A/N: Thanks again everyone for the great reviews, they make my day :D I apologize if the Latin translation in this chapter is incorrect. I'm not fluent in any other language other than English so I had to look the translation up on the internet.

Oh my god her skin is so smooth. I don't even think she puts on lotion regularly, this is natural. Those years of working in San Francisco really did her body well- she has a nice even healthy tan along her arms and legs. And for goodness sake she smells like vanilla, why can't I be this lucky? She's such a natural beauty. I've always noticed she doesn't wear a lot of make-up. She doesn't need it.

So I've been laying here next to her in her bed for about an hour now just to watch her sleep. I can't help it, she's just so… captivating. She hasn't moved a muscle but I don't blame her; I can't believe we managed to actually make it to the bedroom last night before one of us starting shouting out strings of curse words. She's absolutely amazing.

She never ceases to surprise me, and even now, just watching her sleep, I'm fascinated. She sleeps almost like an infant, curled up in a tight little ball, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms folded over one another resting under her head. Her chest rises and falls with each steady breath she takes and I can't help but notice the torn button on her blouse that's just barely hanging on by a string. I guess I got a little rough last night.

But Sara… Sara's touch is so gentle, so loving. She makes me feel like the sexiest woman on the face of the earth. She's always telling me how beautiful I am, or how good my hair smells, how smooth my skin feels. I never got little comments like that from Eddie. He had such a small range of phrases and vocabulary, the norms being "Come on, just one more", "At least act like you're enjoying it", and my personal favorite, "What the hell are you doing reading a book?"

I did have work the next day. I usually just chose to let him have his fun.

I swear to God, Eddie gave a new meaning to the phrase "Wham, bam, thank you, Ma'am." Although I don't ever recall there being a thank you with Eddie. He always ripped my bras clean off and never gave me any money to buy more. Those were my dancing clothes.

But Sara's such a gentle, loving person- and polite at that. She's the sort of person who tries their hardest not to stare at your chest and look at your face even when you're giving her a strip tease and she can't move a muscle. Eddie was the complete opposite. And even though Sara may be gentle, she's demanding and powerful at the same time. I like that.

My index finger is currently tracing along the small of her back as I rest my head on her shoulder. She's still out like a light. I never thought I would be grateful that she was suspended, but now I am. She desperately needs the rest. I wouldn't mind taking off today, either. I just want to be with her, and as much as I hate to admit it, I am tired.

Just as I'm about to get up and look for my cell phone to call into the lab, something catches my eye. A mysterious little something on Sara's lower back. But it's sexy as hell, whatever it is. It definitely got my attention.

Lifting up the sheets with Sara groans in protest to, I raise an eyebrow as she rolls over onto her back allowing me to see what I was looking for. It's a tattoo, and now I wonder why I've never seen it before. It's a pretty good-sized crucifix and underneath it is something written… but I can't read it. It looks like Latin.

"Redemptio pro insons insontis."

I never knew Sara was a real religious person. The first word looks like 'redemption' but I'm not sure what the rest is. Just as I'm about to go find my pocket dictionary from the drawer Sara starts to stir and before I know it she's looking me right in the eye.

"God you have got to stop doing that!" I tell her, half jokingly, half not.

She giggles in response and I can't help the smile from crossing my face, her laugh is infectious.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she says, a wry smile playing on her lips.

"I don't get scared," I reply, raising an eyebrow, "But anyway, how did you sleep?"

"Really good, actually," she smiles, "Probably the best sleep I've gotten in a long time." I don't want to guess how long she's talking about. "How about you?"

"Best sleep of my life," I admit and she smiles in response to that, opening her mouth wide with another yawn.

"So what were you looking at?" she asks me. That's really creepy, how does she always know?

"Are you psychic or something?" I can't help but ask.

"No, but I could feel your eyes burning into the back of my head," she grins. "So did you see something you liked, Miss Willows?"

"Yes, I did," I reply, pursing my lips. "And quite frankly, I'm offended. Why didn't you tell me you had tattoos?"

"You didn't ask," she coolly replies. "Besides, I figured you'd find them eventually."

I nod slowly, sneaking another glance at her back. "I saw the one on your back," I tell her. "It's nice. What's the writing say?"

For a moment the room is deathly quiet, but solemnly, almost like someone had died and this was their moment of silence. She straightens up and turns around so I can get a better look at her back. "It says 'Redemption for innocence'," she informs me.

I nod, cupping the skin on her back with my palm and gently caressing it. "Why did you get it?" I ask her. I'm tempted to ask if it's in reference to her parents, but I refrain from doing so.

"It's for everyone," she softly says, "Everyone who's ever died at the hands of another person in cold blood. It's for all the victims we've found at crime scenes, all the people who weren't found in time. All the people who ended up on Doc Robbin's slab…" she whispers. "They may be gone now, but I'll always remember them. They don't deserve to be forgotten. Just because some of them may not have had family doesn't mean they were never cared about, you know?"

That's quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard in my entire life.

Sitting up, I move my body so that I'm sitting next to her and I wrap my left arm around her shoulders, pulling her body against my own. "That's beautiful, Sara," I whisper in her ear, "And it just shows how beautiful a person you yourself are… inside and out."

She slowly turns her head and shoots me one of her Sara smiles, the warm glow returning to her face. "Aw shucks, Cath. You're making me blush," she teases.

"Hey!" I laugh and playfully swat at her with my hand. "I was trying to be nice, Sara. Maybe I just won't compliment you anymore."

"You can't do that," she shakes her head in protest, "I know you can't."

"Oh?" I ask.

"Yeah," she nods, "You can't stop staring at my ass when I walk past you, I have at least six hickeys on my neck—thanks, by the way—and you think my breasts belong to you."

For a second I think about this and then I shoot her a grin. "They are mine, Sara."

She laughs and shakes her head, resting it against my own, "Whatever you say, Cath," she whispers.

I smile as my hand begins to rub her back as we sit together on the edge of the bed. "So when did you get this tattoo?" I ask her.

"After I started working in 'Frisco," she says, "It didn't take long for the cases to get to me. It's… hard to detach yourself from everything."

I nod my head in understanding. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for Sara.

"After my first rape case, that was it," she shakes her head. "I couldn't stand it anymore."

"How long had you been working there?" I ask her.

She bites the inside of her bottom lip as she looks down at the floor. "Two weeks," she says. "That was it. Two weeks, Cath. And you know what the worst part was?" I shake my head. "She didn't have any family. The dad drank himself to death and the mom landed herself in the loony bin. She was an only child. No one came to her funeral. They cremated her. She was just dust in the wind." I start to rub her back a little harder now to provide some sort of comfort. This story sounds similar to Sara's. "She was innocent- never smoked a day in her life, she never drank. She didn't even have any parking tickets."

"I don't understand why people do the things they do anymore," I whisper to her.

"It took me a long time to accept that," she whispers back, shooting me a sad smile. "I just… I wanted to do something for them. I see a part of myself in every victim, male or female. They didn't deserve to die."

She really is amazing.

Leaning over, I turn her head so that she's facing me and I give her a tender kiss on the lips. "Like I said, you're beautiful."

She shoots me a shy smile and I watch as her cheeks slowly turn a rosy shade of red. "I'm going to get another tattoo, you know."

I blink, now quite intrigued, "Where?" I inquire.

"I haven't decided yet," she tells me. "But I'll let you know when I do," she winks.

"Well good, because I like this one a lot," I tell her, sneaking another peek at not only the tattoo but the firm muscles in her back.

"Catherine Willows, quit checking me out," Sara orders.

I shoot her an innocent look but she sees right through that. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask her.

"You're not a very good liar," she smirks, getting to her knees to crawl toward me. And as she does I see yet another thing she has yet to show me!

I let out a gasp that probably scared the crap out of her but I ignore it as I reach down and gently but forcefully pull her ankle into my lap. "You didn't tell me you had another one!"

"You didn't ask," she giggles again.

I shoot her a look before looking down at the design on her skin. "A blue sun," I state.

"Yes," she replies, "It's the first one I ever got."

"When did you get this one?" I ask her, once again running my fingers over it.

"I got it when I was 16, actually," she muses, staring up at the ceiling, "Cheap job, but I liked it. I had to get it on my ankle because it was one of the only places I could get it without it showing when I went to work in those stupid uniforms."

"I've been there," I nod, putting her leg back down on the bed. "So are there any other tattoos you're withholding at this time, Miss Sidle?"

"I don't believe there is," she tells me, shooting me a smile. God I could just jump her right now.

I think I will.

I lunge forward and her eyes widen in surprise as I land directly on top of her, holding her in place with my hips. She giggles as she playfully struggles against my grip. "Don't even think about moving, Sara," I tell her, shooting her a smirk of my own, "I'm not letting you go."

"But what if I want to touch you, too?" she teases.

"You can do that later," I whisper into her ear, before silencing her by pressing my lips to hers.

And just as I'm about to get rid of that pesky bra, my damned cell phone rings. Of all the times!

"Damn it," I grunt against her neck as I work to form a new hickey against her skin and remove the remainder of her clothes at the same time, "I can't believe this…"

"You can always mark me later, Cat," Sara tells me, but I can tell she's just as annoyed as I am. She's panting and sweating trying to catch her breath.

"But I'm busy," I grumble and finally grab my phone when my fuse is dangerously short. "Hello?" I irritably ask.

"Catherine, I need you and your team to come in early today."

Oh God. It's Conrad. I immediately put my hand over Sara's mouth so he doesn't hear her erratic breathing in the background. "What are you talking about?" I ask him. I'm thrown off-guard and try to act professional but I'm still frustrated that he would call right now. Besides, I was going to take a day off!

"Days is swamped," he says. I can hear the urgency in his voice. "Drive-bys, B&Es, robberies, you name it, it happened last night. It's like the town had an overnight crime spree."

I let out a long, exasperated sigh. I do not want to deal with this today. "Conrad, incase you don't remember my team just finished up a big case," I explain, watching Sara as her facial expression turns from confusion to understanding once she knows who I'm talking to, "A high-profile case as a matter of fact. We worked doubles and we need to rest."

"I'm sorry Cath, but you know I wouldn't ask you to come in if it wasn't urgent," he explains.

Yes you would, you big ass.

"Fine," I sigh, finally giving up. He's just as stubborn as I am. "But you owe us." Clicking off my phone, I toss it on the nightstand and look down at Sara whose face is still flushed and chest is still heaving. I'm not leaving her hanging like this.

"What did Ecklie say?" she asks me, letting out a happy moan once my mouth is reconnected to the skin on her neck.

"I have to go in early to work," I mumble, using my teeth and my tongue as I continue my handiwork from earlier. No, it's fine craftsmanship.

"No," she moans. She means to groan but she can't right now. "No, you're not going anywhere…"

"I have to," I mumble, "They're swamped and they need the help. But I'll be back as soon as I can. Just hang tight until then, okay?" I ask her, biting down on the skin on her neck as I finish marking my territory.

"Shit, Cath!" This is a phrase she's come to say quite frequently now. She looks up at me with wide, glazed-over eyes, "Tell him you're sick," she pants, "I'm… sure he'll—"

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring…

That's not my phone.

"Damn it!" she screams out. Well, there's the answer as to whose phone it was. Getting to a sitting position, she leans over and grabs the jeans she was wearing last night, pulling her phone out of the back pocket. I give her side a little pinch just to tease her.

"Cut it out," she hisses at me and I can't help but start laughing. "Quiet!" she orders as she answers the phone. "What?"

I'm wondering who it is now. I don't think Conrad would call Sara in since her suspension.

She lets out a sigh just as I did and I can tell she's just received the same wonderful news as me. "Fine, I'll be there," she says and immediately hangs up.

"He got you too, huh?" I ask her, gently kneading the muscles in her neck which are now tense.

"That was Grissom," she informs me, closing her eyes with a sigh. "My suspension has been lifted because Ecklie's team won't get off their asses and do their jobs right. Oh, and I have to apologize to you."

I chuckle as she turns and looks at me with a grin. "Apologize? I think you've done a lot more than that," I tell her. But the fun can't last long and I get to my feet with a sigh, looking around for clothes. "I would love to stay here and tease you longer but we have to go in or Ecklie will send the wolves after us."

"Don't remind me," Sara groans, getting to her feet stiffly and stretching. "Everyone always tells me that I need to sleep, and then I do and I have to go into work early."

I chuckle again as I look over at her. She's shooting me that look of hers. "That's true," I tell her, opening up her closet. "And I'm going to borrow some of your clothes, if you don't mind…"

"Not at all," she tells me, walking up behind me. "I'd recommend wearing something I don't wear often or else the boys might get suspicious…"

"Well obviously," I smile, reaching in and grabbing a pair of jeans and a low-cut t-shirt. We may be going to work but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun at Sara's expense.

"Hey, that's not fair," she tells me with a pout.

"Hey, you could've teased me with it for years but you chose to wear a tank top underneath it," I tell her, holding my hands up in defense.

"True," Sara concedes, grabbing a pair of khaki-colored slacks and a brown long-sleeved top. "But that was because Greg wouldn't stop looking down my shirt."

"Can you blame him?" I ask her. She raises an eyebrow and I just laugh as I put on my shoes I thankfully remembered.

After spending five minutes- not quite long enough- to get ready we're out the door, deciding to take separate cars. I brought mine to her place last night anyways and it would raise questions if we arrived in the same car. I already coached her on how to act- we're supposed to hate each other right now, I reminded her.

We still arrive at the lab at approximately the same time and she meets me at the front doors of the lab. "Remember, we're mad at each other," I tell her and she nods, putting on her best—and very convincing, I might add—poker face.

We're barely through the doors before Conrad's racing down the halls to meet us. He's like a fly, why won't he go buzz somewhere else? Was he waiting for us the entire time?

"Thanks for coming, Catherine," Conrad greets… me. Not Sara. "It's chaos," he explains. Then he turns to Sara. I certainly don't like the way he looks at her. I've never noticed it before but there's always been a hostility between them and even as just an onlooker it's disarming. "Miss Sidle, your suspension has been lifted."

Thanks for stating the obvious, I want to tell him. And what's with this 'Miss Sidle' business?

"Grissom informed me," Sara nods, trying her best not to snap at him.

"As long as you apologize to Catherine, everything—" I interrupt him.

"She has already formally apologized," Among other things, "And I have accepted her apology," I tell him. He looks baffled and I can see a smile tugging at the corners of Sara's lips out of the corner of my eye.

"Alright then," he practically grumbles like a little kid as he reaches down and grabs a file, holding it out to me, even when Sara reaches for it. A-S-S. I hand it to her anyway. "Double-homicide, downtown area," he says. "A husband and his wife were found shot to death in front of their home in their driveway," he continues, "Execution-style killing. We suspect there may be some gang involvement, there was a tag spray-painted on the garage door. Looks like the Snake Backs."

I look over at Sara who's already back in CSI-mode, looking the file and crime-scene photos over with her eyes. "Any sign of them since?" she asks.

"None," Ecklie says. "Catherine, you're free to take Sara along if you feel you may need the help."

"I appreciate that," I reply. Oh do I. "We'll head over the scene now. I'm assuming an officer is there?"

"Already cleared the scene, he's just waiting for you guys," Ecklie says. Throwing one more glance over at Sara, he turns and leaves.

"The way he looks at you you'd almost think he has a thing for you," I mumble, looking over at Sara. I'm not even sure she's heard me. She's still staring at the file, watching it like a hawk. She's definitely back on the job.

"I've worked quite a few cases with the Snake Backs," she informs me, staring at the tag on the garage door. "This is definitely their signature. Every case I work with them, they seem to get out one way or the other. You know this kid shot and raped this woman and only got forty-eight months in juvie for it? She's brain-dead and he's already back on the streets."

For a moment I'm beginning to think maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have Sara work with me. I don't want this case to bother her, not after the last one. It brought up too many painful memories and just thinking about what she revealed to me when she was that vulnerable all those nights ago makes me want to hold her and never let go. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I gently ask her.

She blinks, and shoots me her 'I'm okay but I'm not' fake smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll feel a lot better when we get the people who did this."

For now, I'm satisfied. As Warrick and Nick appear down the hallway coming from the break room, I put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "Can you explain everything to them? I'm going to go get my kit," I tell her. When she nods I turn and head toward my office- which is really more of an 'office space' than an actual office- to retrieve my kit.

I'm gone for about five minutes only to come back and discover that Nick and Warrick are now gone. "Where did they go?" I ask her.

"I told them to try and look for some sort of connection between the victims and the Snake Backs since we were heading off to the scene," she tells me. That sounds kind of nice, actually. The scene to ourselves, just the two of us.

"Okay," I simply reply, shooting her a small smile. She didn't have the authority to do so, but this is fine too.

"Should we go?" she asks me.

"Yeah, let's get over there."

The ride over to the scene was very silent and not enjoyable. I'm wondering why Sara isn't saying anything but I'm not either. Why am I suddenly so quiet?

Just as I'm about to turn on the radio to try and break the silence she starts to speak. "Cath… I…"

"What is it, Sara?" I ask, grateful that she's finally opened her mouth.

"Nick and Warrick… they're my friends," she starts, "but… today, they were… looking at me differently; like I was the kid at school who was sent to the principal's office and suspended."

"Well, that's sort of what happened," I tell her. Oh my god, did I just say that?

She turns around and immediately shoots me this look, her eyes wide in disbelief. I'm just as shocked as she is and I try to look at her but I have to keep my eye on the road at the same time.

"What did you say?" she whispers. Oh no… talk about putting your foot in your mouth.

"Sara, I didn't mean it like that…" I try to explain. Then what did I mean?

"Then what did you mean, Cath?" she asks me, never tearing her eyes from me. I can feel her gaze. "Am I just the problematic rebellious teenager who keeps getting in detention because I feel the victim's pain and I'm holding onto myself by a string? Or just a bad dog who needs to be kept on a leash?"

"No Sara, of course not, don't be ridiculous," I suddenly snap. She sounds ridiculous. I can't help it, but she's smarter than that and these are some of the dumbest things I've ever heard come out of her mouth. "That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say." I don't seem to hear it, or don't want to hear it, but there's this little voice in the back of my head that's telling me I'm only making the situation worse.

"Story of my life, Cath," Sara says, finally tearing her gaze away from me to stare straight out the windshield. "Story of my life." She opens the passenger-side door and gets out, slamming the door behind her.

"Sara, don't do this!" I try to tell her, but she's already closed the door and grabbed her kit, walking over to the waiting officer.

Sara's an angel, so why does it feel like we've just been visited by the angel of death?

TBC