Title: Strength of a Woman

Summary: When Nick's fiancé gets into some trouble, the true strength of a woman will be tested.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CSI characters, or any of the Las Vegas landmarks. I do, however, own Samantha Stevens.

A/N: Okay, so I have all of the chapters typed up, but the matter is trying to get them out to you all in a timely fashion. I would like to do a chapter a week, but it really does just depend on how often I have time to get on my computer.

A/N: Huge thanks to Future Miss CSI60, Soccer-Bitch, StokesSandersSpeedle, and anyone that I may have forgotten. Your reviews were great and they made me happy! FutureMissCSI60, I'm going to give you a shout out. I read your Nick/Riley stories, and I love them! Anyway, here's your chapter for the week, let's get some more reviews, okay? There's some bad language in here, but I tried to keep it to a minimum.

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tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock

Nick listens to the sounds of the clock from the same spot he has been in for the past two hours. Grissom told him that he would be one of the first ones to know if something happened, but that wasn't good enough for Nick. Nick wanted more, he wanted to know exactly where I was and how soon he could bring me home. The only sounds in the lab now are the hum of the machines, the ticking of the clock, and the occasional person walking by.

"Nick, go home. Get some sleep. You're no good to Samantha in your condition."

"I'm no good to her at home, either. I want to stay here."

A ping comes from the speakers and a screen pops up on the computer display:

Click Here to View Webcam Feed

"Do it, Griss."
Nick's eyes are filled with a clear determination, urging Grissom to click on the button. He does and a horrifying video of me pops up on the screen. I'm now blindfolded and gagged, with a large cut across my left cheek. My robe has ridden up, revealing my thigh, and my feet are tied to the rickety old wood chair.

"Oh, God, Griss."

"Calm down, Nick."

I try struggling again, but just receive a whack across my face with the butt of a .9 mm pistol, successfully shutting me up.

"CSI Stokes, say hello to your pretty little, what was the word you used? Future Stokes woman?"

It then hits Nick that this man must've bugged our house sometime when we weren't home.

"Samantha, anything you would like to say to your 'Nicky'?"

I start screaming. The only sound coming around the gag, though, is a muffled noise.

"mmph….Nick…."

"CSI Stokes, you have two hours to find your fiancé. In the meantime, Sam and I will be having some fun."

I feel his hand moving up my thigh, making my heart speed up, so I start screaming again.

"Bye."

The screen once again goes black, sending Nick into a panicked rage.

"Damn it! Damn it all to hell!"

He kicks a garbage can that had been set next to the computer table.

"Nick,"

Grissom says, trying to calm Nick down.

"No! Samantha, our Sammy, is with some random guy, very possibly being raped and beaten right now. By the time we find her, that asshole very well could kill her."

Griss, who feels bad about not being able to do anything, tries to keep a level head, and knows that's what Nick needs right now: Something stable that he can depend on.

"Did that place look familiar to you at all? Did the guy sound familiar?"

"I don't know, not really."

Greg practically comes running into the room, followed closely by Brass, who looks equally as excited as Greg.

"Grissom, Nick, I know where Sam is."