Sara leaned back against the wall forcing the tears not fall, though, her eyes glistened with them and her body shook as she forced back another wave of nausea.

"Can you walk?" asked Catherine using her best concerned-maternal voice.

"Yeah," said Sara, her voice wobbling as she replied.

"Okay, take your time," said Catherine as Sara pushed the paper towels Catherine was holding to her away and attempted to stand on shaking legs. It took Catherine wrapping an arm around her middle and supporting most of her slight weight before Sara was able to stand. "Alright, lets take it slow," instructed Catherine as she began walking step-by-step with Sara, still supporting her. It felt like Catherine was hugging a radiator with the intense heat emanating off Sara.

The two females caused quite a stir when they emerged from the bathrooms. After the lab rats had seen Sara diving in there at high speed they had been discussing what might be going on.

"Hey," detective Jim Brass' voice startled Catherine slightly nearly causing her to lose her grip on Sara, which, she believed, would have sent Sara to the floor. The brunette didn't seem to be holding any of her own weight. "Are you okay? You look…" Brass was searching for a polite way to say horrible.

"Thanks," mumbled Sara barely opening her mouth for fear of the rest of her stomach contents escaping.

"Could you help me get her to the car?" asked Catherine. Brass promptly went to Sara's aide, wrapping an arm just under Catherine's and taking most of Sara's weight; though there wasn't much to take. The two managed to get Sara to the garage without incident and after the glare Catherine gave Hodges for staring all the lab techs had busied themselves.

"I can walk by myself," muttered Sara feeling slightly better. Enough so that she could argue about been looked after, even if she needed it.

"You're doing a great job of it," replied Catherine sarcastically as Sara sat in the passenger seat of her Tahoe.

"I must be better if you mocking me," replied Sara leaning back in the chair trying to curl her legs up to ease the pain in her stomach.

"Well, I've got to get you out of here because if I leave you around the lab too long someone will think David lost a corpse and take you to the morgue. You're going home. No arguments."

Sara knew she wasn't well enough to be at work, she just didn't want to admit it.

"Jim, can you do me a big favour?" asked Catherine giving her best smile. "Tell Ecklie what's going on and let him know Greg's going to help Nick."

"Oh, I get all the best jobs," said Brass monotone.

"If he argues just send him around and I'll get Sara to projectile vomit on him."

"Urgh," came a small moan from the car as one of Sara's eye prised open.

"Sorry," smiled Catherine brushing Sara's hair from her face.

"I'm not a dog. Don't pet me," said Sara in a voice so low it could have been a growl.

"Good Sara," grinned Catherine stroking her head knowing Sara didn't have the energy to do anything about it.

"I'm sick, leave me alone," muttered Sara.

"Brass, you heard that an admission," shouted Catherine getting into the car as Brass walked away.

"No wonder Lindsey doesn't admit she's sick if this is how you treat her," said Sara eyes once again closed.

"Well if you weren't both so stubborn I wouldn't…." Catherine trailed of her rant seeing the brunette curl herself up on the seat as she pulled off. "You okay?"

Sara didn't reply but drew her knees up as far as she could wrapping her arms around her stomach. It suddenly occurred to Catherine she hadn't thought this all the way through; Sara was looking decidedly green and she had nothing should Sara get sick. Not that it mattered much when Sara was ill, but still, the prospect of having to clean her car wasn't welcoming.

"I don't want to puke in your car," came a whisper as if she had read Catherine's mind.

"Its okay, the car will clean. It's you I'm worried about now," replied Catherine trying to turn the corner as gently as possible and not jolt the car.

"Gil, come home soon," muttered Sara leaning her head against the cool glass. She didn't know she'd said it out loud, she just wanted him to be there, holding her, making her feel better. Instead of the phone call each night where after she hung up she'd sit on the floor crying. She knew he was coming back she didn't even understand why she cried.

"You really don't feel well do you?" Asked Catherine softly as the younger woman trembled slightly as her stomach cramped.

Catherine drove for the twenty minutes to Sara and Grissom's town house in silence with the odd noise coming form Sara. She'd been to Grissom's once since Sara moved in but that was only a step inside the door while Grissom grabbed a file. No time to examine the inside.

"Are you okay to walk?" asked Catherine turning the engine off as she parked in the drive.

"Yeah," replied Sara reluctantly moving her head from the door. Catherine went around and helped Sara out, taking the house keys from her pocket. It took Catherine two attempts to find the right key and Sara wasn't much help, leaning up against her mumbling. Once inside Sara went straight to the sofa laying down and curling up not even bothering to look at what Catherine was doing. Catherine dropped the keys on the counter after shutting the door. The décor had changed since it was just Grissom; although framed butterflies still lined the walls they had been painted lilac. Defiantly not Grissom's choice and there were items lying around indicating someone actually lived there rather than the sterile environment before. Pictures of Grissom and Sara were dotted around in frames. Just as Catherine picked one of Sara and Grissom on a beach up barking caused her to drop it.

"Hank," muttered Sara as the offending dog ran into the room barking.

"Whoa, he doesn't bite, does he?" asked Catherine as the dog ran at her then sat in front of her, tail wagging.

"No," mumbled Sara. "Hank go to bed," commanded Sara as best she could. Catherine patted the dog before he ran off again.

"Hank?" she said with a smile going over to Sara who was still lying down. "Who chose that name?"

"The last owner; we tried different ones but he only answers to Hank," said Sara.

"How appropriate," grinned Catherine.

"You can go now," muttered Sara opening her eyes. "Ecklie will be having a fit."

"I don't give a damn about Ecklie. This was supposed to be my night off."

"Then don't spend it here," replied the sick female taking deep breath as nausea washed over her.

"You're not getting rid of me. Now where's your thermometer?" asked Catherine standing up and walking towards the hallway.

"Bathroom cabinet," replied Sara not having the energy to fight her.

Catherine found the bathroom after having a quick peek at all the other rooms even though the bathroom was the first one she came to. The nosey blonde took the thermometer and some aspirin back to Sara.

"No pills," Sara as she sat up. "I don't want to put anything in my body."

"You need to keep drinking water or you'll get dehydrated," said Catherine sticking the thermometer in Sara's ear. She was certain Sara had a fever from her flushed face and the heat coming of her. Sure enough the thermometer beeped at 101.9

"Well done, you have a fever. I'm going to get you some water," said Catherine going into the kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards until she found a glass, a bowl and a washcloth. She filed the bowl and glass with water and went back over to where Sara was sitting rocking slightly.

"Stomach hurting?" asked Catherine dropping the cloth into the water.

"Yeah," muttered Sara grateful for the cool as the cloth was pressed against her forehead. She sat for a moment enjoying the brief relief when she felt the bile begin to rise in her throat again.

"I'm gonna be sick," Sara got out all in one breath while pushing Catherine. Luckily Catherine possessed decent reflexes. She had grabbed the nearby trashcan and shoved it under Sara just in time.

"Thanks," muttered Sara gratefully taking the glass of water when she was done coughing on the fowl taste.

Once Catherine had Sara settled again, lying down with the washcloth draped over her forehead, Catherine found an old bucket and brought it over encase Sara got sick. Sitting down it hit her how tired she was because the next thing she knew she was been woken by the toilet flushing.

Rubbing her eyes to wake herself up Catherine saw a very pale Sara emerge from the hallway holding onto the wall for support.

"You've been sick again?" asked Catherine going over to her and helping her back to the sofa.

"No. I think it's a stomach virus," replied Sara laying down arms wrapped around her abdomen.

"Lindsey had that the a couple weeks ago. You defiantly need to keep drinking water," said Catherine feeling Sara's forehead again and trying to decide if she was getting worse.

"Cath no," said Sara in the best stern voice she could manage but Catherine kept the glass there until Sara drank a few mouthfuls. Then she let her lay down again and within a few minutes Sara was asleep, her body exhausted.

Once Sara was asleep Catherine slipped outside the back door and pulled out her cell phone not wanting to wake Sara. She dialled. It rang for a while then went to voicemail.

"This is Gil Grissom, leave a message."

"Gil its Catherine. Sara's really sick and she could use some cheering up. Call me back at your house."

TBC …………………