Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. What their faces do.

This may be my last chapter for a couple of weeks. I have a ton of schoolwork to do. Maybe not that much, but still more than an hours worth. Plus my source into the Dallas Tactical Unit is going on vacation, so any questions about things I might have will go unanswered. And other things are getting in the way, i.e. softball, sleep, food, video games. You get the picture.

The Pericolo house, was once a lively place. Built in the late fifties by a lounge singer who wanted to be close to the city without actually living in it, the mansion was famous for parties that lasted days, sometimes weeks even.

But that was a long time ago. The house was now nothing more than a reminder of just how far money could go. What used to be a Garden of Eden was now nothing more than a desolate piece of desert with some sticks on top of it.

"Who owns this place?"

"The Las Vegas Historical Society. Currently they're trying to come up with the funds to restore it."

Greg frowned. "Las Vegas has a historical society?"

Sara shook her head and smiled. "Do they mind us poking around?"

Grissom pushed through the front iron gate. "As long as we don't break anything."

"I doubt there's anything left to break."

There weren't any street lights so only their flashlight illuminated their paths. Luckily the sun would be up soon.

When they got up to the porch Brass came out the front, holstering his gun. "It's all clear guys. Watch your step though. There's a lot of loose boards."

"Ok, then. Greg and Sofia take the outside. Sara and I will process inside."

As Sara and Grissom entered the house Sofia headed to the right shining her flashlight along the chipped stone path. Greg was close behind.

"So, uh, what exactly are we looking for?"

"Anything out of the ordinary for a house no one has lived in for thirty years."

When they reached the back of the house, Greg's light fell on a thorn bush with a cord running into the house. "What about that?"

They walked closer and what they could see through the branches was a portable power generator. Greg snapped a couple of pictures and moved on to the back porch. "Looks like somebody broke the lock to the back door." Only the eerie hush of the desert answered him. As he turned something hard connected with his temple and he dropped to the porch in an unconscious heap.

The man that held Sofia from behind growled into her ear, "Open the door." After she did what the man said he shoved her inside the kitchen and held the gun to her back. "Get Sara and Grissom in here."

She hesitated and the man pressed the gun more firmly into her back. "Sara! Grissom! Get in here! There's something I need to show you!"

"Good. Now sit." He pushed her down onto one of the wooden chairs along the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Keep your hands on the counter."

Soon footsteps were heard, and then Sara entered followed by Grissom. When they saw the man Grissom immediately held onto Sara's arm.

"Guzman."

"Grissom."

"Why are you doing this?"

"No. You don't get to ask questions. She knows what she did. And now because of her you all must pay." He cocked the gun and aimed it directly at Sara's heart. Sofia saw her chance.

Two shots rang out one directly after the other. Guzman fell to the floor, followed by Grissom. Sofia holstered her gun and spoke into her walkie-talkie. "Brass. We got a downed suspect and two CSI. The suspect and Grissom are in the kitchen. Greg is on the back porch."

"Ok. An ambulance is on the way."

Sara heard nothing of the exchange as she dropped to her knees next to Grissom. Blood was already soaking through his jacket. She removed her vest and placed it under his head. "Grissom, open your eyes and blink twice if you can hear me." When he did she used a small pocket knife to remove his shirt. The bullet had entered and exited through the shoulder. She applied pressure then turned her head to Sofia who was watching a couple feet away. "See if anyone has any ice."

While Sofia searched for the ice Sara put her full attention back on Grissom. "Can you sit up?" He nodded. She helped him to lean against the wall and quickly went back to applying pressure. "Can you talk?"

"I think so."

"Ok. To make sure you don't go into shock I want you to start talking to me."

"About what?"

"Anything. What was your first pet?"

He thought a moment. "A cat named Ferdinand." He continued talking and after a while the bleeding subsided. Sara fashioned a bandage out of the remains of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around his shoulder. A few minutes later the paramedics showed up carting Grissom away.

Sara followed them out to the ambulance.

"How'd you know what to do?" One of the EMTs asked her.

"I used to date a medic."

"Well you might have just saved his life. Are you going to ride with him to the hospital?"

"No. I have something I need to do."