenger behind her slammed a carry-on bag into the back of her
calves. The movement shoved her forward into Grissom, who turned his
head to see what the commotion was.
"I hate people." Sara stated through gritted teeth.
Grissom simply smiled and motioned to their seats. After lifting his
bag and her backpack into the overhead, he stood back to let her in
next to the window.
"Can I have the aisle?" Sara asked.
"You don't want the window?" Grissom was surprised.
"I don't like to look out. Besides, I'm almost as tall as you."
"That's not the..." Grissom was cut off by the voice of the man
behind Sara.
"I'd like to get to my seat, please."
Grissom watched Sara's face and recognized the warning signs. He
grabbed her arm and pulled her into their row behind him. She scowled
and sat down, arms crossed. He looked on in thinly veiled amusement.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, tried to keep her own
smile in check, and lost. Grissom was relieved to see that; the
thought of spending four hours to a cranky Sara was less than
appealing. "Better?"
"No."
Grissom nodded and clasped his seat belt; Sara followed suit as the
plane started to taxi down the runway. Grissom listened absently to
the flight attendant's instructions about what to do in the event of
a water landing. He noticed Sara watching with rapt interest. He
noticed her right hand clutching the armrest, her knuckles
white. "Sara?"
"Mmmm?" Her eyes not leaving the woman at the front of the plane
demonstrating how to inflate a Day-Glo orange life preserver.
"Are you afraid of flying? I didn't think you were afraid of
anything."
She turned to him. "I'm not. Except flying."
"And bees." He reminded.
"I'm not afraid of bees; I just hate them."
Grissom left that alone. He watched as her fingers drummed nervously
against the top of her thigh. "So you, Sara "Mile-High Club" Sidle,
are afraid to fly."
If he was trying to distract her it was working. "That...that was
less a product of desire and more a product of the five little
bottles of airline rum I drank to forget where I was."
"Oh."
"But it's okay. I took something right before we got on the plane.
I'll probably sleep through most of the flight if that's okay." She
already looked a little glazed.
"That's fine." He was vaguely aware of the lift as the plane took
off. Sara's eyes were closed and she was reciting something softly.
Grissom couldn't help but smirk. "Is that the periodic table?"
She lifted her lids slowly and turned slightly toward him. "Hey, it
helps."
He smiled and shook his head. "So, are you looking forward to the
case?"
Sara yawned. "Yeah, nothing makes a trip to Disney World more special
than a decapitation."
"It could be a simple Vegas decapitation."
"True. Do I get mouse ears?" She was nearly asleep now.
"With your own money."
"Fine." Grissom watched as her head started to dip and finally rested
on his shoulder. He reached forward and took the in-flight magazine
from its pocket and found the crossword page. It was going to be a
long trip.
---------------------------
TBC in Chapter Two
AUTHOR: Devanie Maxwell
RATING: R for graphic images and disillusionment.
CATEGORY: SAH, G/S UST/potential R
SPOILERS: Slight season one and two, small reference to Burden of
Proof
SUMMARY: When Grissom and Sara work a case in the most improbable of
locales they uncover secrets about it and each other.
DISCLAIMER: There is absolutely no way this would ever be an episode.
I felt I had to write it myself. Grissom and Sara belong to Alliance-
Atlantis, CBS, and each other. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: There are times in life when you have an idea so
ridiculous that you should discard it immediately; this was one of
those times. However, rather than heeding my internal alarm I
continued undaunted. The following story is based on a true incident
that I know way too much about. Most of the accounts and details in
this story are factual. I took artistic license with the "twist" of
plot. I love Walt Disney World and mean no disrespect. However, there
are a lot of fascinating stories to be told and I wanted my two
favorite characters to explore this one. :-) I hope you enjoy. Thanks
to Alison for all of her help, Amber/Minttown1 for motivating me,
Midnight Caller for telling me that it doesn't totally suck, and Andi
for being one of my best friends of life. This one is for you!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter One
"Have you ever been to Disney World?"
Sara regarded Grissom from her chair across from him and lifted an
eyebrow. It was hard to tell whether it was a legitimate question or
a riddle. Taking a chance on the former she answered honestly. "No."
She watched as Grissom shuffled papers around on his desk before
settling his attention on a brown folder. When he didn't follow up on
his original question she waited several moments in silence before
clearing her throat. "Grissom?"
He slid a sheet of paper toward her without looking up from his
notes. Sara grabbed the letter and surveyed its contents. "You're
kidding." It was a statement, not a question.
"No. A friend of mine at the Orange County Sheriffs' Department
contacted me last night. His name is Steve Pewter; he heads up the
lab there. I knew him from when we both worked in LA. Anyway, he
called me about a possible homicide that took place three days ago in
one of the parks. There are some entomological aspects of the case
that make it interesting."
Sara nodded. "And he called you and not one of the other fourteen
specialists because..."
He had expected the question. "First, I'm a friend. He knows my work.
Second, Disney has been fairly accommodating to the investigation on
the terms that this stays as under the radar as possible. They
requested that if the case required an extended investigation that
any specialized law enforcement come from an as outside source as
possible. Less potential for leaks that way."
"I see." Sara paused a moment. "But why the secrecy?"
"Since 1971 there have only been seven "official" deaths on Walt
Disney World property. Fewer than that have been recorded as
suspicious."
"How is that possible? They've had millions of visitors. Probability
alone..."
Grissom nodded, cutting her off. "They have a strong relationship
with the local press and a long-standing policy of waiting until
outside property lines to pronounce death. Only a technicality, but
it's legal. Disney operates much like a city; they have their own
government. The only thing that keeps them from annexing themselves
is that they don't want or need to operate their own school system.
So, they have their own paramedics and fire rescue operated under the
auspices of the Reedy Creek Improvement District."
"Wow. Is there something about this death that makes it worthy of
special attention?" Sara asked, processing the information.
Grissom reached into the folder and slid out several black and white
photographs. He handed them to her and watched as she paled visibly.
"Oh my God." She breathed as she looked at the images. They were
autopsy photos of what appeared to be a young male, his face quite
literally split in two. A deep crevice separated his features
horizontally, essentially crushing his skull and giving the
appearance of a partial decapitation. Sara stared, transfixed, until
Grissom continued.
"Josh Holland, twenty-six year old vacationing from Cartersville,
Georgia. The body was found on the tracks of the Tomorrowland Transit
Authority inside the Magic Kingdom. Someone working at the attraction
shortly after the park closed found it. Based on early scene analysis
by the locals they felt it was an accident, that he simply fell in
front of the other train."
"But now they've found something to contradict that?" Sara asked,
clearly intrigued.
"The body was found on the section of track where it was least likely
to be discovered; it was inside Space Mountain where the darkness and
noise from the ride would provide a pretty effective hiding space."
Grissom looked almost excited by the prospect of this case' Sara was
pretty sure she knew why.
"So, where do your friends come in?" She asked, knowing what was
ahead.
Grissom was ready for the question. "Do you want the Latin version?"
"Try me." Sara said with a quick grin.
"Dendroctonus terebrans." He didn't continue and Sara knew what was
expected.
She sighed and looked around his office as if the walls would give
her the answer. Her own interest in entomology came mostly from
Grissom's enthusiasm on the subject. "Dendro..." She broke it down in
her head. She hit the arm of the chair as the name came to her. "Pine
Bark Beetle!" She exclaimed, vindicated.
"Very good." Grissom smiled. "Or the Black Turpentine Beetle. It's a
native of Florida that feeds on the inside of pine trees and
typically lives near the water. Three of them were found on the vic."
"Inside a theme park in a concrete structure fifty feet above the
ground." Sara added, scanning the report.
"Right." He pushed what appeared to be an airline boarding pass
toward her. "Go home, pack a suitcase, and meet me at the gate at
seven."
Sara stared at him. This was more than just a little surreal. "It's
just you and me?"
"The lab can't spare more than one other person. We'll be working in
consult with the Orange County team." Grissom watched Sara, who
seemed almost confused.
"Why me?"
"Why not you?" He answered, his face expressionless.
Sara considered him a moment and then shrugged. "Seven?"
Grissom nodded and watched her leave. She had been his first choice.
She had a natural enthusiasm for the more atypical cases and was
probably the brightest when it came to deduction. He also wanted to
give her some time outside the lab. She hadn't taken any time off
since he had called her to Vegas; she could use the change of
scenery. His motives weren't purely selfless, however. They had just
started to move in a forward direction again after the strain of her
leave of absence request earlier in the year. He was anxious to spend
more time with her, not because of whatever the thing was that was
growing between them, but simply because he wanted to. It was a hard
feeling for him to reconcile.
Three Hours Later
Sara pushed her way down the narrow aisle behind Grissom, wincing as
the passenger behind her slammed a carry-on bag into the back of her
calves. The movement shoved her forward into Grissom, who turned his
head to see what the commotion was.
"I hate people." Sara stated through gritted teeth.
Grissom simply smiled and motioned to their seats. After lifting his
bag and her backpack into the overhead, he stood back to let her in
next to the window.
"Can I have the aisle?" Sara asked.
"You don't want the window?" Grissom was surprised.
"I don't like to look out. Besides, I'm almost as tall as you."
"That's not the..." Grissom was cut off by the voice of the man
behind Sara.
"I'd like to get to my seat, please."
Grissom watched Sara's face and recognized the warning signs. He
grabbed her arm and pulled her into their row behind him. She scowled
and sat down, arms crossed. He looked on in thinly veiled amusement.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, tried to keep her own
smile in check, and lost. Grissom was relieved to see that; the
thought of spending four hours to a cranky Sara was less than
appealing. "Better?"
"No."
Grissom nodded and clasped his seat belt; Sara followed suit as the
plane started to taxi down the runway. Grissom listened absently to
the flight attendant's instructions about what to do in the event of
a water landing. He noticed Sara watching with rapt interest. He
noticed her right hand clutching the armrest, her knuckles
white. "Sara?"
"Mmmm?" Her eyes not leaving the woman at the front of the plane
demonstrating how to inflate a Day-Glo orange life preserver.
"Are you afraid of flying? I didn't think you were afraid of
anything."
She turned to him. "I'm not. Except flying."
"And bees." He reminded.
"I'm not afraid of bees; I just hate them."
Grissom left that alone. He watched as her fingers drummed nervously
against the top of her thigh. "So you, Sara "Mile-High Club" Sidle,
are afraid to fly."
If he was trying to distract her it was working. "That...that was
less a product of desire and more a product of the five little
bottles of airline rum I drank to forget where I was."
"Oh."
"But it's okay. I took something right before we got on the plane.
I'll probably sleep through most of the flight if that's okay." She
already looked a little glazed.
"That's fine." He was vaguely aware of the lift as the plane took
off. Sara's eyes were closed and she was reciting something softly.
Grissom couldn't help but smirk. "Is that the periodic table?"
She lifted her lids slowly and turned slightly toward him. "Hey, it
helps."
He smiled and shook his head. "So, are you looking forward to the
case?"
Sara yawned. "Yeah, nothing makes a trip to Disney World more special
than a decapitation."
"It could be a simple Vegas decapitation."
"True. Do I get mouse ears?" She was nearly asleep now.
"With your own money."
"Fine." Grissom watched as her head started to dip and finally rested
on his shoulder. He reached forward and took the in-flight magazine
from its pocket and found the crossword page. It was going to be a
long trip.
---------------------------
TBC in Chapter Two