Christmas Brings the Gift of Light

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CAST OR SHOW CSI. I ALSO DO NOT MEAN TO MAKE ANY MONEY PROFIT WHAT SO EVER. THIS IS JUST SOME FREE HARMELESS FUN.

Title: Christmas brings the gift of light.
Author: Snapler a.k.a. Raisetheroof911
Disclaimer: I do not own the show or cast.
Email: snapler@aol.com
Pairing: Catherine/ Sara, others
Edited by: Myself


‘BZZ, BZZ, BZZ’ the noise carried around the house.
“Not again!” I took a couple breaths before answering the call.
“Sara, it is Grissom I need your help down here immediately.”
Great another incident, what could it be this time? “Sure, what is up?” I waited for a couple seconds, before he came back on the line,
“You know it is almost Christmas right?” I thought we were talking about a murder and there he goes and changes the subject. I guess I better humor him,
“Yes what about it?” There was another short break of silence and this time I heard what sounded like laughter. “Grissom, are you there?” I asked in hope.
“Yes, still alive can’t say the same goes for them. Now, please get down here. I can’t bare this anymore. It is just too much.” The connection ended.
“Grissom, Grissom?” I repeated hoping he was still there.
My mind confused on many questions left unanswered: what did he mean ‘them’? Was that laugher I heard; if so, who was laughing and why?
It did not matter, I guess, Grissom needed me down there. I quickly took my CSI hat and vest out of closet. Strange enough, it still had that just out of the laundry smell. Even though, I had worn it out a couple times. With it being my only one and my desire to work over the limit of work hours, did not give me enough time to do laundry or anything else. A little glance at my black watch, along my left wrist, told me, if I left now, I could be there at just 9:00pm.
Great, just great, I thought. It is Christmas Eve and some wacko decided to destroy what would be a glorious beauty sleep and Christmas thinking, because his urge of destruction got the best of him.
With no plan on being later than 9:00pm I ran out of my bedroom and out of my house and into my black Volkswagen car. Before, I decided to peel out I placed my blue siren at the top of the hood and off I went, siren leading.

I was only out of my vehicle for a second and Grissom had already spotted me and was making his way over. “Welcome, it only took you twenty minutes.” Grissom paused; changing his face from relaxed to concerned. “What happened?”
“I just was doing a little bit of thinking. After all, you left me wondering many questions, like what did you mean ‘them’; was that laughter I heard; and what—”
“Answers later… I’ll explain when we get inside.” He responded, and then I proceeded to follow him inside what looked like a just furnished, three floors, and white mansion. “What’s up with the attire?”
What attire? What ever do you mean? I have the uniform on…don’t I? Just to be on the safe side I looked down. Sure enough Grissom was correct.
“Sorry, I was too busy in train of thought about your call that I had blanked out on grabbing my uniform off my bed.”
“Next time, bring it” Grissom warned shaking his head with disappointment.
“Sorry, Gri—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Although, shame you forgot your hat.” He paused and thought for a moment. “I think I have an extra CSI cap.” Grissom mentioned, rummaging through his black sports bag he carried in his hands. “Ah, here it is” He handed it to me. Upon receiving the hat I thanked him, before applying it on.
“Thanks, Grissom.” Once it was firmly on I tied my outside hair into a pony tail. At the expense of an earlier request by Grissom, to prevent I quote ‘the chances of contaminating the scene with one of your own hair follicles.’

Upon reaching three big pools of blood we came to a halt. “Here we are the crime scene.”
“A kidnapping that got bad?”
“Not a bad guess, but no. My advice aim higher.” Grissom hinted. ‘Aim higher,’ I wondered. What on earth does that mean? Do I need to think of something even more dramatic?
“Umm…was it…a bizarre self combustion, leaving blood and not skin or ashes.”
Grissom smiled, “I like the idea of a new idea, also the out of the box thinking, but no. I mean, how could it explain the three vivid piles of separate blood pools?” Grissom, who saw me struggling, decided to lend a hand. “Try keeping your mind off the idea of one, but three.” Three, beats me.
“I give up.” “Funny, that was your closet guess” he chuckled, while his index finger pointed upwards.

Right then and there I wanted to scream on the spot. Three women soaked in blood, laid in row, taped at their hands and feet, next to one and other, wearing nothing but a variation of non-Victoria sexy underwear. However, figured against it, not only would I have all attention on me, but Grissom would probably throw me off the case. The case, that, I wanted to stay on to give the person responsible a piece of my mine. Then all of a sudden, a thought entered my mind.
My mind immediately went back to the clothing or lack of that they were wearing, “hookers?”
“I am afraid so, their pimp, the one who made the call after his girls failed to show for their next appointment. Tracked them down here through the address they left for him, found them like this, ran over to the kitchen and call the police. At about the time I arrived I had over heard him telling Brass each one of their names.”
“Which are?” I asked intrigued.
“I have forgotten, sorry.” When Grissom saw my roll of eyes displayed we went and did something about it. “Brass!” he yelled facing the way to the kitchen, covering his hands together to carry his voice.
“Yes” came the reply.
“What were their names?” a second went by and no answer.
“Whose?”
“The….the… stuck up whores.” Grissom replied.
“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? They are Frasier, Dream, and Wonder.”
“There you have it.”
“Thanks, what would you say went through this killer’s mind?” I asked.
“I’d say most likely he or she helped himself or herself to an early Christmas; with a ho-ho-ho to boot.

(End of intro, cue song)