This is a response to the YTDAW challenge. It just kept bouncing in my head until out it came! According to Microsoft it is exactly 2000 words.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

"I don't want to know," Brass sighed. Grissom was kneeling in front of a bloodied teenage girl laying on the floor of an abandoned warehouse.

Grissom looked up from the body he was studying and grimaced. "Meet our victim."

Brass was again amazed by the brutality that could be inflicted on innocent people. "She doesn't look older than fourteen! Do I really want to know what happened to her?"

Grissom sat back on his heels. "I'd say, that she was raped and then murdered. David was just here. The cause of death looks like blunt force trauma to the head. We'll know more when we get her to autopsy. According to her liver temp, she's been dead about four hours." He bent down to pick a fiber off the victim's shoulder.

Suddenly, Brass realized they were alone. "Hey," he barked. "Why are you here alone?"

Grissom answered without looking up, "I've got Sara outside covering the perimeter. Don't worry, there are two uniforms around. Besides, what took you so long to get here?"

Brass gave a humorless chuckle. "Traffic in this city. You how it is. But don't try and change the subject. How did Sara take being sent outside? You know she hates when you treat her like that."

"She wasn't happy," Grissom answered. He paused for a second and sighed. "She shouldn't have to deal with this. No one should, but I felt that I could handle it a lot better than she could. These cases always eat at her. You saw how she handled that case with Catherine. I had to put my job on the line to save hers. I don't think Ecklie will let her pull that kind of crap again."

Brass studied his old friend. He knew that this thing, whatever it was, with Sara had to be resolved soon, or two of the people he cared most about in the world would be left in shambles. Shaking his head to clear it, he told Grissom he'd try and find a way to ID the victim.

Stepping gingerly around empty crates and broken bottles, Brass shined his flashlight in every dark corner hoping for some sort of a clue. His break came when the light reflected off a backpack carelessly tossed into a corner. He slowly picked up the backpack and opened the front pocket. A wallet fell out. Opening the wallet, he saw the victim's face smiling at him. He closed his eyes for just a minute as he tried to imagine the terror her last few minutes must have been like. A familiar anger began to well up in his stomach, and he was suddenly and completely focused on making sure this young woman's killer never saw the light of day again.

He walked back over to Grissom with the backpack. "I got a name. Megan Riley. Looks like she would have been a freshman next year. No address, but I'll call the school to get her parents' name."

Grissom nodded, and Brass left him. Grissom continued gathering evidence and taking photos for another fifteen minutes. Then, he gathered his equipment as the coroner's office began to prepare the body for transport. Already, his mind had moved beyond the conversation with Brass to the question of who had brutally attacked this young girl.

Walking outside, he found Sara leaning against the truck. "I didn't get a whole lot," she said by way of greeting. "I found a couple of shoeprints and took photos, but there really wasn't a lot out here. I didn't even find tire tracks. I have no idea how our guy left." With that said, she opened the door and sat in the front seat.

The ride back was quiet. Grissom was afraid that if he tried to explain to Sara his actions, she would simply get angry. So he fell into his usual habit of not saying anything. He didn't even try to discuss the case with her. The only time he spoke to her was as they were pulling in the parking lot. "I'll take the autopsy. I want you to follow the trace and DNA evidence. I was also able to lift a fingerprint off the victim's shoe. Run that for me too."

Sara opened her mouth as if she was going to argue, then closed it again. She opened the door to the car, reached back to grab the evidence bags, then headed off for the lab without waiting for Grissom. He sighed as he watched her knowing that she was still angry. He was just so worried that this case could really shake her. It had already done a number on him.

Sara strode through the hallway without greeting anyone. After dropping off her evidence at the Trace and DNA labs, she rounded the corner to head to the fingerprint lab and ran straight into Nick.

"Whoa, Sara, don't you think you're moving a little too fast there?" Nick asked with a smile. When Sara didn't smile back, he sobered. "What's eating you?"

"It's just the usual," Sara replied. "Once again, Grissom doesn't trust me to handle a crime scene. I guess he's afraid I'm going to go postal or something. I don't get him."

Nick shook his head. "I know you're not going to like to hear this, Sara, but I think Grissom probably has you pegged. My guess is, he thought this one would get to you."

"But, Nick, how can I continue to do my job if I'm always being kept away from scenes that might upset me. I realize that I kind of lost it with Catherine, but I've learned to keep my feelings separate. Everyone seems to understand that except for him. I'm just not sure what I'm going to do." On that note, Sara continued on.

Later that night, Grissom was sitting at his desk contemplating the evidence he had so far. Megan Riley, according to her parents had been a wonderful daughter. She was gifted musically and active at both her school and church. She didn't have a steady boyfriend, but hung around with a large group of friends. "No one who met her disliked her," Brass quoted her mother as saying. Grissom's stomach clenched as he thought about all of the lives that affected by the act of a single, sick individual. He continued to study his notes, hoping for a break of some sort when he heard a soft knock at his door. Looking up, he saw Sara. "Come on in."

Sara walked in and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "I don't have anything yet. Jacqui's running the print through AFIS, so hopefully something will turn up. But that's not the reason I've come."

Grissom took his glasses off and tried to ignore the headache that was building in the back of his head. "Really?" he inquired.

"Grissom, you've got to let me do my job."

"I don't understand what your saying, Sara. I've never stopped you from doing your job."

Sara jumped out of her seat and started pacing the office. "Of course you do. Today. You refused to let me work the scene. You sent me outside like I was some rookie!" She sat back down and looked at him earnestly. "Remember when you came to my apartment when I was on suspension and refused to leave until I told you what my problem was? And remember how I didn't really want to? This is the reason why."

Grissom wished at that moment that women came with some sort of translation manual. He had no idea what Sara was talking about. "Sara, honestly, I don't have a clue what you are talking about."

Sara shook her head at him. "You don't. Do you?" she replied. "Now that you know about my past, you keep trying to protect me from the cases that you think will affect me in a negative way. I'm sure you would have taken one of the guys with you tonight if they'd been available. That's why I don't want people to know about my past. I'm afraid that they'll treat me differently, like you do. You seem to think I'm this hothouse flower who can't withstand any sort of stress. Grissom, you've got to understand that I dealt with an awful lot before I ever met you. I think I'll be OK."

Grissom was shaking his head. "I don't know, Sara. This victim, she'll eat at you. I know she will. Look, you stay on the DNA and fingerprint side, and I'll stick with following the victim side. You are working on this case, and something you find may break it."

Sara stood up quickly and snapped, "Grissom, you can't keep me from doing my job. This is what I love." With that, she turned and stalked out of the office, leaving Grissom to stare after her.

Sara had no more than cleared his office door when Brass walked in. "Boy, she looks a little hot. What did you do now, pal?" Brass joked.

Grissom glared at him. "Drop it Jim," he ordered. "What have you got for me?"

"Well, it appears our victim was at the mall when she was taken. Her mom said she dropped her off there to meet some friends, but when I talked to her friends, they said she never showed. I showed her picture around at a couple of the stores near the entrance where her mom left her, and I think I've got a description of the suspect. We're running the description through our database, but it's going to take a couple of hours. What have you got?"

Grissom was just opening his mouth to answer when his pager went off. It was Sara, telling him she had something at the fingerprint lab.

Jacqui met him at the door. "I've got a match on your print. It belongs to a Sam Davidson. He has a couple of assault and battery priors. Sara's tracking down his last known address right now."

Sara was just headed toward him when he turned. "I've got an address. It's an apartment complex not far from where we found the victim."

Grissom grabbed it from her. "Jim, let's go. Sara, you stay here and put a rush on that DNA evidence. I want to have something to dump on this guy when we get him back here." He headed out without a backwards glance and left Sara standing there dumbfounded.

Unbelievably, it was almost over before it started. Faced with the proof that he had been at the scene and a court order compelling his DNA, Davidson confessed almost before Brass could walk in the room. Grissom was still shaking his head at how easy it had been when he saw Sara waiting in his office. Sitting down at his desk, he noticed the neatly typed letter on it.

"What is this?" he asked in amazement.

"It's my letter of resignation. I'm leaving. If you won't let me do my job here, I go back to California. I was happy there, and it'll be nice to be back."

Grissom realized at that moment how much repair he had to do. "Sara, look, my intention was not to make you feel underappreciated. Remember a long time ago when you said you wished you could be like me and not feel anything. Well, you were wrong. I do feel things. I just have a hard time expressing them. You know that and I know that. My fear is that you'll become like me, afraid to let anybody in. I don't want that kind of life for you."

Sara sighed. "Well, how about you start letting me in a little more. These cases wouldn't weigh so much on us if we shared them. Why don't you let me in?"

Grissom's response was to tear the letter up into tiny pieces and toss them in the trashcan. They watched as the pieces fluttered through the air.