A/N: Thank you guys for all the reviews, you guys are awesome :D

I wake up and I'm surrounded by this familiar warmth. I feel arms wrapped around my waist and reach down to gently remove them so I can move. She groans.

"Hey," I whisper. She looks so adorable when she's asleep and I hate to disturb her, especially because I know the things she did to me last night probably exhausted her. I finally succeed in removing her arms and when she finds she can't hold onto me any longer she rolls over so that her back is facing me in defiance. God she's just like Lindsey.

Moving up to get in a more comfortable position, I sit at the top of the bed and gently brush a strand of hair away from her face as I watch her sleep. I've never quite felt this way about anyone before… not about my first boyfriend, or my second… and definitely not Eddie. So what if she's a woman, she's also… the only person in my life who's truly made me feel important. The only person who's ever made me feel loved.

I lean over to pull the sheets further up her body, content with the thought of just laying here with her in bed all day. I have the day off and she's still suspended which is something I never thought I'd be thankful for. As I start to pull the covers up and over her I notice something… something I didn't notice before.

I probably didn't notice it before because I was too damn intoxicated with her last night. I wasn't drunk; I was just… too concentrated on tasting her wine to really think.

I frown as I move the sheets down her bare back and she shivers. I'm about to apologize when I realize what it is I'm looking at. They're scars. Not a few scars, many scars- long ones, short ones, thin ones, fat ones, scars of any shape or size. How did she get these, did… someone hurt her?

As if she's read my mind she rolls over and yawns, cracking open both eyes to gaze up at me. Just staring into her eyes for a minute I've already forgotten what it was I was looking at just moments before. "Hey," she whispers.

"Hey," I smile back, "Good morning."

"Good morning," she yawns back, slowly sitting up. She reaches over onto the nightstand to grab something to tie her hair up with and I catch another glimpse of her back. As she tucks stray strands of auburn hair behind her ears I can see the confusion in her eyes. "What is it?" she asks me.

"Your back…" I softly tell her, "I saw the scars… did someone hurt you, Sara?" There's no way she can deny it now or make up some lame excuse. I saw them with my own two eyes. I'm no medical expert but I can tell they're more than a few years old.

She stares at me for a minute, her gaze piercing right through me as I watch her retreat back into her little psychological shell. There's that damn lip-biting of hers again. I can't take it anymore.

"Sara, please," I whisper, "Don't lie to me anymore… I'm not trying to make things worse for you; I just want to know so I can help you…"

"Why?" she asks me, "It's not like you love me."

"Sara," I sigh. I would say I love her but I'm just not ready to make such a big decision yet. I can feel something there between us… so why can't I say anything? Am I too afraid to love again? "Look, there's something between us, I'm not denying that," I explain. "I haven't had the best experiences in the field of love, so… I'm not ready to say it yet. But there's something here, and I definitely care about you…"

She nods slowly, but I can tell she's not exactly satisfied. Slowly, however, her shell begins to melt. "…Promise to keep this between us?" she asks me in a whisper, the pain etched on her face. Oh we're treading in some dark waters now, folks.

"Of course, Sara," I tell her, "I won't tell anyone else."

"Not even Grissom," she says, "I told him part of the story because he pushed me but not all of it…"

"I won't tell Gil," I agree. "This stays between us."

Finally she looks satisfied and she moves to get comfortable, bringing her knees up to her chest. "My family wasn't exactly like other families," she starts, "Not some happy-go-lucky Mickey-Mouse-Club house members without any troubles in the world. They tried to deny it all they wanted but I knew," she slowly looks down at the bed sheets, refusing to make eye contact, "I knew," she whispers.

I decide not to say anything about it and let her stay in her comfort zone. "Well I thought my family was out-there, what with my mom being a showgirl and all…"

"Your mother did that to support you, didn't she?" she bluntly asks me.

"All of us," I tell her.

She nods and bites her lip, looking back down at the sheets like it was the answer she was expecting. "My family's motivation and morals will… forever be a mystery," she says with some sort of a half-smile, "I couldn't buy my own clothes because they made me look like a tramp but my father could go out every night and drink himself silly if he wanted to."

I cautiously move toward her, wanting to comfort her and let her know I'm here but respecting her space.

"Everything started to go downhill after my parents' B&B went out of business," Sara continues, "The bills started coming in, the money stopped coming in. We ended up having to live in a hotel for a while before we could finally afford a house with the help of my mother's parents."

I nod slowly to let her know I'm listening. Suddenly she breaks the silence we've eloped into and laughs.

"They really were a piece of work, you know that?" she asks me. "We got it shut down because the customers were scared to come back. My… father always had a bad temper," she says, "That combined with the alcohol made… every night a living hell."

I shoot her a sympathetic look, trying to restrain myself from pulling her into an embrace.

"He started hitting us when I was about seven," she whispers.

I can even feel my eyes widen as she says this.

"He wasn't my father anymore, he was a monster, and I tried so hard to accept it, I really did," she shoots me the saddest of smiles as she puts a hand over her mouth, trying her hardest not to start crying. "But... after every beating, every night I assumed one day he would stop and just… go back to his old self. Needless to say he didn't," she whispers.

"Sara," I softly tell her, reaching a hand out toward her now, "Honey its okay to cry…" I tell her. I know she hates looking weak but she doesn't understand that it's not a sign of weakness. It's humanism.

Sniffling back the tears that are about to fall down her face she's determined to finish her story, "One night he came home and there wasn't any beer left in the fridge," she whispers, "He had drank it all the night before and didn't tell my mom so she didn't know to go out and buy more. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework. I tried to ignore him, but my father was the type that doesn't exactly make it easy to tune him out."

Finally I succeed in putting a hand on her shoulder and I gently rubbing up and down her back.

"He pushed me through a window," she whispers. "I guess the scars never healed that well, huh?" she offers a weak laugh and I can tell she's about to break.

"Oh Sara," I whisper. I had no idea she had to deal with all of that… and at such a young age. How has she managed to keep it in this long? I finally pull her toward me before she can say anything against it and to my surprise me buries her shaking frame in my arms, letting her tears fall for once in her life. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with all of that on your own," I whisper, gently rubbing up and down her back with my hand, trying my hardest not to stare at any of the offending scars. Every time I catch a glance I just want to hold her and never let go.

"My mother killed him on my thirteenth birthday," she tells me between her cries, "And I saw everything, every goddamned thing!"

"Oh Sara," I only hold onto her tighter now as she starts crying even harder, "What happened?"

"She stabbed him," she whispers, "She stabbed him, and she just kept stabbing him over and over and over again… and I can't remember everything, Cat," she whispers, "The smell of the air, the color of the sky that night, the image of the knife as it…" I can feel her start to gag and I move away just in time to grab the trash bin for her as she empties the contents of her stomach.

"It's okay, honey," I gently tell her as I rub her back. "It's okay, just let it out…"

"Oh Cath!" she throws herself against me completely broken down in tears and I immediately wrap my arms around her body, running my fingers through her soft brown hair and rubbing her back to try and calm her down.

"Shh," I tell her, "Shh… its okay, Sara," I whisper, "It's okay now…"

After a few moments of consoling her I come to find she's fallen back to sleep. Well it's a good thing we don't have to go to work today. I watch her drift back off to sleep with a smile, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath until it slows down as she finally succumbs to sleep. It's then I realize that this is where I want to be- tomorrow, the next day and a year from now. And it makes me realize just how stupid I was that I wasn't lying here years before.

I look down at her as she buries her face in the crook of my neck and I lean down to grab the sheets, pulling them up and over her body to which she lets out a happy sigh in response.

Sara Sidle, I think I love you.

TBC