Black nothingness greeted her tired eyes as they fluttered open.  Sara tried to discern where she was but her thoughts were muddy and her breathing was coming out raggedly –as if a great weight was pressing down on her.  She tried lifting her arm but winced at the pain in her shoulder then at the throbbing ache in her head.  She tried to catch her breath but couldn't draw in the air deep enough.  There was something lying across her chest and when she tried to remove it, she felt flesh beneath her fingertips.  The weight was obviously human.  Still, she pushed harder to get the weight off but barely managed to nudge the person.  Then the person groaned.  The deep, reverberating tone indicated that it was a man.  Beginning to wonder how she'd gotten in this position, she tried again when he lifted himself slightly, enough for her to breathe easily.

            "Sara?" the man asked.

            She thought she recognized the voice.  She asked in return, "Grissom?"    He rapidly moved off of her and she sat up but realized too late that it was the wrong thing to do.  Her head pounded painfully and her hand flew to the source of the pain on the back of her head.  Feeling nauseous, she rolled to her knees, expecting to vomit.  Instead, she began to slowly take some much needed deeper breaths and the feeling subsided.  Noting the grass below her hand and the dew soaking the knees of her jeans, she asked cautiously, "Where are we?" 

            Grissom moved closer, following her voice.  "I don't know.  We are outside though."

            Sara sniffed.  "Ya' think," she said sarcastically.  It was obvious they were outside but the darkness gave them no indication of where they were.  One thing she did know however was that they weren't in Las Vegas.  The bright lights of the city would've provided them with some sort of ability to see.  But wherever they were, there was nothing.  Her mind was in turmoil.  The last thing she remembered was clasping the ring in her hand and then a bright light.  Her left hand was still clenched tightly as if holding something in it.  She peeled back her fingers slowly, using her other hand to feel the ragged edging of the ring.

            "We don't know where we are or what the area is like.  I suggest we wait until daylight before we attempt to go anywhere."  Grissom was full of suggestions all of a sudden.

            Her head hurt so much, but since she didn't know how bad of a concussion she had, sleep didn't seem a wise option.  "Well maybe you can keep me awake somehow."

            Grissom's disembodied voice floated to her from the darkness.  "What do you mean?  Why?"

            She sighed, "Because I think I probably have a concussion and it wouldn't be good for me to fall asleep, although, I've just been sleeping…" her thoughts were getting jumbled and she again put her hand on her head but this time to provide support at her forehead.  Suddenly, she felt Grissom's arms around her, warming her.

            "We're beneath a tree, I'll support both of us with it and you can lean against me.  If you do have a concussion you probably shouldn't lie flat either."  He pulled her tighter against his body, sheltering her from the cold night air.

            She was feeling much more comfortable, but Grissom's touch and body heat were making her want to fall asleep.  "Gris, keep talking," she managed to say before yawning.

            THE AIR SEEMED EXTRA DAMP, almost like Seattle or even San Francisco.  It was nothing like Las Vegas usually is.  "I don't understand it.  We were trying to catch the ring and the next thing, I'm waking up on top of you and we're both outside.  What do you think happened?    How'd we get outside?"

            There was no answer to his question.  He asked it again, when no reply came, he gently shook her.  Still there was no reply.  "Sara?  Come on, Sara, wake up."  He shook her harder and then he heard her grumble.  "Come on, Sara."  He stood with her in his arm, getting her on her feet, hoping to wake her up.

            "Stop shaking me.  I don't feel so good," she protested as he shook her again.

            "Sara, we need to walk.  To keep you awake."  Looking over his shoulder he could see the rising sun.  When he turned back to her, he noticed blood trickling down her forehead; his worry now mounted.  As her feet began to support her weight, he saw her silver field kit.  "Wait, hold on."  He bent down, his hand still grasping her arm, and pulled out a piece of cloth.  His attention now intently on her face, he tenderly dabbed at the blood, pushing her hair upward to see the wound.  It wasn't much of anything, but she must've hit a bleeder.

            Groggily, Sara asked, "What's wrong?  Am I bleeding?"

            "Hmm, yes.  It's not a big cut though… more of a scratch.  The bleeding has stopped," he soothed.  As he continued dabbing at her wound, he glanced circumspectly around them, taking in the countryside.  The area didn't resemble anything near Las Vegas.  Off in the distance he could see a cloud of dust but not the cause of it.  There seemed to be a road a short distance away and he thought it might be a good idea if they headed in that direction.

            Sara looked as though she had her balance so he released his grip on her and started to sort through the case.  Several pieces of jewelry from the crime scene were inside.  As he dug further, he could see there were several others.  He closed the case and picked it up, then again grasped Sara's arm.  "Let's head over in that direction."  He pointed with the hand holding the case towards the road.  They walked slowly, the ground being somewhat uneven.  In Sara's condition, she weaved periodically, losing her balance as they would hit a dip in the ground.  After gaining the ridge of a small hill, they stopped as a cloud of dust appeared nearby, down the dirt road.  It was gathering speed and approaching them.  A thunderous noise also could be heard as it approached.  The closer it came, the more distinct the sound.  As it approached them they could clearly make out four horses and they were pulling an enclosed carriage.  It roared past them on the road below, leaving them to stare after it.

            They were stunned and looked at each other in disbelief.  The dust cloud that followed in the carriage's wake rose to meet them.  They coughed as it overpowered them and both reacted with a wave of their arms in an attempt to clear it.       

            Neither wanting to speculate on what they'd just seen, they stumbled their way down the hill until they reached the road.  Grissom guided her to follow the road in the same direction as the carriage, guessing that wherever the carriage was headed there should be a town or farm.

            The road remained empty on their trek.  It was a couple of miles before he saw the towers of a town on the horizon.  The sun was up high in the sky and was helping the fog clear but didn't allow much for sight.  On their right was a small cottage.  A woman was outside, dressed in a long garment and beating on what appeared to be wet clothing.  The woman hung the clothing on a line with some others then went inside the cottage.

            Sara stumbled on a rut in the road and Grissom was barely able to keep her from falling.  He helped her across the road and to a large tree that provided shade.  It was warm but not hot.  The dampness in the air, however, made it feel worse than it was.  They took a seat under the tree, Sara propping herself up against it as Grissom checked over her head and then her eyes.  "Well your eyes are clear, if a bit red.  I suspect that the concussion is minor.  We'll rest here a bit before moving on."

            Sara sighed heavily.  Irritation was evident in her voice as she asked, "Gris, what the hell is going on?  This can't be happening.  Carriages for god-sakes, out in the middle of… well, nowhere."

            He ran his hand through his curls and glanced around them.  "I really don't know.  It could be for some festival or re-enactment maybe.  But this area doesn't even feel familiar.  I mean except for that time I vacationed in England but that was nothing like this.  Besides, how would we have gotten to England?"

            "We need to get to that town and find out where we are.  Catherine and the guys are probably worried about us."

            Grissom took a moment to look her up and down, taking in her pale features and her blood-shot eyes.  "Do you think you can make it?"

            She wiped her forehead and looked at her hand for a moment.  Then she glanced up to him and silently shook her head.  It was obvious she needed a rest and Grissom was glad he didn't have to argue with her.  He sat down and leaned against the tree next to her, gathering her against him with a deft move of his arm.  She sunk down against his body, sighing with relief as she wrapped her arm around his stomach.  He could hear her breathing grow shallow and knew she'd fallen asleep, almost as soon as she'd gotten herself comfortable.

            He laid his head back against the tree, closing his eyes, thinking of their situation.  As soon as they reached the town they'd be able to ascertain where they were and would be able to get some help.  Sitting beneath the tree, with its abundant shade, was relaxing.  He hummed in appreciation for a moment, all the while stroking Sara's silky hair as if still soothing her.

            When he opened his eyes next, the sun had nearly set and it was getting much cooler.  He hadn't wanted to fall asleep.  He looked down at Sara.  Her head was in his lap and her arm was draped over his legs.  She was still out cold.  She needed the sleep.

            It wasn't long however, before she began to stir.  She started to push herself upright but he could see she was still finding it hard to get her balance.  Swiftly, his arm snaked out and he grabbed her around her waist, easing her backwards to lie against him but in a sitting position.  She held her head for a moment, wincing from pain.  "Are you all right?"

            Sara squinted up to meet his eyes.  "Hmm, I feel really groggy, sort of like I had too much to drink but without the accompanying headache of a hangover."  She lowered her hand as her gaze flew over the scenery and the darkening shadows of the trees.  "Any idea where we are yet?"

            "No, I fell asleep too.  But if you feel you can make it… I'd like to get over to that farm and see if we can speak with someone.  Think you can manage?"  She met his eyes with a pinched smile.

            As they threaded their way through a small stand of trees, they could make out a cottage and its dilapidated state.  Smoke billowed out of the roof on the far side.  Both surmised it was a chimney and wondered why they'd be using a fire on a summer night.  They trudged along until they passed the clothes line, having to duck underneath the clothes to get by.  Sara stopped just after they appeared from under it and turned back to touch the cloth and take a closer look.  Most of the clothing was of a brown color and faded.  A couple of dresses swung in the breeze and were of a rather long length.  Her nose scrunched up in contemplation of what it could mean, but she couldn't fit any pieces together.

            They went to step onto the porch but Grissom held her back and bent over something.  When he stood back up, he had a folded set of papers in his hand.  He carefully unfolded it and squinted at it due to lack of light, the sun already low in the sky.  He couldn't make out much of the wording though.  It occurred to him then that they had a Maglite in Sara's field kit.  He set the kit on the ground and pulled out the light, then flashed it over the top of the page.  Sara peered over his shoulder to read the paper.  She gasped at what she saw, but rapidly covered her mouth to stifle the noise.  The paper read -

The Times

LONDON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1822