A.N.: I am really sorry that this took so long. As I said in profile the world in general seems to be against this story. But it is finally here and I am almost done with the rest of the story, so I will probably be posting more regularly now.

Disclaimer: And it is still not mine. And I am still not making any money off of it. Sigh.

9.

Catherine Willows was numb. She knew that she should be feeling something. Anger. Happiness. Terror. Guilt. But instead she felt nothing.

That wasn't completely true. she did feel a tiny bit of relief. Thirty six hours ago, when she had been processing the Jane Doe at Mercy Memorial, she hadn't know that the woman had been Sara. That should have caused her to feel guilty or upset, but instead it felt like she had narrowly avoided getting into a terrible car crash.

Processing living victims was always hard, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like processing Sara. Processing Sara's still body.

At least she had had the comfort of ignorance.

After Grissom broke the news that the woman from her case was actually her coworker, Brass had driven Catharine to the hospital to see Sara. Brass, and Gil, and everyone else had had over a day to get used to the thought that Sara was still alive. But Catharine had only found out after she came back form chaperoning her daughter's field trip. She still hadn't gotten used to the thought. It felt unreal, like a dream where lots of things happened but you weren't able to feel any strong emotions because in the back of you head you knew it wasn't real.

When Brass had escorted her into the hospital room, past a bunch of uniformed security guards, her first thought had been that Sara had gotten even worse in the day and a half since Catherine had processed her. But once the unexpected rush of emotion settled and the numbness returned she realized that the truth of the matter was simply that now she knew what the battered woman on the bed looked like two months ago.

Jim had left her alone with Sara for a few minutes, and Catherine sat down in the chair near the bed, took one of Sara's hands into hers, and then tried to talk to her. The doctor had sat that sometimes people in Sara's condition responded well to familiar voices. But Catherine hadn't been able to think of anything to say. She and Sara had rarely talked about anything but work. They were not friends. They didn't even like each other.

And yet that was what made Sara's disappearance so hard. Friends would come and go. Catherine had learned that a long time ago. But Sara had been a fixture. They had worked together for years. They had never exactly bonded but being the only two female CSI on the nightshift had created certain closeness. There was an understanding between them. Catherine knew that Sara kept a bottle of lemon juice and a special ordered body wash, both of which were good for getting the smell of a decomp out of you skin. The older woman also knew that she was welcome to use both of these without having to ask Sara about it. Sara on the other hand had 

always known that she was welcome to the special stain remover that Catherine kept in her own locker. Both also knew that if the need arose they could always look through the other's locker for an extra Advil, or tampon. When Sara had gotten food poisoning, but hadn't wanted to alert the whole lab, the younger woman had asked Catharine to cover for her. And Catherine had.

The guys assumed that because they had their lockers open to each other, and because they always seemed to be there for each other, that Sara and Catherine had been friends. But relying on each other and trusting each other was not enough to make two coworkers friends. Friends were required to hang out, to talk about things, to like each other. Sara and Catharine had only been coworkers who had found it mutually beneficial to rely on each other. Sometimes in her most pessimistic moments Catherine thought that she and Sara had a symbiotic relationship. They leeched off each other to insure their own survival.

And for that reason she had never imagined that Sara would ever not be there. The law of 'here today, gone tomorrow' applied to lovers, friends, good things, and people you liked. A cold, biological, mutually beneficial relationship with someone Catharine had not even liked all that much was not supposed to end. She had kind of expected it to last forever.

So when Sara had gone missing, Catherine had been completely thrown off balance. She hadn't realized how much she had relied on Sara for the little things until the younger woman had disappeared.

Sara's disappearance had also forced Catherine to deal with her own mortality. If something that could seem so permanent could disappear without any warning, what else could evaporate in the blink of an eye?

In the last two months, Catherine had become a much darker person then she had been before. Both physically and metaphorically. Her wardrobe had undergone a drastic change. Gone where the bright clothes designed to hide any imperfections, and highlight all strengths. They had been replaced by a dark and much more professional clothes. They had made her look older and more severe, and Catherine liked them because they reflected how she felt on the inside. Instead of coloring her hair with the dark blonde or honey brown color that she usually used to cover the grey roots, Catherine had opted for a much darker shade of brown. It made her look, in Lindsey's words, like 'death warmed over', but Catherine preferred it that way. The blonde seemed a bit too silly, and a bit too light, for the older, wiser, and more death aware Catherine Willows.

She ended up telling Sara about her own case. She retold everything that Gil and Jim had told her before she had come to the hospital. She told the younger woman, everything she could remember about Todd Woland and his victims. She told her who was analyzing what evidence. She even mentioned that they got the new DNA machine that the techs, and Greg, had been drooling over for months. She kept up her monologue for over half an hour.

Catherine had been fairly certain this wasn't the type of talk the doctor had meant when he said "talk to her." But it had felt natural to talk to Sara about work. And as Catherine talked, she realized that numbness had faded. It was now replaced by the much more pleasant feeling of 

calmness. Sara was alive. Friends, Family, good things, and lovers, may come and go. But at least what they shared, remained.

When she ran out of things to talk about Catherine had simply said goodbye, and promised to come by later. She nodded to the police officers who were standing outside of Sara's door, and went to find Brass. It only took a few seconds to locate the detective since he was sitting patiently in the hallway. Together they got in Brass's car and headed towards the Lab.

The night had been very productive if not exactly useful. There had been a ton of evidence to process. And everything they found would solidify the case against Todd Woland. They were however no closer to finding the bastard himself. And everyone knew how important it was to find Dr. Woland quickly. Since the man had been kidnapping women from across the U.S. the case technically was supposed to be handled by the feds. But fortunately Ecklie had some clout with the Sheriff, who had some clout with the mayor, who had some clout with the governor, who was currently giving the feds a very long roundabout.

At noon the next day Gil had finally ordered Catherine to go home and get some rest. Catherine had of course offered a token protest, but Grissom had won that argument pretty quickly.

Catherine walked to her car as quickly as she could. It was unnaturally hot day for this time of the year and with the sun directly overhead, nobody wanted to be out in the sun any longer than absolutely necessary. The parking lot felt the way Catherine always imagined the Sahara would feel. Vast, empty and hot. Every second spend in the scorching sun made it a little harder to breathe. Last night, before she had found out about Sara, she had left the car on the far side of the parking lot. In the early morning when she usually got off work, a long walk too the car was pleasant and refreshing. During the day, especially this day, the walk was pure torture.

She had almost made it to the car when she heard a car pull up behind her. She turned around and saw the driver roll down the window.

"Excuse me, Ma'am." The man in the vehicle said with a thick southern accent "Would you happen to know how I can get to the Desert Casino from here?"

Catherine looked him over as she gave him directions as clearly as she could. The middle aged man was obviously a tourist, even though his button down shirt and aviator glasses were much nicer than the wardrobe of the average Vegas visitor. In fact apart from his accent, and obvious unfamiliarity with the city, the only thing that really gave him away as a tourist was the brand new 'VEGA' baseball cap.

"…so, left on Toulane, and right on Major, and then head straight until the third…" he tried to repeat back to her the directions she had just given him.

"No." Catharine interrupted him. "It's right on Tulane and left on Major"

The man gently hit his head on the edge of the steering wheel. "I'm sorry. I'm terrible at following directions." He gave her a rather rueful grin. "My Ma used to say that if someone gave me directions on how to get out of a wet paper bag, I'd get mange to get it wrong." He shook his head, and Catherine found herself smiling at how much he resembled a lost little boy.

"I can draw you a map, if you want?" She offered.

"That would be wonderful. Picture directions are easier to understand." He nodded at her with a mock seriousness. Then he looked thoughtful for a second, reached over to the glove compartment he pulled out a small map of Vegas, and a pen, and opened the door to get out of the car. "Maybe you could mark the way on this?" He asked offering her the map and marker.

Catherine agreed and spread the map on the roof of his car. The air conditioned air from inside the car was flowing through the open door and felt wonderful on her skin.

"Okay this is where we are right now" She marked a spot on the map. "And this is Desert Casino. You would need to go up this street until…" She didn't get farther than that because the tourist suddenly spun her around and she felt something being sprayed in her face. It occurred to her that she should hold her breath, but apparently she was too late because the world started spinning alarmingly and she felt her body go limp. The man caught her and pushed her into the car. The last cohesive thought that Catherine had as the world started blacking out, was that even though the Aviator glasses and baseball Cap hid most of the man's face, his chin and mouth were very similar to the chin and mouth that Catherine had seen on the photos that Nick had found of Dr. Todd Woland.

A.N.: Da-da-dun. I seem to have it in for the women of CSI.

Seriously though, please don't kill me. I really couldn't write any more from Catharine's point of view. Review and I will post the next chapter sooner.