Privacy by SLynn

Disclaimer: It's all mine, because yeah, this is what I'd do with my free time if I actually owned these characters.

Chapter 12: Leave

Sara was supposed to have Friday night off but because of Nick and Greg's suspensions, she'd been called in to work. Greg had wanted to go with her but she wouldn't hear of it. He only relented when she agreed to bring him back files or some kind of constructive work to do the next night. True to form, he'd only slept once she'd been beside him.

Friday night had been a long one for him. He finished all of their unpacking and rearranged the shelves in the kitchen and that was all before Sara had even left.

Frustrated he sat down to write some and was glad to see he'd killed an hour in the process. After he'd finished he did some more research on the blowfish from his computer and called Warrick to see if there was anything he could do and possibly get an update.

Warrick had been glad to hear from him, had told him about the two restaurants in town that actually served the stuff. Interestingly enough, one of the restaurants was owned by none other then Jason Warner, the disinherited son. They'd also conducted a second interview with the nanny and she'd been uncharacteristically nervous. Warrick suspected she might have been paid off to help the son exact revenge.

Having hung up with Warrick, Greg still had nothing to do.

Turning the lights off in the house, he settled onto the couch and flipped to the most boring channel he could find, QVC. It must have worked because when he'd sat down it was just before two and the next time he'd raised his head it was nearly three-thirty. Not that sleep was on his mind anymore.

Greg had woken up because he'd heard something coming from the back of the house.

Without turning off the television and as quietly as he could he got the spare flashlight out of the kitchen. At best he thought maybe the light would scare whoever it was and at worst mag-lites were heavy enough to do some damage. But there was no doubt in his mind that some one was back there. This time it wasn't some paranoid dream.

The first room he came across was his. Looking into it briefly, he saw that his computer was still on and that everything else was virtually untouched. He went next to the spare bathroom, which was still completely bare and then to the spare room where Sara's bed resided. It too was empty.

The last room was theirs. In it was the master bath as well. Greg pushed the door open slowly, light shining on the floor and looked across the room. They had a door in their room that led to the patio out back. It was still shut but when he scanned the windows, one was open. Wide open.

It was really the last thing he'd remember before waking up on the floor.

Head absolutely pounding, Greg picked himself up off the floor, flashlight still clutched in his hand. From where he was he could see the front door wide open and he was more then confused. Absentmindedly he dropped the flashlight to rub his head, feeling a nice bump forming beneath his fingers. Using the wall for support, he made his way to the front room.

Greg got to the kitchen and took the phone off the wall. As he did it he glanced at the clock. It was now nearly five. He didn't bother with 911; Greg knew the police dispatch number by heart. Even if he hadn't, it was on speed dial.

"Hey Carrie," he said into the phone, recognizing the night operator. "This is Sanders from the lab. I think someone broke into my house."

She didn't bother with the details, just patched him through to Brass. Brass told him he had some cars on the way and tried to get some details out of Greg in the mean time. He wasn't much help. His head hurt so bad he thought he might throw up. He was still on the phone with Jim when Officer Jensen arrived.

"Greg?" he called from the door, he even had his gun out. Officer Eric Jensen and he had actually become pretty good friends after the whole junk yard incident a while back. He was an alright guy, he'd just been new then.

"I'm in the kitchen man," he said, forgetting Brass was still on phone and just setting it down.

Jensen didn't holster his gun yet.

"Peters is checking around back. What happened?"

"I was sleeping on the couch and heard a noise. Went to check it out and woke up on the floor."

"What time did you hear the noise?"

"After three."

Jensen nodded and after a call on his radio from Peters he put his gun away. Stepping over to Greg now he turned on the lights.

"Jesus Greg," he uttered hurrying to him and grabbing the nearest dish towel. "You're bleeding."

"What?" Greg asked, looking at his hand and realizing it was covered in blood. He was too confused to do anything more. He took the offered towel and pressed it to the back of his head.

"I need an ambulance on scene," Jensen was already calling into his radio.

"It's a scratch; I don't need an ambulance."

"Yeah and if I don't call one for you Sidle's going to track me down and rip me a new one in front of the whole department. No thank you."

Greg managed a chuckle.

"See anything missing?" Jensen asked, more to keep him talking then anything else.

"I wasn't really looking for anything other then the phone," Greg answered.

"Hey," Officer Peters said joining them in the kitchen, "back door was wide open. So was the gate. Looks like there's fresh tire tracks. Whoever it was took off in a hurry. How are you doing Greg?"

"Good Stan, just bleeding in my kitchen."

Stan laughed at this, knowing Greg couldn't be too bad off if he was joking.

The paramedics arrived not long after and walked him to the ambulance to check him over and stitch him up. That's where he was when Brass arrived with Sara. Grissom and Catherine weren't far behind them but headed off straight into the house.

Sara said nothing, just got in the ambulance and sat down beside him. She was terrified. Had been terrified since Brass showed up at the lab and started a conversation with 'Now Sara, there's nothing to worry about…' There was always something to worry about when conversations started that way.

"It's a scratch," Greg said to her, taking hold of her hands in his.

Sara still didn't say anything, didn't trust herself too. If she did she'd probably cry. She just kept looking down and squeezed his hands in response.

"I think you'll be fine," the EMT who had stitched it up said. "You don't have a concussion, I just suggest going to your regular physician no later then Monday. That and take plenty of Motrin."

All they did after that was to give him an ice pack before sending him on his way.

"See," Greg managed a smile at Sara before thanking the guy.

"What happened?" Brass asked as he and Sara both stepped out of the vehicle.

"It's like I told Jensen, I fell asleep on the couch, I heard a noise after three, went to look and next thing I know I'm calling you."

"No details, nothing specific you remember?"

"Yeah actually, our back window was open."

"That's not right," Sara added, finally finding her voice. "We never open that."

"I know," Greg continued, "but that's all I've got. Sorry."

"I'll pass it on to Grissom," Brass said, "why don't you two get out of here. Go get some sleep. Do you have somewhere you can crash at?"

"Nick's place," Sara offered, "I called him before we left the lab."

"Do you need anything out of the house?" Brass asked.

"A new shirt would be nice," Greg said as the one he had on was fairly soaked in blood around the collar.

"Give me a second," Brass said before walking off, "He'll probably want that one anyway."

Sure enough, Grissom came out of the house with him a minute later carrying not only a clean shirt but a jacket and shoes for Greg. He hadn't even realized he was in his socks until then.

Grissom handed the clothes off to Sara before producing an evidence bag and indicating what he needed.

"Here," Greg said pulling the shirt off to which Grissom smiled as he'd tried handing it to him.

"In the bag please."

Greg nodded his head and with a grin of his own as he put it inside and Sara handed him the clean one.

"Brass says that you found the back window open?"

"Yeah," Greg nodded. "Just before."

"What about the door?"

"Closed, definitely closed."

"That's funny, because it's now the exact opposite."

Greg concentrated for a moment, really thought about it but he was positive.

"No, the window was open and the door was shut last time I saw them."

"Good," Grissom finished. "If I have any questions I know where to find you."

Greg thanked him and sat on the curb to put on his shoes. Without waiting for anything more, Sara was soon driving them both towards Nick's place.

He was waiting, practically pacing the floor when they arrived.

"Sorry about this," Greg said as he ushered them in.

"No, don't be. It's no problem. What the hell happened?"

"Break in I guess," Greg answered. Sara, although more talkative then before, was still relatively silent. "They must have thought no one was home, I had most of the lights off."

"Can I get you guys something?" Nick asked really concerned. Greg looked okay, just tired but he'd never seen Sara look worse.

"No I'm fine," Greg said, "I just want to lie down if you don't mind. Sara?"

"I'm good."

"I made up the guest room, but you guys can take mine if you want."

"We're not taking your room Nick," Greg argued. "We'll be fine in the spare. Its bad enough we're bursting in on you at this time of night or day actually."

"Any time, really. Don't even think about it," Nick said so genuinely Greg couldn't help but be reminded how good of a friend he had.

He showed them to the room even though they both knew the way before leaving them alone figuring they needed the time to regroup. Sara sure looked like she did.

"You okay?" Greg asked once they were alone. The sun was up now so it felt strangely familiar to be getting ready for bed. The only difference was it wasn't their bed.

"God I was so scared," she said wrapping her arms around him in the space of a breath and pulling him close.

"I'm fine, really."

"You have got to stop doing this," she said a second later, angry even. Pulling away and actually hitting him across the chest.

"It's not like I'm doing this on purpose," he replied, amused at her outburst.

"I know it," she continued, calmer now. Back in his arms.

Greg kissed the top of her forehead and tried to say something reassuring. Something funny but nothing came to mind.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered nearly into his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"Ever?" she asked.

"Where would I go?"

"I'm serious Greg."

"I can't say forever Sara, it's not possible," he continued on but sincere now. "I can say that I will never voluntarily leave you. Ever. I love you and I really wouldn't know where to go."

Sara looked in his eyes and smiled.

"I'll take that."