So I've had this story Idea for a while, floating around in my head. First off thanks goes to Jenny for her help so far on this, and the help I'm sure she'll be giving me along the way. She is my inspiration, and you should check out her profile on FF. She writes wonderful Sandle stories as well.

you can find her at http/ so begins my next story, first chapter is a little short, hopefully I'll have longer ones as the story progresses.

Fallen Embers

By: Emmithar

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own CSI, or any of the characters pertaining to CSI as well.

Summary: Sara and Greg find themselves trapped in a nightmare when things go horridly wrong at distant crime scene. Sara/Greg

Chapter One: The Case

There was something about him that put him…out of place. Sure, he was overworked, too many hours, not enough sleep. But that was a common story around here. His hair was ruffled in that organized chaotic sense, wearing for once a reasonable button up shirt, dark jeans….what kind of shoes was he wearing?

Sara leaned back in the chair, trying to peek under the table at his feet as he rambled on continually. She wasn't sure why it bugged her so much, but she needed to know what kind of shoes he was wearing. Certainly she just couldn't ask him…

"Lori Nicklios was our last victim, found ten miles north of Las Vegas about two weeks ago. TOD placed her there for at least seven hours before someone noticed her. Hands above her head, bound at the wrists with barbed wire, dressed in a two piece bathing suit, dark blue in color. Flour on the bottom of both feet, dried butter on the inside of her thighs. May have been used as a lubricant, victim was raped. No semen was found."

"Foreign object maybe?" Warrick suggested, drawing a sip of the warm black liquid.

"Perhaps," Greg nodded, "but what would the use of the butter be then?"

Just a little further…Sara crouched a little, maybe it would help…

"Strange fetish maybe, who can tell with these guys?" Warrick asked, to which Greg nodded in agreement.

A small yelp left her throat as the chair gave way under her, sending her into a sprawling, tumbling fall. She landed on her hands and knees a few feet away from where she started, both men watching her bewildered.

"I'm okay," she said shakily, picking herself up. Her cheeks burned as she wiped the palms of her hands on her pants, a small chuckle leaving her lips. "Just sometimes they put too much wax on these floors…"

"They haven't waxed the floors since last Tuesday," Warrick told her blankly. Greg was laughing quietly, covering his face with one had as Sara righted her chair.

"I knew that…" she whispered, her face still burning. "Where were we?"

"Greg and I were just discussing odd fetishes…"

"Ah, like what kind of shoes you wear…" Sara nodded.

Once again it was the blank stares, and Sara could feel her face flush once more. "I think I'm going to get some coffee…" she stated quietly, pushing herself away from the table.

"We have a fresh batch here," Greg called after her, watching her retreating form. He turned to Warrick, frowning. "Is it just me, or does she seem a little...strange?"

Sara continued on down the hall, hiding her face behind her hair. It was easy to do as long as she kept her head down, of course that also meant she couldn't see where she was going. Mentally she cursed herself. How could she have been so stupid, so ignorant? She wasn't some crazy high school girl falling for some lame…incredibly gorgeous looking creature…

A sigh escaped her lips as she came to a stop, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty. It was, and with a few more steps she entered the locker room. Greg was a friend…a coworker. The goofy lab rat had grown into something marvelous, but had apparently lost his growing crush on her. Or so it seemed.

There were those moments, times when it was just the two of them that Greg would let slip a comment, grinning from ear to ear just waiting for a response. Or a quiet look that meant 'I'm listening, I'm here'. Maybe she was just reading into it too much, but then maybe something was actually there.

It had only been a few weeks since this new feeling had entered her life, and the more she tried to ignore it, the more obvious it became. She wondered back to the last few years, when Greg stilled worked in the DNA lab. It had been obvious that he had a crush on her then…but what about now?

"Are you okay?"

He was standing in the doorway, meandering in slowly, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. Sara smiled, nodding as she worked her locker open. There wasn't anything she really needed in there besides a distraction. "I'm fine…"

His hands wrapped around her neck, pulling her in close as their lips met, a delicious kiss that made everything around them disappear. She no longer cared who was watching, or who might know…

"We have to tell the others sooner or later," Greg whispered in her ear. "I love you Sara…Sara?"

She blinked, the vision melting away before her. Greg still stood near the door, watching her with concern. "Sara?"

There had been no kiss…no flying sparks…no secret relationship. She turned away, flushed, the third time within a minute. Was that even possible?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Greg wondered, "You're kind of worrying me."

"It's okay," she told him with a warm smile. "I just have something on my mind. I'm not really here today."

It was as close to the truth as she was going to get, and she added on a reassuring smile. Greg raised an eyebrow, but was interrupted from any further comments as Grissom came in; waving the small slip of paper that was in his hand.

"You two are incredibly hard to find," Grissom frowned, "Do you ever have your pagers on?"

"Mines dead," Greg offered up, to which Sara informed the two of them hers was right inside her locker.

"Make sure you have them," Grissom reminded them even as he handed off the paper.

"Isn't this a little far from our area?" Greg questioned, studying the case. "East of Klamath Falls…that's like what? Clear up in Oregon?"

"A cop found her, called the body in. When the CSI unit arrived they recognized it as a resemblance to your current case. Hands bound with barbed wire, dark blue swimsuit…"

Greg nodded, waving him off. "Do we get paid mileage for this trip?"

"Just go," Grissom warned, leaving the pair alone.

Sara let out a sigh, leaning against her locker. "I gather this means we're not going home tonight?" Even still she was not against the idea of spending the time with him…not to mention alone.

"That's almost a fourteen hour drive," Greg muttered. "Does he really expect us to do this?"

"Experience has taught me not to argue with your supervisor…no matter how ludicrous an idea sounds…or delicious."

"What?" Greg looked up at her, but Sara was already shaking her head.

"Nothing…so fourteen hours. That means we're going to have to find a place to stay overnight."

"Not at the rate this trip's going to cost me," Greg complained. "Seriously, the lab has to be paying at least some of this. Gas…lodging. Hell, when they sent Catherine and Warrick to Florida they flew them out there."

"Florida is a little farther away than Oregon," Sara pointed out.

"True," Greg gave in with a sigh. "Give an hour to pack for at least two days, then we'll take off from here. Maybe Grissom will change his mind by then."

"Grissom?" Sara wondered, "Change his mind?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything, right?" Greg grinned, the kind of smile that always made you laugh even when you didn't want to.

"Meet you back here in an hour then," she nodded, closing her locker with a little satisfaction, car keys in her hand. She was going on a road trip…with Greg Sanders…and she would be sharing a hotel room with him…two glorious nights…

She smirked to herself as she waltzed down the stairs; maybe things were finally starting to turn in her favor. And nothing could be more beautiful than the early grey lines of a warm, morning sun rising to greet her, and the rest of the city.

TBC