Title: Ninth Life
Author: ardvari
Author’s Email: ardvari@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sara/Sofia
Summary: I don't think 911 means what you think it means.
404A 911 Disconnected

Disclaimer: "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.

Author’s Notes: Another little snippet inspired by [info]chadini's LVMP code prompts. I'm having fun with these.

Beta: Thanks, as always, to [info]princessklutz04 for the beta. And for the title. I suck with titles.

Ninth Life

“Hey, where are you?” Sara dropped herself onto the couch in the break room and tried to peel a mandarin orange with one hand.

“On my way out to Henderson with Brass. We got a 404A and dispatch said the woman on the phone sounded pretty distraught and said something about a dead body before the call got disconnected.” Sofia explained, resting her elbow against the window.

“Well, we finished the O’Connor case. The boyfriend confessed and Grissom gave us the rest of the night off since we’ve all been pulling doubles.”

For a moment they listened to each other breathe across the slightly static-y line, both a little hesitant. They had barely seen each other all week and the need for each other sizzled between them like electricity.

“Lemme see what’s going on with this 911 call, then I’ll be back. Care to meet for dinner?” Slapping a chuckling Brass lightly, Sofia tried to hide her own smirk. Their relationship was still a secret but Brass had… powers. And sooner or later he would find out just why exactly Sara didn’t max out on overtime every month anymore and Sofia seemed a lot less… bitchy.

“How about you meet me at your apartment and we order take-out? I’d rather have you to myself tonight.” Sara’s voice dropped a couple of notches to an almost husky tone and Sofia felt her breath catch a little.

“Great idea. I’ll… be there when I get there.” Blushing furiously under Brass’ amused glance, she cleared her throat and stuffed her phone back into her jacket pocket. Running a hand through her hair, she smirked at Brass.

“New boyfriend?” he asked nonchalantly as he pulled into the driveway of a desolate- looking house.

An unkempt woman sat on the front steps, a dead cat in her arms and a bottle of alcohol in a brown paper bag beside her.

“Something like that, yeah.” Sofia mumbled, staring out the windshield at the woman. She struggled to get up, pushing over the bottle beside her and spilling the amber content down the steps. When she finally managed to right herself, she swayed a bit, holding out the dead cat to the two detectives. Brass slowly rolled down the window while Sofia’s jaw dropped.

“He just… died. And I didn’t know who to call!” wailed the woman and Sofia flopped back in her seat with an exaggerated sigh.

“Geez…”