Chapter Twelve – Nightmares.

Harriet woke with a start as somewhere in her state of dreaming, she had remembered that she hadn't fallen asleep in her bed. She tried to catch her breath after the nightmare she had just had. Images of her mother lying on the ground blurred out of focus as she took in the real world.

Her neck was aching and she realised it was because she had been sleeping sitting up with her head leant against the sofa. She rubbed her neck and looked up at Greg, who was still fast asleep, spread across the sofa where she had made him lie down when they got in from work. He had lay quietly for what seemed like a long time, not crying but not talking either. Harriet hadn't forced it. He needed to get over this in his own way.

She sighed, could understand how he felt to an extent. Aware that he hadn't been a CSI for a year yet, she knew it probably felt like the worst assignment he had ever had but she knew from experience that he would get worse scenes, although he would never forget the first one that really got to him. The edges of his eyes still looked a bright shade of pink from the crying he had done before but he looked peaceful enough. Harriet envied him; she wished sleeping would shut her off from her problems but sleeping sometimes made it worse. She relived them. Sighing to herself, she got up and began to get ready for the day ahead. Technically, wasn't it night? Working the graveyard shift was really starting to confuse her. It was five o'clock so perhaps it was the afternoon. Still pondering this, she trudged into Greg's room to take a shower. Another thing she found confusing, she had to go into someone's bedroom to take a shower. Strange little things like that amused her.

Greg awoke to the smell of bacon. He lay on the sofa for a moment and took a deep sniff of the aroma that was wafting in from the kitchen. As if spurring him on, he got up quickly and stretched with a large silent yawn, turning towards the kitchen. Harriet was busy cooking with her back to him so didn't see him.

Taking an irresistible opportunity, Greg slowly and quietly walked up behind her, trying to keep the smile that was threatening his face from appearing. He poked her in the sides, trying to tickle her. She didn't flinch.

'Morning Greg,' she said, casually.

Greg walked to her side and leaned against the counter.

'What is wrong with you? How come you didn't squeal like a normal person?' he asked in disbelief.

'Firstly, you snore worse than I do so when it stopped I knew you were awake and when it was so quiet I figured you were up to something. Oh, and I'm not ticklish,' she explained, tipping the bacon onto a plate.

'You are so strange,' Greg said.

Harriet smiled at him and took some bread and a bottle of sauce he didn't recognise from the cupboard. She walked over to the breakfast bar and sat down whilst Greg poured himself some coffee.

'What are you making,' Greg asked as he sat down opposite her.

'Bacon butties, U.K style,' she announced.

'Butties?' Greg repeated not recognising the slang.

'Sorry - sandwiches,' she said, passing him a plate with one on.

Greg looked at it, unsure. What was so special about U.K style bacon sandwiches? He was a little worried that she might be playing a practical joke on him.

Harriet was glad that Greg seemed to have woken up in a playful mood. Although she knew he hadn't forgotten about yesterday, he must be ready to get on with everything else and not let it eat him up. She was amused at his face when she presented him with the bacon sandwich.

'It's not poisoned you know,' she said, with a smile, taking a large bite of her own sandwich.

'What makes it U.K style?' Greg asked.

'HP,' Harriet said proudly, 'also known as brown sauce.'

'Oh, what does it taste like?'

'Umm, its hard to describe, kind of tangy,' she said.

Greg pulled a face as if to say 'whatever you say' and bit into the sandwich. He looked unsure as his taste buds adjusted to this new taste then, seeming impressed, he continued to eat. Harriet smiled and also carried on eating her own sandwich.

Her thoughts went back to her nightmare. She had seen her mother lay on the ground in a different position to what she had been at the crime scene. In the background she had heard a small child crying, asking for its mother. Then the scene had changed rapidly from image to image, like she was taking snap shots of evidence – a comb, a gun, a bloodied knife. It had all been so confusing. Her other nightmares had been similar but the images had been the same each time. In last nights dream, they had been new images; it was like she was trying to tell herself she had missed something important. And the child crying, she was sure that was just because of what Greg had been through but at the same time she knew there was a possibility it was something else.

'Harriet, what's wrong?' Greg asked suddenly, pulling her from her daydream.

'Nothing, I'm fine,' she said, instinctively.

'Don't lie; you're shaking. What is it?' he asked again, this time more insistent.

Harriet looked at her hands that were holding on tightly to the sandwich and as Greg had said, they were shaking tremendously. She put the sandwich down and brushed the crumbs off her hands.

'Oh, it's nothing, sugar low that's all. Don't worry so much,' she lied, getting off the bar stool and walking towards her room.

Harriet walked as fast as she could into her room so that Greg wouldn't have chance to protest. She sat on her bed and stared at her mobile phone, wondering if she should do this or not. If she was going to make this call, she was going to have some things to answer for. She sighed and started to dial a number. It rang a few times and she almost put it down as she felt her heart beating stronger. As she was about to hang up someone answered.

'Samuels.'

'Hi Rick, it's Hattie.'

There was no response on the other end of the line as the caller was shocked into silence.

'Rick are you still there?'

'Yeah, I'm here,' he said at last. 'It's good to hear your voice.'

'Thanks, I was wondering if you could do me a favour.'

'I thought there was a catch.' he replied.

Harriet explained what she wanted him to do. He argued with her a little at first but in the end she won him over. He was the only one who could help her get what she needed, the only one with jurisdiction and she knew he would do anything to help her.

'Ok, I'll see what I can do,' he said, defeated.

'Thank you. Call me with the details,' Harriet said.

'I will.'

'Thank you. Bye.' She was about to hang up when he stopped her.

'Harriet, wait, I …I miss you,' he said.

Harriet rubbed her forehead with her free hand. What could she say to that?

'Rick, don't say that please,' she said.

'I love you.'

Harriet snapped the phone shut and fell back on to her bed. She stared at the ceiling for a while until Greg knocked on the door and asked if she wanted to go into work early seeing as they had left early yesterday. She was up for that; work had always provided a welcome distraction from having to think about anything relatively important.

A/N - oooh! I hope you're all wondering what the heck is going on here? If so then that means i did a half decent job of writing it. I tried to throw in a few twists to keep everyone interested,I hope it's working!