Notes: Hey ya'll! Thanks to all of ya'll that reviewed it and let me know
what ya'll think. I got a lot of positive feedback. Sorry if this chapter's
more boring than the last one. It'll get better. Trust me on that.
"Where is Sara?" Grissom growled angrily. "She's never late."
"Chill out, Griss," I said rolling my eyes. "It's only been 20 minutes."
"Where could she be?" Nick asked anxiously, pacing back and forth in the breakroom, where they all waited impatiently for Sara to show up. "You know, I heard there was a bad accident on the highway." He stopped pacing and nervously looked at his watch again, for what must have been the hundredth time in the past 5 minutes.
"Nick, Sara doesn't go through the highway to get here," I explained. "She only lives 5 minutes away."
"You know, most accidents happen within a 5 mile radius of your house," Greg told them, walking into the room.
"Greg," I scolded, "you're not helping."
"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands in resignation.
"I'm sure she's fine," I said, laughing inwardly at the guys' worry for out co-worker. I looked at the two lovesick men, Nick continually pacing the room and looking at his watch, and Grissom walking nervously back and forth between his office and the breakroom.
My phone ringing brought each of us out of our own bubbles of thought. "I bet that's her," I said, laughing, as the guys all crowded around the table. I took out my cell and looked at the caller ID. "Yep, that's her."
I flipped my phone open. "Sara, where are you? The guys are freaking out."
I heard a small whimpering on the other end. "Sara?" I repeated, my smile dying on my lips and my laughter choking off into silence.
"Cath?" I heard the small, shaky voice on the other end, and I almost thought that it wasn't really her, that it had been a wrong number. I checked the caller ID again, and then held the phone back up to my ear, convinced now that it was Sara.
"Sara, are you ok?"
"Cath, I need you," The small, un-Sara-like voice said.
"Of course," I said, already standing and grabbing my stuff.
"And, Cath," Sara added, quietly, "please come alone." And then she hung up.
I listened to the dial tone for a few seconds and then quickly closed my phone and finished gathering my stuff together.
"Catherine, what happened?" Grissom asked. "Is Sara OK?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Something's wrong, but she wouldn't say what. I'm heading over to her apartment now."
"Well, I'm coming with you," Nick insisted, grabbing his coat and following me into the hallway.
"You can't," I said, spinning around to face him. "She specifically asked for me to come alone." I saw his face fall in disappointment, "I'm sorry, Nick, but it's what she wants."
He nodded and turned away, following Grissom back into the breakroom. I turned away and continued down the hall toward the parking lot. By the time I reached my car, I was running, my heart beating with fear and suspense, wondering what could be upsetting Sara so much that she would be forced to call me - ME!! Sara and I weren't enemies, but we'd never exactly been friends either.
When I reached her apartment, my heart was pounding so hard that I thought I would faint. I jumped out of the car, almost leaving my keys in the ignition, and then I dashed up the front steps to her front door.
As I reached the front door, I leaned against it to steady the pounding of my heart, and the door slipped open, throwing me into the apartment. I looked around, fear engulfing me. Sara would never leave the door unlocked - no matter what. I shook with fear and reached into my back pocket, thankful that I had decided to bring my gun along.
"Sara?" I called out, tentatively.
I heard the whimpering sobs coming from the back of the apartment, in the direction of Sara's bedroom. "Sara?" I called out again, still holding my gun out in front of me.
When I entered Sara's bedroom, I found her lying in a crumpled heap on her bed. Her bedside lamp lay in broken pieces, scattered over the bed and the floor. "Sara, are you OK?" I called out as I neared the bed. I tucked my gun back into my back pocket and carefully stepped around the broken pieces to the bed.
Sara raised her head slightly. I gasped at the sight of her bruised and swollen face, dried blood caking the left side of her face.
"Sara, what happened?" I asked, my motherly instincts taking over as I sat on the bed next to her.
She sat up, blinking her eyes rapidly as she did so, as if she was trying to assure herself that I was really there. As she sat up, I noticed her shaking hands holding up her tattered shirt against her chest.
"Honey, what happened?" I asked again, wiping a sweaty piece of hair from her face and examining the cut on the side of her head. It might need stitches.
"I was in here," she started, in small, broken phrases. Her voice was devoid of any emotion. "I had just gotten dressed. And then I turned around, and he was here." She stopped, biting her lip.
"Who was here, sweetie?" I coaxed.
"I don't know," she cried, her voice cracking. "He was wearing a black ski mask. All I could see were his eyes; these brown eyes that could almost see my soul. And then he came towards me. I tried to run for my gun, but he had it. He chased me to the bed. And then he hit me with the lamp. And then he.he.." She broke off into sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her. "It's OK, Sara," I choked out. "It'll all be ok."
"Where is Sara?" Grissom growled angrily. "She's never late."
"Chill out, Griss," I said rolling my eyes. "It's only been 20 minutes."
"Where could she be?" Nick asked anxiously, pacing back and forth in the breakroom, where they all waited impatiently for Sara to show up. "You know, I heard there was a bad accident on the highway." He stopped pacing and nervously looked at his watch again, for what must have been the hundredth time in the past 5 minutes.
"Nick, Sara doesn't go through the highway to get here," I explained. "She only lives 5 minutes away."
"You know, most accidents happen within a 5 mile radius of your house," Greg told them, walking into the room.
"Greg," I scolded, "you're not helping."
"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands in resignation.
"I'm sure she's fine," I said, laughing inwardly at the guys' worry for out co-worker. I looked at the two lovesick men, Nick continually pacing the room and looking at his watch, and Grissom walking nervously back and forth between his office and the breakroom.
My phone ringing brought each of us out of our own bubbles of thought. "I bet that's her," I said, laughing, as the guys all crowded around the table. I took out my cell and looked at the caller ID. "Yep, that's her."
I flipped my phone open. "Sara, where are you? The guys are freaking out."
I heard a small whimpering on the other end. "Sara?" I repeated, my smile dying on my lips and my laughter choking off into silence.
"Cath?" I heard the small, shaky voice on the other end, and I almost thought that it wasn't really her, that it had been a wrong number. I checked the caller ID again, and then held the phone back up to my ear, convinced now that it was Sara.
"Sara, are you ok?"
"Cath, I need you," The small, un-Sara-like voice said.
"Of course," I said, already standing and grabbing my stuff.
"And, Cath," Sara added, quietly, "please come alone." And then she hung up.
I listened to the dial tone for a few seconds and then quickly closed my phone and finished gathering my stuff together.
"Catherine, what happened?" Grissom asked. "Is Sara OK?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Something's wrong, but she wouldn't say what. I'm heading over to her apartment now."
"Well, I'm coming with you," Nick insisted, grabbing his coat and following me into the hallway.
"You can't," I said, spinning around to face him. "She specifically asked for me to come alone." I saw his face fall in disappointment, "I'm sorry, Nick, but it's what she wants."
He nodded and turned away, following Grissom back into the breakroom. I turned away and continued down the hall toward the parking lot. By the time I reached my car, I was running, my heart beating with fear and suspense, wondering what could be upsetting Sara so much that she would be forced to call me - ME!! Sara and I weren't enemies, but we'd never exactly been friends either.
When I reached her apartment, my heart was pounding so hard that I thought I would faint. I jumped out of the car, almost leaving my keys in the ignition, and then I dashed up the front steps to her front door.
As I reached the front door, I leaned against it to steady the pounding of my heart, and the door slipped open, throwing me into the apartment. I looked around, fear engulfing me. Sara would never leave the door unlocked - no matter what. I shook with fear and reached into my back pocket, thankful that I had decided to bring my gun along.
"Sara?" I called out, tentatively.
I heard the whimpering sobs coming from the back of the apartment, in the direction of Sara's bedroom. "Sara?" I called out again, still holding my gun out in front of me.
When I entered Sara's bedroom, I found her lying in a crumpled heap on her bed. Her bedside lamp lay in broken pieces, scattered over the bed and the floor. "Sara, are you OK?" I called out as I neared the bed. I tucked my gun back into my back pocket and carefully stepped around the broken pieces to the bed.
Sara raised her head slightly. I gasped at the sight of her bruised and swollen face, dried blood caking the left side of her face.
"Sara, what happened?" I asked, my motherly instincts taking over as I sat on the bed next to her.
She sat up, blinking her eyes rapidly as she did so, as if she was trying to assure herself that I was really there. As she sat up, I noticed her shaking hands holding up her tattered shirt against her chest.
"Honey, what happened?" I asked again, wiping a sweaty piece of hair from her face and examining the cut on the side of her head. It might need stitches.
"I was in here," she started, in small, broken phrases. Her voice was devoid of any emotion. "I had just gotten dressed. And then I turned around, and he was here." She stopped, biting her lip.
"Who was here, sweetie?" I coaxed.
"I don't know," she cried, her voice cracking. "He was wearing a black ski mask. All I could see were his eyes; these brown eyes that could almost see my soul. And then he came towards me. I tried to run for my gun, but he had it. He chased me to the bed. And then he hit me with the lamp. And then he.he.." She broke off into sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her. "It's OK, Sara," I choked out. "It'll all be ok."
