"Warrick, I need your full report of last night's case," I said, grabbing a cup of coffee.

"Coming right up, boss," he said with a smile, turning to walk away.

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide a smile as I did so. I spun around to head back to my office, and I walked right into Nick. My coffee sloshed up over the side of the mug and splattered drops on the front of my shirt.

"Oh, sorry, Griss," Nick said.

"Don't worry about it," I answered, brushing away the drops.

"Hey, do you guys know what happened to Sara?" Greg asked, appearing almost out of nowhere and almost making me spill my coffee again.

"What do you mean?" I responded quickly.

"Well, I was driving by her apartment and I saw police tape surrounding it.

"What?!?!" Both Nick and I cried out.

"So...I'm guessing that neither of you have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Greg asked, suddenly made nervous by the expressions on both men's faces.

"I'll go call someone and try to find out," Nick replied, now even more worried about Sara then he was before.

"I'm sure it's nothing," I said, more to convince myself than anyone else.

"You're probably right, but there's no harm in being careful, right?" Nick started to walk away when the ringing of my cell phone made him turn around again.

"Grissom," I answered, nervous now that Nick was practically hanging over my shoulder, listening for any information about Sara.

"Gil? It's Catherine," she said quickly, seeming to be out of breath. I was suddenly nervous. She barely ever used my first name unless she was upset about something.

"Catherine? Is everything ok?" I asked, worriedly.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean.." She sounded nervous. That's never a good sign. "Sara passed out," she blurted out.

"She WHAT?!?!" I yelled, drawing even more attention to the call. "Why? What happened?"

"I'll tell you everything when you get here. I just need your help," she said, rushing on. "My place. Hurry please."

"Yeah, I'll be right there," I said, already grabbing my jacket and keys.

"Ok." And then she quickly added, "And come alone."

"Of course," I said quickly, but realized that I was talking to an empty line. She had already hung up.

I hurried out of the hallway, trying to avoid Nick's worried look.

"Grissom," Nick called out, jogging to catch up with me. "What happened? Is Sara ok?" He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop.

"Listen, Nick," I began impatiently, "I don't know anything. Catherine just asked me to get over there quickly. She needs my help with something."

"Well, can I come with you?"

I paused, taking my glasses off and cleaning them with the corner of my shirt. "Catherine.she asked.that I come.alone."

I watched his face fall in disappointment and anger. "I'm sure it's nothing though," I added quickly, trying my best to reassure him.

"Right, boss," He replied, turning away and heading back to the breakroom, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

I turned and began walking quickly to the parking lot. By the time I reached my car, I was in a jog. I turned the car on, noticing, as I did so, that my hands had started shaking.

"Calm down, Gil," I scolded myself aloud. "I'm sure everything's fine."

I sped out of the parking lot, almost taking down a fire hydrant in the process. I forced my foot to ease off the accelerator a bit.

I was about 2 minutes from Catherine's house when I got stuck at a 10 minute red light. "Damn light," I cursed. I anxiously drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, doing anything to keep my mind off of Sara and whatever had happened with her.

The second the light turned green, I sped up again and in less then a minute was pulling up in front of Catherine's house.

I turned the car off, grabbed my keys, and leaped out of the car. I ran to the front door and pounded on it, trying hard to keep my cool. "It's open," I heard Catherine call from inside.

I threw the door open and rushed into the living room, where I arrived to find Sara sprawled out on the floor, a pillow under her head and Catherine leaning over her with a wet washcloth, rubbing it over her forehead.

"Grissom," Catherine sighed when she saw me. "Help me move her to the couch."

I rushed over to Sara's side and scooped her up in my arms, placing her gently on the couch. Catherine was immediately at my side again, placing the cold compress onto Sara's head.

"What happened?" I asked Catherine, turning my head toward her at the same moment that she turned hers toward me. I stopped moving, noticing that our lips were only inched apart.

I looked at the smooth softness of them, the fullness, the way they were slightly parted, her breath coming out in jagged breaks. I imagined what it would be like to kiss them. My thoughts cut off as I realized who I was having these thoughts about.

Catherine quickly pulled back, the hint of a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. She looked away. "She passed out," she said softly, nodding towards Sara.

I laughed. "I see that. But what happened that caused her to faint."

"I really don't know," she said guiltily. "I was in the kitchen, making some tea for us, when I heard a loud crash. I ran in and found her sprawled out on the floor, that picture smashed next to her." She gestured to a picture lying on the floor, the glass frame smashed and in bits and pieces.

I picked up the picture and faintly smiled. It was a picture of Catherine, Nick, Sara, and Hank, taken back when Sara and Hank were going out. I recalled the jealousy I had felt every day when I had seen Hank swing by the office to pick Sara up and take her back to her apartment.

I put the picture back down and turned back to Catherine. "What was Sara doing here anyway? Greg told me that there was police tape around her apartment. What happened?" I shot all my questions at her.

Catherine's nervously bit her lip, casting a quick glance at Sara. "Does Sara not want you to tell anyone?" I asked quickly, noting the look of guilt on her face. "It's ok if you tell me," I added, trying unsuccessfully not to sound nosy.

"Well.." She started and then stopped again. Persuaded by my urging look, she continued. "Sara was raped," she whispered, turning her face away. But, before she did, I saw the faint tears glistening in the corner of her eye.

"What?" I asked, astounded. I had assumed it was something bad, but nothing like.like.this.

She nodded, still keeping her face turned from mine. "When?" I asked, my voice in a whisper.

"Last night," she answered, sounding choked. "We went to the hospital and had her checked out. Everything's fine. The police are at her place now, looking for evidence of who it was."

"You mean, she doesn't know who it was?" My voice raised slightly, and I saw Catherine shoot a look at Sara again, afraid that she would wake up and hear us talking about her.

"He was wearing a ski mask." She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes again.

"Is there anything that she does know about him?" I asked, my investigative side immediately stepping in.

"Umm." She thought for a moment. "His eyes."

"His eyes?"

"Yeah.she said something about his eyes.they were brown.familiar."

"You think she knows the guy?" I asked, disgusted.

"I don't know. She thinks she does."

I turned my attention back to Sara, lying still on the couch. It broke my heart to see her lying there, so vulnerable.

Suddenly, as if on command, her eyes fluttered.

"Sara?" Catherine asked, bending down to sit by her side on the couch. "Sara?"

Her eyes fluttered again and then slowly opened. She looked around, her eyes taking everything in. "Sara? Do you know what happened?" I asked, suddenly afraid that maybe she had blanked out, gotten amnesia. The fixed her blank gaze on me, and then my face seemed to register something in her brain.

She nodded slowly, quickly squeezing her eyes shut as pain gripped her head. "Oww.." She moaned, raising a hand to her forehead.

"Grissom?" She asked, her gaze returning to me. "What are you doing here?" Her face turned quickly towards Catherine and then back to me.

"I.uhh.I." I trailed off, thinking of something to say. I was afraid to mention that Catherine had called me, worried that Sara would get angry and push away the one person she felt like she needed at the moment.

"I called him," Catherine stepped in quickly, saving me from having to answer. Sara's look shot back over to Catherine.

"I just.I mean, you passed out.and I needed help.so I just thought."

"It's ok, Cath," Sara answered hoarsely, turning away from us. "I'm assuming she told you what happened," she said, not angrily, more dejectedly.

"Yeah, she did," I answered softly. "But she really needed my help, Sara. She only did it for you."

"I know," she answered, whispering, her voice full of pain.

"So.what happened to make you pass out?" I asked, jumping right to the point.

She took a deep, shaky breath. "The picture," she whispered.

"This picture?" I asked, retrieving the picture that I had looked at a few moments before.

Her eyes flicked to it quickly and she nodded. "Why?" Catherine asked.

"His eyes." Sara said, tears forming in her own.

"Whose eyes?" I remembered what Catherine said earlier.

"His.the guy who.the guy." She let her voice trail off I saw her struggling hard not to cry. It was hard to see her like this. I resisted the urge to take her in my arms. I could hear Catherine sniffling beside me.

I waited as Sara blinked back her tears. She cast a glance at the picture in my hand. "His eyes.they're his eyes." She trailed off again, throwing me desperate look. "I think it's him."

"Who?" Catherine and I asked at the same time.

"Hank."