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Lady Heather's Dominion

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Fair Terms and a Villain's Mind

copyright 2003, by Hannah

Disclaimer:    CSI and it's characters were created by Anthony E. Zuiker.  They are used herein without permission, but in the spirit of admiration and respect.  No infringement of copyright is intended, and no profit, of any kind, is made by the creator, maintainer or contributors to this site.

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He had been on his way home when he got the call.


“It’s Brass. Look, I know you’re coming off overtime as it is, but I thought you’d want to hear about this one.”

“Alright. Bugs?”

“No. Assault... at Lady Heather’s.”


“Yeah. We’re looking at attempted murder. The vic is beaten beyond recognition, not expected to regain consciousness.”

Something in Brass’s voice caused the first tendrils of fear to creep into his mind.

“Not Heather?”

“No ID yet... but, Gil, the physical description...”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Somehow I thought you’d say that.”

He tried to will himself to remain calm - You don’t know it’s Heather. - but by the time he arrived at Lady Heather’s Dominion, the usually unflappable Grissom was a bundle of raw nerves.

He’d had the length of the drive to berate himself for the way he’d handled that warrant in the Chloe Samms case, and for not finding some way to make amends for having hurt her. Several weeks had passed since he’d last seen Heather and during that time, he hadn’t allowed himself to consider the possibility that he might not get the chance to tell her... He had wanted to give her some time, to allow the first flash of anger to cool. He’d been an idiot.

Grissom took a deep breath and got out of his Tahoe.

In spite of his distress, he quickly assessed the scene...

A large area of the driveway and grounds was taped off. So the assault most likely took place outside. Paramedics and ambulance were gone, the victim already removed to the hospital - intensive care, no doubt.

Several uniforms, but none of his people on site yet. Who was up tonight? Cath, Warrick, maybe Sara.

No obvious sign of Brass, though Grissom had spotted his car. Must be inside... talking to the staff probably... or Heather? He should go inside and find him, get a sense of what they knew, but he moved away from the house in the direction of the yellow tape.

He saw blood every day. He’d certainly seen more than this at any number of crime scenes - but it hadn’t belonged to...

You don’t know it’s Heather’s.

His jaw clenched, his gaze traveled down and then back to the house. Brass.

One of the uniformed officers moved toward him.

“Is everything alright, Dr. Grissom?”

“Any ID on the victim yet?”

“I’m not sure, Sir.”

“Where’s Detective Brass?”

“He’s inside.”

“I want to know the minute my team arrives. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Grissom stalked toward the house, leaving the confused officer staring after him.



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copyright 2003, by Hannah

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