Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, but I'd love any one of them as a present. Mother's day is coming up soon, I wonder if Meghan has enough money saved up in her piggy bank to score me a CSI hunk?

Author's Notes: Thanks for the replies, I'm glad you're willing to bribe me. This may suck, I was going for 'deep', but then again, I've worked three days with only 4 hours of sleep, and now when I've got the perfect opportunity to grab a little shut eye, my sister keeps IM-ing me about her latest workplace drama. Speaking of workplace drama, I get to work in the ME's office starting Monday (except on the days I have class, then it's going to be back to the lab's guinea pig) and after the semester's over, I'm going to be working there full time. I don't know how to react to the promotion, as much as I'd love to deny it, autopsies give me the heebie jeebies. It is an 8 to 6 job though, on salary, so who am I to complain?

Anyway, the point of that ramble was to point out that I am sleepy, this was written with distractions from a hysterical younger sibling, I'm coming off of a 18 hour shift, and it's not quite what I planned on. Good news for anyone interested, the new turn I decided to take might mean a sequel to this sequel.

Here you go, the second to last chapter...I'm off to watch tonight's CSI.

Jenny

Nine:

Sara pulled into the parking lot of Greg's apartment building, spotting his car in the parking spot in front of his apartment. Whew, that was one worry down. Now all she had to do was make sure he was okay, inside of his apartment. He had probably just overslept...but she wanted to see him, just to be sure.

She didn't expect to find him passed out at the steering wheel of his car, drool running in a thin line from his mouth onto the black leather steering wheel cover, his hair messy, the same clothes he wore the day before still on his body.

She rapped quietly on the window, not getting an answer. Sighing, she pulled the handle and was shocked by the overpowering smell of alcohol that flooded her nostrils. Glancing to the passenger seat, she noticed the nearly finished bottle of whiskey.

She walked a few steps away, dialing Nick's number and waiting impatiently for him to answer.

"Stokes," Came his short greeting, "How is he?"

Sara glanced back at Greg, who still hadn't stirred, and was relieved to see him breathing normally. At least he was alive. "He's going to have a massive hangover, that's for sure. Can you see if someone can cover for me, I want to handle things here?"

"I'll see if Cath or Warrick can come in. I'll let you know. Hit him upside the head for me, will you?" Nick replied, worry and frustration evident in his voice, "Don't take too long, I don't want to get pulled into the middle of this if Grissom finds out and it hits the fan."

Sara told him she'd just be an hour or so, and proceeded to shove her phone into her pocket, shaking Greg's shoulder roughly, "Greg! Time to wake up, okay?"

"Go away." Greg mumbled, not even blinking open his eyes. A few seconds later, he was starting to snore.

Sara shook him again, this time following Nick's advice and giving him a hard smack against the back of his head, which pushed him further into the steering wheel, "Hey!" He shouted, wincing at his own voice, as he flew back, sitting straight and looking around wearily, "Where am I?"

"In your parking lot, silly," Sara said softly, having been on the receiving end of enough nasty hangovers to know to keep it quiet, "Lets get you inside and in bed, okay?"

Greg tried to focus on Sara, instead of the tiny dots that were clouding his vision, but was unable to do so. Was she really here, or was this some crazy alcohol induced dream? And if she was here, where was Nick? And why was it so dark outside? He swung his legs out of the vehicle, standing wobbly and accepting the assistance she offered. As soon as his body was vertical, however, he doubled over and vomited on the cement, holding the car door for support with one hand, Sara's arm with the other.

Sara groaned, trying to support the majority of his weight as he retched again, diverting her eyes and wishing she would have sent one of the guys to check on Greg. He had probably been drinking because of her, and the last thing he probably needed was to have her with him, right now, when he was vulnerable. She knew he had to be embarrassed, hell, she was embarrassed for him. She had made an ass out of herself in front of dates, and men she hoped she would date, before, and she knew how humiliating and awful it was.

"You done?" She asked after a few minutes, once the awful noises had stopped and his grip on her loosened a bit, "You okay?"

Greg nodded, his eyes halfway closed, as he shut his car door, slowly stumbling towards his apartment, "I'm okay, you can go."

"I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're alright." Sara insisted, a look of fierce determination on her face. Awkward or not, he was her best friend, and she wasn't going to leave him in this condition. She was tempted to call Nick and see if Warrick or Catherine could cover the whole shift, but thought better of it. They had been through a lot today as well, and it probably wouldn't go over too well with them or with Grissom.

Sara made sure he was comfortable on the couch, then went into the kitchen to get some Aspirin and a glass of water. She handed both to Greg, instructing him to drink as much of the water as he could tolerate, since it would help flush out the alcohol and ward off the hangover that was sure to follow that severe of a drinking binge.

"You know what works better than medicine and water?" Greg asked, a goofy smile still on his face, "A beer to chase the hangover away."

"You can't stay drunk forever," Sara said softly, sitting opposite of him and squeezing his hand, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Greg shrugged, diverting his eyes so she couldn't see the shame reflecting in them, "It's okay. You didn't hurt me...you didn't tell me anything I didn't need to hear. You can't control your feelings."

Sara remained silent for a few moments, hearing the slight tremble in Greg's voice and trying to think of the right thing to say, "No, I suppose I can't...but Greg, I didn't mean that I couldn't love you, or we couldn't be more than friends, I was just saying that right now I can't focus on a relationship." She squeezed his hand, "You know how crazy I am on a normal day, don't you? Could you imagine that all the time? At home, at work? Intensified by like a million?"

Despite the shame and sadness he felt, Greg felt a smile tug on his lips, "And when you're PMSing..."

"Exactly." Sara said with a soft laugh, "Greg, I don't want to do anything that could interfere with our friendship. I know we have a special relationship, we have had it for awhile, and you're the one person I always feel comfortable around," she paused with a wry smile, "Well, up until about 24 hours ago."

She took a deep breath, pulling him into a tight hug, "I can't imagine not being your friend right now, in ten years, in fifty years, and I'm worried that if we do take things to another level, and the relationship doesn't work out, we'll lose our friendship, and I don't think I could have made it through the last year without you and Cath, especially you though, I'd die without having you as my friend."

"What if it did work out, and we'd never know because you were too scared to take the risk?" Greg asked, sobering up with her words, "What if you threw away a chance for love because you were planning too far ahead. Sara, life is short, it can end at any time, you've got to live in the moment."

Sara shook her head, looking down at her hands, which had started to tremble, "Greg, this is what I'm talking about. I've got issues to work through before I can make any relationship successful. It's not just you, Greg, any relationship."

Greg looked as if he was going to retort with his own argument, but Sara cut him off, speaking again, "I'll make you a deal, okay? I'll work through my trust issues, and we'll go see a few movies. We'll see what happens, if a relationship blooms, I won't do anything to hinder it. If we decide to remain friends, I won't hold the relationship idea against you," She drew in a deep breath, her voice shaking, "That's all I can offer, Greg, I know it's not really what you want to hear, but it's all I've got."

"You never told me what happened when you were growing up, to make you like this." Greg said, gesturing a hand at Sara's trembling frame, "And I can only imagine, it must have been awful, whatever it was. But if that's all you have to offer me, I'll take anything I can get. Slow and steady, right?"

Sara nodded, furiously wiping away her tears, "I'm sorry I'm so screwed up."

"I'm sorry I make you this way." Greg replied, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest, "I'm sorry I didn't stay to talk last night, I'm sorry I drank 2/3 of a bottle of whiskey." He decided to leave out the part where he called twice and Nick answered the phone. Anything that would push her away at this point would definitely wait until a later day.

Sara shook her head sadly, "You didn't make me this way, I've been this way for 20 years. I just wish I could offer you more."

"I like you just the way you are, quirks and all." Greg quipped, tightening the hug and planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, "Not to change the subject, but aren't you supposed to be working?"

Sara pulled back and stared at him in surprise, she hadn't had a chance to tell him she was back on the team, her inquiry had been resolved. He motioned to her attire, which consisted of brown slacks, a beige top, and her LVPD vest, and she blushed slightly, "Apparently Gris didn't make you a CSI for no reason. They wrapped up the case last night, Nick came by to let me know, we were waiting on you tonight, but I'm guessing you're going to call in."

"I think I'd just be a risk tonight." Greg said with a half-smile, "I'm wiped, I should get to bed."

Sara nodded, handing him the glass of water he had placed on the table, "Finish this, I'll start some coffee, and you go take a nap. When you wake up, you'll have a hot cup of Blue Hawaiian waiting for you, and I'll come by in the morning to make sure you're okay. No more drinking, am I clear?"

"Crystal." Greg replied, shuffling into his bedroom, "Oh, and Sara?"

Sara turned around to stare at Greg from the entry to the kitchen, "Yeah?"

"When you bend over, I can see all the way down your shirt. Watch it with the officers tonight, okay?" Greg teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sara rolled her eyes, "It's a decomp, I'm sure not too many people will be hanging around the crime scene."

"Thank God I'm calling in sick." Greg groaned, his face paling considerably. "I hate decomps."

Sara nodded in understanding, "Believe me, we're on the same page with that."

Catherine turned the lamp off in Lindsey's room, blowing Lindsey a kiss and whispering 'good night' to the nearly sleeping girl.

"See you in the morning, Mommy." Lindsey said sleepily, "I love you."

Catherine leaned her head against the door frame, gazing tiredly at her daughter, "I love you too, sweetie, I'll be here to get you ready for school."

She closed the door and tiredly stumbled into her bedroom, falling backwards onto the bed and staring at the ceiling, "Where does she get the energy?"

"I think it's genetic, you've been awake for 30 hours, you know." Warrick pointed out, rolling her onto her stomach as he began to massage her back, "She was so thrilled to have you home, I think she was postponing bedtime as much as she could."

"I think working tonight would have been less exhausting." Catherine mumbled into her pillow, moaning softly as he came to a particularly tense spot in her back, "I forgot how hyper kids are."

Warrick chuckled softly, "I'd much rather be here with you, than stuck with Grissom somewhere. And I think we should head straight into bed."

"To sleep, or to do other things?"

"Definitely other things." Warrick grinned, "Burn off the last bit of energy we have, that way we know we'll have a good night's sleep."

Catherine grinned, despite her resolve to keep a straight face, and rolled onto her back, pulling him down for a kiss. Just as he started to fumble with the button on her pants, her cell phone started to ring.

She muttered a string of curse words as she answered with a short, "Willows."

"Catherine, it's Nick. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you've had a long day, but Sara needs your help." Nick said quickly, knowing that she'd be willing to help Sara, they had established a pretty strong bond over the last few months.

Catherine sat up, pushing Warrick's roaming hands away, "What's wrong with Sara?"

Nick sighed, "She and Greg had a fight last night, and he didn't show up for work tonight. She found him passed out, drunk, in his car and she's held up for a bit trying to get him situated. She's got a db at Lake Mead, and she's going to be tied up for at least a few hours. Think you could head over there and start on it for her?" He neglected telling her it was a decomp, he knew she'd refuse if she knew that bit of information.

"I really want to, Nick, but by the time I take a shower and get over there, she'll probably be on her way. Besides, it's just Warrick and I here with Lindsey, and we've all had a really rough day. I'll call Sara and apologize, but it's not a good idea. Does Grissom even know what you two are trying to do?" Nick's silence confirmed her answer, and she continued, "Look, you go ahead with your case, and I'll let Grissom know that Sara's going to be late at Lake Mead."

Nick thanked her and they hung up, Catherine groaning as Warrick ran his hand up her thigh, just as she was dialing Grissom's number. "Stop it, give me a few minutes," Catherine hissed, quieting as Grissom picked up, "Grissom."

"Gil, it's Catherine. I just wanted to give you a heads up, Sara stopped by Greg's apartment to check on him, and he's...er, sick...and she's getting him settled before heading out to her scene. She'll probably be an hour or so later than she was planning on getting there."

She hung up before Grissom had a chance to ask any questions or make any sort of comments, rolling over and pinning Warrick down on the bed, lowering her head for a deep kiss, "Now, where were we?"

Warrick had just pulled Catherine's shirt off and was working on her bra when there was a soft knock on the door, "Mommy? My ears hurt."

Catherine scrambled off of Warrick, tossing her shirt back on and throwing the covers over Warrick, who's jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, showing off his blue boxers, his chest bare. She hastily buttoned her own pants, opening the door with a look of concern, trying to conceal the lustful flush she knew still lingered on her face.

"What's Uncle Warrick still doing here?" Lindsey asked sleepily, "Mom, my ears hurt and my head hurts. Can I sleep in here with you?"

Sara arrived back at the lab, running straight into Nick, sending the items in both of their arms flying, mixed together on the floor.

"At least I'll be able to tell which ones are yours, you reek, girl." Nick said, making a face, "Decomp, alright."

"Bite me." Sara replied, sorting through the various papers and bags and scooping up hers, "No one asked you, anyway." She started to walk away, but turned back in Nick's direction, "Oh, and Nick? Brass has a few questions for you...you're familiar with a Travis Leblanc, right?"

Nick's face paled dramatically, and he steadied himself against the wall as the room dramatically shifted, "Why?"

"I thought so." Sara sighed, "I was really hoping it was a different Travis Leblanc."

"What...what does my sister's husband have to do with anything?" Nick asked, his voice trembling with worry and anger. It was no secret that he had wanted to fly to Dallas and kick that slimebag's ass after he had roughed up Karen a few months earlier. "Did my parents call? Karen?"

Sara shook her head sadly, "No, Nicky, Travis Leblanc was my decomp at Lake Mead."

Despite the anger and hatred he had bottled up against Travis for the last few months, he couldn't help but start to cry as he heard that his brother-in-law was dead, someone who had been in his life for years, part of his own family, as far as he had been concerned a year ago. What was more upsetting than his death was that no one had even told him Travis was missing, which could only mean one thing. The Stokes family was knee deep in whatever happened to the estranged in-law.

He accepted Sara's embrace, even though she smelled like death herself, sobbing onto her shoulder, anger, worry, and guilt all flooding through his body in the form of tears.

They stood in an embrace, in the middle of the hallway, for nearly 10 minutes, until Brass walked up to the pair and tapped Nick on the arm, "Come on, I need to have a word with you."

Flashing him a sympathetic smile, Sara offered to handle his paperwork and evidence for him, letting Nick know she'd be in autopsy if he needed anything.

Walking behind Brass with trembling hands, Nick learned what it felt like to be on the other side of the metal table.

I loved the bribes, keep them coming...