Duel for Love

Author: Lolly4Holly

Pairings: GSR - Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle

Warnings: Sex. Violence. Drugs. Alcohol. The usual CSI stuff.

Summary: Lady Heather, Sofia Curtis, Julia Gilbert, Lily Flynn, Teri Miller, Wendy Simms, Mandy Webster, Sara Sidle... how can one man have so much attention and be so clueless? Grissom was fine just breezing through his life, filling his days with work, roller coasters and bugs. He didn't think he needed anything else, but there's a sudden feeling of an empty space in his life that needs to be filled with the love of a companion. At least that's what he's hoping for, but he gets a lot more than he bargained for, making him wonder if he made the right choice.

Author's Note: Thought of this idea after watching some rerun episodes of CSI: Las Vegas with Lady Heather and Grissom in them. This is a GSR fic. I'm saying this because I don't want people to assume that I'm going to pair him with someone else from the way the characters interact and flame me again. My last big GSR fic a lot of people jumped to conclusions thinking I was pairing, Sara with Nick, simply because I did a few scenes with them together. I assure you, this is a GSR fic all the way, but there will be some bumps in the road. Set around seasons 3/4/5/6 but it's a little AU-ish because I jumbled up the episodes a little to suit my story. You may recognise parts of episodes, but don't expect the same outcome. :)

Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoy this story. I've written most of this story already, but it still needs some work. I'll upload as regularly as I can. I'm beta reading it myself at the moment, because everyone I've asked is too busy over the summer, so all mistakes are my own. As always, I only ask that if you've read and enjoyed my work, please remember to review. I'd love to hear what you think.

Enjoy!

~ Holly

Chapter One - Gestation

In a mother's eyes, a child can do no wrong.

If there's a report of a problem in school, it's clearly the teachers fault. If they're fighting with another student, it's clearly the other child's fault, specifically the bad parents who raised that child and if your daughter tells you she decided to drop out of Harvard to travel for a while, but the school board tell you something different, they're clearly lying.

"My daughter would never show up drunk to an exam. This is preposterous." Lady Heather slammed the letter she had received onto The Dean's desk, rolling her eyes at the woman. "Everything you've written here is a complete fabrication of the truth. Zoe is a straight A student. Why would she need to steal the exam results? She knows all of this like the back of her hand."

When Zoe was six years old, she took her to the park for a day out on the swings. She watched as another mother scolded her daughter for no entire reason, before she gave that woman a piece of her mind. She claimed that Zoe had purposely kicked her daughter after she asked to go on the swing. Of course the woman was lying, Zoe would never do such a thing. She was a good girl. It was clearly the other girl's fault for walking in front of her when she was swinging through the air.

"Ms Kessler," The smartly dressed woman climbed to her feet from her desk, turning the letter to face the clueless mother. "Believe what you will, we've been observing your daughter here for the last two years and quite frankly, I think you don't know what she's capable of. This isn't the first time we've warned her about her drinking on campus. She not only stole the exam results from a locked office, but she sold them to other students. One student came forwards with this information..."

"Well, they're lying." Heather snapped at her. "My daughter has no reason to lie to me. She told me that she's been set up. This other student is clearly framing her, because they're jealous of Zoe's academic achievements."

The Dean couldn't help but smile at the naive woman. "Your daughter's behaviour this past year has been outrageous. We will not accommodate someone like her in this school. Your daughter is out of Harvard, Ms Kessler. I suggest you accept that. Now if you don't mind, I have a meeting to get to." She glanced at her watch, before she packed up her briefcase on the desk. "I think your daughter needs some serious help. The longer that you ignore this, the worse it will get."

"It's more likely that you are the one who needs help, you stuck up old bag." Storming out of the Dean's office, Lady Heather kicked her heel at the wall outside, giving the receptionist a glare. She was usually so held together, but she couldn't control this emotional outburst where her daughter was concerned.

Her daughter would never do any of these things they were accusing her of. Sleeping with a man at least double her age, destroying school property, drinking on campus, stealing exam results... it just wasn't like her.

These lies had to stop. What did they have against her daughter to target her like this?

Stepping into the locker room of the Las Vegas crime lab, Sara Sidle sighed softly, dropping to the bench in the middle of the room. It had been a long day. She wrapped up her case of the overdose victim in the early hours of the morning, so her supervisor decided to stick her with Catherine for the rest of the day. She would have been grateful had it been any other case, but she wasn't ready to deal with the beaten and broken body of an abused victim so soon.

Courtney Dell, forty two years old and so like her mother.

The only difference, Courtney wasn't strong enough to end the violence on her own. She couldn't believe the woman had just suffered through it for twenty two years of marriage, raising three children in the process. Sara had watched her own mother do the same thing for nearly eight years of her life, but unlike Courtney, her mother decided to take things into her own hands and stab her father to death. She used to hate her for what she did, taking her father away from her like that. She used to believe that her mother was the one who ruined their whole lives, but the more she started to understand the control these abusers had over the victims, the more she started to hate herself for never being there for her mother.

Glancing up as the door beside her opened, Sara allowed her lips to tug into a smile, seeing the youngest member of their team all dressed up. "Wow, nice suit, Greg." She whistled. "Hot date?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be wearing this. They'd leg it out the door before I even got close wearing this." He remarked, stepping over to his locker. "I'm giving my evidence in court today. For my case. This is part of the job that I would like to avoid. I look like a total dork." Greg anxiously combed his fingers through his flat hair, dying for some gel to stick it up.

"Wow Greg, I did not know that your hair could do that. It looks so tamed." Sara pushed herself to her feet, gently turning the younger man to face her. She flattened a spike in his hair, before she adjusted the neck of his tie, tucking it beneath the collar of his freshly ironed shirt. "You look good. Very smart. They're gonna think you're a pro and a part of the nerd squad." She assured him, brushing some lint off his shoulder.

"Nerd squad?" He cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

"Yeah, that's what they call us science types. Don't forget to refer to your victim by name, makes it feel more like you care about bringing them justice and don't look at the suspect when you're talking about your evidence. Look at the jury, they're the ones who need to hear what you're saying. Just remember to speak slowly. I know that's hard for you, especially when you're nervous, but you want the jury to hear every word you say."

Sara smiled at him, dusting off the lint from his suit jacket.

"Use simple terms. Grissom once told me to think of the jury as a group of first graders. Pretend that they don't know anything about anything, which is probably true anyway. Don't bring emotion into it and don't let the defence attorney muddle you up. Stick to the facts. Don't be nervous, you're gonna nail it."

"Thanks." He inhaled a deep breath, feeling a little more at ease about it. "Are you heading home?"

"Wish I could," Sara sighed, turning towards her locker behind her. "I'm preparing myself to go and interrogate our domestic violence murder suspect with Catherine. The abusive bastard was denying any involvement in his wife's murder all the way over here. There's years of evidence, going back to the night of their wedding. I'm really not looking forward to the next part."

"Can't you sit it out?" Greg queried, pushing his locker closed. "I'm sure Catherine won't mind. We all have our tough cases. Nick can't be alone with child abusers. Remember that guy he almost threw through the window before Brass got in there? Catherine loses it with rapists and Grissom completely flipped over that dead baby case."

"He did?" Sara glanced round at him, trying to recall the last time she ever saw the man flip out. She didn't think it was possible. He just didn't express that kind of emotion.

"Yeah, don't you remember? Back when I was in the lab. I was processing the results of a different case. Grissom wanted his evidence to jump the queue to find the baby. He destroyed half the evidence from one of my other cases by throwing it out in the hall in his temper. I had to get new samples from Doc Robbins. You know how much he hates that." He bent to tie the shoe lace of his posh new shoes, straightening up with a big deep breath. "Into the fire I go."

"You're gonna be fine." Sara assured him once again, giving him a smile as he walked away. "Good luck." She reached for the bag in the bottom of her locker once he was gone, pulling out the little box she had stashed inside. She had a few minutes to spare before the interrogation started, but she still wasn't sure if she really wanted to know.

It wasn't exactly something she had ever thought about. Come to think of it, she hadn't thought of a lot of things.

Sara had never pictured a big white wedding as a child. She had a foster sister who used to act out her own wedding with a pillow case over her head and a teddy bear as a groom, but Sara never saw the appeal. She hated playing with dolls growing up, especially the ones that cried and wet their diapers. She preferred to bury her nose in a book. Usually a crime thriller tale, but she read the occasional love story that wasn't overly cheesy and usually contained a tragedy.

When the girls in Highschool started discussing the names of their future children or what their future husbands did for a living, Sara was focusing on her studies, eager to get as far away from her old life as she could. She certainly never pictured her prince charming, her fantasy wedding or the prospect of becoming pregnant and having children of her own one day.

After everything her own mother put her through, motherhood for herself was the last thing on her mind.

She didn't want a child. She didn't want to be pregnant.

It just wasn't something that she wanted in life.

Sighing again, Sara tore open the box, deciding that taking the test was the only way to find out for sure. She couldn't make any future plans without knowing what she was planning for. If the result came back positive, then she could start worrying about it all. But if it was negative, she could forget it ever happened and just get on with her life.

She only prayed that she got the result she wanted.

Making a bee line for the ladies room, Sara made sure no one else was inside by checking the other stalls, before she locked the exterior door. She proceeded to read the back of the pregnancy test box at least six or seven times. She had never taken one herself before, but she had done it for a victim before. She had a cup of urine then, holding the end of the pregnancy test in it for a few seconds, before it came back with the pregnant result a few minutes later.

She hoped that wasn't the result this time around, but there was only one way to find out.

Sara took the test into the first stall with her, loosening the jeans around her hips, before she squatted over the toilet bowl. She never liked sitting down on public toilets. She knew the cleaners in this building were good, but it was still a public toilet. She tried to angle the test into the right position as the flow started, making another quick prayer for the test to be negative.

She wasn't the religious type, but if the man upstairs was ever going to help her out, now would be the perfect time.

Once she was done, Sara capped the test, leaving it on the toilet tank, while she washed her hands. She tried the first two tanks of the soap dispensers, but they were both empty. The third one finally squirted out some bubbles, but it wasn't enough. She moved over to the fourth, noticing a heart covered hair clip on the sink counter.

"Aunt Sara?" A small voice called from behind her.

Sara quickly spun around, spotting little, Lindsey Willows sat on the toilet in the last open stall, with tears in her eyes. It was the disabled toilet, so she didn't think to check it. The toilet hadn't been used by anyone in nearly three years.

Sara quickly dried her hands, feeling a little awkward as she made her way over to the crying little girl. "Hi, Lindsey. What are you doing here? Does your Mom know that you're here?"

Seven year old, Lindsey rubbed the tears from her eyes, shaking her head at the woman. "Dad dropped me off."

"Isn't it his day to look after you?" Sara noticed a heart covered clip on the left side of Lindsey's little head, pinning back her strawberry blonde hair, but the one on the right was missing. That solved that mystery. "Let's get you up, yeah?" She double checked that it was okay with her, before she helped her off the toilet.

Lindsey pulled her panties up herself, showing a little too much of her leg as she did.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Sara noticed the bruise on the back of her leg right away. "Did somebody do this to you?" Letting her CSI brain kick in, she examined the strap shaped bruise on the thigh of the little girl, guessing that a belt caused it from the size and length of it. "Did Daddy do this to you? Sweetie, you won't be in trouble, but you have to tell me if someone hurt you. Tell me the truth."

Lindsey continued to rub her puffy little eyes, giving the woman in front of her a slight nod. "Don't tell my Mommy." She grabbed hold of the woman's hands in front of her, giving her a pleading look. "She'll be mad."

"She'll be mad at your Daddy, not you. He hurt you, Lindsey. He's not allowed to do that."

"No. I broke it." The child protested, clutching Sara's hands a little tighter. "I didn't mean to. Daddy got mad at me. He said Mommy will be mad too."

"What did you break?" Sara queried, trying to keep her mind focused rather than losing her temper with a man she barely knew.

"The mirror in Mommy's room." Lindsey confessed, releasing Sara's hand to rub her eye again. "I was practising my cartwheels in the house, because it was raining outside. Daddy told me off for doing it in the family room, so I went upstairs. Mommy's room is the biggest, so I practised in there. I fell into Mommy's mirror and it smashed."

"Then your Daddy hit you?" Sara guessed.

Lindsey quickly shook her head, making Sara furious as he had clearly scared her into silence. She left the ladies room with Lindsey at her side, frantically searching the lab for her mother. She found her in the break room, laughing over a cup of coffee with Warrick.

"Have you seen what he's done to her?" Sara barged straight into the room, dragging the child in behind her. "Look what he did to your daughter. How can you leave her with a man like that, Catherine? You're supposed to be her mother. Do you know how irresponsible this is?"

"What?" Catherine quickly set down her coffee, rushing over to her daughter's side. She immediately picked her up as she saw the tears in her eyes, hugging her tightly against her chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Did Daddy just drop you off? Why didn't he come find me?"

"Maybe because he felt guilty." Sara continued to shout. "Show your mother what he did, Lindsey. Show her!"

"But..." Lindsey trembled as her mother placed her down on a chair, thinking she was in trouble as her mother examined the bruise for herself. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to."

"He's even got her thinking that this was her fault!"

"Sara... would you just calm down." Catherine cut her off, gently lifting her daughter's chin to look her in the eyes. "Honey, can you tell me what happened? You're not in any trouble, but you have to tell me the truth." She couldn't believe that the Eddie she loved and trusted would do such a thing to their own daughter. Sure the man was an asshole, but he treated their daughter like she was a princess. The man she knew would never lay a hand on her. "C'mon sweetie, how did you get the bruise?"

"I fell into your mirror." Lindsey finally spoke, anxiously looking at the three adults around her. Boy was she in trouble now. "I was practising cartwheels in your bedroom."

"And you fell into my mirror?" Catherine examined the bruise a little closer, noticing the odd imprints of her floral engraved mirror frame. "Is that where you got this bruise?" She could see the almost perfect imprint of one of the flowers from her frame.

Lindsey nodded her head, letting her tears flow again. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to."

"I don't care about the mirror, Linds." She double checked her daughter for signs of any other injuries, relieved that Eddie didn't do this. "Daddy didn't hurt you?" She had to ask.

"She's lying!" Sara protested, watching the child shaking her head. "He's clearly scared her into silence."

"Sara, would you just..." Catherine grabbed her by the arm, leading her out into the hall.

"Hey Linds," Warrick tried to distract her daughter. "Would you like a hot chocolate? I'm sure we have some stashed around here somewhere." He smiled at her, making a move towards the kitchen cupboards. He glanced over his shoulder to check on his colleagues, worried about what Catherine might do.

"Thank you for your concern, but she's my daughter." Catherine pointed out to the other woman. "Let me handle this, okay? Eddie would never hurt her."

"Choosing your ex over your own daughter, that'll get you far." She scoffed, threatening, "If you don't report this, I will."

"Just stay out of it, Sara." The woman snapped at her this time. "This is my business. Did you even ask, Lindsey what happened or did you just jump to your own conclusions like you've been doing all day with our case? Every time we get a case with even the hint of domestic violence, you go off the deep end like this. What is your problem, Sara?"

"My problem? What's your problem, Catherine?" She immediately turned it around on her. "At least I don't let my feelings for men cloud my judgement about the cases we work. Just because he's good in bed, does not mean he's good for your kid. Why don't you try thinking with your brain rather than what's under your skirt?"

Catherine folded her arms across her chest, a look of shock on her face as she glared at the woman in front of her.

"Sidle!"

A voice barked her name from behind them, before Catherine even had a chance to speak.

Ecklie.

Of course.

"My office, now." He ordered.

Sara turned to make sure it was who she thought it was, sighing heavily it was so typical of lab supervisor, Conrad Ecklie to walk by at a time like that. She reluctantly followed him back to his office, listening to his usual bullshit of a disciplinary action.

"This isn't the first time I've had to call you in here, Sara." He closed his office door behind her, making his way towards his desk. "I'm very disappointed in you. You're a law enforcement officer. An outburst of emotions to a fellow colleague like this reflects badly on us. You're here to represent the Las Vegas Police Department to the city that we protect. That means that you are expected to conduct yourself in an appropriate manner, both in and outside of the lab." Ecklie disciplined her, pulling her file out of his desk again. "What is your beef with Catherine Willows?"

"I don't have a beef with her." She used the man's own term, rolling her eyes at him. "What I said... it was taken completely out of context... you have no idea what we were even talking about."

"It's not the first time you've shouted at her in full view of your colleagues though, is it? Catherine Willows is a supervisor. She's your superior, which means you treat her with respect. I can't let this go on any longer." He examined Sara's file in front of him. "You have a total lack of respect for your colleagues, your superiors... if Gil even bothered to fill out your performance reviews, you'd be long gone from this place."

"That's because he's not a kiss ass like you." She immediately snapped. Once she got started, she couldn't seem to stop though. "He prioritises the victims over lab politics. The way it's supposed to be. Maybe if you did that, you could be at least half as good as him, but you're not. You're a rubbish CSI, so they bumped you up to management to keep you away from the real work."

"One week suspension, without pay." Ecklie bellowed, pointing his finger at her. "And don't go running to Grissom to bail you out again. He might let your behaviour slide on a daily basis around here, because he has some kind of soft spot for you, but he's not here at the moment, so I don't have to put up with it. You're lucky I'm not firing you. Get out of here, I'll have Stokes finish up your case with Willow. At least he has respect for his superiors, even if he is a total screw up."

Sara rolled her eyes at the man, feeling her blood starting to boil. "You know what, you can stick your stupid suspension, you ignorant asshole. I quit." She barked back at him.

"If that's what you want, fine. Get out of my sight." He flung his arm towards the door.

Sara unclipped the ID from her jeans, tossing it onto his desk. "Asshole!" She stormed out of his office, desperately wanting to put her fist through something. She settled for clenching her nails tightly into her palm instead, avoiding eye contact with anyone else who could piss her off.

Seriously, could this day get any worse?

Remembering her discarded pregnancy test in the ladies room, Sara hurried back before anyone noticed her, finding the stick right where she left it. She flipped it over, feeling her heart begin to slow as she looked at the tiny screen.

It couldn't be true. There was no way this could be real. How was this even possible?

Pregnant!

She was pregnant.

Pregnant . . . pregnant . . . pregnant.

No doubt about it.

"Fuck!"

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought.

Enjoy your summer!

~ Holly