Disclaimer: These characters are the property of CBS, inc.

Spoiler: Unbearable.

I am still fired up. Thus comes chapter 2. I will not be able to keep up this pace as I have neglected too many things in an effort to keep previous stories updated. I will probably be able to post again in a couple of days or so. I will stay as consistent as possible.

I introduce Danny Taylor into this fic. It is an unconventional move, but I am feeling the need to go vigilante on Grissom. He is from Without a Trace. I am only recently familiar with that show, but am taken with his presence. He has a sort of gangly, bedhead, smoldering intensity, private but slightly goofy kind of guy who is a joy to watch on the screen. He tends to get overshadowed by the Jack/Sam/Martin dynamic so I left them back in New York giving each other meaningful looks. I think he can add something unsettling for Grissom and something soothing for Sara. Give him a shot. I think he's worth it.

Sheila

Afraid of The Light

Chapter 2

The man with Brass had sleepy eyes. Sara knew that he had just gotten off a red eye from New York and was probably exhausted, but there was something about the eyes that drew her in.

"Agent Taylor, Danny Taylor." His handshake was strong, and he gave her a slightly goofy smile, a lock of hair stood up on the back of his head.

"Agent…I mean, CSI Sidle or Sara. Just call me Sara." She did her best to match his grip.

"All right, so now we all know one another," growled Brass. "How are we going to go at him?"

"We've been tracking him three years. Four girls have gone missing that we think are linked to Corcoran. But we can only get so far. He's cool as a block of ice in the summer sun."

"A serial killer?"

Danny looked up to see a man with graying curls approach. Brass extended an arm. "Gil Grissom, Vegas Crime Lab, this is Agent Danny Taylor, FBI Missing Persons."

Grissom shook his hand. "What is Missing Persons doing on a serial murder case?"

Danny smile spread. "Ah, the sweet sound of jurisdictional suspicion. We have been tracking him because of the missing girls. My boss, Jack Malone, made the connections. We haven't gotten our profiler brothers and sisters to buy into him yet. They are not convinced of the connections."

"You have four missing girls?"

"They were missing. All recovered. All dead. Tortured. Cut. Strangled. Burned. We didn't start working on this until the 3rd girl. He kept her alive almost two weeks before he killed her. We recovered her within 48 hours of her death. The fourth one he kept for almost a month. After each girl, he moves away, starts a new life in a new city, and then 6-9 months later, another girl turns up missing."

"All of them teen-agers?"

"No. The first one was a woman in her late twenties. The fourth one was a woman in her early twenties. The rest have been under twenty."

"What ties them together other than the crime scene?"

"All of them had contact with him within a week of their disappearance. He doesn't try to hide it; is open about it, in fact. Nor does he try to explain it."

"Forensics?"

"Complete bust. We have never been able to match a fiber, a print, DNA, nothing."

"On the fifth girl." He turned his attention to Sara.

"Everything is at the lab. Greg put his white coat back on special for this case."

Grissom smiled. "Well, then it's good he brought his game to Vegas."

"Yeah, I am well aware of your reputation, Mr. Grissom. This is the fifth girl. He's done. I'm here to make sure." Danny's sleepy eyes belayed a surprising intensity.

"Have you interviewed him before?" Brass asked.

"Yeah. Once."

"What do you suggest?"

"You go in. Sara too. She is the only one that has a chance of getting him going. I want to watch it."

"What do you mean?" Grissom glared.

"She's his type. Pretty brunette. Looks like a young girl. It might rattle him."

"Nope. Let's move on to plan B."

Sara stared at Grissom, her mouth open. Brass put a hand on her arm. Danny observed the growing tension coolly.

"I'm going in." Sara locked stares with Grissom.

"A target. You think this is a good idea?"

"Well, you'll be right outside the door in case I need anything…you know, like if my shoe is untied or if I need somebody to blow my nose."

Brass stepped in and faced him. "Gil, I got her. He can't do anything to her."

Brass took her by the arm, and they moved over to the corner, and talked for a while.

Danny stood next to Grissom with an enigmatic smile tugging at one end of his mouth.

"We're ready." Brass announced and the two of them disappeared into the room.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

"Hello, Mr. Corcoran, my name is Captain Jim Brass, homicide, and this is Criminalist, Sara Sidle." He stopped his introductions and cocked his head. "So what do people call a guy named Hatfield anyway?"

Corcoran didn't move a muscle. Sara was transfixed by how pale his blue eyes were. "Hatfield is just fine. An old family name. Very proud to wear it."

"Hatfield, you seem to have a thing for killing girls, and you like to watch them suffer. Where I come from we consider this to be bad form."

Hatfield let one end of his mouth curl up slightly. Sara noted that his hands stayed relaxed on the table.

"Do you like it when they scream, Hatfield?" She locked eyes with him.

He stared at her intently and then sniffed the air. "You don't wear cologne, just plain body soap. No manicure. Your use of make-up is cursory. Your skin needs lotion. Your lips are dry and you are approximately 7 lbs. underweight for your height."

She blinked at his blunt assessment.

"All right, Hatfield. Enough of the Killer Eye for the Straight Girl. We have some questions for you." Brass tried to get his attention again.

Hatfield stayed transfixed on Sara. "You're a fighter. You challenge me with your eyes. Bright eyes. Intelligent. Intense. But soft, compassionate. Isn't hard to be so fierce and so sensitive all at the same time?"

Brass slammed his hand down on the table hard. Sara jumped. Hatfield merely turned his head toward Brass. "Sara can kick your ass any day of the week. I'd put my retirement on it."

Hatfield breathed in deeply. "Then why bother a small, weak man such as myself?"

Brass leaned forward. "Because most women aren't prepared for a ruthless animal walking around in polyester with a pocket protector. You're dead. I see it in your eyes. You live to harm and nothing more."

His mouth curled up again. "And I can promise you 34 more tax relief than the average accountant."

"Tell me about them." Sara caught his attention again. "Why them? Were they rude to you? Did you like their hair? I'm curious."

"You have a lot of spirit, Sara. And demons. I sense that demons are strong in you."

"Stop it!" Sara was on her feet. "I am a person not a specimen!"

"Your eyes dance when you are angry. What do they do when you are terrified?"

"Okay, Sparky, that's enough!" Brass had the man by the collar now, his hands trembling as he fought against smashing the mild face into the table. Hatfield hung limp in his grip. "Clearly, you are no company for women."

The man spoke quietly. "I only talk if she's here."

Sara dropped back into her chair. "Then talk, Hatfield. I'm ready."

Brass lowered him back into his chair. "You question me, and then I question you. Fair deal."

Sara shook her head. "Hatfield, I'm simple people. You're not going to find anything of interest in me."

"You're driven to do this work. Just as I am driven to do…other things. I think we could learn so much from one another."

"Why did you hurt those girls?"

"Where did you grow up? Tell me about your family."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You get her out of there or I do." Grissom hissed at Taylor.

Danny turned his head slightly. "He didn't say more than two words in the three interviews that Malone did with him. She seems fine to me."

"I don't know where you come from, but here we don't use our people as bait."

"Hey, this is your house. Why aren't you breaking up the interview?" Danny gazed at Grissom out of the corner of his eye. "Is it because Sara with the flashing eyes would eviscerate you? Have no idea what you did, Brother, but she's got your number."

Grissom narrowed his eyes at Taylor. "This is my house, Taylor. Remember that."

……………………………………………………………………………………….

"You don't like to talk about your family. Why? You're not protecting them or I would feel a sense of defiance in you."

"Give me something first, Hatfield."

"I like girls who are naked to my eye."

"Nude?"

"No. Naked, Sara. Fearless, brilliant, hurting. Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up, Hatfield."

"Tell me why your eyes dull when I ask about your family? Then I'll tell you something."

"My family is none of your—"

"Pinky swear, Sara."

Sara closed her eyes and began. "My mother killed my father when I was thirteen. I spent the rest of my childhood in foster care. I have no family. Can we please move on?"

"Lonely is the word that was missing for me. Thanks for illuminating me, Sara."

"Pinky swear, Hatfield."

"I like it when girls beg me for things. I like it when they submit."

"Is this a confession?"

"Of my sexual proclivities certainly."

"Did you kill Mary Ann Windom, Geneva Austin, Frederika Bing, Laticia Fairmont, and Ruth Lake?"

Hatfield stroked his chin eerily reminiscent of Grissom but without the beard. "Personally, I think they killed themselves. It would certainly explain your lack of viable suspects."

Sara slapped the table. "We had a deal!"

"Sara, I can't tell you what I don't know." He shook his head at her as if she was a recalcitrant child.

"Okay, Hatfield. That's enough for one day. Why don't we return you to that nice cell downstairs." Brass reached over and pulled Corcoran to his feet. He pushed him to the door with enough force to make Corcoran stumble. Corcoran stopped, straightened himself, and allowed Brass to cuff his hands. Then he calmly followed the deputy down the hall.

Sara sat down and dropped her face into her hands. Brass sat down beside her. Without looking up, she could sense Grissom's presence. He sat on the other side of her.

"It was a bust." She said into her hands.

"Hey, Sara," Danny said. "Look at me."

She raised her tired face.

"You did something. Please know that. We haven't even gotten a full sentence out of him in three interviews. It's a start."

"He looked at me like I was a butterfly pinned to an exhibit board. I don't think he ever saw me as a person."

"He's a bad one. And you did good." Brass pushed himself to his feet. "What day is it?"

"I don't think we've slept in…I don't remember how long. It's Tuesday, I think."

"You go home. I'll work the evidence." Grissom urged them both to their feet.

"Got a hotel, Danny?"

"Nope. Got any recommendations?"

"I know a guy at the Sands. Give him my card. Tell him Jim sent you."

Danny sauntered off after Brass.

Grissom caught her arm. "Sara."

"Grissom, I don't want to talk. Just let me go."

"I want to fix this."

"It's too late." Sara pulled her arm away and headed for the door.

"I didn't want to hurt you. You have always been such a risk. So intense. So much heart. It scares me. Sofia is—"

"Stop!" She spun around at the doorway and spat words. "You have no right. You chose. I found out about it. So now I choose. And if you care about me like you say you do, then you will thank God that I am finally awake to the reality that is you."

She turned and almost ran into Danny Taylor.

"Hey! Sorry to bug you, but Brass thought maybe…well, I didn't rent a car and he's on the phone with the sheriff, and you live a few miles past the Sands…And I can see that I caught you at a bad time."

Sara rubbed at her red eyes. "You want a ride, Danny? I'd be happy to take you."

"You're in the middle of something—"

She grabbed the bag he left on the floor beside his feet. "Are you coming?" She glared at him for a moment and then marched down the hallway, his bag in tow. Danny raised his brows and then bounded after her.

Grissom leaned against the wall rubbing his forehead, trying to keep a migraine at bay.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

He worked intently on the fiber analysis from the sweater of the last victim. They were tiny, and he suspected that they would be inconclusive. Still he worked meticulously on it, careful to catalog everything. He knew that this was the only thing she would accept from him. The migraine beat dully against the back of his head.he didn't medicate so that he would stay sharp, but the constant throbbingwas taking its toll.

A shadow passed over his hands and he smelled her perfume, a light, floral scent reminding him of lavender. Her blonde hair brushed his neck lightly as she leaned over his shoulder. "I thought I would check on you."

He stiffened slightly. "I'm working a case."

"I see." She moved past him and perched on the table beside him. "Can I help?"

"No." He said perfunctorily.

"Will I see you tonight?" The hair again, falling against her face like a silk screen. It was as soft as he had always imagined it to be.

"I don't think I'll be leaving here tonight. Big case." He returned his attention to the fabric of the sweater.

She pushed off the table. "Okay. See you later."

"Sofia." He stopped what he was doing and put down his tweezers. "Did you answer my cell phone when Sara called last Friday?"

She smiled. "I thought it might be an emergency from the lab."

"Really. You couldn't wait until I returned from the newsstand."

"Sorry."

"You saw Sara's name before you picked it up, didn't you?"

She considered his question. "Yes, I did."

"And you answered it anyway."

She nodded. "You weren't even out of the office two hours and she calls you. I knew it would piss her off to have me answer the phone. I also knew that your phone would stay quiet after that."

"I thought you understood how important my privacy is to me." He took off his glasses and faced her with the full intensity of an icy blue stare.

"I don't hide my life, Gil." She pulled her hair back and flipped it over one shoulder. "Besides, she's a big girl now. You have coddled her past the point of ridiculous."

"I didn't want her hurt."

"She can stand on her own two feet. The two of you have this bizarre symbiotic relationship that is horribly dysfunctional. She wants you, and you clearly don't want her, and this leaves you both frustrated. I end up being the new girlfriend trying to elbow her way past Sara to get a little of your time, and that doesn't work for me."

He raised a finger and pointed it at her. "Do not ever interfere with my relationship with Sara again. Do you understand?"

She stared back at him, shook her head, and then walked away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

TBC