lexus_grey (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lexus_grey) wrote,@ 2008-09-07 19:06:00 |
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30 Somethings: 02. Blood
02. Blood
"What?!" Catherine shrieked, hoping Sara was kidding... but it didn't sound like she was kidding, and she was pretty sure Sara wouldn't kid about something like that.
"There's dried blood everywhere, Cat... we have to call in the troops." She ducked out of the attic and climbed down both ladders, flicking off the flashlight and turning to face Catherine, who looked like she was going to etiher explode or... explode.
"Don't call me Cat," Catherine snapped. "Damnit Sara, why did you have to insist on looking up there? Now my house is a fucking crime scene! What's Lindsey going to think?"
"Hey," Sara said back, slightly defensive. "You're asking the wrong questions. Don't you think you should be asking how this happened? Or how the victim's family is going to feel? Jesus, you're selfish."
Catherine's jaw dropped, and she stood rooted to her spot, watching as Sara dropped the flashlight and walked away with that effortless swagger of hers. She didn't get a chance to defend herself, because by the time she picked up her dignity Sara was already on the phone.
"No, I'm not kidding..... Yes, a dead body..... In Catherine's attic, yeah..... Just send someone out here, Gil!" She hung up.
Catherine pounced on the opportunity. As soon as Sara hung up she frowned at her colleague and launched a defense. "I am not selfish."
Sara snorted derisively. "Okay, sure."
A blonde brow lifted. "I'm not."
"I said sure," Sara repeated with a shrug. "Whatever you say, Catherine."
"I am always thinking of the people I care about, always putting them first," Cat continued.
"Unless it interferes with your self-glamorization," Sara muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?" Catherine's voice dropped low and she took a step toward Sara.
Sara didn't back down. She wasn't afraid of the drama queen. "You heard me."
"If that's what you think of me, then what the hell should you care if some stalker's living in my attic? Wouldn't you be glad to get rid of me?"
"Oh my God, Catherine, stop over-reacting. Disliking your selfishness doesn't mean I want you dead. Get over yourself, really."
"Did you just tell me to get over myself?"
Sara groaned and flopped onto the sofa, running her hands over her face. "Someone should be here soon, and I'm stuck here until they clear us, since I technically discovered the body. And you're stuck, since you live here, and for all anyone knows you could've done it."
Catherine went rigid, memories of her biological father having been capable of murder rushing through her as she took in Sara's words. Her voice was stiff, but it shook with emotion. "You think I'm capable of that?"
The sudden change in Catherine made Sara want to kick herself. She dropped her hands to her sides and pushed off the couch, exhaling slowly. "No," she said, her tone much more gentle. "I don't. None of the guys do either. You know that, Cat."
"Don't call me Cat," Catherine said again, though the protest was half-hearted at best this time. "You know all about Sam," she then ventured. "I'm nothing like him, Sara."
"And I'm nothing like my mother," Sara whispered, choking on the memory. "I wasn't implying anything when I said you could've done it. You know it's always the standard assumption so we don't look like we're playing favorites with one of our own."
Catherine ran a hand through her hair and tried to block out the recollection of the way she felt that day... DNA results had come back on a murder weapon, and she had seven alleles in common with the killer. The legendary Sam Braun of casino fame. What a way to find out he was her biological father.
"What?!" Catherine shrieked, hoping Sara was kidding... but it didn't sound like she was kidding, and she was pretty sure Sara wouldn't kid about something like that.
"There's dried blood everywhere, Cat... we have to call in the troops." She ducked out of the attic and climbed down both ladders, flicking off the flashlight and turning to face Catherine, who looked like she was going to etiher explode or... explode.
"Don't call me Cat," Catherine snapped. "Damnit Sara, why did you have to insist on looking up there? Now my house is a fucking crime scene! What's Lindsey going to think?"
"Hey," Sara said back, slightly defensive. "You're asking the wrong questions. Don't you think you should be asking how this happened? Or how the victim's family is going to feel? Jesus, you're selfish."
Catherine's jaw dropped, and she stood rooted to her spot, watching as Sara dropped the flashlight and walked away with that effortless swagger of hers. She didn't get a chance to defend herself, because by the time she picked up her dignity Sara was already on the phone.
"No, I'm not kidding..... Yes, a dead body..... In Catherine's attic, yeah..... Just send someone out here, Gil!" She hung up.
Catherine pounced on the opportunity. As soon as Sara hung up she frowned at her colleague and launched a defense. "I am not selfish."
Sara snorted derisively. "Okay, sure."
A blonde brow lifted. "I'm not."
"I said sure," Sara repeated with a shrug. "Whatever you say, Catherine."
"I am always thinking of the people I care about, always putting them first," Cat continued.
"Unless it interferes with your self-glamorization," Sara muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?" Catherine's voice dropped low and she took a step toward Sara.
Sara didn't back down. She wasn't afraid of the drama queen. "You heard me."
"If that's what you think of me, then what the hell should you care if some stalker's living in my attic? Wouldn't you be glad to get rid of me?"
"Oh my God, Catherine, stop over-reacting. Disliking your selfishness doesn't mean I want you dead. Get over yourself, really."
"Did you just tell me to get over myself?"
Sara groaned and flopped onto the sofa, running her hands over her face. "Someone should be here soon, and I'm stuck here until they clear us, since I technically discovered the body. And you're stuck, since you live here, and for all anyone knows you could've done it."
Catherine went rigid, memories of her biological father having been capable of murder rushing through her as she took in Sara's words. Her voice was stiff, but it shook with emotion. "You think I'm capable of that?"
The sudden change in Catherine made Sara want to kick herself. She dropped her hands to her sides and pushed off the couch, exhaling slowly. "No," she said, her tone much more gentle. "I don't. None of the guys do either. You know that, Cat."
"Don't call me Cat," Catherine said again, though the protest was half-hearted at best this time. "You know all about Sam," she then ventured. "I'm nothing like him, Sara."
"And I'm nothing like my mother," Sara whispered, choking on the memory. "I wasn't implying anything when I said you could've done it. You know it's always the standard assumption so we don't look like we're playing favorites with one of our own."
Catherine ran a hand through her hair and tried to block out the recollection of the way she felt that day... DNA results had come back on a murder weapon, and she had seven alleles in common with the killer. The legendary Sam Braun of casino fame. What a way to find out he was her biological father.