Disclaimer: Not Mine!

Comments: or via review is fine.

A/N: I didn't decide to write this till like 5 weeks after the actual showing of 'Playing with Fire', but here it is! It's sorta a one day fic, so it's a bit rushed.

Please note the events are as accurate as I can get them and the things that seem a bit odd are probably cause I added them in!

Summary: Based on Playing with Fire. A closer look at emotions, events, and a slightly different ending. A reason why you should care about your friends and not jump to conclusions. Another look at Sara's past. Grissom/Sara.

Enjoy!

Sara Sidle sat down to her lunch. Sandwich from the deli in a ziplock bag, and a pickle. The usual.

Actually, the pickle reminded her of an experiment that Grissom had done during a case of supposed electrocution. It was strange. Grissom asking about the guy's genitals. But they had cracked the case. And that was after turning Sara's pickle into a light bulb.

Speaking of Grissom.. Sara was reminded of the annoying tech in the Grissom and the annoying Hodges. Hodges always seemed to get the results to Grissom no matter who was on the case.

Nick had said earlier, 'I can guarantee you that Hodges will get the results to Grissom before us.' Or something along the lines of that.

Grissom-pet.

The phrase was familiar. She remembered that Nick had once called her that. During the period of time when she had stolen Grissom's tarantula, and Warrick's horse shit comments. a/n: referring to my other fic, Decaffeinated Tarantula

No, Hodges wasn't a Grissom pet. He was more of a Grissom-Pest.

Getting up, Sara left her lunch at the break room table to follow Grissom who was walking past.

First he was stopped by one of the clerks who handed him a memo and exchanged a few words.

Next stop was Greg in the DNA lab. Something about nail clippers and proving the suspect had sex. Something else about Victim, Suspect, Crime Scene——Grissom's Holy Trinity.

Gave the tech a brief lecture on priorities from what Sara could hear, anyway, and went off again.

After that was done, he continued his journey, with clipboard in hand, to stop to see Archie and Nick working in the audio lab. He was caught up with their progress and headed for his office.

Something about digital feed, or something else. Cueing up the tapes. Something along the lines of audio.

Then another clerk stopped him. Giving him yet another memo. Sara looked past the two people for a moment to see if Hodges was around and spied a poster reading. 'Nail them."

Sara smiled wryly. Figured that she would see that after listening to Grissom talk about nail clippers. Ironic.

Bingo! Next came Hodges sauntering up to Grissom waving the lab reports. Shaking her head, knowing she would get the test results eventually, she walked back to retrieve her lunch.

But she never got there.

She had barely taken three steps when she saw Greg turn his back away from the fume hood in his lab and the entire middle section of the lab explode.

The force sent Sara against the wall, her hand catching some of the flying shards of glass. She raised her head to see the DNA lab destroyed and transformed into a model of melted glass and metal.

Concerned, her eyes roamed the lab to seek out its main inhabitant's body or wacky hair. She found it.

Greg was on his left side, both arms stretches above his head. He raised his face weakly to survey the damage before becoming limp again.

Outside in the parking lot, the occupants of the Las Vegas Crime lab had been evacuated and various EMT personnel were treating cuts and extracting slivers of glass from wounds.

It was bustling with activities as a result of a negative event. The crowd quieted when they saw a figure being rushed to the ambulance by EMT. People not being treated gathered around Greg, who had been the center of the entertainment needed to do their jobs, all quiet and still.

Their moods sank further as they watched the ambulance pull out of the parking lot, hoping that he would not be in the morgue.

While all this was happening, no one noticed Sara sitting quietly and sadly on the curb of a parking spot. It was as if the entire world had forgotten her, paying attention to those who hadn't even been near the explosion.

No one noticed the woman staring, with unfocused eyes, at the ground. Except Grissom.

He walked over to her, taking in her shocked and dazed state and quietly crouched in front of her. Asking about her condition.

She automatically answered with a barely distinguishable sound. Not satisfied with the answer, he took her hand. It didn't look good. So he told her.

"Honey, this doesn't look good." Grissom said gently, looking into Sara's eyes. He didn't even notice his term of endearment.

Sara did but was too shocked to become enlightened by it. Honey. A term she thought that he would never call her. She attempted to change the subject.

"It's fine. Clean up is going to be something. We should get started."

Grissom just looked at her and said that she needed to get stitches, emphasizing his point by maintaining eye contact.

Sara almost agreed to do it voluntarily just from the look in his eyes. His blue eyes telling her that he cared.

"I'm fine." She insisted, still dazed.

Sighing at Sara's continuous stubbornness he called an EMT over to take care of her hand and check her forehead.

Still in her quiet state, she got up. She really didn't like them. Not after Hank. She didn't like them whether she knew them or not.

Sara allowed herself to be gently guided to an ambulance but not before shooting Grissom a look of quiet hurt for not trusting her to look after herself.

Grissom let out a breath. It was only eleven o'clock. The day HAD to get better.

Behind him, he heard Cavallo on his cell phone with someone, probably the sheriff.

The Lab Director ended the call and asked in an accusatory tone. "What the hell did you do to my lab?"

Grissom raised his eyebrows and focused on the chaos of the parking lot before training turning his attention to Cavallo. It was going to be a hell of a long day.

Walking through the lab with Cavallo had been no fun.

The older man had been on his case about loss of evidence, the DA's office, the damage bill, possible loss of life and how it would look for the Sheriff without showing any sympathy whatsoever for Greg's state or anyone else's.

He hadn't even given Grissom a chance to defend his people. Cavallo had assumed that just because Grissom's shift was in the lab, it was his fault.

Grissom did not understand the man. How such a man could end up with such a position as Las Vegas Crime Lab Director was completely beyond him.

They wandered through the corridor. Cavallo yakking away, going over and over his points arguments to the point where Grissom was actually glad of his hearing disorder. He looked at the DNA lab and could tell there had been no bomb.

It wasn't supersonic, though there had been sufficient force to push and break the safety glass but evidently not enough to disconnect the precautionary Fire Extinguishing System.

Which led to him to suspect that the explosion had occurred of a primary and secondary source in which the primary source first had to be activated.

From previous experience, Grissom theorized that the substance had been in a semi- liquid, semi-solid state, a bit like a gel. Maybe an alkaline solution with chlorine, maybe a bit of magnesium.

But not something like 'yellow' phosphorous. That was solid and was used in incendiary bombs, which caused fires, and there was no considerable fire damage done.

It was probably a good thing that the United States Forensics Organization had funded their lab generously enough the previous year and had installed special tanks to put out extinguish lab incidents. The liquid worked better than CO2 and dried without damaging computers, lab equipment, evidence, or lab experiments, leaving only a slight powdery residue.

Tuning into his current conversation again, he told the director that he would get Catherine to handle the investigative incident report because he was on a case.

Soon after, Cavallo left him. Relieved, Grissom went to his office to contact Catherine.

Sara entered the suspect's apartment room with Brass and two other officers. They hadn't cleared the scene yet, but Sara figured it'd be okay to unholster her weapon and help. She checked the bathroom.

Their guy was in there and she called them over. Brass quickly got the guy. When the officers had him, Brass turned to her and told her roughly to holster her weapon then gave her the dress-down for standard CSI procedure.

With the guy handcuffed, Sara started on the scene. Nick soon joined them and while he and Sara were searching through the drawers, he asked her, "Have you ever had a gun drawn on you before?" He asked, as if he was accusing her too.

"No, I haven't." Sara replied trying to answer as steadily as possible so as not to give away her past. She tried to squeeze out the memory of her past. It worked. But just barely.

She obtained the evidence, relating to the red and blue fibers they had found and quickly left the scene without Nick. She sent a message for Nick to catch a ride with Brass and drove to a hotel.

Nick got the message and caught a ride with Brass, feeling a bit guilty for some reason.

A/N: After this part, things will not be based on the episode anymore. Greg is not in hospital. because it wasn't that serious. Catherine is still peeved at Sara. And they still hate Hodges. I couldn't think of any names but I don't own the actual characters from other shows!

... about an hour later

Sara had checked into the hotel. One of her few friends, outside of the lab worked there and owed her a few favors so Sara cashed in. She would have gone home, but the others would have checked on her there and it was way too messy, anyway.

Even Sara, who was usually a meticulous person, admitted to it looking like a robbery crime scene, with a tomato sauce stain still on the wooden floor, knives from making last night's dinner still lying around.

Now she had a deluxe suite. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and her shift didn't end until midnight. She called Grissom and told him she wasn't going to be in for a couple of hours. He agreed, although he wanted her to take a week off, but Sara refused.

Turning her cell off, she lay back on the bed, trying to push everything out of her head. But her brain wouldn't allow it. And kept short-circuiting to when she was a teenager and had been Harmony Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb.

Tired from blocking out thoughts, Sara fell asleep tossing and turning.

...Four hours later.

"Hey Griss where's Sara? I saw her in the hallway before she left to get the perp, but she didn't look good." Warrick asked walking into the breakroom, Nick beside him. He and Catherine were done with the explosion investigation, all evidence pointing to Hodges. (a/n: hehe)

"She asked for a few hours off." Grissom said.

"When?" Asked Nick.

"She called after she left the perp's place, Nick, about four hours ago. You should know."

"Well, where the hell is she?" Catherine demanded impatiently. She and Sara hadn't been on excellent terms since Eddie's death.

"She didn't leave the scene with me. She sent me a text message to leave with Brass."

"Well, she said she wanted a few hours off, chances are she'll be at her house. I'll give her a call." Warrick said reaching for his cell phone when Greg came rushing into the room.

"Do any of you know where Sara is? The phone at her place is off the hook and her cell is off."

Warrick put down his phone and stuck it in his pocket.

"Oh my God!" Nick said.

"What now?" Catherine asked, annoyed.

"I can't believe Brass and I were so mean to her today. I've been feeling guilty since I came back from the crime scene, but I didn't know about what. I completely forgot that she almost got blown up, and I just accused her of thinking that she was indestructible and asked her point-blank whether she had ever had a gun drawn on her or not."

"Oh Nick..."

"I didn't even stop to ask how she was. I just assumed she couldn't do her job properly."

"Sara's the best in this line of work, if nothing else," Greg said sadly.

"Shouldn't we call Brass or something?" Grissom asked, ever the boss.

"I'll call." Warrick said.

The others all waited around. Greg paced, Catherine sipped her coffee, Grissom examined the ants on Sara's unfinished lunch, and Nick stared off into space.

"He's on his way over." Warrick said, hanging up. "I left a message on Sara's phone to call us too. That is if she hasn't been made to ditch that already."

"I can't believe I was so mean to her. It's been what......3 months since Eddie died, and I'm still taking it out on her, when she solved the case, the least painful way possible." Catherine said softly, ever the mother. "She was so kind to Lindsey too."

"She knew what you were going through, Catherine." Warrick said sitting next to her. "I hate to say this, but I think Greg and maybe Griss were the only ones who really gave her a chance. None of us really gave her the chance to really fit in and hang out. Even after three years."

"Guys. Hate to interrupt your guilt session, but I just got called in on one of Sara's crazy stunts again."

"You're one to talk, Brass." Nick said more harshly than he intended. "You did know that she almost got blown up today, didn't you?"

"Really?" Brass said. "Shit. So that was why she wasn't paying attention and her hand was bandaged. And I really ripped into her."

"So I heard." Grissom spoke up. "Okay people. I think we can say that Sara is... MIA and we need to go over to her place. Nick, Catherine, you're with me, we'll go over to Sara's place and process it. Warrick, you and Brass round up Vega and O'Reilly and see what you can find. Check computerized data, and be main switchboard and do evidence as well."

"My god, our Sara's Missing-In-Action." Greg said, rushing off to tell Archie, Bobbie and Jacqui.

They all split up. Catherine, Nick and Grissom gathered their field kits and set off.

They arrived 15 minutes later at Sara's apartment, where Catherine and Nick came across the problem of how to get in. Grissom however, was unfazed. He pulled out his set of keys, inserted one into the lock and the door swung open.

"She gave it to me when she moved to Vegas." He explained.

They entered Sara's apartment and saw the mess it was in.

Shoes behind the door were no longer in neat lines, chairs were pushed over, glasses and their contents lay spilt on the coffee table, which was also crooked.

Cushions were on the floor. The overall arrangement and level of tidiness (or lack of) was very atypical of the Sara they knew.

"Uh can I just say, this looks like a crime scene?" Nick said nervously.

"I'll take the bedroom and bathroom." Catherine said.

"I'll take the Kitchen." Nick answered.

"I'll take the living room, then."

When Catherine walked into Sara's bedroom, she did not like what she saw. Her bed was unmade with one distinct imprint of a human body clear on the bed. Maybe Sara had been held down.

The CSI loaded a roll of film and snapped pictures. She turned over some cushions and found blood on one of them and swabbed it.

Lifting the blankets, she found brown, blood-like stains at the foot of the bed as well as marks in the wooden frame. She took pictures and swabbed samples.

Next she moved to the trashcan where she found several paper towels covered in blood and notice blood smears on the wooden floor. Again, she took pictures and collected swabs.

On her way out, she noticed a variety of creams and brushes fallen from the dresser and a sharp knife lying among the mess that didn't fall off. The blonde CSI processed what she saw and moved into the bathroom.

She found blood in the sink, trash can, and shower door and edge of the toilets as well as drops on the tiles, where a feeble attempt had been made to remove them. Catherine sprayed the room with luminol and found there was a testable amount of blood in the toilet.

Unfortunately, the bathroom literally glowed.

Turning the lights on again, Catherine began extracting hairs.

All of this she bagged and labeled before checking over again and processing the rest of the house. It wasn't looking good for Sara.

Nick let his keen eyes run over the kitchen before commencing his search. He started over began at the sink. He saw traces of blood on the bench tops, which he thought odd, because Sara was a vegetarian. He swabbed and photographed broken dishes in the bin, fallen cans from the cupboard as well.

He walked over to her knife stand. Three were missing. Nick had a similar set at home, and noticed the meat knife, the cleaver, and the meat mallet thing, which had traces of gray matter on it. Brain matter, maybe. Nick winced at the thought.

He looked at the floor and found red and brown stains in the floorboards with faint smears.

The more he looked, the more disturbing the tale the 'evidence' speculated.

Grissom looked around the living room, which would have been very attractive and modern had it not been for the state it was in. He started at the coffee table. He squinted at the corner where he discovered traces of reddish brown on the lighter brown wood, along with a few dark hairs on the floor and caught to the corner.

Collected and categorized.

He processed the rest of the table. Not finding much, he moved to her shelves, where he found a wide range of books. Physics, Chemistry, Forensics, Law, and an FBI business card with the details crossed off and new information written on the back, lying around.

Grissom bagged the card and looked around, only to locate a dead goldfish on the ground by the radiator. He put that in a specimen box and continued his walk, finding a piece of cord, which look like it had been cut off.

He looked at his watch. The three of them had been there for two hours already. Grissom called the other two and they packed up and left to process the evidence at the lab.

Warrick sat in the audio lab with Archie running through a replayed version of the short conversation she had had with Grissom earlier, and one thing struck him as odd. If Sara had been forced to go with a kidnapper, wouldn't she have taken the week off?

Unless she had been sure she'd be able to get away. And while Warrick didn't doubt that, Sara was a smart girl, the brunette had to be penalized in her current state of mind and her previous events.

He turned back to Archie who was trying to isolate the background noises.

Warrick had already put a trace on both his and Sara's phones so if he called her, or vice versa, her location would be tracked.

Sara groaned as she rolled over. She looked at the time. Over six hours had passed. She got up quickly and turned her phone on to check her messages. One from Warrick, asking her to call him back.

Probably about the explosion.

She got up to stand near the post of the four-poster bed, with a funny crawly feeling and dialed Warrick's number.

He answered on the second ring.

"Sara! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said automatically, looking down at her jeans, trying to see if a bug was crawling around.

"We've all been so worried. Can you talk freely? If not just answer no to my question."

"Warrick... what is this?'

"Are you still in Vegas?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know where you are?"

"Yeah, I'm ..." She slumped to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

"Sara? Sara? Are you there?"

There was no reply.

"Archie, did you get the location?" Warrick asked, not hanging up in case they needed more time.

"Yeah. She's at the Skylab Hotel. Multi-million dollar hotel, opened just 6 months ago. Next to The Sphere. You can't miss it."

"Thanks dude." He ran out to reception to send a message out on the PA system, he figured it was easier than sending seven pages.

"All night shift CSIs, Sanders, Detectives O'Reilly, Brass and Vega, Break room. ASAP."

In the breakroom...

"Alright." Warrick said once everyone was in the breakroom. Bobby, Archie, and Jacqui present also. "Where are Vega and O'Reilly?"

"They're away. One is sick, and the other is at a conference." Brass said.

"We got Sara's location narrowed down to the Sky Lab hotel. Multi-million dollar, newly built hotel near the Sphere."

"Wow. We haven't even gotten the evidence processed yet." Catherine said.

"What are we waiting for?" They all left. Greg, Archie, Bobby and Jacqui to their labs to worry and twiddle their thumbs. Nick, Warrick and Brass in one car. Grissom and Catherine in the other.

"You know Gil, we've found her this time. Next time we may not be so lucky."

"I know. Why are you telling me this?'

"Because your head is stuck in a microscope." Catherine answered. "Even Greg notices the dance between the two of you. And I might not have liked Sara very much, but she does have a certain power over you."

"Ahh...my secret drug past?" Grissom suggested sarcastically. "That's what she's holding over my head."

"I'm serious Gil. Just think about it."

'Okay, okay!"

Soon after, they pull up at the hotel.

"Have you seen this woman?" Brass demanded at reception after showing his badge.

"Yeah room..."

Sara moved her head slightly, a throbbing head in her temple. When the world stopped spinning, she remembered what had happened.

flashback

She let out a scream when she stumbled over something. Dropping the phone, she backed away, tripping over something and hitting her head on the corner of the bed.

end flashback

She bought her hand up to her temple and winced. She found blood and touched at the forming bruise.

The CSI heard some shuffling noises outside her room and rolled over to see whom it was, taking out her gun.

She clicked off the safety when she heard a crashing on the door, and then heard it burst open, almost breaking it off its hinges.

"Las Vegas, poli...."

"Hi Brass!" Sara said with a level of sarcastic brightness and then wincing. "Guys, wait until he's cleared the scene. So you don't get yelled at by your co-workers."

"Sara..." Nick started.

Sara ignored him and grumbles. "Don't you guys have anything better to do than kick down doors then replace them?"

"Uh..."

"Shut the door and the whole damn bunch of you come in." She said, clicking the safety back on and getting up carefully.

She watched Brass, Catherine, Grissom, Nick, and Warrick all paraded sheepishly through the door.

Before anyone spoke, Nick spoke up. "Before anything is said, I think that I speak for Brass too when I say we're sorry for getting...peeved at you today at Mickey D's place."

"Yeah, Nick forgot and I didn't know about you and the... explosion."

"Yeah. Blame Hodges." Catherine said.

"The asshole." Warrick voiced his thoughts. "I'll bet it was deliberate too."

"Never did like the lab tech. Too annoying. Likes to suck up too much. Too hard to get along with. Greg on the other hand.....he's funny and odd, but he's great to have around."

Catherine, Nick and Warrick exchanged surprised looks as Grissom made this nonchalant speculation.

They all settled near the four sofas (well they don't call it deluxe for nothing) and that's when Grissom noticed her head and walked toward her.

"Honey, what the heck did he do to your head?" He asked gently.

The others just smiled at his wording. Sara looked confused as she settled into one of the couches next to Nick that Grissom helped her into, and watched as Grissom ignored a scowl from Catherine. Well, there WAS an empty seat next to him!

"Wait. What do you mean 'He'? Who are you talking about?"

"The guy that gave you that bruise?" Nick explained.

"There was a guy?" Sara asked, very confused.

"Yeah. I was on the phone with you. You screamed. You dropped the phone, I heard a thump and a crack." Warrick clarified.

"That was me tripping over a chair, I think it was, and falling, hitting my head on the edge of the bed."

"Oh. Well what about the evidence we found at your place?" Catherine asked.

"You guys were there. How come you didn't get lost? I mean I'm not mad. But, hell, I can't sort anything out in that place." Sara said. "And I supposedly live there, though I spend more time at the lab. That's why I'm here and not home."

"Well I found a dead goldfish lying around, judging from the lack of insects, not very old, your hair and blood on the coffee table. And a short bit of cord."

"Dead goldfish, I was going to cut it up. Sorta like an autopsy. I didn't kill it. I have an alibi! Just found it dead and didn't have the heart to flush it. The cord was from a package I ordered. As for the blood and hair, I scraped my shin, must have leaned over and gotten my hair caught."

"The dried blood on the foot of your bed, blood on your pillow, blood in your toilet, sink, shower and tiles in the bathroom? As well as your trash can full of bloodied paper towels. How about the meat knife in your bedroom? As far as I know, you don't even eat meat, Sara."

"You guys really are thorough. The supposed 'blood'," Sara emphasized the last word. "Perhaps 'substance' is the better word. The substance near the foot of the bed was nail polish. Brown nail polish. Blood dries... you get the picture. As for the blood under the pillow, I had a nose bleed, and I used the towels to try stop it, went to the bathroom, by then I had blood dripping on the floor, and the sink where a I tried to wash it all off. I washed the blood off in there so naturally, if you used luminol, which I'm sure you would have, the room would have glowed. As for the toilet. I'd rather not say."

Catherine smiled at the last bit. "Yeah. You'd better not. Even Gil would be grossed out. What about the knife?"

"As I said, I received a package, and I'd been trying to open it. But couldn't find my scissors so I used the first knife I could find."

"Alright, Sara. My Turn." Nick grinned at her. "Bright Red, a duller red and brown stains in floorboards, cloth marks left. Broken dishes in bin. Fallen cans. A knife collection, similar to one I myself have at home with a meat mallet, cleaver and meat knife missing. Now the meat knife has been accounted for, but the others aren't. The mallet also has gray matter on it, so unless you were playing judge with a gavel on.....say, Play-Doh, I don't know what to think."

"Well Nicky. You say you're from Texas. You heard of steak sauce? BBQ Sauce? Tomato Sauce? Well, take into account those three things, you end up with blood, in inverted commas. Bright red stains would have been the food colorings I was using in a weird experiment. Don't ask. Just because I have a knife set, doesn't mean I use them ALL, Nicky. The cleaver is at my neighbour's. She didn't have one and the meat mallet.. well that was from a case, I brought it in myself, blunt force trauma, turns out I was right too. So now you know what to think."

"My turn." Brass said impishly. "Why'd you sleep so long or not so long or... whatever?"

"Because, Captain, there are 23.56 hours in a day, I spend 18 of them working, 4 of them pretending to sleep and half an hour driving to and from work, and 50 minutes to cook, eat my meals and have a shower. 16 minutes to check my email with 2 minutes to turn it on and off. 10 minutes to do what ever else I need to do. 4 minutes to tell my mum the world is not going to die, another 4 minute to tell my dad hi, and the last 4 seconds to turn of the damn light switch." Sara said smartly with a smile.

"Wow. You worked all that out just then?"

"No. I've been waiting for you to ask that, Brass. And that's when I don't do my laundry. When I do, I usually need an extra three minutes and fifty-seconds, that comes from the common belief of 24 hours, and deducting a 1 minute 50 seconds from every section of my timetable. Plus..."

"Okay. You got me." Brass said holding his hands up. Sara just smiled.

Grissom spoke up, holding up a bagged piece of evidence, and asked in the tone of voice he usually used at the end of an interrogation to give a final comment or ask a final question to the suspect. In this case it was Sara. In typical Grissom fashion:

"What I don't get: the FBI card I found. What was that for?" At his question, the other's noticed that Sara visibly paled.

"Call it. You'll get your answer." Sara said, standing up to walk to a window.

Grissom picked up his phone and called.

"Special Agent Clayton Mulder."

"This is CSI Agent Gil Grissom from Las Vegas Crime Lab. Could you tell me your Agency and Department, please?"

"I'm FBI, I'm with the Witness Protection Program."

"Alright. Thank-you." He hung up.

The other's all looked from Grissom to Sara, then back at Grissom.

"You're part of the FBI Witness Protection Program?"

"There comes a time, when I have to apologize for my past and tell you what I've kept from all of you. Yes I am part of the Program. Since I was 14. I guess I owe all of you an explanation. But you understand that no one else can know this information, other than Greg, Bobby, Archie and Jacqui and that's if I choose to tell them."

Receiving nods of confirmation, she proceeded to tell them her secret past.

"I was walking out of the gate at the airport, I was living in near Washington D.C back then, coming back from visiting my aunt. This man grabbed me, and put a gun to my head threatening to shoot if I so much as made a squeak. He knocked me out and when I woke up again, I was strapped to astrolite and C4. While I was out, he must have gotten another gun, because he walked from the janitor closet, I think, and started spraying bullets. The police were there within five minutes, the FBI in fifty. They had snipers, and everything."

"He said to me he was a terrorist who was on a suicide mission for his country and explained how everything would work from how the bomb was made to why and who the orders were made from. I later found that all the information was fake." She paused for breath.

"So, then the FBI sent in a negotiator. As standard procedure, the negotiators aren't armed except for maybe the odd ankle holster and Kevlar vest. This guy shot the Agent in the head, I remember trying to run, but I got shot in the arm."

Sara squeezed back the tears at the back of her eyes as Nick held her hand.

"Some sniper shot him, and he died, but the agents didn't know that there was a back up plan. That if they got the vest off me, a timer from the terrorist watch would be automatically set off, and with in two minutes, the bomb that I was wearing would go off. So they got it off me, I was sitting maybe 25 feet away from where they left the vest, waiting for medical treatment and suddenly it went off. I was in a coma for weeks, and in protective custody, where they convinced me join the FBI Witness Protection Program."

"I assumed a new identity, Sara Sidle, physics nut, not that I ever minded. I never had much of a choice, they FBI told me they found out that the guy was part of Al Queda, Talibans, and would target me again for revenge. The man you talked to, Grissom, is my dad. He and my mom were always with the FBI, I just never knew, and transferred to WPP so they could stay in contact."

As Sara finished her tale, everyone looked shocked, and was silent.

"So you see. I've been Sara Sidle since I was 14. Before that, I was Harmony Sarah Mackenzie- Rabb. I even have a different last name to them now. I'm Dana and Clayton Mulder's daughter. But I can't say anything. Every time I visit them, I have to have an agent with me, my cell phone is a secure line, which can't be traced or tracked, unless I put a non- silencer gadget on it. Which in this case, as Warrick will have realized, I didn't put on. My phone also has a bug killer that intercepts all signals except the ones on my frequency and my model. "

"Now I see why you were so shocked when you were sitting in the parking lot earlier." Grissom said.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you guys earlier. But I didn't really have a choice. I think I'm going to transfer out of the lab. Now that I've told you, the terrorist might torture you." Sara said, looking down. "Or the FBI might kill you. Now that I've told you, I have to kill you." She grimaced at her own joke.

"Now you're just being stupid," Warrick said. "Who the hell is Greg going to hit on now? Catherine?"

"Oh no. Sara. You are staying." Catherine said. "And not just because of Greg, but I want you here, too. You're a damn good CSI and you deserve a lab that respects you and looks up to you. I'm sorry that I've been so mean to you for so long Sara. It wasn't your fault Eddie died. The son-of-a-bitch deserved it anyway."

"I shouldn't have asked you about the gun, at the suspect's place, Sara. I'm sorry. Guess I should have known about your hand to." Nick said sincerely. "But you are not going. Warrick and I can't tease anyone when you're gone. Catherine has ...difficulties coming up with smart and sarcastic remarks."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, or Brass will have another Homicide."

"Yeah. I need someone to yell at, for starting on crime scenes before they're cleared." Brass said. "Which by the way I'm sorry for today."

"What these lame-asses are trying to tell you here is," Grissom said, ignoring all the faces being made at him. "We need you at the lab. We WANT you at the lab. And you're PART of the lab. And you're not Harmony Sarah Mackenzie Rabb, bomb victim, anymore. You're Sara Sidle, CSI of Las Vegas Crime Lab, among other things of course. A lab is not a lab without its people."

"Thanks guys. Nice to know you worried enough to treat my house as a crime-scene thank-you very much." She faux huffed and then brightened. "I guess you can page me for the next case, Griss."

"Looks like we better get back to the Lab. We got five maybe four hours of the shift to go," Catherine said.

"You, young lady, are taking a rest. Even if you are going to sleep in the breakroom. No more field cases!" The supervisor pointed at the brunette.

"What ever," Sara said. She was happy, glad, and relieved that her friends now knew her secret.

This time they paraded out the door, without Brass breaking the door. Catherine followed, Warrick, Nick, Griss-...

"Grissom, could you stay for a while?" Sara asked.

"Sure."

"Tell Nicky to tell Cath that so she won't treat your house like a crime scene and kill Fluffy."

"You got a point. Hey Nick! Tell Catherine I'm staying with Sara." He called around the corner and received a nod from Nick's head.

"Cat! Sara told Grissom to tell me to tell you that Griss is staying with Sara for a while."

"How on earth did you manage to remember that?" Catherine said with a smile.

"I didn't. I just remembered what Sara said and the rest just follows."

"Right." Brass said.

"I wonder what those two are up to?" Nick wondered out loud, as the walked into the elevator.

"Man, you have a dirty mind." Brass commented.

"Me? I wasn't even thinking dirty. You were the one who was."

"Children." Catherine and Warrick said.

"Sounding like parents already." Nick said grinning at Brass.

"You are dirty." Brass chuckled, noticing the aforementioned two CSIs blushing.

"You want something to drink?" Sara offered.

"No thanks. How'd you get this room anyway? It must have cost a fortune. And you were only planning to spend a few hours here."

"A friend of mine works here. She owed me."

"How's your hand?"

"It's fine, Griss."

"Just checking."

"Ok. The schedule says you're off tomorrow."

"I am."

"So am I."

"You should be on paid leave."

"I'm fine Griss. Do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow?"

"No........" Grissom answered slowly.

"Why not? Let's have dinner and see where it goes." Sara said, eyes pleading.

Grissom sighed. "Sara, I don't know what to do about this."

"I do." Sara said softly.

"What?" Curious.

"Give me a chance to at least convince you." She said, and walked over to him. "Will you?"

"Okay." He said, looking into her eyes wondering what her next move would be.

Sara stared back at his blue eyes, almost getting lost in them. She put a hand on his neck and leaned towards him. Her lips were barely millimeters away when she changed her course, letting her lips graze his cheek before pulling away.

"You know by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late."

Quietly, she walked over to the balcony and looked out into the slowly darkening sky. It was Vegas. It wouldn't get dark. She looked down sadly not hearing her companion move to stand behind her.

"Sara?"

No reply.

"Look at me."

Slowly Sara turned around, not knowing what to expect, and met his eyes.

"Convince me again. Properly."

And she did, looking deeper into his eyes, and seeing no hesitation, she moved in, to have her lips be met by his at half way. A gentle yet shocking current was felt by both parties as they wrapped their arms around each other.

Grissom reached a hand up to run through her hair, gently cupping her cheek as Sara tightened her arms around his neck. Needing oxygen, the pair came up for air.

Looking into Sara's chocolate depths, he asked her mischievously, "Hungry, honey?"

"I will be tomorrow." She grinned, showing the cute gap in her teeth, pretending to look at her watch. "Just in time too. Not too early. Not too late." She said the last part so he knew she meant it.

"Come here." He said, punishing her with a rough kiss.

Sara moaned and slid her tongue to the seam of his lips, only to be taunted by being denied entry.

"Convince me." He whispered.

"I love you."

Access granted.

"Love ya too, honey."

"Hold me while I sleep?" Sara asked softly.

"Of course, beautiful."

"Big fan of pet names, aren't you, Griss?"

"No. Just seeing why people always use them. Never tried them actually. Never saw the point."

"I like beautiful and honey the best."

"You are, you know." Grissom said, sitting next to her on the bed. "You're beautiful." He began tracing her features.

"Thank-you." Sara says with a shy smile and shifted into a comfortable position. "No one's ever told me that before."

"Well, they were a bit short-sighted."

"I'm just glad that you convinced me to stay here."

"You really were serious weren't you?"

"No. I could never leave you."

"Me neither." And they both fell asleep.

Okay! I suck. This was written in one day, so it's a bit.. $&. I can never figure about how to end these stories. The characters apart from the CSI ones, as you have probably noticed are all either from JAG or X-files, I couldn't think! Now I think it's time to work on my other G/S fic, Decaffeinated Tarantula. Please R&R!! Both stories would be great! Storm