Disclaimer: Flick back a few chapters to see who all the credit belongs to, if you're that desperate.

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9:10 am

Sara looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw Valerie standing in the doorway.

"Oh," Valerie said, composing her face into a neutral mask. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb…"

Sara quickly wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Don't mind me. It's nothing."

Val managed a wry smile. "A lot of things today are 'nothing'." She excused herself and moved to her locker, and pulled a hairbrush and a handheld mirror out of her bag. She shrugged apologetically at Sara. "I guess you'd be the person I'd have to talk to," she said, setting the mirror in the locker and beginning to brush her hair, "About the Gold case?"

"The Gold case?" Sara frowned. "I thought you and Nick had a different one to work on."

Val shrugged, but her face showed irritation for a moment. "Ecklie from the Day Shift decided it'd be a good idea if he took over." She snorted. "Jerk."

Sara had to smile at that. Too true. "Well, Warrick is heading back out to the crime scene soon, if you want to go with him."

Val turned her eyes to Sara, her own face emotionless. "And what about you?"

"I'm going to the Gold's place. Perhaps we can find some evidence as to why she might have committed suicide."

Val nodded sagely, her hairbrush not pausing in its strokes. "Right. Well, give me a minute or two to wake myself up, and then I'll come with you." She turned back to the locker, then added, "And you might want to fill me in on what exactly has happened so far." There was a long pause, the only sound being that of Val's hairbrush pulling through her hair.

Quietly, Sara asked, "Are you still mad at me?"

Val continued to brush her hair, but she sighed. "I'm not mad at you, Sara. I'm not that kind of person." She sighed again.

"Listen, Val," Sara stood up to be eye level with Valerie, who turned to look at her, "I'm sorry about what I said before. It was really out of line. I mean, I shouldn't have taken it out on you… You were just trying to help."

Val smiled faintly. "It's okay." Her smile turned wry. "I didn't mean to lose my temper at you either. Stupid of me." She shrugged. "But I meant what I said today." Her face was open and sincere. "I honestly think it will work between you and Grissom, I really do. Just give him time."

Sara shook her head. "I already took care of that just now. We worked it out."

Val lifted an eyebrow, smiling. "Really? Well, that's good news." Val examined herself critically in the mirror, checking for flyaway strands of hair.

Sara nodded mutely, eyes turning away. "I guess so…" She lifted her head again. "What about you and Nick?"

The hairbrush paused for a split-second. "Not going to happen." Her voice was unusually stony.

"Why not?"

Val set down her hairbrush and closed the locker - slow, deliberate movements. "You were right," she said softly, "I shouldn't have had breakfast with him. But for once…" She shook her head, then turned to face Sara. "You're lucky, Sara, to have the people you work with as your friends." She smiled slightly. "And that you guys here are letting me be your friend." Her face suddenly became hard and blank. "I lost all my friends the day Daniel… died."

Sara remembered the look that had been on Val's face only last night when she had told Sara and Warrick about her scars - the pain, the remorse, the sadness. It was still there tonight, but muted, a mere shadow of what it had been earlier, and tempered with something else - guilt.

Survivor's guilt.

"He was the sweetheart of the lab," Val smiled distantly. "Everyone loved him. So when he… when he was gone… everyone needed someone to blame."

"But that's not fair!" Sara burst out.

Val shrugged half-heartedly. "It was my name on the suicide note. They all got to read it before I did - I was unconscious on an operating table. Daniel dedicated his death to me. But I was alive. And noth…" Val's voice caught, and she cleared her throat. "Nothing can change what happened. And everyone needed someone to hate." She shrugged.

"That's just stupid." Sara said.

The redhead managed a smile. "What, having breakfast with Nick? Yeah, maybe. But, hey, we were there when someone was murdered, and we helped crack that case, so maybe it was a good thing."

"Not that. I mean, your friends hating you. That's just stupid." Sara couldn't imagine people to be so petty, so cruel.

Val gave a sighing-smile. "I know. That's why I travel so much. I don't like working in Seattle much."

"So why don't you leave?"

Val didn't answer. She just stared evenly at Sara.

And it was Sara who realised. "Because you'd feel like you were betraying him if you left, right? Because you're trying to make up for… losing him."

Val's eyes were sad. "Something like that, I guess." She started to turn away.

Gently, Sara whispered, "And is that why you don't want to let yourself like Nick?"

Val paused, standing in the doorway, her back to Sara.

"I'm sorry," Sara said, moving forward and putting a hand on Val's shoulder, "I didn't mean to offend you again…"

Val just nodded. "Layout room in five minutes," she said, her voice even. "Bring the evidence from the Gold case."

They split up, going in different directions: Sara to the morgue, Val to the washroom.

---

Truth is the only safe ground to stand upon.
- Elizabeth Cady Stanton, The Woman's Bible

9:12 am

Warrick poured himself a cup of coffee - not Greg's Blue Hawaiian, unfortunately, but coffee is coffee - then sat down opposite Nick. Nick was looking through the evidence log, acquainting himself with the case.

"When's the coroner's report coming through?" Nick asked.

Warrick just shrugged. "When it's ready, I guess."

Nick nodded in wry agreement. "Yeah. They're pretty busy in there this week."

"Yeah." Warrick sighed and sipped at his coffee. Nothing more needed to be said.

Nick turned a page, and frowned thoughtfully. "So, what's your take on this case, anyway?"

Warrick shrugged again, and settled himself more comfortably in the chair. "Well, my first impression when I was at the scene was murder."

Nick looked up.

"Yeah, I know," Warrick took another sip of coffee, "But then, I'd just had some maniac come at me with a kitchen knife this morning. Even a couple of beers couldn't chase that away." He looked at his bandaged hand and gave a slightly amused smile. "But anyway, as I began to process the scene, it seemed more and more like what that kid had said it had been. A botched double-suicide."

"Hrm." Nick looked back at the manila folder.

"What, hrm?"

"Just hrm," Nick said, trying not to smile at the look on Warrick's face. "I guess I've yet to come to a conclusion yet."

Warrick nodded. "Yeah, better wait until you've seen all the evidence." He looked up and out through the windows. "Looks like Sara's heading for the layout room. Come with?"

Nick nodded, and the two CSI's rose to their feet and cut through the lab.

"Good morning sunshine!" Nick grinned at Sara as she unpacked the boxes containing all the evidence.

Sara managed a faint smile. "Good morning to you too," she said. "Give me a hand?"

Warrick and Nick helped her unpack, placing everything out.

"Where's Val?" Nick asked, nonchalantly. "I thought she was with you."

Warrick glanced at Sara, who, to her credit, managed to keep herself from doing the same. "She'll be here in a minute. She just needed a break."

Nick nodded his understanding, then turned his attention to the crime scene photos. "A carousel? They went to that old funfair to kill themselves?"

"Not exactly romantic." Sara agreed softly.

"No," Warrick put his two cents in, "But it's quiet. Secluded. And it's a great place to watch the sunset over the desert."

"I take that back, then," Sara said, a little sadly. She tapped a manila folder gently in the open palm of one hand.

Warrick pointed at the folder. "What's this?"

Sara sighed. "Coroner's report. Even though a lot of the evidence on Emily Gold's body - like GSR and blood evidence - was washed off by the hospitals, there were still a few things that the coroner could tell us about the poor girl. I haven't read it myself yet, but I plan to."

"What did I miss?" Val appeared in the doorway, adjusting her hair minutely. Neither Warrick nor Sara missed the way Nick's head snapped up, or the smile that briefly appeared.

"Crime scene photos, evidence collected," Nick explained, as Val came up to the table frowning with thought. "And Sara has the coroner's report."

Val merely nodded, then looked up at Sara. "Mind if I have a read?"

"You might want to read this first," Nick said, holding the case file out to Val. She took both folders gingerly, then leant up against the wall and started reading, looking up every now and then at a photo or a piece of evidence mentioned in the file.

"Warrick," Sara asked, "When you went to process the scene, who was the officer on standby?"

"Vega," Warrick said, folding his arms.

Val looked up for a second, pointing to the file. "It says here the officer first on the scene was Detective-Sergeant Anne-Marie Marrone."

"Now that's a mouthful," Nick joked, trying to inject some levity into the situation. "But why wasn't she there when you were, Warrick?"

Grissom materialised in the doorway. "Because she went to the hospital and interrogated Chris Harte of her own accord." The head of the Graveyard shift moved into the room, putting on his glasses as he did so, his team falling in around the table. Val remained leaning against the wall, for a moment, then came forward to stand between Sara and Nick.

"Sergeant Marrone then went to the Gold family home," Grissom continued, making and holding eye contact with everyone. "She told them - in very indistinct terms, mind you - that Chris was a murderer. She then took her personal findings to the District Attorney and to several prominent newspapers…" Grissom sighed, knowing the faces on him were all horrified by this turn of events. "You know the rest. Now it's up to us to try and salvage this case."

"And by salvage…" Sara said wryly, keeping her eyes on the empty bottle of alcohol wrapped in a plastic evidence bag. Canadian Club, just like Chris had said. It certainly would have taken the edge off the nerves of two teenagers deciding to kill themselves… but then, it also could have been used to make a teenage girl so drunk and stupid she wouldn't have known what to expect.

"And by salvage," Grissom continued, "I mean we do the best we can."

Val closed the case file and passed it back to Nick. "So, what exactly are we trying to find, here? Do we want to prove Marrone's theory that it was a murder? Or do we believe that boy's story, that it was a botched 'Romeo and Juliet'?"

All eyes turned to her. Grissom was frowning, remembering Brass's words earlier in the day. Sara was wide-eyed, the story of Val's colleague still fresh in her memory. Warrick was nodding quietly, agreeing with Val's succinct description. Nick was just looking at Val, also agreeing, when he suddenly realised her eyes were grey-green. Not vivid, as he had thought, but muted and soft.

Grissom motioned with his hands towards the spread of items on the layout table. "We try to find the truth."

There was a deep silence in the wake of his words.

"Is there anything else we should know before we get into this?" Warrick asked.

Grissom looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Yes. One more thing." He steeled himself, met everyone's eyes once more. "No matter what you find, no matter whether you prove murder, suicide or otherwise, Chris Harte is being arrested in half an hour."

"What?" Nick frowned. "Why?" Sara said, at the same time. Val and Warrick had just stared.

Grissom's already slumped shoulders slumped a little more. "Because it's his birthday today. He's eighteen years old." He paused again. "And therefore, legally an adult." He looked at all the horrified and disbelieving eyes pinned on him. He shrugged; a Pilate washing his hands of all that had been done but wishing he could have done something… anything…

"Then we get to work," Val said softly.

Grissom nodded. "Yeah." He sighed, then turned and vanished back the way he had come. In the layout room, his team swiftly organised themselves, their voices, their gazes and their motions tense with the expectations suddenly dropped on them.