Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, I only own the original characters to appear in this, previous, and following chapters.

Spoilers: Grave Danger. Nicky managed to work his way into this chapter and the rest of the story quite a bit. I'm still trying to figure out how he got into my story! LOL.

Pairing: Sandle

Rating: T+ for miniscule amounts of coarse language.


Grissom slowly advanced on Greg, reaching out his hand, as much in a gesture of support as an effort to take the gun. Suddenly the door swung open, and Nick sauntered in with a pile of papers. "Hey, Griss. Hey, Greg. Am I interr-"

Greg, startled, swung around quickly, bringing the gun to bear on Nick. "Whoa there!" Nick jumped back a step and held up a hand. "What's goin' on, man?" Nick asked in confusion.

"Nick, you're not…supposed to be here…Get out!" Greg gestured for Nick to leave with the trembling gun.

Grissom took another step forward. Greg swung back around, once again bringing the gun to bear on Grissom.

Nick didn't understand the situation, but still he did sense the danger Grissom was in. He quickly tried to get Greg's attention on anything else but Grissom, quietly walking forward until he was at Greg's side. He laid his hand softly on Greg's shoulder. "Come on, Greggo. This is not like you." He gently pulled Greg around to face him. He'd never seen Greg like this. Ever. Trembling, sobbing, emotionally wrecked. It brought back powerful memories of his own. Memories of his own fragile emotional state when he'd been buried in a box underground. Memories of when he had almost been the one to pull the trigger.

"Greg, I don't know why you're doing this, but I know exactly how you're feeling right now. But I couldn't pull that trigger, and neither can you. Whatever it is, you have all of us here with you to help you work it out." Nick struggled against tears for a moment, and then just let them fall freely. "We all love you, Greg. And we'll all stick together to protect you, no matter what. You've been like a little brother to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Do you understand that?" He gently laid his hand over Greg's on the gun. "Please, just let it go, Greg." The gun dropped from Greg's rigid, trembling hand, clattering to the floor with a cold, heavy, empty metallic sound.

With that over, Greg's body, which had been under immense stress, gave out, and his knees buckled. The strong Texan was there instantly, catching him and gently lowering him to a sitting position on the ground. He knelt next to Greg and slid the gun across the floor to Grissom, who picked it up and quickly removed the clip.

Nick, kneeling next to Greg, pulled his sobbing friend's head to his shoulder and just let Greg cry there. "It's ok, Greg. I'm here for you." He put his arms around Greg's shaking shoulders and just held him in silent support. He looked around at Grissom for an explanation. "What's going on, Griss?" he asked quietly, a hitch in his voice. "I've never seen him like this before."

Grissom squatted next to Nick and spoke quietly into the Texan's ear. "Sara has been kidnapped-"

"Oh my God!" Nick interjected. "Is she ok…who would…"

"She was kidnapped by someone who wants me dead," Grissom finished, "I imagine that Greg was told that it was me or her. He didn't think he had a choice."


It was many minutes later when Greg finally began to calm down and catch his breath. Nick just sat quietly, not pressuring him, just offering him silent support. Greg finally drew in a shuddering breath. He turned and faced Grissom. "I'm so sorry, Grissom," he said, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion, "but he told he would kill Sara unless I did what he asked, and I didn't know what else to do. And now she's going to die." His eyes began to cloud with tears again, and he struggled to compose himself. Nick gripped his shoulder tightly.

"Greg, I need to know everything," Grissom said. "Anything you can tell me would help. We need to find Sara before…before anything bad happens. I know this man Slater, and the second he knew that I was dead, he would have killed her. So anything you can give us that would help us locate him would be crucial."

Greg indicated the gun that lay on Grissom's desk. "He sent that to me in a sealed evidence bag." Then he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket. "He had this delivered to me so I couldn't trace his calls. He said it was an untraceable line."

Grissom took the cell phone and looked it over. "Well, what he says and what is actually the case may be two different things altogether. I'm going to have Archie take a look at this."

"I'll help," Greg said, beginning to rise from his sitting position on the ground unsteadily, lurching off balance. "Whoa there, G," Nick said, quickly helping his friend up, steadying him.

Greg addressed Grissom. "I'll run trace on the phone, the gun, and the packaging," he offered. "Let me swab the phone before you give it to Archie, Grissom. There may be something on these things that could lead us to where he's keeping her."

"Greg, I'm not so sure that it's a good idea for you to do the lab work," Grissom said gently, "you've been through a lot, and I can imagine that your stress levels are through the roof. When people are stressed, they make mistakes."

"Well, I don't trust Hodges with this and I'll get it done a lot faster that he will. I'm not going to make any mistakes," Greg said with determination. "He…he said that unless your murder was all over the morning news, he was going to kill her." He gave an involuntary shudder. "We have until 5 am."

"Well, then we need to find a way for you to murder me," Grissom said, "and we need to do it soon."

"I know a guy who works over at the FBI, Las Vegas Field Division," Nick volunteered, "I'll make a couple calls and see if I can get his team down here for this. This falls under their jurisdiction anyway, since it's a kidnapping."

"We don't have a minute to waste, Nicky," Grissom said, "we need to find her and find her fast."

"I'm on it, Griss," Nick said, pulling out his cell phone and heading out the door.


1:04 am.

Greg set several items down on the counter in the trace lab. The cell phone, the gun, the gun's ammunition clip, the evidence bag, and the bubble wrap mailer. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves and began going over the evidence. He picked up the cell phone and dusted for prints, lifting off a few that he hoped were not all his.

"What's going on here?" Greg recognized Hodges' voice.

"I'm going over some evidence for trace," Greg said shortly.

"Excuse me, but if there's trace evidence to run around here, I will do it. This is my lab." Hodges sounded outraged. When Greg ignored him, he grew angry and reached over Greg's shoulder, grabbing the cell phone. "You don't even have this stuff logged in evidence bags," he said, gesturing with the phone. "What kind of CSI are you-"

Hodges' rant was cut off in mid sentence as Greg whirled angrily to face him, grabbing by the front of his shirt and lifting the shorter man a few inches off the ground.

"This is my evidence in my case, and I will be the one to run it. If you so much as breathe on it again without my permission, I'll throw you out of this lab headfirst. Do you understand?" Greg growled angrily.

The look of shock and fear on Hodges' face was answer enough. If Greg had not been angry enough to spit, he probably would have enjoyed Hodges' discomfort more.

"Greg, put the man down," Grissom said from the doorway, fighting an urge to laugh. Greg obediently eased Hodges back down to the ground, grabbing the cell phone from the man's gloved hand. Stumbling backwards, the trace technician backed away from Greg, regarding him with a new fear and respect.

"Did you just see what happened?" Hodges asked Grissom in outrage.

"Yes," Grissom replied mildly.

"And you're not going to do anything? Is there something in the water? He just physically assaulted me! Not to mention he's taking over my lab!"

"Hodges, this lab is Greg's as long as he needs it. Your trace samples can wait. This is far more important," Grissom explained patiently. "Go take a break."

Without answering, the angry Hodges stormed out of the lab.

"He seems a little angry. Did he seem mad to you?" Grissom asked, somewhat humorously.

"Just a little," Greg replied. "Just give me a minute to swab this phone, and it's all yours, Grissom." He began to swab the phone, and then paused for a moment, looking up at Grissom. "We've got about 4 hours. Do you think we'll find her in time, Grissom?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion.

Grissom looked at him for a moment before replying. "We're going to try like hell, Greg."


1:49 am.

"Hey, Griss, this is my buddy Mark Brady. He's with the FBI Las Vegas Field Division."

"Hello, Agent Brady," Grissom held out his hand, scrutinizing the field agent. Fairly young, but honest and responsible looking.

"Please, Mark is fine. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Grissom," the agent said, firmly shaking the proffered hand. "This is my team. Agent Patricks, Agent Ramon, and Agent Reuben. We're all at your service."

"I've given Mark the basics, but he needs to talk to Greg. Every detail counts," Nick said, ushering the group toward the trace lab.

"Greg, can we have a minute?"

Greg looked up from the computer. "Sure, Grissom. What is it?"

"Greg, this is Agent Brady from the FBI. He needs the hear the whole story."

So Greg began to tell the whole story, as painful as it was. He began with the phone call to his cell phone, told them about getting the two packages, showed them the picture that he'd been sent of Sara with a gun to her head. He recounted every bit of dialogue from the calls that he could remember. He told them about the command to kill Grissom. By the time he finished describing the second phone call, he was trembling with exhaustion that was both physical and emotional.

"So what did you do after that?" Agent Brady asked.

Grissom interrupted. "Greg brought this information straight to me. Isn't that right, Nick?"

Nick nodded firmly, corroborating Grissom. "Yep. That's right. I called you, and now you have the whole story."

Brady's eyes narrowed, and he turned to Nick. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Nick?" he asked.

"Sure," Nick said, as Mark accompanied him out into the hallway.

"Are you telling me everything in there? Because I'm kind of getting the feeling that a lot more went on here than you're letting on. I'm an investigator too, Nick, and I can tell when someone knows more than they're telling. You're hiding something."

"Mark, what you heard in there is exactly what happened," Nick said decisively. "And that's all I'm saying."

"Well, as long as whatever it is that happened isn't relevant to this investigation…"

"And it's not," Nick said, determined to protect his friend. "I give you my word."

"Ok, then. That's good enough for me, Nick." Mark clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it."

"Now, come on. We've got a lot to do and not much time. I've got an idea and it just may work…"

TBC


Lalaenna: So sorry for the cliffy! I understand your pain. I hope your day today is much better!

CSIwannabe: Now you know the rest of the story...or at least part of it, lol. Thanks for your faithful readership!

Duckie24: And here I thought that I had the corner on obsession! lol.

Surfrieda: Thanks for helping me out with that pesky plot bunny. Sometimes he just won't sit still!

sciencenerd: Why, thank you! I tried to dial down on the cliffy ending angle this chapter.

crookedpen: All that worrying for nothing! Griss is safe and sound!

LocoGreggo: Great minds do indeed think alike! How fun.

Jenn Sidle: Don't go crazy, Jenn! Here's your update, right here. I do hope that it came soon enough.

kegel: A new record for evilness, eh? Guess that takes me out of the running for that Nobel Peace Prize. My life is ruined! hehe.

NothingButSarah: There! Grissom is alive and well! But someone is still going to bite the dust...Muhahahaha!

Unlikely-to-bear-it: Sadly, yes. Never trust brothers. Just don't. (Chrissy chucks carrrot in the garbage and eats ice cream anyway...cuz who cares!) lol