Summary: A school shooting tests the CSIs…especially Catherine.

Author's Note: Pretty much AU…but hey, it's my story, right? All of the original cast is present…no one is dead; no one is in Costa Rica.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to their respective owners.

Spoilers: None that I know of.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

8:37 a.m.

Willows Residence

Shivering, Catherine pulled her comforter up farther in an attempt to stave off the crisp fall temperatures that had swept over Las Vegas. She wasn't a fan of cool weather; she preferred scorching summer days to chilly autumn ones. Burying her head under her pillow, she prayed that she would be able to fall asleep quickly, but she knew the three cups of coffee she had the previous night at work would most likely keep her awake for at least another hour.

After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Catherine begrudgingly swung her feet out of bed and stood up, groaning as her knees popped in protest of her swift movement. She padded to her closet and pulled out a flannel shirt that had once belonged to her ex-husband, and she headed downstairs to her kitchen.

Cursing herself for drinking the caffeinated beverage the night before, she poured herself a glass of milk and warmed it in the microwave for a short time. When the timer beeped, she took her glass and made herself comfortable on the living room couch. She quickly downed the warm milk, and before long she was beginning to feel its effects. She pulled a throw off of the back of the couch and draped it over her legs. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

8:43 a.m.

Butterfield Academy

Room 205

Fifteen year old Lindsey Willows sat in the back row of her American History class halfheartedly listening to her teacher lecture about the California gold rush. She glanced at Katie Stanley, the unusually quiet girl who sat to her left. Katie appeared to be taking very detailed notes over the teacher's lecture. Rolling her eyes, Lindsey turned to her right and softly tapped her finger on her desk to get her best friend's attention.

Morgan Weston, who had been doodling in the back of her textbook, turned her head and meft Lindsey's gaze. "Boring", Morgan mouthed. Lindsey nodded her head exaggeratedly in response, causing Morgan to giggle.

Their teacher, upon hearing Morgan's giggling, ceased his speech about gold mining. "Do you girls need something?"

Lindsey, ever the charmer, replied, "No thank you Mr. Haney. We'll let you know if we do." Morgan covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing out loud.

Rather than harping on the girl's lack of attention, he returned to his lecture. Lindsey pulled out a sheet of paper and began to take notes, but not before she winked at Morgan.

8:46 a.m.

Butterfield Academy Parking Lot

"Don't tell me you're losing your nerve!" Brian Chenoweth growled at the boy in his car with him.

Tyson Bauer cracked his knuckles, partly out of habit and partly due to nervousness. "No dude. I'm gonna do this."

Opening up the car door and getting out, Brian testily replied, "Good. We've been planning this too long for you to back out now."

Silently trying to quell his churning stomach, Tyson got out of the car and followed Brian to the rear of the Buick, where the trunk now stood open. Brian reached in and pulled out a handgun, handing it to Tyson. Tyson nervously looked at it before shoved it in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. He then pocketed a handful of extra bullets. Brian, who had a revolver hidden underneath his jacket, slammed the lid of the trunk. "Let's do this," he said icily, as the pair made their way to the high school.

8:49 a.m.

Butterfield Academy

Main Office

Principal Roger Hicks sighed as he saw two more stragglers making their way down the main hallway. Although Mr. Hicks enjoyed his job, he dreaded dealing with at least twenty tardy students every day. Walking past the secretary's desk, he opened the offices doors. In a mock cheerful voice, he called out, "Mr. Bauer, Mr. Chenoweth! I'd like to have a word with you please!" He watched as the pair exchanged a glance, but thought nothing of it. He held the door open for the boys as he ushered them into the office. "Do you two realize school starts at 8:00 a.m.?" When he received no response, he headed toward his private office. "Mr. Chenoweth, I'll deal with you first."

Brian followed Mr. Hicks into his office, casting a glance over his shoulder at Tyson. The heavy oak door to the principal's office was shut, and the gray-haired secretary, Joann, instructed Tyson to have a seat in a chair outside of the office. Nervously, he did as he was told. He sat in silence, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair as he listened to Joann's perfectly manicured fingernails click on the keys of her computer keyboard. He shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of the gun pressing into his abdomen.

Then, from behind the closed door, a shot rang out.

Joann stood up and screamed, turning to press the panic button that was hidden rather conspicuously on the wall behind her desk. But before she could reach it, Tyson sprinted to her and hit her in the back of the head with the butt of his handgun, knocking her out. The door to the principal's office flew open and Brian ran out, leaving the door open so Tyson could see Mr. Hicks slouched over his desk, along with a spray of blood on the cream curtains behind him. Brian grabbed Tyson by the arm and led him out into the hallway. Noticing that the hallway was still empty, Brian turned to his partner and gruffly said, "No turning back now." He then raced down the hall and turned left into another hallway leading to classrooms. Tyson faltered for a moment before following Brian, turning down an opposite hallway.

8:49 a.m.

Butterfield Academy

Room 205

When the shot resounded throughout the school, the students in Mr. Haney's class were instantly alert. Mr. Haney dropped his chalk on the tile floor, which shattered on impact. He looked at the faces of his students; he saw a mixture of fear and confusion in the eyes of all nineteen of his American History students. Quickly regaining his senses, he recalled what he had been trained to do in the event that something should ever happen at Butterfield. He ran to the door of the classroom, locking it. "Everyone get against this wall!" he yelled. The students obeyed without questioning him, and he hurriedly shut off the classroom lights.

He sat down along the wall against the hallway with his students, remembering that if anyone looked in the classroom it would appear to be empty. "Who has a cell phone?" he asked. The hands of all nineteen students shot up in unison. "Lindsey, call 911! Tell them there's a shooter in the building!"

Well, there's chapter one! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Reviews are greatly appreciated.