A/N: Okay, this idea just POPPED out at me. It was begging to be written. In fact it's been bugging me for at least a week and it finally got its way. So, the basic theme is…Grissom fucked up…again. Nick was there for Sara…again. I think we all get the picture…again. Hey, later I might even throw in some Cath-Sara catfight-y angst-y bitchiness. It could be pretty fun. BTW, bubbeleh is girlie or child in Yiddish, oy is self-explanatory, and kvetch is to bitch, as is kvell.

Oh, and I don't own them.

Rating: PG-13 for some LANGUAGE in which Sara gives Grissom the verbal smackdown he so richly deserves.

Didn't I see this on Days of Our Lives? by Lowrider Angel

Chapter One: Can't take this shit no mo'

(Otherwise known as; Sara loses it)
"Oh. My. God." Sara Sidle clenched her hands. "That man makes me so furious." Actually, so furious didn't even begin to cover it. So furious was maybe a tenth of the way there. Murderous was closer. Homicidal was almost there. Ready to rip Grissom's testicles out with a pair of pliers was about as close as Sara figured she was gonna get.
Sara was tired of Grissom's little fucked up push-and-pull game. Whenever Sara got too close, watch out, Grissom would push her away at speeds only seen by bullet trains. To far away from him and he would be sweet and sensitive. Sara would forgive him and suddenly, "oh look, Sophia."
I hate him. Sara pounded her locker in frustration. With rage violent enough to scare the Irish Republican Army, Sara let forth with a barrage of curses and screams, beating her fists into the industrial gray metal of her locker.

Nick Stokes heard the screams from all the way down the hall. Terrified that something was wrong, he burst into the locker room to see Sara beating the shit out of her locker. "Sara." He tried, gingerly moving closer. He could see she wasn't angry so much as confused, hurt, and tired. "Oh, Sara." He put his hand on her shoulder and drew her into his embrace. Not to be deterred, Sara's fists only landed on his chest. Damn that woman can hit. Nick thought. Slowly enough though Sara's punches stopped and she let herself be hugged by him. She cried and cried, just letting Nick hold her. When she was finished she wiped her tears.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She told Nick, motioning to his shirt.
"Sara, it's water. It'll dry. I want you to tell me what is going on."
Sara shook her head. "I'm sorry Nick, it's just to personal."
Nick nodded. "I totally get it. If you need someone to talk to, call me anytime. You know I'm always here for you, right?"
Sara nodded. "Yeah. I really appreciate it."
"Hey, don't even think about it. It's what friends do, right?"
"Right." Sara whispered.

Sleep. Ha! Sara's brain laughed. What, you thought you'd actually be able to fall asleep tonight. Right. Geez Sara, I thought you went to Harvard. Sara shifted onto her side, willing the voice to go away.
No dice. Admit it Sara, Grissom doesn't want you. He wants a puppet. You think you love him. You tell yourself you couldn't hate him this much if you weren't so goddamned in love with him. I got news for you bubbeleh. It ain't true. You could totally hate Grissom this much without loving him. But go ahead. Be miserable. Keep going after Grissom. You'll just end up hurting the few people who care about you. And with that, Sara's inner voice disappeared, leaving her to her restless sleep.

Sara's mother always told her that a dream represented something else. Sara was pretty sure this dream was self-explanatory.

Grissom was punching a little clown on springs with Sara's face on it. The clown Sara popped back up over and over and over again. Slowly the clown Sara lost it's spring. It came back slower and slower. Eventually the clown Sara stopped. Grissom stared at the puppet for a few minutes until – WHAMMO! The clown Sara's head whacked it's forehead into Grissom's, hopped off his desk, and bounced out the door.

I have got to stop having coffee before bed. Sara reflected on her dream. It was obvious. Grissom kept pushing her away. She came back every time, but slower. Eventually she had to stop. And then, whammo, she had to crack Grissom one in the forehead. Sara had done the slowing down thing. Even Grissom's kindness after her near DUI hadn't been enough. His concerned attitude wasn't good enough anymore.His sweet – and totally random – comments weren't enough anymore.
It was time to smack Grissom's forehead.

The plan was simple. The emotions, less so. Sara was sick to her stomach with what she planned to do. Nick was such a nice guy and Sara was going to be the biggest bitch ever. Sara couldn't believe herself.
The plan? Get Nick. She knew he wanted her. The gazes, the flirting, the exceptionally caring attitude…it all added up. So Nick it was. She would flaunt her relationship with Nick in front of Grissom and then when Grissom took his step forward in their stupid waltz, Sara would this time have him. She and Nick would eventually "get serious" and that's when Grissom would make his move. Some grand, dramatic gesture meant to hook Sara and reel her in. Sara would leave Nick for Grissom. She'd wait until Grissom was too far in and then she'd push him away. Leave him. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

Oh yeah, and get the Hell out of Las Vegas.

A/N: Soooooo, what do you think? Should I be burned alive at the stake for writing such horrible crap or should I keep going? Reviews! Reviews! I also would love input! What would you guys like to see? I have some ideas, but feedback and suggestions are always welcomed. However, flames will be used to roast marshmallows and set of firecrackers on New Year's Eve!

-Anna