Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of its characters.

Summary: While swing shift has to work on several killings of a serial murderer,

everybody starts to wonder if Greg and Sara are not telling them something. (Sara/Greg)

A/N 1: Thanks to FongSaiYuk319 for beta-reading, remaining mistakes are mine.

Chapter 9 – Not real at all

Greg looked at the gun in Sara's hands that was pointed in his direction. He looked at her face that wore a hardened expression, the eyes full of hate. This was not the earlier expression of anger.

Greg stood there, shocked, nailed to the spot where he was standing, still holding the piece of cloth in his hands in front of him, though he felt an instinct to raise his hands. An icy feeling crept over his head and it felt to him as if his hair was standing on end – even more than usual. His effort to keep his voice calm failed, when he started, "Sara, what-,"

"Shut up, Greg," Sara said with a shaking voice.

Suddenly Greg heard another voice from behind him. "You should listen to her."

Greg was startled and wanted to turn around, when the person behind him spoke again, "Don't move or you'll regret it."

Greg froze and looked at Sara, unbelieving.

"He has a gun," she said quietly. Greg swallowed.

"And I think I'm going to use it," the man behind Greg said threateningly.

Greg looked down at the floor. He could not bear the sight of Sara holding the gun in his direction anymore, though it was clear now of course that she was aiming at the man behind him who made sure that Greg was in the line between them.

"You won't get away, if you shoot us," he said, shaking. "Captain Brass and his men are outside. They would hear the shoots."

"True," Greg heard the voice from behind and tried to reason with the man, "If you just go, you'll have a head start and nobody will be harmed."

Then he was startled when something collided with his back and dropped to the floor.

"Pick it up," the man commanded and added in Sara's direction, "You put down the gun."

Sara did not react and held her gun aimed at the man.

Greg turned around to pick up whatever the man had thrown. It was a bag. Greg picked it up and glanced into the direction of the man. Surprised he realized that it was the realtor. "You," he said plainly.

"Yeah, me. And now your friend puts down her gun or we'll have dead here."

Now Sara interfered, "You'd get hit as well - that can I promise you."

Obviously not wanting to take the risk, the realtor turned his attention back to Greg, though he still pointed his gun at Sara. "Take the bag and put your nice little bags in there," he indicated the evidence bags Sara had a laid on a nearby table, one of the few pieces of furniture that stood in this room.

Greg walked over to the table and placed the evidence bags into the man's bag.

"Next: your cell phones, please."

Greg hesitated. The man ordered him around though he was not in a better position than the both CSIs, as Sara had her gun pointed at him as well. However, Greg knew that Sara would not shoot if she did not have to, not wanting to take the responsibility for anybody's death. So their best possibility was playing along with the guy, hoping that nobody would get hurt if they did so.

"Now," yelled the man and Greg walked over to his kit and brought out his cell phone. "Please hold it with two fingers only. I don't want you to accidentally dial a number," the realtor spoke again, in an ironically polite way.

Greg put his cell phone into the bag. "Her phone, too," the man ordered.

Greg walked to Sara's kit, assuming that her phone was in her kit as well. He was right and he put it into the realtor's bag.

"Fine, fine. Now bring the bag to me."

Greg strode to the man and placed the bag in front of him. The realtor picked it up, aiming the gun at Greg now.

Greg thought that this was Sara's chance, as the gun was not pointed at her anymore, but he knew that she would not shoot.

He looked at the man in front of him. "It's pointless, you know. You won't get away with the murder," he said, still a little shaking, his voice hoarsely.

"You're right. It was me who killed the little bitch. Anyway, you shouldn't worry about me, but rather about you," the man replied and wondered loudly, "What am I going to do with the both of you?"

Greg stood still in front of him, slightly trembling, while Sara did not make any sound.

"I think I'll lock you in here. I listened to your lovely conversation a short while ago. Maybe you'll kill each other and solve two of my problems," the realtor said grinning and chuckling about his own joke, and added, "Don't wonder, the door through that you've come I've already locked from the outside. Your Captain Brass didn't realize a thing. Thinks I'm gone. I played a nice little act to him, didn't I? ... You," he said, pointing at Greg. "You go back to the spot there," he indicated the place where Greg had found the piece of cloth. Greg walked over there, still facing the realtor.

"Yeah, I like to have you between me and the girl. Now turn around."

Greg did so, trembling, and was now facing Sara again, who was still holding her gun directed on the man behind Greg.

Greg looked at Sara, afraid the man would just shoot him from behind or would shoot Sara, making sure she would not be able to shoot back, and then kill Greg.

Jim Brass had cursed when he had realized that something had gone wrong.

He had hurried to the room where Sara and Greg had disappeared into, but when he pressed the door handle he detected that the door was locked. He called the police men who had accompanied him and the both of them worked to break open the door.

Brass could hear voices coming from the inside, but he could neither identify them nor could he understand what they were saying. Then he could not hear anybody talking for some seconds and that was the moment when the lock finally gave in and Brass opened the door.

What he saw inside the room convinced him to be in a suspended reality.

Sanders was standing in the middle of the room, apparently shaken, and Sara was pointing a gun at him.

Then Sara turned her head towards Brass and lowered the gun. "He's gone through the door," she said hoarsely and pointed to the door that was on Brass' right side.

"Who?" he asked inquisitively.

"The realtor. He's armed. He's gone through that door just a second before you came."

Brass understood now - Sara had aimed at the guy, not at Greg. However, there was no time for reflection and he and the other police men hurried towards the by Sara indicated door. "It's locked," Brass heard Greg's voice. The boy was obviously still shaken, Brass thought.

He hurried after one of the other police man out of the door that they had broken open, leaving Sara and Greg behind with the other one.

When Brass had left, Sara turned away from Greg, completely overcome. She could hear that Greg was saying something, but her brain did not process the information her ears received. She walked semi-unconsciously to the window. There were still those white fibers on the frame. The realtor had taken the evidence bags with the fibers Sara had collected. She took a new bag and started to pick up fibers and putting them into the bag.

Greg came over to her and held her arm and she shivered from the touch. "You don't have to do this now," he said seriously.

"I have to," Sara insisted and freed her arm from Greg's hold.

She put some more fibers into the bag, sealed it, labeled it and was about to take a new sample of the blood on the frame, when Greg said, "Brass will get him and then we'll have the evidence bags back."

At this moment Brass returned. "Unfortunately, we didn't get him. He's gone, but the search is on."

Sara, who had just stopped working to listen to Brass, restarted taking samples.

"You two should get home and relax your nerves. Somebody else will finish here," Brass said gravely.

Sara shook her head. "No, no, we'll do it. Or I'll do it, if Greg doesn't want to. Almost finished." And with these words she continued to examine the frame of the window.

Greg looked at Brass, helpless.

"This shouldn't have happened," Brass said, shaking his head, "I mean, we are here to protect you."

Greg shook his head. "I don't think it's your fault." Actually he did not know if it was the fault of Brass and his colleagues, but Greg would not make Brass feel worse than he obviously already did.

The both men watched Sara, who worked frantically. Greg caught himself turning around nervously every few seconds, still shaken from the situation they had gotten out smoothly.

Brass noticed that. "Warrick should be here any moment. I called him before I came back. I also tried to reach Gil and Nick, but Gil's out on a scene and Nick didn't answer his phone."

Greg nodded. Brass probably thought that Greg could not give Sara support now, being too shaken himself. And Greg had to admit that Brass was maybe right to a certain extend, not to forget the still unsolved problems between him and Sara, and it was not the right time to talk about that.

He saw that Sara finally finished working and packed her things. At this moment Warrick entered the room and greeted them. He threw Brass a short look and the exchange between them showed Greg that Brass had already told Warrick what had happened.

Warrick strode over to Sara and took her kit. He talked to her calmly and convinced her easily to bring her home. The both left, leaving Brass and Greg behind. "You'll get along alone?" Brass asked Greg quietly and the former lab tech nodded.

TBC

A/N 2: Thank you for your reviews!

Tripp3235, Duckie24, ObessedTWFan: I thought I write for once something that's not completely predictable and eleven minutes after updating, I get a review that shows me I was mistaken ;). Oh, and the answer would be yes then.

remoob1513: No, it's no dream, not this time. I'm not so sure you really want to know what's in my head ;) . Yeah, it is a little ironic. I like it when you see these little things.

cherrydrops12: Greg's breath was away, too ;).

battlestarcsi, Lady-Of-The-Rings: Also thanks to you.