Keep Him Close

By: Emmithar

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Last time I checked I still didn't own them. So sorry.

Summary: Halloween Fic: Sometimes you don't know what you have until it's gone. Character death, Greg/Sara

A/N: I know, I know. Yet another one. But I was in the mood, and hey, it's Halloween, or close enough to say that it still is. It's only a two parter, last piece will be up within the next week.

Chapter One: Missing

He had been peppy; or at least that was what she drew from it. His black velvet hat had been drawn down over his eyes as he shifted the collar of his coat to wrap around his neck to just under his chin as he came into the room. With a nod he grinned at her, earning a similar expression back as he spoke for the first time.

"Hello my lady," he purred softly, extending a gloved hand. "What is something as classy as you doing all the way back here?"

Sara rolled her eyes only slightly, but couldn't help but laugh as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He looked stunning in his costume, more than she would ever admit; there were quite a few things that surprised her about him. One being his love for Halloween. She could honestly swear that was an overgrown child, but she supposed that was all in a good way.

Halloween had never been one of her things. When she was younger, living with her parents it wasn't something you even mentioned. It didn't exist in her life, and in fact she hadn't known what Halloween even was about until she started school. This tradition carried on through her foster years, and soon it became a distaste. As the other children went door to door acquiring copious amounts of candy she would remain locked in her room, studying for the next upcoming test, or divulging in a forensics book. Knowledge, not fantasy, had been her escape from reality.

The first time she had ever dressed up was a few years prior, when Greg, once again, had convinced her to come to the annual costume party held by the LVPD. It was a charity function, something the city always liked to see, but with a bit of added fun. For years she had avoided it, until one man convinced her to come.

The first year she hadn't even dressed up, simply coming as herself. It had been a long day at the lab and the last thing she wanted to do was hang around at her apartment. In the end Greg had been right, it was fun. Fun enough to make her brave the embarrassment and dress up for the next year.

"What are you supposed to be?" she raised an eyebrow as he spun around, his black cape following after. Almost completely decked out in black save for his silver belt and dainty feathers atop his hat it made him seem incredibly sexy, the clothes skimming along his skin nicely. Greg had grown in more than one way over the years, maturing into a fine young man. He had seemed so young and naïve when she first had met him, but now that all that had washed away into a more confident investigator.

"I," he took a moment to drawn in a breath, flashing a grin, "am a Shadow Bandit. And you would be?"

Sara flashed him a grin, the cheap plastic fangs showing for but a moment. Greg had obviously spent more on his attire, but she was unwilling to dish out big bucks for something she was going to wear for a span of several hours. It just didn't seem worth it. "Like you couldn't tell."

"A Countess," Greg grinned from ear to ear, holding his arm up to his side. "A creature of the night, would you care to escort such a fine specimen to the party?"

"Surely you don't mean yourself," she challenged, smiling as he blushed. Even though his face was concealed mostly by the hat, and the mask he had donned, it was still easy to see that he was shy. It was a quality she had always liked about him. Always so outgoing, yet timid on the inside. It was sweet, and a bit intoxicating.

"I was hoping you'd be my girl for the night," Greg stated, shrugging off her earlier comment. His true voice rung through, his forced accent dropping for the time being. She gave him a weak smile, wishing that she could accept.

"I've already promised Nicky."

"Stung by Holmes himself?" Greg questioned, arms folded as he shifted his weight. He was surprised to see Sara laughing…once again. "What?"

"He's Dr. Watson," she corrected, reaching out to take one of his arms. "And besides, I've been your partner for the last three years now. And he asked before you did. What was I supposed to say?"

"That you're already occupied," Greg inserted quickly, locking arms with her as they exited the back room, heading out back to the party floor. "This is like our tradition, how could you just change things around?"

"It's not like that Greg…" she said with a soft sigh. Coming to a stop she glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "How about we have our own little party afterwards? Just you and me. A couple of movies, a few forensic files. What do you say?"

She could see him consider it for a moment, before grinning with a nod. As much as she enjoyed Nick's company, she would rather spend a quiet night with Greg, who was good humored and easy going, willing almost, to try anything. They had been friends for many years, but somehow she found that with passing time their friendship became a little deeper. With a last smile she released his arm, heading off to find the disguised Texan, images of the forthcoming night playing out in her mind.

She could remember the first time she had met him. Greg was…different. She wasn't exactly shy, but she wasn't exactly social. Given her past it wasn't a question as to why. She was sheltered, and yet exposed to the cruelties of the world at a very young age. She knew and understood that trust wasn't something that came along easy. Yet that was one thing she was always able to do, was trust him.

But she never trusted him enough. It wasn't always that. Greg was too sweet of a person to burden him with complications of the past; it was too hard to ask someone to close her past for her. For now Greg was simply a friend. She wasn't ready to move on to any other stage…until now.

Her heart skipped a beat as pulled off her cape, slipping out of her pants. The plastic fangs were digging into her gums now and she winced as she pulled them free. Sara hardly believed the price she was paying for a few simple hours of fun. Her jaw ached from the accessories, the cloth of her costume was tight, finding the material at a thrift store at the last moment, and having it be a size too small. The heels, which she had only worn once or twice before in her life, were pinching her feet. Next year she would make it simple and go as a CSI. Heck, that way she wouldn't even have to put on a fake accent.

Wetting her lips she brushed out her hair, glancing in the mirror one last time before pulling on a change of more comfortable clothing. Greg would be on his way not too much longer. He had, obviously, wanted to change before joining her, and their plans had been put on hold for yet another hour at the very least.

She had missed him, even for the short time. Greg made sure to drop in often, but a few moments within a handful of hours wasn't long enough. It had been a while since they had talked…actually talked, that was. Sara often looked forward to their more serious conversations, the ones that they had when it was only the two of them. A majority of the things she discussed with him were things she wouldn't dare breathe about while someone else was in the room.

Slipping on a pair of pajama bottoms Sara wandered out to the living room. Though small in size it was plenty big enough to house her and Greg, as well as all the food he could consume. Even though he had been nibbling on candy and other sugary sweets the entire night, Sara knew that he would still have room. It was the only reason she had stopped on the way home, forgetting for a moment the humiliation she had to endure teetering into the restaurant on wobbly heels, decked out in clothes that weren't even close to formal wear. It was well worth the Thai Take-out, plus the fact she had picked up a little extra for herself.

She had originally planned on waiting until Greg showed up, but once looking at the clock she realized how much time had actually gone by. It wouldn't be too much longer before he arrived, and she was hungry, having skipped all tasty temptations earlier. With a smile she grabbed her own carton, stretching out on the couch to watch a bit of Cold Case as she began eating, her eyes constantly going to the door at every outside sound.

Ten minutes passed by, and before she knew it another fifteen. Long ago finishing her meal she moved to her feet, discarding the empty container and grabbing a beer from the fridge. After all there wasn't an exact planned time that they were to meet. There could have been a number of things that could have come up. Greg knew far more people than she did, and amazingly enough was able to get along with them all. She knew that he would have called if he was going to be much later.

At least this is what she convinced herself. One hour turned into two, and one beer turned into several. It was somewhere near three in the morning by the time she passed out, thankful for the only fact she wasn't expected in at work until the next night.

It was the shrill ring of her cell that woke her up to a pounding headache, and she groaned, rubbing her temples. Confusion had set in mostly, and it took her a few minutes to relive the night before.

Seeing the empty beer bottles, the still full cartons of food that were now cold, and her cell sitting on the table confirmed her suspicions. Greg had stood her up. She couldn't help but feel the bitter disappointment. It wasn't too much longer however, before her bitterness wore off and was replaced by anger. If Greg hadn't been so persistent she wouldn't have invited him over in the first place. Who was he then, to choose whether or not he wanted to come? And to think all she had done to make the night special.

She let out an irate groan as her phone went off again, moving to her feet despite the sudden surge of pain and stumbled over to the counter. Angrily she snapped it off, shoving in her pocket. More in likely it was Greg, calling to apologize. She didn't even want to hear it, and this way she would be saving his precious breath. After all the years of waiting for Grissom and being turned down she wasn't willing to start the process over once again with yet another male.

She took a few calm breaths, her body shaking with slight rage as well as depression as she struggled with this hangover. She was by no means an alcoholic, at least not anymore. It was the first time in nearly a month she had indulged herself like this, and even longer since she had actually passed out. And this last time it wasn't even intentional, just the mere fact she had lost track of how many she had actually had.

Somehow she managed to make it through the rest of the day. By the time work rolled around she was feeling more like herself, but still a bit tipsy. She figured if she stayed in the lab, and worked on some of the older cases she would be fine. Then again she wondered if that was even possible, considering that it was the night after Halloween. There was always someone who managed to get themselves into trouble.

And by the looks of it, she had been right. The lab was more than busy, it was chaotic. Wall to wall people made it nearly impossible for her to squeeze through, Sara barely hearing the questions of the many reporters that pressed in around reception. Ecklie was doing his best to hold down the fort, the Sheriff yet having to arrive. With a slight roll of her eyes she wondered briefly what was going on that caused this much hype. This was Las Vegas after all, Sin City as they called it. It wasn't like no one had ever died in their town before.

She saw Catherine's face flash with relief when the two crossed paths. The blonde woman had already started talking, leaving Sara with half a hanging sentence as she continued on, pressing a file folder into her open hand. Sara's mouth hung open as she watched her walk away, still holding the folder in her hand as Catherine continued to shout down the hallway.

"Get the processed, page me ASAP with any findings."

"Get what processed?" Sara grumbled, thankful for only the fact that Catherine hadn't noticed she was nearly stark drunk. She flipped through a few of the files as she moved down the hall, briefly reading reports about findings, empty containers, and possible drugs in liquid form. Somehow she had to laugh bitterly. "Welcome to Hell, how long will you be staying?"

"You've heard then?"

Sara glanced up as Warrick moved by, the man stopping only long enough to fill her in. "We've already checked his place, he never made it home, we have the car in the garage, it was found miles away from town. We're thinking car jacking gone bad. We still need to find out if he was drugged or not, make sure you check the syringe for possible transfer, that's important."

Sara smiled briefly before turning away, her head pounding once more. It would be nice if someone actually told her who their victim was. A name and a face would be nice after all. She mused lightly that it had to be someone important…famous more in likely. A singer, perhaps? Sara knew that this weekend was big for the rock stars. There was several scheduled events planned out, it could have been one of them. A kidnapping on Halloween night…the night of the living dead…how ironic.

She passed by the garage door, coming to a stop as glanced at the car. It was a fairly cheap car, especially one for some famous rich person to own. True it more in likely was a rental, but they wouldn't got in such a shabby style. There was something about it, something she couldn't place and it made her take a longer look. Something about a small silver run-down car that was too familiar for comfort. It wasn't until then that she realized why.

It was Greg's car.

Blinking she shook her head; why did Greg have his car in the garage? Come to think of it, where was Greg at all? Sara bit her lip, squashing down the rising fear. It couldn't be, someone would have told her. It was just a big case, it was some rock star, some movie person…not Greg. The car only looked like Greg's; there were a lot of small silver cars out there that were on the dying end. There were a lot of 'he's' in Vegas, a lot of people to worry over, to hype about, it didn't have to be Greg, it couldn't have been Greg…

Tears threatened to over flow and she bit her lip to keep them at bay. It couldn't be Greg…but it was.

Greg, had disappeared.

TBC