A/N: thanks so much to anybody that reviewed. I really appreciate it. This isn't really going in the direction I had in mind, but...hopefully it'll turn out ok anyway.

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Dec 6 2007

She reminded me of home. That, I think, was my initial impression. Not a movie-star beauty. But she was certainly beautiful nonetheless. She had dark hair and dark eyes, and there was a wisdom and a mystery in the way she stared out the window that surprised me. She reminded me of my wife, I suppose. I found out a little about her before I ended up in the same café with her, obviously. I am not a stalker, but I am observant, after all. It comes with the job. And I am also desperate. I don't deny that. So when I watched her from afar in that little restaurant, I watched closely. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to hurt either of them. Fortunately, my plan, as it turned out, ended up more perfect than I could have hoped. Sometimes, people just get lucky. The way it happened was this: her cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID for a long moment, smiling, before bringing it to her ear.

"Hey Gil."

Gilbert Grissom. I knew, of course, that they were together. I have my sources. Still, the phone call was a needed confirmation. The success of my investigation would have made me smile, but I was already feeling guilty. I was drowning more innocent people in this ocean of deceit and grief that I had brought upon myself.

A short pause as he said something. Her smile faded and was replaced by curiosity.

"How did you know?"

Pause.

"You knew what I dreamed. Again. Gil, what's going on?"

Longer pause, this time only interrupted by pensive hmms and long breaths of confusion and surprise. But I knew she'd believe it eventually.

"Time." She lowered her voice. "You're telling me you traveled…. through time. Are you okay? You haven't been drinking, have you?"

Very long pause.

"Okay."

I imagine he thought she was only humoring him.

"No, I mean it. You knew my dreams, Gil. When the evidence changes, so must the theory, right?"

Yes, this Sara Sidle was very much like my wife. Even like my daughter, maybe.

"I love you," she said. Now her voice was soft.

"No, no, I understand. Go work on your case."

After she hung up the phone, she looked at it for quite a while. A few minutes. Then she picked up her purse and headed towards the bathroom. It isn't like me, spontaneity, but I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by. I hailed the waitress, paid for her check. This was a Sunday, the after-church crowd. The café was pretty chaotic, so I felt fairly secure in slipping a drop from my vial into her drink. Even so diluted, I have learned that this substance is a potent drug. This drop, it was my last. I had been saving it.

When she came back, I waited for her to take a single sip. She closed her eyes, put one hand to her forehead. My work was half-finished. Well-dressed, I was perfectly passable as a brother, an uncle perhaps. This used to scare me, how easily a person can be snatched from the busiest of places. Now, I am too numbed to care. I have learned that there are far more frightening things. As I walked her out of the café, no one turned a head. When I hailed a cab, the driver gave me a single, ambivalent raised eyebrow. His gaze was on the woman, this Sara Sidle, vacant in my arms.

"She okay?"

I told him she had narcolepsy.

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January 2007

The layout room. He holds the UV light in one hand, cold even though the room is warm. Shines it on three pictures of dolls from the miniatures. They stare up at him with threatening, beseeching eyes. Words appear over their faces, so carefully planned and brilliantly executed it chills him to the bone. You Were Wrong, it says. Each word is a punch to the stomach. You were wrong.

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Dec 6 2007

I was out of breath by the time I let myself fall into my old easy chair. She was actually quite light, but I was old. I was nervous. Sara Sidle's cell phone, which of course I had procured, was ringing. The ID said Gil. This nickname made me feel I was delving into private lives that were not mine to see. Such a feeling was fairly accurate, I suppose. I picked it up.

"Hello?" I wondered if he was taping the phone call. It didn't particularly matter to me.

"Rush." He practically barked my name. I could tell this Grissom was a mild-mannered man, a good man. I could tell he loved Sara Sidle from the fear in his voice.

"Where is she?"

I turned my head to where Sara Sidle was lying on my couch, eyes closed. The memory she was in seemed to be a bad one, which surprised me. That had never happened to me. Every few minutes, she would let out a small whimper.

"I don't want to worry you, Dr. Grissom. I gave her a drop of the liquid and took her to my summer house. I'm not going to hurt her, and I realize it's unforgivable of me to use a human being as a bargaining tool. I did what I had to do, and I'm sorry."

"I'll give you the vial. Just tell me where you are."

"I own a house on a small island just off the coast of California. Actually, I own the island itself. Isolated, you know. Only way to get here is by boat. I've sent the map to your email account at work already."

There was a low growl on the other end.

"I'll be there with backup. And if you're sending me down the wrong trail…"

"I'm not," I said quickly. There was still a smart part of me that didn't want to be thought of as a monster.

"I can promise you I'm not."