Issues by SLynn

Disclaimer: I own only the thoughts in my head and the characters you don't recognize.

Thanks to All: Miss-Andromache, Sandersgirl, white rose01, Duckie (A Bloom!), Em, pinkprincess6402, BlondeNeko, tabbi, Jen, GottaGetGreg, and fwe. I'm really enjoying everything you have to say and hopefully I'm not causing too much angst! I'm really trying to wind this story up, but at the rate I'm going it feels like its going to be 50 chapters! Okay, so maybe not, I'm thinking right now about 35, give or take a few. Happy reading and thanks again!

Chapter 26: Who Needs Sleep

Wednesday night Sara had stayed at home. She'd cleared it with Grissom, brought home the new drowning cases she'd found for to review and copies of the others. She hadn't felt right leaving Greg alone. Everyone else they knew, Nick and Amy included was working and just couldn't get away. She wasn't sure she could afford to now either, but really had no choice. Sara wouldn't have lasted the night because she'd have been too worried and distracted if he was home alone in his present state.

Greg hadn't argued it. After sleeping most of the day, he woke up with another pounding headache. His stomach was as sour as it had ever been and the only thing he could hold down was water, and then only in small sips. If he was being honest, he'd of probably asked Sara to stay if she hadn't already made the plans to do so.

They'd sat for most of the night side by side on the couch going over the files. They had most of the police records there, the only thing missing was the complete list of interviewees, but it was enough. The most interesting thing they'd found was that their homeless guy, Kyle Peterson. It turns out he'd been on Dr. Spencer's payroll for a number of years doing mostly odd jobs at irregular intervals. That only left Angie and Evan Jacobsen and their second drowning victim, Jason Smith, unconnected to the clinic. It was what they'd always guessed; somehow the clinic seemed to be involved in the choosing of victims. Now it was a question of how.

Greg, his head no longer able to take the strain of reading, called it an early night. He showered, shaved and was in bed before nine. Sara continued to pour through the evidence until well past one in the morning before joining him. Greg wasn't exactly resting comfortably. He'd kicked off most of the blankets by that point and was sweating. He looked like he was struggling in his dreams.

Careful not to wake him, she climbed into bed and drifted off without another thought. The stress of the day had finally been too much.

A few hours before sunrise and Greg was up.

He made his way to the kitchen feeling starved. He reasoned that it was a good thing, he hadn't eaten real food in days, but worried he still wouldn't be able to keep it down, hungry or not.

Finding nothing that qualified as light and a breakfast food, he opted for tomato soup. True, it was only four in the morning, but he'd eaten stranger things at weirder hours then this.

Greg took the first few sips tentatively, testing it out, but that didn't last. His hands were almost shaking now from lack of food. Knowing he'd probably regret it one way or another, he practically gulped it down in one breath. He hadn't even sat down, just drank it over the sink. Grabbing a glass of water next, he proceeded to swallow that too in one huge gulp. Rinsing the dishes off in the sink, he stood and waited and after a reasonable amount of time figured he was okay. Still hungry, but not willing to tempt fate, Greg got another glass of water and headed into the living room.

Skimming back through the case files was how Sara found him around seven.

"Sleep well?" she asked, joining him on the couch, tucking her feet in underneath her as she sat.

"Not bad," he answered truthfully. He'd felt better now that he had some food in him. "Hey, are we sure that Angie Jacobsen didn't go to that clinic?"

"It's not in the file."

"Yeah but," Greg said, picking up the interview transcripts he'd just put down, "Look. When they talked to her neighbor it was mentioned that she thought that she was getting some help."

"Help for what? That's not a lot to go on."

"I know. They didn't ask any follow ups, just took it at face value." Greg said, somewhat peeved.

"How long have you been up?" Sara asked, taking a good look at him.

"A few hours," he responded.

"You look better. Color's back."

"I feel better. Even had breakfast."

"Good," she said with a smile, kissing him on the cheek before leaning a head onto his shoulder.

"Dr. Tracey wants me in for a cat scan on Monday."

"What?" she asked, looking up at him startled. The appointment had been nearly two days ago and she was just now hearing this?

"I know I should have said something sooner."

"Did she say why?"

"Something about my pupils. I think she thought I was doing drugs."

"Well, we've all thought that about you at one time or another."

Greg smiled at her, relieved she wasn't mad. If she was making jokes, she wasn't mad.

"It's probably nothing," he reasoned out loud.

Sara nodded, not smiling anymore. She was worried again but so glad he was telling her.

"Can I go with you?" she asked.

She had started to just tell him she was, but changed her mind. He'd been right about that, she was starting to make his decisions for him. To run his life and she didn't want him thinking that. Sara didn't want to do that.

"It's pretty boring," he started, "but if you want I don't see why not."

Greg was taken back that she'd even asked. Taken back, but not much. They'd never really talked through their argument from the other day and it looked like they didn't have to any more.

"Let's go back to bed," she suggested.

"I'm not really tired. I slept most of yesterday, remember?"

"Well," she said smiling as she stood and taking his hands, "maybe we won't sleep."

"Oh," he replied, standing up now, hands resting gently against her hips. An obscene smile plastered on his face. "Really? Sara Sidle, I didn't think you were that type of girl. The sun is not even up."

"If you're not up to it…" she started playfully, pulling him off towards the bedroom.

"No, no, no," he protested, "I'm feeling much better."

"Good," she said, stopping in the doorway to pull him into a long kiss.

"Much," he repeated.

Amy sat in the break room waiting for Nick. It was a quarter after nine and he still hadn't gotten back from his scene. Warrick and him had been called out late that night. Nick had been her ride in and out of work since she started back that Monday.

Yawning and desperate to just stay away, she took another cup of coffee and sat down.

"Still here?" she heard a familiar voice ask from the door.

"Hi Grissom," she said, feigning alertness. "I'm waiting on Nick. He drove me in."

Grissom nodded.

"They just called, shouldn't be too much longer."

It was Amy's turn to nod. She thought he would leave after that, but he hadn't. To her surprise he came into the break room and joined her at the table.

"I talked to Brass," he began, "he told me you'll be helping with the sting."

"Yeah," she answered, looking into her cup. "I kind of feel like if I didn't…"

She trailed off, not certain what she felt. Amy wanted to catch this guy. Not just for herself, so she could sleep at night without Nick or someone else nearby, but for the others. He'd already hurt so many people. If she didn't at least try, she didn't think she could live with herself. And let's face it, with his track record, she probably wouldn't live.

"You don't have to worry," Grissom tried to reassure. "Jim Brass is a good man. He'd never put you in harms way."

"I'm not worried. I trust him, I trust all of you. Everyone has been really great."

Grissom nodded.

He liked Amy. Grissom was aware that not everyone felt that way, that some of the other lab techs found her stand offish, but he'd never seen it. If anything, to him she just seemed quiet. She was good at her job, worked hard and was professional. Well, sometimes she strayed slightly off the professional path, owning almost entirely to what he saw as Greg's influence, but it made her more likable.

"Hey Griss," Nick called from the doorway. "Amy, I'll just be another ten minutes or so. Got to grab a shower first."

Grissom and Amy looked up at him. He was filthy.

"Take your time," Amy called and he smiled back at her before leaving. "Exactly where was their last scene?"

"Foothills," Grissom said with a smirk. He'd purposely staid back because of all the wet weather they'd had. "Makes for very muddy crime scenes."

Amy laughed.

"Have you considered what I suggested," Grissom began again, more serious this time.

"About counseling? Yes and I really don't think I need it. I'm really fine, shaken still but okay. I've got a lot of help. Like I said, everyone's been great."

Grissom noticed she'd glanced slightly towards where Nick had just retreated too as she'd said that.

"Alright then," he said taking her word for it. In all likelihood she was in good hands. He trusted Nick and knew that if he was watching her as closely as he thought Nick was, then she'd be fine.

Grissom said no more and left. Amy felt slightly relieved. She like Grissom, thought he was a great boss, but man was he intimidating.

Nick was back in less then ten minutes, hair still wet but ready to go.

"Where are we going?" he asked, once they'd gotten into his jeep.

"My place?" she asked more then answered.

"Okay," he agreed, "just let me stop and get some things."

They didn't even discuss it any more. Nick was going where ever she wanted, staying where ever she wanted until she said otherwise. Their relationship, if it could even be called that, was really nothing more then friendship. True, she really didn't sleep well unless he was beside her, but it was nothing more. Nick hadn't even so much as kissed her on the cheek.

They were at his house in no time.

Amy had been there several times that week. She'd marveled at how clean he kept it, despite never seeing him actually do anything to keep it in order. His refrigerator was hopeless. It mostly consisted of baking soda and really old cheese. All she could assume was that he must eat out a lot.

"So," he called from the next room as he'd pulled a few things together for that night. He knew he wouldn't be back for another day at least. "Get anything good today?"

"Oh no," she said, slumping onto his couch, so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. "No work talk. I'm done. You can just wait for the results of whatever semen, blood, DNA cocktail you sent to me to process until tonight."

She heard him laugh in the other room and as she did she shut her eyes.

"Amy?" he asked much closer now.

She opened her eyes to find him sitting down beside her.

"Was I sleeping?" she asked.

He just nodded, smiling at her.

"Sorry," she said trying to shake it off, "too many days off. I got use to sleeping at night again. I start dragging my feet around three now."

"We can stay here if you want," he offered.

Something about that was appealing and scary. It would be the smartest thing to do; after all they were here already. Nick looked tired too and he probably shouldn't be driving. But it was scary. It sounded stupid but she'd never slept in a man's bed with whom she hadn't been intimate with before. And it felt too intimate. Not that sleeping together in her bed wasn't, but at least there is was a kind of unwritten rule that she was in charge. Here would be different.

"I can sleep on the couch," he said as if reading her mind.

"No," she countered, blushing despite herself. "I wouldn't be able to sleep like that."

She had only meant that she couldn't sleep knowing she'd kicked him out of his own bed, but it had sounded like more. Amy, in the back of her mind, knew it did mean more. She just didn't want to press it.

"Come on," he said, taking he hand and leading her off to the back room.

Amy felt almost giddy. She couldn't help it, her heart was fluttering. It was such a schoolgirl feeling, such a schoolgirl crush she had on him, but she couldn't stop it. She almost felt drunk on that feeling, that high.

"I know nothing I have is going to fit you," he apologized.

"I'm okay in this," she said still feeling every bit as nervous and apprehensive without knowing why.

Mentally she kicked herself. They'd done this all week. It's just sleeping. It's just comfort. He was only trying to make her feel safe.

They both silently took off their shoes, it had become an inside joke between them, and as Nick closed the blinds; they lay down on top of the covers. Another unwritten rule. They never slept under the covers. That might be considered crossing a line.

"Goodnight," Amy said softly, looking into his eyes.

"Goodnight," he repeated, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand putting a smile on her face.

Amy closed her eyes but couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing. There were too many things to consider. Too many things to try not and think about. Like Nick, beside her. So sweet and caring. So obviously never going to fall for her. He was concerned, but nothing more.

Amy had never thought much about her own merits. She'd never had anything remotely considered luck when it came to men. And men like Nick didn't like girls like her. They liked women.

"Amy?" she heard him after several minutes. His voice was soft, quiet even. Not usual for Nick. It was as if he was just curious if she was still awake or not.

She opened her eyes but said nothing. She didn't have too.

Nick touched her again, caressed her cheek. Just looked into her eyes and decided it all upon her smiling back at him. It was time. Time to stop playing stupid games, pretending he didn't care the way he did.

Slowly, careful and deliberate, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. She didn't stop him, didn't move, didn't breathe. Just shut her eyes and took in the feeling of his lips on hers.

That morning nobody slept.