A/N: This contains Dialogue from Burn Out.

Still not mine. But it's fun to take them out and play once in a while.

Smut alert.

Grissom walked into the lab to hand out assignments. He was not feeling much better. His head was still killing him. He gave Nick and Sara an arson case. He took the missing kids. Brass noticed how bad he looked.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Gil? You look like shit."

Grissom grunted, "Migraine."

"Go lie down in my office. I'll come find you when we're ready to start."

He nodded and headed for Brass' office. He closed the blinds and lay down on the couch.

About 45 minutes later Brass was calling Grissom's name from the doorway.

"Gil, I hate to wake you, but we are ready to start."

Grissom pulled himself to a sitting position.

"I'll be right there."

"You sure you're up to this?"

"Yeah"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood. The world was tilting a bit but he would make it. He had no choice.

"We're in the briefing room."

"Coming."

Brass had briefed the task force about the missing boys. Grissom was sitting in the back when Nick texted him that their cases might be related. He sighed and left the briefing to go see Nick.

"Okay, so what does your arson have to do with my missing kids?"

Nick explained, "Upon initial search of the premises, the firemen located one adult male, unconscious on the living room floor. His name's Carl Fisher. The paramedics got him on the bumper now. Once he came around, he started claiming every time there's an Amber alert, somebody tries to kill him."

"Child molester."

"Tier Two, by his own admission."

Grissom cocked his head and walked over to see Fisher. He was on the bumper of the ambulance being treated for burns. He had no shoes and was getting his hands wrapped.

"Excuse me Mr. Fisher, my name's Gil Grissom. I'm with the Crime Lab. What happened to your shoes?"

"They were in the house. I was asleep."

"Are you familiar with the names Lucas Hanson or Jason Crowley?"

"The kids from the Amber Alert? No, sir. I'm a convicted pedophile. That would be a violation of my parole."

Grissom was not in the mood to mess around.

"Which is it, boys or girls?"

"Boys, preteen…I know what you're thinking."

"No, you don't"

He walked away. His head was still killing him and he really didn't want to hear a song and dance.

Carl Fisher was taken to the hospital. Grissom was on his way there to process him.

Sara called him.

"Hey, how's the head?"

"It hurts."

"I saw you at the scene."

"Yeah, Nick called me. I'm on my way to the hospital to process Carl Fisher now."

"You have your medicine with you?"

"Yes. You guys almost done with the scene?"

"No, it's going to be a long night. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine, Sara."

She sighed. She really didn't want to get into it with him now. It would not be productive.

"Okay, well, I better get back to work. Call me later?"

"Sure. Be careful."

"Oh you can worry, but not me?" She teased him.

"Haha, I'll talk to you later."

They hung up. Grissom went in to process Fisher. Brass was already in the room with him. Brass had a gut instinct about this guy. Brass's guts were rarely wrong. There was just something not quite right. Neither of them could put a finger on it. He wanted to talk to them.

It was a frustrating case. Time was against them. The longer they were gone the less chance of finding them alive. Grissom new that. He sensed that Carl Fisher wanted something from him as well.

Grissom talked to him some. Then he went back to the lab. He was not in the mood to play games. They could not match shoe impressions.

He head was still killing him. The loud music from the lab went searing through his head in painful jolts.

Greg and Sara were looking at the evidence found at the scene and in the car.

Grissom stormed over to the player and turned it off.

"Didn't we talk about this once before, Greg?"

Sara jumped in, "I'm the one who turned the music on."

She stared him down. Grissom backed off.

"What have you found?"

Greg answered, "A gas container. As the heat melted the plastic it formed pockets, trapping the gasoline inside and if Hodges can isolate any unique compounds from the gas…you know like gas DNA…"

"Gasoline comparisons are only creditable if you have pure samples otherwise there's too many variables."

"I know that, Grissom. What I've extracted was never exposed directly to the fire, so if we can identify either a dye or a unique compound and match it to a particular station then we might be able to prove whether Carl set the fire…I'll get this to Hodges."

Greg left and Grissom turned to Sara. She didn't turn around.

Grissom knew Greg was right. He also knew he was not doing his best thinking.

Sara started, "Greg's got the coroner's inquest coming up. He's been under a lot of stress. Maybe you could be a little nicer to him."

He knew Sara was right about that too.

"I just want to find these boys."

"Okay. Carl Fisher apparently eats and drinks in the backseat of his car." She held up a melted plastic cup, "I found it in the seat pocket if his car."

There was a red liquid dried inside the cup.

Grissom theorized, "Fruit Punch?"

"Or a mixer." Sara held up a cap from a bottle, "Whiskey. I did not find the bottle."

"And…so…."

Sara held up a napkin with mushrooms and pizza sauce, "Mushrooms picked off a cheese pizza. I found it stuffed between the cushions in the backseat of the car. If you are an adult and you don't like mushrooms, you don't order them."

"No, you don't. Fisher has some explaining to do."

He rubbed his temples.

"Head still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Have you taken your medicine?"

"Yes, Dear."

She smiled at him.

"Why don't you go lie down in your office? I'll come get you when we know something?"

"I need to talk to Fisher."

Grissom knew Fisher was lying, but he could not prove it yet. He needed to talk to him again. Fisher wanted to talk to him again as well. Brass called just then.

"Grissom"

"Hi, Gil. Fisher wants to talk to you at the PD."

"I'll be there in a few minutes. I have some questions for Mr. Fisher."

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Grissom talked with Carl Fisher. He showed him some pictures. Carl identified some of them men in the pictures but did not feel that any of them were the suspect they were looking for. He wanted to tell Grissom something, but what. It was like a dance. Grissom was not in the mood to dance. His headache was still pounding in his skull. He had not eaten all shift for fear of losing it. Water and coffee were the only things he managed to consume. Grissom didn't really care that Carl Fisher had been abused as a child. He already knew most offenders had been abused. He was beginning to think Carl wanted to be seen as a kind of hero here. He was not sure. He continued to talk. Grissom was jarred by the beeping of his phone. He had a text message.

It was from Warrick. They found a dead child.

Grissom's heart sank.

Carl Fisher watched Grissom's body language and realized that something was up. He asked, but Grissom stared at him with hard eyes.

Grissom stepped out of the room for moment to call Warrick.

"Warrick, what do you have?"

"Griss, it's Lucas Hanson. Mother confirmed ID. We found him buried at a golf course. We're looking now for Jason."

Grissom sighed heavily, "Thanks, keep me informed."

Grissom knew if the suspect killed one he probably killed the other one as well. He headed back in to talk to Fisher again. He didn't tell him they had found Lucas just yet. He wanted to see where Fisher was going with all of this. Grissom was losing his patience a bit. He continued to talk to Fisher. His head was pounding. He didn't dare take his migraine medication or he would be asleep. He took to Tylenol and went back in. It was tiresome, but he wanted to find the other boy. He finally told Fisher they had found Lucas' body. Fisher showed little reaction, but to ask where the other one was. Grissom thought this was telling, but continued to play the game.

It was a few hours later when they found Jason on a bus headed for Texas. Grissom confronted Fisher and placed him in a lineup. Jason would not say that it was Fisher that had hurt Lucas. They had charged Fisher with arson.

Grissom went to confront Fisher one more time. He was done trying to pussyfoot around him. He decided to push him. In that pushing Fisher confessed to having the boys in the car and to giving them alcohol. He spelled out what happened to Lucas. Grissom didn't buy the excuses. He saw Fisher as a perpetrator not a victim. In the end Fisher was charged with negligent homicide and violation of parole.

Grissom was unmoved. Lucas was still dead. Nothing could change that. He did not get a real sense of closure. A boy was gone and all the legal proceedings in the world would not change that.

He finally could give into the pain. He went to Brass' office and found the couch. The lights flashed outside the window and the voices were distorted and loud. All he wanted was for the pain to stop. He would wait just a little while and then he would go home.

Hours passed as he slept.

Gentle hands shook him awake.

He recognized the voice calling his name.

"Gil….wake up."

He still didn't respond. He knew it was Sara, but the pain was too bad. He just wanted it to end.

"Gil…Brass called me to come get you."

"Sara…hurts….can't drive."

"I know. I'm going to take you home. Come on."

She helped him to a sitting position.

"Can you stand up?"

"I…I think so."

He managed to stand.

"Did you take your migraine medicine?"

"No…can't and drive."

"Where is it?"

"Pocket."

She got his medicine and had him take a dose right there. She then helped him walk out of the station and helped him into the car.

He kept his eyes closed most of the trip home. The light hurt.

"Gil, you need anything?"

He shook his head.

"Have you eaten at all today?"

Again he shook his head.

"Do you want something? Do you think you could keep it down?"

Once more he shook his head.

She let it go for now.

They pulled into the parking lot of the complex. She helped him upstairs and into bed. He finally let the medicine overtake him and passed into unconsciousness.

Sara checked on him every few hours. He slept soundly hardly moving. It had been a long night and another double shift. They were both exhausted. She finally dressed for bed and joined him.

Sara woke first. They were both scheduled to be off that night. It was a rarity that they had the same day off. She tried to get out of bed without waking him, but he stirred when he felt the bed move.

"Hey there. Feeling and better?"

"A little. What time is it?"

"It's about 10:30 pm."

He nodded. The dregs of his migraine were still lingering. The nausea and intense pain were gone. Now he just felt drained. Lack of sleep and food had taken it's toll.

"What day is it?"

Sara laughed, "Saturday."

"That means we are off tonight."

"Yes, it does."

"Hummmmm."

"Why?"

"Well, I have it on good authority that sex is a natural cure for a headache."

Sara laughed, "Site your source."

"In a recent poll of women who suffer from migraines, 61% reported relief from having sex. So what's good for goose must be good for the gander."

Sara could not help herself. She broke out in a full fledged laugh.

"What, do you doubt my research?"

"Gilbert, only you would have would have a scientific study as justification for sex."

"So are you going to help me out here or what?"

"Well, who am I to deny you some pain relief."

She pushed him back down on the bed and straddled him.

"Now was there anything in particular that is supposed to work better than others?"

"Well the report didn't specify any particular activities, let's just wing it."

She leaned down and kissed him, "I think I can accommodate you, sir."

"Well, thank you, Dear."

She kissed him again and began to undress him as she worked her way down his body. His arousal was evidence that he was feeling better.

"Sara, you have too many clothes on."

He pulled her up to him and slid his hands under her shirt and tugged it off over her head.

He pulled her to him again. The feel of her skin against his was sending electric shocks shooting though his senses.

"Sara…" he moaned out as she kissed along her neck and down to her breast. He took it into his mouth as she shuttered.

Sara then removed the rest of her clothing and lowered herself down. She felt Grissom fill her. She began to move on top of him. She knew just how to please him. She could tell by his breathing he was close. She then felt her own orgasm take hold.

"That's it Sara." Grissom called out as she came undone around him.

He was not long behind her. He arched one final time and the flood of his climax filled her.

They were both breathless for a moment.

Sara spoke first, "Well, can we add you to the statistics?"

Grissom laughed, Sara had not heard him laugh like that in a long time.

He kissed her, "Yes, dear, I think we can."

Sara asked, "Did you ask Brass to call me to come get you?"

"No."

"Then how…."

They locked eyes. The same thought crossing both their minds.

"You don't think he….knows?"

Grissom shrugged, "I don't know, Sara. But if he does, he'll keep it quiet. I trust him."

He kissed the end of her nose.

She laid her head down and listened to his heartbeat.

"I trust you." She said.

"Rest Sara, we can both use it."

She nodded and they fell back to sleep.

A/N:

Thanks to Kasey for the help on the statistics. Who else but Grissom would use statistics as a way to get into Sara's pants?