AN: Don't own anyone but Fate. I'm sorry for the grammar errors and such, I'll try and fix it. Also with the review about Fate's name and why I picked such an uncommon name, I have to say I really know myself why I picked it. I always like weird names like that. In my last story I had a girl named Clementine, so I guess it's just me.

"I don't care what you say Greg, these prints on this knife doesn't belong to your girl," Jacqui told Greg as he was pleading her to run it again.

"Maybe you missed something, I don't know can you try it again, please?" Greg begged to her almost ready to get on his knees.

"Greg I checked it 3 times already, I thought I was just tired and messed it up. But I didn't, it's not Fate Copeper, now please go," Jacqui told him. Right after she told him that Greg's pager went off. He looked down at it and back up and told her, "At else someone wants me by them," and walked out. He walked down the hall into his old DNA lab.

"What's up Mia?" Greg asked hoping for good news.

"The blood on the knife does match Sara, but there was another donor. Female. So I want on a hunch and had Brass get me Fate's DNA, figured it'd go faster. Matches. She most likely pricked her finger on the tip of the knife," Mia told him.

"That's great if only it were her prints on the knife," Greg said getting more confused by the minute.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean her prints aren't on the knife, someone else's are," Greg told her and left.

Greg wanted out and on his way called Brass to bring Fate in again; he wanted to talk to her. In about another hour Fate showed up with her lawyer in the interrogation room. Greg walked in to see them already waiting. He took a seat on the other side of them.

"Fate, what happened that night?" Greg asked sincerely.

"Let me guess, you couldn't get my prints off the knife?"

Greg just stared at her. "I'm right huh?" She asked him.

"I'm going to find who you got to commit this for you. I don't care if I have to go through your entire life to find them. I promise you that, Fate," Greg said getting up and leaving. He went back to her house to see if there was anything new that wasn't in context the first visit.

Greg found her address book and bagged it to see if Brass could find anything off it. He looked at her pictures she had around and it was mostly with her and her guy friends. Greg knew most of them were guys from when they were dating. He didn't feel threatened at all by it. So maybe the attacker is a male. Maybe. His cell phone disturbed his thoughts by the annoying ring.

"Sanders," he spoke into it.

"Yeah Greg it's Catherine. I checked the trashcan the knife was found in, it had no one else's prints but hers on it. Warrick checked the car again in the lab. He sent a piece of paint to Hodges and it's an exact match. There's a dent on the side of the car, her car as to be the getaway car. All the blood in it matches Sara's. The skirt- same material, and finally, the shoe prints match- same size and everything," Catherine told him without him interrupting.

"Thanks Catherine, I'm gonna go back to the crime scene and see if there's anything else that backs up someone else being there. Bye," he said and hanging up.

He drove back to the scene and got out. He was glad they keep these things taped until the crimes solved. He was looking at the dirt ground in front of the fence to see if there are any shoe prints. The attacker had to go around back and there were tire tracks right on the edge where the asphalt and dirt met. He finally saw one clearly. By eye it looked like a male boot size 12's, maybe. He molded it and brought it back to the lab.

Greg brought it back to the lab and found it to be a Timberland brand and a size 12 and a half.

Dialing his phone he spoke, "Brass? Anyone turn up?"

"Yeah a couple of shaky excuses that I'm looking into," Brass said into his own phone.

"Good, narrow it down to their shoe sizes. To be exact- size 12 and a half," Greg said hanging up.

Sara sat trying to fall back asleep. It's all she could do. Her stomach hurt exceptionally painful today. She was sick of looking at the lime wash walls of her hospital room. It wasn't so much of going out and helping with the investigation anymore but more of just going home. 6 more days, she kept saying to herself in her head. What's worse everyone was so busy that no one visited her since Catherine and Warrick. How can they not check by every once in a while to see if I'm okay or dying in this stupid room, she thought to herself.

Her hearing the door open and close interrupted her thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Nick standing there smiling at her holding flowers.

"Me and Grissom thought the room could use a little brightening up," Nick said a little shyly putting them in the vase next to her bed and taking a seat. "So how you been?" He asked.

"Alright, I guess the best you can be when you've been stabbed," Sara said looking up at him.

"Anyone come by lately or am I just too late?" Nick asked.

"Actually no one's came by for about a day and a half and they stormed out of here," Sara admitted with a little bitter in her tone.

"Whoa, what happened?" Nick asked a little surprised at her comment.

"Catherine and Warrick are refusing to tell me anything about the investigation and Greg hasn't even came by yet," Sara told him flat out.

"They probably just don't wanna get your hopes up-"

"That's what they said," Sara interrupted him with.

"Than it's probably true Sara. Also Greg's probably busy with the investigation, he is the lead of it Sara," Nick told her.

"Why is he the lead?"

"Because he 'had to have this case' Grissom didn't want to fight him. Especially with one of his CSI's in the hospital," Nick informed her.

"So he does care I guess," Sara said to herself forgetting Nick was there.

"Trust me, he does."