Hot Vegas Nights

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own these characters...if I did CSI would not be what you know it to be. These characters are the property of their illustrious creator Anthony Zuiker and, (though I would like to bash him over the head for not exploring some ::ahem:: romantic aspects of the show), they are his alone to do with as he sees fit. I am not making any money off of his ideas (frankly I'm not making money off my own ideas either but that's besides the point) so please don't sue me!

Summary: A shameless PWP work at first it evolved into more. It's the middle of July and Vegas is burning with heat...When one of Grissom's crew reveals a horrifying secret what will he have to do to help? (Ok I'm bad at summaries...I'm working on it!)

Rating: Starts off PG-ish and progresses to R in later chapters

A/N: I've been rolling ideas around in my head for ages now and I finally decided to let them escape onto paper (well not literally but you know what I mean). I would love some reviews it's my first fic ever so don't criticize too harshly! (Constructive criticism is expected and appreciated...how else will I get better?). Also please note the a name followed by means a change in POV.

Chapter One: Midnight at 125ºF

Sara

The last thing I remember is standing up after being bent over our most recent case, a dead female, fourteen or fifteen, dumped in the middle of nowhere. I'd wanted desperately to tell someone what had happened the day before but they were too wrapped up in the case so I had brushed it off, figuring it would go away if I just threw myself into work. As I stood a wave of dizziness overtook me and I passed out...

Grissom

I was focussed on Sara, crouched low over the corpse in the sand, marvelling at how beautiful she could look under such distressing situations. I tried to tear my eyes away as she stood, not wanting her to catch me staring, but that invisible thread that held me to her wouldn't allow it. She stood and stretched her arms over her head, her shirt lifting to expose her flat midriff and suddenly she collapsed. I reached out to catch her before she hit her head off the hard Nevada landscape. She stirred as I lifted her limp body into my arms, taking her away to the cool, air-conditioned interior of my Tahoe. A moan escaped her lips that, at another time and place, would have been incredibly sexy.

"Griss?" she mumbled as I cranked up the A/C. An unintelligible stream of words emitted from her mouth moments before she leaned out the car door and vomited into the sand. I wasn't sure what to do to help so I just did what the heroic men do in the movies, I held her hair back in one hand and gently rubbed her back with my free one. When her retching subsided into dry heaves I pulled her gently back into the car. I asked her if she was alright, expecting my headstrong Sara to brush off her illness as though nothing had happened, I steeled myself for a battle of wills to get her to take a break.

"No..." was all she could manage before her strong outer shell crumbled into streams of salty tears running down those gorgeous pale cheeks. I pulled her into my arms trying to soothe her all the while wondering what was happening.

"Can beautiful, strong, sexy Sara Sidle really be in my arms crying her eyes out?" I wondered. Of the hundreds of thousands of times I dreamed of holding her in my arms, not once was she crying and upset. After ten minutes of just sitting there holding her in the dim interior of my Tahoe I manoeuvred my cell out of pocket to call Cath and tell her to take over for me, I was taking Sara to the hospital to be checked out.

Sara

"I am not doing this, I can't possibly be doing this!". As much as that little voice inside my head screamed this over and over I really was doing it. I was crying, in Grissom's Tahoe and...wait a minute... "Oh my God! He's holding me!...and he's rubbing my back and telling me to 'Calm down, honey, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong.'"

This was never how I imagined my first time in Grissom's arms and when I realized just where I was I pulled back and curled up into the farthest corner of the passenger side. I knew I had to tell him but the words were not coming easily, how do you tell the man you're in love with that you were attacked and raped on your way home from work the day before? Only two days ago the parking structure had always seemed safe and then out of nowhere a man jumped me from behind, tied me up and raped me.

"Gil?", my voice sounded foreign to my ears, timid and shy. I couldn't meet his eyes but I knew he was looking at me, waiting for me to go on and it all tumbled out. I told him everything, from the stop at the grocery store to the long hot shower I took in the aftermath. I knew it was stupid, I was washing away evidence, but I needed to get the feel of him off me. "Oh Sara, honey, why didn't you tell me? Or call the police?" he asked and I couldn't answer, I had no good reason. He reached out to take my hand but I flinched and pulled away further because no matter how much I trusted Grissom, I was still afraid. "Okay honey, I'm going to take you to the rape crisis centre alright?" All I could manage was a small, half-hearted nod as he put the Tahoe in gear and took off towards the hospital.