Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think, and be honest...not much N/S in this chapter, but it leads to the next one, where there will be tons of our favorite duo.

Chapter Two:

"I'll be there in 10 minutes, go ahead and go to work, just leave the door unlocked for me." Greg replied, rubbing his sleepy eyes as he slid on a pair of jeans, stumbling to his front door as he grabbed sunglasses and keys. He had worked on Sara's case until 11 am, when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and had gone to sleep just after noon. While 4 hours was an improvement, it definitely wasn't enough for him at the moment, but he couldn't leave his friend out in the cold. Maybe he'd be able to catch a few more minutes at Sara's.

True to his word, Greg walked into Sara's apartment 10 minutes later, shutting the door and creeping into her bedroom to check on her. She was curled into a ball on her side, her pale face drenched in sweat. Even though she was covered, he could see her trembling slightly from what seemed to be chills. Taking a washcloth Nick had left beside the bed, he wiped her face gently, gazing down on her in concern, he hated for anyone he loved to be sick, especially one of his best friends.

Her eyes sleepily opened, "Greg? Is that you?" She mumbled, almost incoherently, "Where's Nicky?"

"He had to go to work, you know Catherine's a slave driver to those boys." Greg said with a soft chuckle, "Looks like you're stuck with me. I'm going to call Grissom and let him know I'll be late tonight, and you won't be coming in. Nick and I figured we could take turns until you're feeling better."

Sara shook her head weakly, "I don't need a babysitter, Greg, I'm okay."

"You look like one of those bodies laid out on Doc's table." Greg replied bluntly, "Let us take care of you, that way you can get better and we can go back to being mean and teasing."

Sara gave him a soft smile, shutting her eyes again and murmuring "Thank you."

She had only been asleep for a few minutes when Greg's cell phone started to ring, "Sanders." He said, flipping it open.

"Greg, it's Grissom. Major case, I need you to meet us on Maple and Constitution. Everyone's on board, Swing's meeting us there as well."

"I'll be there in half an hour." Greg replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Another big case meant another long shift. Moments after he had hung up his cell, Sara's started to ring.

She opened her eyes, fumbling on her bedside table and bringing it to her ear, "Sidle." She croaked.

"Sara, you sound awful." Grissom said on the other end, "Are you unwell?"

"Unwell is a huge understatement." Sara replied, coughing loudly, "If you're calling me to come in, I really can't. I'd love to, but I can't."

"Sara, it's really important, I need you here. Just for a few hours, okay? As soon as we've got the scene under control, you can go back home and I'll let you take a whole week off." Grissom replied, sounding worried and apologetic, "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but this is a high profile case."

Sara moaned, "Gris, I'm running a fever, I've been puking my guts up, I can barely breath, I can barely stand. Are you sure you want me at your crime scene?"

"You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important." Grissom said again, "If you start to feel too bad, I'll send you home."

Sara moaned again, "Gris, I already feel too bad, just let me stay home. I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Grissom, you don't understand how sick she is." Greg said, taking the phone from Sara, "She's really bad off. She passed out this morning, she's running a fever of-" he paused, checking the digital thermometer's last reading, "103.6. She's not well enough to be working, she'll contaminate your evidence."

"It's not up for debate, I need you both in here, now." Grissom replied, still sounding apologetic, "Maple and Constitution."

Greg hung up Sara's phone, shaking his head at her, "He says we've got half an hour. Do you think you can hang with it for awhile?"

"Yeah." Sara whispered, standing and slowly walking to the closet, her body shaking with the effort it was taking to remain upright. "Can you go get me some water?"

"Sure." Greg replied, giving her a concerned glance as he walked out of her room. By the time he came back, she was on her knees in the bathroom, violently bringing up the medication and water she had ingested earlier, while Nick was still with her. Long after her body had run out of things to vomit, she continued to dry heave, her face pale and sweaty, her whole body trembling.

Greg looked down at his watch, cursing silently and picking up his cell, "Gris, Greg. We're going to be a little longer, Sara had to make a...well, a bathroom stop. Give us another 10 or 15, okay?"

They arrived at the scene nearly half an hour later, Greg walking next to a slow moving, yet determined Sara. He had to hand it to her, as weak and sick as she had been at home, she had put on her business attitude and was determined to make it through this case. That was the one thing he admired most about her, her inability to go down without a fight.

"Just take it slow." Greg told her softly as they walked up to the bustling scene, "Don't overdo it. You're still shaky, and that cold medicine can make your head fuzzy at times."

"I'm going to be such a liability tonight." Sara moaned, allowing Greg to take her kit from her, "With any luck, Grissom will see I'm not faking and he'll send me home."

"Sara, Greg, I'm glad you're here." Grissom said, falling in step with the duo, "Family of seven. Mother, father, paternal grandmother, 2 daughters, 2 sons. The youngest son, Patrick, age 9, is missing. The two daughters were found dead in their bedroom. Both were shot once, right between the eyes. The older son was found in the kitchen. Shot 3 times in the back. The mother, father, and grandmother were found in their bedrooms, stabbed to death. Sara, I want you working the doors and windows of the first floor, any signs of forced entry, any prints. We need to know if the younger boy was kidnaped or if he's a suspect. Greg, you're with me in the girls' bedroom."

Grissom stopped walking and turned to Sara, studying her face intently, "You look awful."

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed." Sara said hoarsely, her head throbbing. The lights from the police cars along with the general noise from the scene wasn't helping her headache in the least bit, and she was fairly certain that she had an ear infection, from the way Grissom and Greg's voices were sounding more and more muffled. She coughed weakly, not surprised that her chest was sore and achy, "After this, I can go home right?"

"As soon as we get the house processed and get the evidence back to the lab, you're free to go." Grissom responded, concern evident in his voice. It was very unusual for Sara to not want to work. Usually he was forcing her to go home, chastising her for overworking herself to the point of complete exhaustion. "If you don't think you can handle this, let me know and I'll see if Ecklie can send someone in."

Sara nodded, not even trying to hide her yawn as they walked into the house. The sooner she got her area taken care of, the sooner she could log in her evidence and go home. She wasn't going to allow Grissom to call in one of Ecklie's people, no matter how terrible she felt. She briefly shut her eyes, envisioning her warm bed and soft pillows. That moment couldn't come soon enough.

"I can't believe you called her in." Nick said, appearing in front of the trio, "Jesus, Grissom, look at her! I know this is a big deal, but with all of the overtime and extra days she puts in? The least you could do is give her a break when she needs it. What would it be? 1 vacation day out of the 10+ weeks she already has built up?"

Sara shook her head, her eyes pleading with Nick not to cause a scene, "Nick, it's alright, it's only for a little while. Don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine."

"Don't try to con me, sweetheart, because I've witnessed enough to say you aren't okay." Nick replied, his tone condescending. "I'm just saying that a manager should be more responsible, that's all."

Sara groaned, seeing Grissom's face contort in anger, "I may not be your supervisor anymore, Nick, but I still have seniority over you, and I still will not tolerate that tone being used with me. Do I need to report to your supervisor that you can't seem to be doing whatever it is she instructed you to do?"

"Both of you, stop this little pissing contest you are playing." Catherine spoke up, "Grissom, I've finished with the kitchen. Nick, you're supposed to be upstairs in the son's bedroom. Sara, after you're done with the possible entrances and exits, assist Warrick upstairs with the parents. I'll start working on the grandmother." She glanced at Grissom, "If that's okay with you, I mean."

"Your shift." Grissom responded, motioning for Greg to follow him upstairs. Greg cast a sympathetic look in Sara's direction and then followed Grissom up the staircase.

Nick reached out and touched Sara's cheek gently, "You going to be okay?"

"I'll live." Sara replied with a half-smile, "I was doing fine at the lab this morning."

"You passed out in the hallway." Nick corrected her, "That's far from fine. You should be at home, in bed, getting better."

"What you have isn't contagious, is it?" Catherine asked, shooting Nick a look that clearly told him to get back to the bedroom he was working on. "The last thing we need is the entire swing shift and graveyard shift being out sick."

"I don't think it is." Sara replied, irritation evident in her voice, "I'll stay clear of everyone though, just to be safe. It's not like I particularly wanted to be here anyway."

"That's a wonderful attitude." Catherine snapped, not knowing why she was in the mood to be difficult with Sara, but finding it hard to stop herself. After all the years of tension between the two of them, it flowed naturally. "If you don't like your job, maybe you should quit."

Sara's eyes narrowed, and she was about to reply with an equally snarky comment, but instead she began to cough, wheezing for breaths until she was able to control it, nearly 3 minutes later. The room started to spin, and she instinctively backed up against the wall, in case she found it hard to hold herself up. Dizziness and nausea filled her entire body, and she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, hoping Catherine would take the hint and leave. When she opened her eyes, she was disappointed to see the blonde staring at her with a hint of concern.

"You should be at home."

"Tell that to Grissom, Lord knows the rest of us have tried." Sara replied tiredly, "Let me get to work, I'm ready to call it quits already."

Catherine shook her head, rolling her eyes, "Don't contaminate any of the evidence."

"I think I'm a little more professional than that." Sara snapped, pushing herself off the wall and fighting dizziness as she walked to the back door, "Unless you're going to hover over me and watch for mistakes, I've got work to do."

Sara grabbed her fingerprinting brush and started working, while Catherine watched in silence, concern evident on her face. After a few seconds, she was convinced Sara would be okay, and headed back upstairs to finish processing her area and gather up what needed to go back to the lab. The least she could do was log in all of the evidence so everyone could jump start on processing when they finished at the scene.

Sara dusted the door frame and handle for fingerprints, and was relieved to find that her mind wasn't as fuzzy while she focused on work as it was when she was laying in bed, miserable, all day. She lifted the few prints she was able to find, then moved to the entrance on the other side of the house, near the laundry room.

She didn't find any prints on the door, so she woozily made her way back through the house and to the staircase. The burst of energy she had while starting her task had started to wear off, and she found her head and chest aching again, her body feeling like it was full of water, sloshing with every move she made. She hesitated by the stairs, remembering Catherine's order to help Warrick, but the idea of climbing the stairs sounded to tiring and unpleasant, that Sara considered re-printing the kitchen entrance.

She was on the 4th step when she started to cough, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and gasping for breath. Her chest felt like it was on fire, the burning sensation starting at the top of her stomach and not stopping until it reached the top of her head. She pulled a bottle of water out from her kit, taking a few small sips while trying to get her body to calm down. She continued up the stairs, a little weaker, but focused on getting her work done so she could get the hell out of there.

She walked into the master bedroom, her senses immediately tingling, the smell alone enough to make her want to rush back downstairs. The bodies hadn't started to rot yet, but the smell of blood was enough to make her head swim and her stomach reel. There was an overabundance of blood, it covered the bed, the two bodies, the walls, the carpeting, the lamp, every imaginable surface. The wife was on the far side of the room, her bloody hand print smeared on the window as if she had put her hand on it, then slid to the ground. The husband was near the closet, an empty gun case discarded on the floor.

Warrick looked up as she cleared her throat. "He was stabbed 36 times, she was stabbed 61. Two different knives, he looks more like a meat cleaver, hers looks like a switchblade."

Sara stared at Warrick, anything to avoid looking at the blood and bodies. His brow crinkled with concern, "You look awful, Sara, you should be at home in bed."

"I know." She said softly, breathing through her mouth and trying to steady her shaky body. "This place is a mess."

Warrick took a step towards her, careful not to step in any of the blood, a hard task in this case, "The husband was disemboweled. Still looking for those parts." He stopped as he watched her face pale even more than it already had been, and for a second he considered sending her outside. She looked like she was going to be sick, and while he knew she was always very professional, he wasn't worried about his crime scene as much as his friend, "You okay?"

Sara nodded, diverting her eyes to the ceiling, then back to the ground with a gasp and a gag. Composing herself, she muttered, "Found your organs."

Warrick looked towards the ceiling, shuddering as he spotted the husband's inner organs hanging from the ceiling fan, "What the hell?"

"I...I don't know. I need some air." Sara said quickly, moving towards the door with her knuckles pressed against her mouth. She stopped in the hallway, bending over with her hands on her knees, breathing deeply and trying to calm down. She wasn't some rookie, she could handle this. She was trained to handle this. Oh, she wanted to go home.

Warrick stepped out and walked towards her, putting his hand on her back, "You okay?"

"Next time Grissom calls me in when I tell him I'm sick, I'm going to quit. Next time Catherine assigns me to a blood bath, when she's not even my supervisor, I'm going to quit. Next time I let Greg talk me into riding together in one car, when I'll have to wait on him to go home, I'm going to quit." Sara muttered, inhaling deeply, and trying not to cough, because she knew that would start her gag reflex again.

Another wave of dizziness passed through her, her head pounding harder once it was finished. She backed up against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to breathe deeply. She was going to be okay, she could last a little longer. She had to, she was in front of Warrick, her whole team was here, everyone she would care about embarrassing herself in front of was in this house.

"Woah, there," Warrick said gently, watching her face pale even further than he could have imagined it ever being, "You want to go outside and sit down?"

"I'll be okay." Sara responded, slowly straightening and sighing heavily, "The sooner we finish processing, the sooner Grissom will okay me to go home."

"There's no way I'm letting you back in there, you shouldn't even be working," Warrick chastised, "Let me go talk to Cath or Grissom, and get permission for one of us to bring you home. You need to be in bed, not working a major case. You look like you're going to pass out."

"I feel like I'm going to pass out." Sara replied, shutting her eyes again as Warrick disappeared through another door.

A few minutes later, the hallway was filled with CSIs. Warrick and retrieved both Catherine and Grissom, who had been working with Nick and Greg, respectively, and now they were all standing in the hallway, quietly arguing.

"Oh, come on," Nick's angry voice said, "Just look at her! I'll drop her off and be back here before you even miss me. She shouldn't be here, plain and simple."

"Nick's right." Catherine pointed out, "Gil, she's in no condition to be working, she needs to see a doctor, and she's a liability to this case. It's not the time to be a jerk, okay?"

Grissom's eyes darted between Nick and Catherine, "This isn't about me being a jerk, it's about an important case that we need all the help we can get on. It's Sara, she's a dependable and thorough worker, even when she's not giving it her 100 percent. I trust her, and it's only for a few hours."

"The last thing anyone needs to be around when they've got the flu is a room filled with blood and people's innards strewn around!" Warrick interjected.

Greg's voice was quiet, but firm enough to stop the entire conversation, "This is great, guys, everyone being so open and caring, but what about what Sara wants? Has anyone asked her?" At everyone's silence, he smirked, "It would be a good start."

Grissom turned to Sara, who was still tiredly leaning against the wall, "I already told you what I wanted, yet I'm here, aren't I?" She spoke with a firm voice, yet her eyes were shut, her hands trembling slightly. "Go ahead, argue about me like I'm not even here."

"That's not what we're trying to do," Nick said, his voice sounding slightly hurt, "We're just worried about you, that's all. We care about you."

"I know." Sara replied, opening her eyes and pushing herself away from the wall, "Gris, I'll be fine until someone's ready to go home. I don't think I could drive myself, and I rode in with Greg."

"Can't I just drive her home?" Nick asked Catherine, for the fifth time that evening, receiving a stern glare from his supervisor.

Catherine broke her glare on Nick to turn to Grissom, "I'm going to drop some evidence off at the lab, I'll drop her at her apartment once I'm finished with that."

Grissom agreed, still looking unhappy that she was going to be leaving before their shift was over...to be fair, their shift hadn't even started yet...but one look at Sara and his face softened. Maybe he was just so used to her being available for work that he forgot that she was human too, and sometimes her body just couldn't handle it.

Nick stroked Sara's cheek gently, whispering, "I'll come check on you after shift."

"You don't have to do that." Sara replied, barely able to keep her eyes open through the blinding pain in her temples. She turned to look at him, drawing a deep breath when the pain suddenly went from her temples to the entire left side of her head.

Nick smiled at her, retorting, "I want to, stop being difficult."

"Come on, let's get out of here." Catherine interrupted, "I think we've got enough evidence here to warrant a trip back to the lab. They can bring back whatever else they process while we're gone."

Sara pushed herself off of the wall, preparing to follow Catherine, but instead fell to the floor, unconscious, a few steps away.

TBC