Disclaimer: I do not own any character's mentioned in this story, apart from the ones i created and then again i'm not making any money out of them so there's not much...ah you know the drill.

A/N: Right, i know i should be working on Don't Walk Away but there was a problem on my laptop and i forgot to back up all my work onto a floppy disc, so then the laptop crashed and went all loopy and i've lost all my work. So now i've got to try and find someone who can find all my lost files on the laptop so i decided why not write a little something to waste time. And this is what happens when i'm bored. Enjoy!

Chapter One

The air in Sara's lungs was getting pushed out as quickly as it came in, her muscles were in agony, and her head was spinning. Turning a sharp corner adrenaline finally kicked in, legs moving faster her hands at her sides now pushing the air away from her she was on a role. Dodging little old ladies and young children she pushed through the crowd, she could feel the pressure in her lungs building, the burning at the back of her throat.

Come on…come on…

Finally, she spotted the suspect; he was running a little faster than her, he kept looking over his broad sturdy shoulder. He spotted her too and when their eyes locked, she could see the fear in his eyes and he could see the anger and frustration in hers.

Gothca!

Breathing hard, she tried to get her legs to move faster, her calf muscles aching at the speed she was going, she knew she'd be able to catch him if she could just run a little faster. He knocked into a tall African man and lost his balance, losing speed he tried to carry on his shoulder hurting from the impact. It was then that Sara knew this was her only chance to catch the bastard. Building up momentum, she sprinted as fast as her legs to take her and flung herself into the air, her legs touching nothing but the air below her body. As if in slow motion, the suspect looked over his shoulder for the last time and saw her, flying through the air away to barge right into him. He tried his best to move out of the way but it was no use, finally she landed square on his shoulders, enough force that she was able to make him collapse onto the ground.

Breathing hard, she turned him over and looked into his pale green eyes. Smiling she waved the cops on the scene over, they had finally caught up.

"We meet again…"

Looking through a box of old photo's Sara had heard a soft wispy noise, shaking it off as paranoia she continued to look through the photographs, it was only when she heard it again she was sure that someone else was in the house with her. Taking her gun out of it's holster, she crawled slowly through to the hall, she could see a faint shadow, a man trying to get out of the house without grabbing Sara's attention.

Unlucky for him, he made enough noise for Sara to hear him.

"Turn around and put your hands up, slowly!"

It was then that the guy decided to make a run for it.

In the interrogation room Brass sat next to Sara as Brian Nash –the now named running suspect- was being questioned. From the way Sara had landed on his shoulders, he had fallen face first; a few scratches adorned his face and his nose looked roughly out of shape. His lip had stopped bleeding a few minutes before the questioning had started. His hair looked as if it needed a good brush and the blonde highlights had now vanished leaving his roots visible.

Brass nodded at Sara for the questioning to go ahead. She folded her hands and smiled politely at Nash.

"So…that was some work out today on the streets huh?"

Nash raised his right eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

"What I want to know is…why were you in the house in the first place? It was a crime scene, were you trying to steal evidence hoping I wouldn't find out who you were?"

Chewing his gum Nash winked at Sara. A sleazy come on wink.

"Your kinda fit. Good looking…wouldn't mind havin' a piece of you Honey."

Brass stood from his place in his chair, walked round the table, and stood next to Nash. Raising both eyebrows, he put his hands on the interrogation table.

"You know, Ms Sidle was only asking you a few simple questions. No need to get cheeky. You know what they do to cheeky guys like you in prison. They wait until you make a mistake and drop the soap. So…answer Ms Sidle's question…what were you doing at the crime scene this evening?"

Sitting up Nash stared at Brass, wiped his sweaty brow, and began telling Sara his ludicrous story.

"I got a phone call…from Spike-

"Spike?"

"- Who lives well…lived in that house. Said he had some gear and wanted me to pick it up for him. So I get in my car, go to his house ring the doorbell…no answer so I let myself in. Walk up the stairs see him dead on the bedroom floor and then the cops show up. So I'm stuck in the house till Ms Sidle a.k.a good looking shows up. I see a way to get out and then…well as they say in movies the rest is history."

"How long did it take you to get from your house to Mr Young's house?"

Chewing his gum rapidly, Nash sat back in his seat and sighed.

"I don't normally time my journey's ya know? Erm…maybe 15 minutes. Depends on how busy the traffic is."

Brass walked back round to his side of the table and picked up Brian Nash's rap sheet.

Looking over it, he made a clicking noise.

"Attempted burglary, narcotics, caught with an unlicensed weapon, I'd say you were more than a saint."

It was Sara's turn to speak.

"I'd say more of a sinner."

Sara walked into the break room; Nick Greg and Warrick were seated having a cup of coffee and an animated conversation. Nick was the first to notice Sara.

"Well, look who it is...it's Ms Sara Sidle. Round of applause for our hero guys."

Sara's lips turned into a grin as all three of them started clapping. Walking over and pouring herself a cup of coffee, she turned round and waved them off.

"Enough…I did what had to be done."

"Didn't know you had it in you Sar, man from what I heard it was a right chase. Knocking down little old ladies, jumping over cars…a right Arnold Swartznegger."

Sitting down Sara laughed.

"There was no 'knockingdown little old ladies and jumping over cars'. I had to dodge a few people and the only thing that was bumped into was this African guy. I think he was kinda shocked with expression that was plastered all over his face."

Greg's animated voice made Sara laugh.

"I heard you soared through the air like Superman and slam dunked the guy."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"If I hadn't jumped when I had the guy wouldn't be in custody."

"I hear you Sister."

Sipping her warm coffee, Sara relaxed, to people outside it looked as if they were all co-workers, but in reality, they were like family. If anything happened to one of them, it would backlash to the rest of the team. Losing one of them would be like losing a family member. Everyone was important to Sara. Sitting back in her chair, she looked around the break room and raised her eyebrows.

"Where are Catherine and Grissom? Didn't think they had a case."

Warrick sighed licked his lips.

"Catherine's picking Lindsey up from soccer practice and Grissom…last I heard he was looking for you. Think he wants to give you a supervisory ass whipping after your stunning performance today."

"Is there ever a day he doesn't want to give me an ass whipping? I don't think I can handle one today. If you guys were in my position you'd have done the same thing, right?"

Greg started picking his gelled hair and rolled his eyes.

"Wouldn't catch me running my unfit ass towards a suspect armed or not and jumping on his back like he said you could have a –"

Grissom barged into the break room, his faced pinched in anger. He took one long look at Sara and barked at her.

"Sara. My office. Now!"

Practically running down the hall to his office Grissom walked in and waited for a very angry Sara.

Meanwhile Nick sipped his coffee and smirked.

"The Boss beckons you."

Shaking her head, Sara stood up and poured the remainder of her coffee down the sink, and washed out her cup. Trying to take as much time to calm herself down and think of an un cheeky response to Grissom's ass whipping she set her cup on the draining board and made her way to Grissom's office, with the normal 'Good Lucks' from her co-workers. Walking slowly and calmly she knocked lightly on Grissom's open door, walked in closed the door behind her and sat down.

"I take it this is about-"

"Don't say another word until I've finished. What did you think you were doing today running after a suspect? Are you crazy? He could have been armed; he could have had friends close by, yet you didn't take a minute to think of the consequences and ran after him anyway. What's wrong with you Sara?"

"He was in the house I was processing, I heard him trying to escape, tried to talk him into staying so the cops on the scene could arrest him, but he ran. I ran after him because I thought he might have stolen some piece of evidence that was important and relevant to the case. I wasn't thinking about myself but more about the case, and frankly, I don't need you on my back for me doing my job. If I had let him go he might have killed another person and we'd be going round in circles."

Running her shaking hands through her hair, she let out a long frustrated breath and watched as Grissom stared at her, his eyes both filled with anger and another emotion Sara couldn't pinpoint. Rubbing his temples, he tried to shoo away the oncoming migraine that was trying to take hold of him. Sara immediately noticed his pained expression and bit her lip. Should she ask him if he was OK or would he blow up in her face? Better to be safe than sorry, she took his silence as the end of the ass whipping, stood up took one last look over her shoulder at the tired Grissom and walked out of his office without a goodbye. If he could be an insensitive bastard then so could she.

Sara decided to pay Brian Nash another visit in the interrogation room because his story wasn't adding up. She had taken the drive that Nash had taken only 5 hours ago, finding that when the traffic was bad it only took her just over 5 minutes to get to Henderson where Mr Young lived. That and the fact that when she followed the route she took to chasing Nash she had found he had flung a small screwdriver to his right hand side which had landed near a trash bag. Comparing the blood from the screwdriver to Mr Young's DNA it was a positive match. The puncture would at the back of his skull also matched the murder weapon.

Walking into the interrogation room, she quickly glanced at Brass and sat down on the opposite side of Nash. Smiling sweetly she pointed to his new clothing, the orange jumpsuit suspects in custody wore.

"Orange really suits you."

Gritting his yellow rotting teeth Nash stared at Sara.

"Cut to the chase Lady, you came here to tell me I'm free to go?"

Shaking her head, Sara smiled.

"Nope. I'm here to tell you that you're lying and that I KNOW what happened at Mr Young's house."

Huffing a laugh, Nash continued to stare at her.

"Oh really? Care to tell me your…theory?"

"True Mr Young rang you and told you he had a new stash of drugs, but it wasn't to inform you and for you to go pick it up. He told you to make you jealous, knowing that you've been out of the drugs business for a while. It did make you jealous, jealous enough for you to go into your garage take one of your screwdrivers with you and pay Mr Young a visit. Once you got to his house you had to think of how you could make this work. So you went to his door, rang the bell and pleaded your way into his home. There you two sat down had a nice comfy chat about his drugs and while he turned his back to show you the stash…you what? Flipped out, took the screwdriver out of your jacket and killed him 'GoodFellas' style?"

"He OWED me!"

"What I don't understand is why you stuck around for the cops to arrive. You could have ran and we would probably have never found you."

"I wanted it to look like I was the innocent party, ya know? I'm sick of bein'the bad guy, I wanted to be the good guy. I deserved to be the good guy, I took a dealer off the streets!"

"You may have took a dealer off the streets Brian, but you've put a hypocrite ex dealer in jail."

Sara sat in her car in the Lab's car park and rubbed her tired eyes. It felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. On one hand, she had to work with Grissom in the mood he was in, playing it professional and calm, and on the other hand, she had to pretend to be the strong willed hero people were making her out to be. Nothing in life worked out the way she wanted it to be. Now she just wanted to give up, move on and move away. She couldn't handle the friction between Grissom and she anymore, it was bordering on the line of ridiculousness, he could be loveable one minute and become the Pratt he was the next. He was un predictable and she didn't think she could handle that anymore. Could she move away, out of Vegas, away from her friends and Grissom and feel no loss at all? There was only one way to find out, move on…and this time; there was nothing to hold her back.

TBC