Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN: This one was a bit of a bugger to write. Sorry for the wait. But it's here. No beta. No bad language. Weirdness abounds. Forgive me. Thanks for your amazing feedback. It keeps me writing... IF YOU GET A SECOND NOTICE FOR THIS CHAPTER IGNORE IT. I MADE A FEW CORRECTIONS... typos only.

Chapter 14

Sara Sidle had fallen asleep.

Call it stress, exhaustion, trauma or the energy required to support a tiny life form, the second she'd laid her head back against Gil Grissom's car seat, her minutes were numbered. The next time she opened her eyes she was parked outside the emergency room entrance at Desert Palms, the concerned blue orbs of her former lover staring back at her as she fought off the fog that seemed to have possessed her.

During the ride there, she'd missed out on the longing glances he'd thrown her way, and had been unable to see the regret in his sapphire eyes, as he examined her present state. Had she been able to read minds she might possibly have understood the pain that was sitting just under the surface of his every day thoughts. But as it was, the only thing she did get to experience was the feel of his hand on her cheek as he caressed it tenderly.

"Sara…"

She blinked her eyes stinging.

"I'm just going to get someone with a wheelchair."

She shook her head, and tried to fight off the lethargy that had settled into her bones. Then she tried to get out of the car only to crumple into the arms of a man she had no right to even be touching. It felt good in the shelter of his solid embrace, but she couldn't allow herself the comfort.

"I'm okay…" She mumbled her voice rough and sore as she tried pull away.

"Sure you are…" He ignored her protests, helped her back into the car and winced at the strain on his knees as he did so. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

She really didn't have a choice but to listen. Her legs were being uncooperative.

A moment later he returned; his red and blue dragonfly pajama's and matching red t-shirt painting a fascinating picture against stark white brick of the hospital wall. Beside him stood a petite Asian nurse, looking both concerned and flummoxed at Sara's state.

"She was groggy in the car." Grissom was saying as the two pulled up to the vehicle. "She likely has some smoke inhalation issues, and she may need stitches."

The slim brunette wanted to protest being treated like she wasn't there at all, but her tongue was really being disobliging.

"She may have some airway trauma…" The nurse indicated and moved to one side as Grissom moved to the other. "Being exposed to burning plastic, or burning anything for that matter, can cause some swelling." Together they helped the young woman into the chair and turned towards the entrance. "How long was she in the car?"

Grissom shook his head. "I don't know."

"Five minutes." The words stung her throat and both pairs of eyes looked down at her horrified. "Maybe ten..." She added, though in her mind's eye it had felt like an eternity.

"We're going to need to give you some oxygen, and check your windpipe." The nurse leaned in and patted her shoulder as they moved through the sliding doors of the emergency room. On her way by the desk she grabbed a clip board and then casting a glance at the pajama clad Grissom, she snatched up a pen from there as well. "Sheila can put Ms….?" She dropped her eyes to her soot covered patient.

"Sidle…" Grissom offered.

"Put Ms. Sidle up on the board. I'm going to put her in room four."

The large hulk of a woman scowled in the other nurse's direction, but did as asked.

A tight smile crossed the first nurse's face as then she led them to a private examination room. "You're lucky that most of Vegas prefers to get into trouble at night. It's a pretty slow morning." Her smile turned genuine as Grissom took the board she passed to him, tucked it under his arm, and then angled the wheelchair in front of a gurney.

With a little help from the two of them Sara found herself immediately supine on the small bed and hooked up to both an O2 sat machine and nasal canula with an efficiency that was almost scary.

Raising the head of the bed, the nurse shifted her eyes to the SAT machine and watched as the glowing red numbers bobbed in front of her on the digital display. "We'll see now you respond to the canula, but if your numbers don't go up quickly then I'm going to have to put a full mask on you." She quickly checked the rest of Sara's vitals, and then did a cursory examination of her knees. "Most of these are punctures, but a couple of them may need a stitch or two."

Sara was barely listening. Grissom had moved into the corner and was busily filling out forms. The intimacy of it, the fact that he knew her well enough to be able to answer the questions on the paperwork, brought a lump to the young woman's throat. She swallowed it down and fought back tears.

She had loved him forever.

It may have been the look on the young CSI's face or simply standard procedure, but the nurse excused herself and returned almost immediately with a glass of cool water and a small medication cup in hand. With a smile she passed them to Sara, her eyebrows hitting her forehead when the slim brunette refused the medication but gulped the water. "It's just a couple of Tylenol to help with the pain and inflammation; we'll give you something stronger after."

At this Grissom looked up and moved over to Sara. He passed the forms back to the Nurse, whose name tag read "Trixie" and ran a soothing hand down Sara's arm. "You should take them."

She shook her head, and cursed herself for not already having booked an appointment with an OB. It would have been somewhat helpful to know what if any medications she could take during her pregnancy. For what it was worth she had managed to pick up the prenatal vitamins, but she really needed to see a specialist. "I'm okay." Was all she said, her fingers absently toying with the sheet the nurse had used to cover her and her mind shooing away the comfort his touch was bringing her.

"Sara…" Grissom was about to launch into the importance of doing what the nurse was suggesting when the door to the room swung open and a disheveled Nick flew in.

He'd clearly been in bed when the call had come in as Sara was pretty certain that the paint stained track pants, matching holey blue t-shirt and Italian grandpa sandals he was wearing were something the young man would never normally be caught dead in, at least not in public. Add to that the fact that his hair was standing completely on end and one would have a pretty good idea of what a sleepy Nick Stokes looked like.

"What happened…?" The Texan's dark eyes moved from the nurse to Grissom and final settled on a soot smeared Sara.

"Her car caught fire." Grissom's hand inadvertently moved to caress an errant strand of hair from the pretty brunette's face, causing a mix of emotions to scatter across the younger man's features.

"It was new." A dark look passed through younger man's eyes.

Grissom nodded grimly. There was no need for words since they both knew that a manufacturer's fault was unlikely.

"The doctor should be in, in a minute." the nurse still carrying the medication and clipboard turned to leave. She'd just reached for the door, when it swung open, and a tall dark haired Latino man entered. The tag on his chest claimed he was Dr. Eduardo Heffe.

"Ms. Sidle?" He accepted the file the nurse was holding out to him and moved past Nick as the other woman left the room. Casting a quick glance at the SAT monitor he frowned, and tugged the small clip off of Sara's finger and placed it on another. "Your SAT level is a little low… I'm going to lay you down completely and put a mask on you. Better for lung perfusion." He read the vitals off her file. "Can I ask you to lean forward a little?"

Sara complied, doing her best to ignore the other two men in the room, who at this point had resorted to a staring contest of sorts.

"Your lungs are a little congested. Open up." He pulled a tongue depressor from its wrapper and slipped it into her mouth. Dr. Heffe clucked his own tongue. "You're throat is very red." He pulled back and tossed the small piece of wood into a nearby waste basket. "I'm going to order a puffer for you. It's a steroid. Not too strong but it will help with the inflammation and congestion for a few days until you have had a chance to heal."

Sara shook her head. "Can't I do something else?" Her throat ached and her voice belied this.

"I don't understand?" The doctor looked confused.

"I'd rather not have the medication if I can avoid it." A worried look was painted on her black streaked face. She already knew the doctor's next question, and turned to Nick with fear in her eyes.

"Hey Boss, can I talk to you outside?" Grissom's eyes fell on Sara, but Nick was insistent. "Cath said you wanted me to come in tonight, to go over the car. It's about that."

"I'm a bit of a naturalist when it comes to healing." Sara plowed on before the physician could ask why. She wasn't lying, either. She generally hated hospitals with a passion. To her they were a place of pain and bad memories. The smell alone was often enough to initiate the fight or flight response in her. As such, there had to be a limb hanging off or pain beyond that which was tolerable to get her even to go to the doctor's. The only thing that had forced her to allow herself to be taken to the hospital was the small secret she was carrying in the safety of her womb; her main concern being the effect of the long term exposure to the possibly toxic smoke on him or her. "I prefer holistic methods." That wasn't really a lie, though it sounded pretty flimsy even to her own ears. The slim brunette looked up at Grissom who appeared determined to put the conversation with Nick off until after she'd been fully taken care of. "It's okay. I'll be fine." She went so far as to squeeze his hand and offer him a small smile. "It's not like I'm going anywhere." She intoned with a shuddering sigh. "And I really would like to find out who turned my new car into a barbeque pit."

"Me too." Nick glowered and headed towards the hallway, hoping to hell that the nightshift supervisor would get he hint and follow him. He didn't want to resort to carrying the man, and he knew Sara needed a few moments of privacy to talk to the doctor.

It was a reluctant Grissom who made his way out after the younger man. "Let the doctor do what he has to, Sara." He turned back a worry mixed with regret and fear shining in his blue eyes. "I'll be back in a minute."

Sara nodded and waited until the door had closed fully behind her former lover before turning to the doctor.

A small smile played on the man's face. "How far along are you?"

There was an obvious question in her eyes. "How did you…?"

The doctor smirked and lowered the bed she was on until she was completely flat. "The only women I have ever seen refuse any kind of medication when they're in pain, are pregnant women and recovering addicts…" He pulled the nasal canula off of her and placed a full mask over her nose and mouth then added. "You don't look like an addict to me."

She wanted to protest that she was. She was addicted to self torture. Instead, she forced herself to relax, as he pulled the sheet up and took a look at her knees. "About a month and a bit..." She responded to his question, though the words sounded small and distant through the O2 mask.

"Well the ventolin I am going to prescribe for you will be safe to use, because it's only for a few days. I understand your concern, but I wouldn't offer it to you if it were unsafe." He poked and prodded at one particular gash on her knee drawing a quick pain filled "Ouch!" out of her.

"There are two cuts here that will need a little stitching. The anesthetic will be local only." The doctor patted her hand, and stared at her with soulful dark eyes.

Sara nodded, her own dark orbs fluttering closed. She was exhausted to the core and still somewhat nauseated thought it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been for the previous two days. Her hand moved to her stomach protectively. "Will my baby be okay? I mean all the smoke…"

"It's far too early to detect a heart beat, so I can't tell you for certain. But I would say that while you're likely to have a sore throat for a few days, and some pretty haunting memories, I imagine, for the most part your baby was well protected, and you're injuries are minor." He looked up as the nurse returned to the room with a small suture kit in hand.

Trixie smiled at young CSI on the gurney and then flicked her eyes towards the monitor she was hooked up to. "I'd say you have a couple of pretty big admirers out there."

Sara rolled her eyes and breathed deeply allowing the oxygen to perfuse her lungs. She didn't want to know anything about what was going on outside the door. Ignorance was bliss.

"I brought some Ativan if you want." The nurse placed the cup at the bedside table. "It will calm you down…"

"No." The doctor shook his head, and grabbed the suture kit Trixie was preparing. "Sara here is going to be a mom; she's worried about her little one, so we can give her some Tylenol, instead."

At the use of the term, her eyes flickered open and she did her best to ignore the rawness of her throat. "Can we keep the mom part on the down low doc?"

Trixie and the doctor exchanged glances, and then both nodded.

"Thanks." She closed her eyes again and contemplated the word mom. It brought both a jolt of terror and a feeling of comfort to her. At some time both of those feelings would need to be melded into some kind of compromise.

"I'm going to roll your pant legs up." The nurse informed her.

Sara nodded and grimaced as a moment later there was a spark of pain as the jeans were peeled back off of the dried blood, tugging at the jagged cuts.

"A small prick now Sara." It was Dr. Heffe and he'd only given her a mere second of warning before plunging the needle into her tender knee.

She gritted her teeth against the sting; despite this she couldn't stop a short gasp of pain from escaping.

"Hey that's nothing compared to the pain of childbirth, right Trix." The doctor grinned and felt around the wound, making sure the area was numb.

"Oh yeah…" The petite Asian woman agreed. "I thought for sure I was going to be split in half." She looked at the young woman on the gurney. She was tall and gangly but very slim. "You're OB may recommend a section for you, Love."

Another moan escaped Sara. That was yet something else she didn't want to think about. Denial was a good thing sometimes.

"It can't have been an accident." Nick stared at his boss trying to keep a straight face despite the dragonfly pajama bottoms. Not that he, himself, looked any better, but somehow he couldn't help but wonder if they were Grissom's idea of seductive lounge wear? Hardly hot, even by male standards, but he supposed that where the tall brunette was concerned, it might just do the trick.

"That's why I had it towed to the CSI garage." Gil Grissom was impatient; he wanted to be back in the room with Sara. He was well aware of her hatred for hospitals and the medical establishment in general, it was a conversation they'd had while they were dating. He'd kissed away her reservations at the time; he wished he could do the same now.

"But this goes beyond…" He chased away the thought. He wanted to tell him about the missing evidence, and everything that Catherine had shared with him, but he'd promised to keep it between them until they figured out who was behind it. He had a good idea why the secrecy was necessary, but he didn't like it for numerous reasons. Instead, Nick settled on something that the man in front of him was aware of. "Remember the blood sample? It didn't make any sense the other day. Maybe these two things are related?"

Grissom nodded. "Maybe, but it's a big leap from a misplaced sample to setting someone's car on fire while they're in it." The things missing in the lab had started with Catherine a few months previously. It had driven her crazy at the time, but everything seemed to have quieted down. And she hadn't said anything about personal attacks. He wasn't sure the two incidents were connected especially to Sara. "Aside from which, the missing sample could be just that, a missing sample, not something diabolical. It could have just been an isolated incident. People do occasionally misplace items, even at the lab."

"Sara? Come on…" The younger man shook his head. "She's as meticulous as they come. There are days she could put an OCD person to shame."

Grissom knew he was right, but the thought that someone might be out to get her was almost paralyzing. Doing his job for as many years as he had he knew that nine times out of ten a situation like that was next to impossible to protect against. "Even if someone took the sample, or moved it, it doesn't mean they two situations are linked."

"Do you really think that?"

"I honestly don't know what to think, Nick. Not yet. You're getting ahead of the evidence. And I'm not sure what you are basing your assumptions on."

"How about the fact that her car looks like the like the ground floor of hell?" The Texan placed his hands on his hips, wishing he could connect all the dots for the man in front of him, but that would mean betraying a Catherine's confidence. Nick reigned in his anger; he really couldn't blame his boss for not seeing what was obvious to him. It was hard to solve a case especially when you only had access to half the evidence. "You don't think it's possible that someone is out to get Sara?"

"I think it's very possible. I wouldn't rule anything out. We've all put our share of crazies away. I'm just not sure the sample is related." Grissom's thick fingers worked his temples in an attempt to massage away burgeoning headache. "What we need to do is try and find out who and why." Grissom took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

"You know what I think? I think it's someone at the lab." He couldn't help it he had to throw it out there.

The nightshift supervisor looked at him like he'd sprouted horns. "That's a pretty big leap."

"Yeah, okay…so call it a hunch, but I believe someone working at the lab is behind the sample and the fire." Nick knew it sounded crazy. "And that means that while the car is in the garage any evidence in it could disappear."

Grissom watched as Trixie made her way back into the room, suture kit in hand. "Fine. Then I'll take Sara home. You go to the lab and start collecting."

Nick was about to protest, but his boss cut him off.

"It's your theory. Run with it. I'll join you once I get Sara settled in her apartment." The graveyard supervisor turned to follow the path the nurse had taken.

"If someone's out to get her she can't be left alone." Nick trailed close behind. He didn't want Grissom taking her home and he didn't want to think about why.

"She won't be." The older man assured the other CSI and then stepped back into the examination room as the doctor was putting the first stitch in place.

The Texan wasn't sure what it was that came over him at that moment but he couldn't help himself. He moved ahead and walked a round the nurse who was busily handing things to the doctor. Placing his hand on Sara's forehead, he allowed his fingers to run through her silky hair and waited as her eyes opened lazily. "I'm going back to the lab. I'm going to check out your car." He cast a glance at the older man who was staring at their perceived intimacy with an aggrieved expression. "Gris is going to take you home." Then in a moment of utter possessiveness, he drew back the mask covering her mouth and placed a careful and demanding kiss on her lips.

A second later he was gone.

TBC