Disclaimer: Don't own CSI. Do I really have to spell it out?

Has anyone noticed that most coldplay songs sound exactly alike? I don't know what this has to do with anything, but seriously. Anyway why do you wan't to read this. Does anyone read this? I know I don't. I'm tired. Here you go. I slaved away over a keyboard for four hours. So you better like it or I sic my army of Star Wars pez dispensers on you.

Grissom was avoiding her. At first Sara thought it was her imagination until she saw him in the hall. When he'd looked up and seen her, he had darted into his office.

The sun was up now signaling that it was near the end of their shift. Sara was positive that Grissom was in his office so she quietly slipped in. Sure enough he was leaning back in his chair concentrating intensely on a case file.

Only when Sara got closer she recognized that the sheet of paper he was holding was the one on which she'd written her list of dreams. She was surprised he'd spend so much time on something that could be of little to no importance.

"Big Brother is watching." Sara gasped as Grissom swiveled to face her. "I'm not as unaware of my surroundings as you may like to believe."

Sara remained quiet.

"Did you need something?"

"A ride home." When Grissom gave her a blank look she explained, "I'm not supposed to operate heavy machinery or drive a car for a while, so I had Garcia give me a ride."

His brows tilted. "Do I want to know how you managed that one?"

"Probably not," she replied, smiling.

Grissom groaned, "Ok. Give me ten minutes."

"Meet you in the break room." And she was gone.

When Grissom found her she was lounging on a couch, flexing her hand and wrist without the air splint. He noticed the bruised areas of skin resembled a hand. A new wave of anger hit him like a fist to the chest. Someone hadn't wanted her to escape.

The guilt that he had tried to push away returned in full force. He wondered if she would forgive him if she knew the reason he left her alone; the conversation they had had earlier the night of her kidnapping.

He didn't want to think of it now, couldn't think of it now. "You ready to go?"

She wrapped her arm back up and rose to her feet. "Yep. Let's go bug guy."

If ever there was an awkward silence this was it. Grissom turned on the radio, but they didn't agree on what to listen to, so they just turned it off. The relatively short drive was made twice as long due to an accident. As soon as they got past it some jerk cut them off then went ten miles under the speed limit.

At last the guy turned off the main road and Sara's apartments were in sight. But when they got closer a group of squad cars filled the visitor parking lot. As they parked and got out, a uniformed officer approached them.

"You folks are going to have to move along." He spread his arms as if to make a human barricade.

"You don't understand. I live here." Sara was a couple inches taller than the officer and could easily see over his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Can't let you through."

Grissom flashed his credentials. "Look, we're with the crime lab. Can you at least tell us what happened?"

The officer slowly lowered his arms. "Well, one of the apartments had an explosion. Obviously not an accident."

Grissom's heart skipped a beat, and then began beating rapidly. When he looked at Sara, she had gone pale. She licked her lips and swallowed, but her voice still held a croak, "Was it number 182?"

The officer blinked, "Uh, yeah. How'd you know?"

"Just a guess." And as if her legs could no longer support her, Sara lowered herself to the curb, placing her head between her legs.

The officer spoke into his radio, "Timms, we got a woman over here about ready to pass-out. Could you send an EMT to check her?"

A confirmation quickly came back through the line. Grissom knelt beside her, touching her shoulder. "Are you okay, Sara?"

Her voice was muffled by her legs, "Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Just breathe." He gently rubbed her back until the EMT came over with his kit and checked all her vital signs. The man, Frank he said his name was, said she was fine, but to just rest for a minute, then gave her some ibuprofen.

When the wave of nausea passed, Sara stood, Grissom held her arm for support.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to make a statement, then I can let you go."

She nodded, following him to his car. Grissom followed closely by her side.

A half hour later they were back in the SUV. Sara still hadn't gained back any of the color in her face. "I need to call my insurance people." She hit her forehead, "Shit, I don't have any, except for my car. Now all my stuff is gone." Sadly she remembered that wasn't much. "I need to find a new place to live, all new clothes, furniture. Luckily I put my mother's necklace and all my other important items in a safety deposit box. I need somewhere to stay."

Grissom realized she was rambling and let her continue while he pulled out of the parking lot. Once the vehicle stopped again Sara stopped talking and looked around. They were parked outside his townhouse.

"What're we doing here?"

"You need a place to stay. You can rest, then we can go get your car after you've eaten."

Sara was too drained--- emotionally and mentally--- to disagree.