Title: Come Together

Summary: Grissom and Sara realize the major problems of being stuck in a metal shack. The rest of the CSI's realize that their disappearances are, in fact, a kidnapping. GSR.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI sob

For Catherine, shift could not end soon enough. Every 5 minutes she was checking the clock and she could not concentrate to save her life. "Chill girl!" She mentally berated herself. "Griss and Sara are probably just…um… sick and can't get to the phone." She took some calming breaths and turned back to sifting through the evidence. Nick poked his head into the room.

"Are they here yet?" he asked. Catherine ignored him; she didn't want to lose her train of thought. "Earth to Catherine! Houston calling. Do you read?"

"No, they aren't!" she yelled, annoyed at the distraction and at herself for becoming distracted. A looked of hurt mingled with surprise took over the emotional Texan's face. "It's not you Nick," she sighed while picking up papers, apologizing for the second time already this shift. "I'm just really worried, you know?" Nick nodded his head.

"I figured I would go on over to Sara's place and see if she's there," Nick told her, patting her on the back. "Only thing is, I don't know where she lives."

"I don't actually know either," Cath said, shaking her head. "I can't think of anyone who would actually know, except maybe Grissom." They both become absorbed in thought. Nick looked up through the Plexiglas walls. Warrick was drinking coffee in the break room, Sofia was talking to someone in the reception area, Greg was rocking out in the lab… Greg! He would know where Sara lived! Nick shot through the doors and bounded into the laboratory.

"Greg!" Nick shouted, turning off the radio. "Where does Sara live?"

"Uh, in an apartment?"

"No! I-"

"A cave?"

"No, listen-"

"Out in the woods?"

"GREG!"

"What?"

"What is Sara's address? Where exactly is her place?" Nick finally finished. Greg gave him an odd look. Nick explained, "Catherine and I are going to go over and see if she is there. If you know where she lives, you can come along." Greg set down the papers he had been holding.

"She actually lives a few blocks down from me in a quaint little apartment complex." He smiled his most charming smile. "When do we leave?"

Sara woke up at around 5. She stood up, hearing the inevitable call of nature. Grissom was sleeping across the way and she just couldn't bring herself to go to the bathroom with him in the room. It was too… exposing. She paced the room, sat down, stood up. She squeezed her legs together. She had to go! Sara walked over to the corner and walked back. "Nope! I'm going to hold it even if it means having my bladder burst!"

Grissom was woken up by her fidgeting. As he wiped the sleep from his eyes, he eyed her warily. She looked uncomfortable. Maybe he had been snoring or sleep talking. He began to imagine all the awkward things he could have said. "Sara… Come here baby! I love you doll face." He shook the horrifying thought from his head and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I have to go, Gil" she answered, squirming.

"Go where?"

"You know…go." She looked around. "Do you realize that there is no jug or anything for a chamber pot, and there is also no toilet paper?" Grissom also looked around. Not a thing to serve as a makeshift bathroom and they couldn't just go on the floor! The vomit was already beginning to stick up the small room. He rummaged through the food pile, and finally grabbed a plastic container that had held the jerky and ripped off the breast pocket of his shirt. He held it out to her, and with a sheepish glance, turned to face the wall.

"Um…If you only pee, don't use the pocket. That should be saved for, shall we say, "Special Occasions"," he stammered. They had to save their few precious resources.

Sara was still uncomfortable about using the restroom around Grissom. She didn't want him to hear her urinating, so she began to sing at the top of her lungs:

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Even just the sound of it is something quite atrocious.

If you say it loud enough you'll always sound precocious!

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Um didelidledidle um didleaye…."

She finished her job and stood up. Snapping on the Tupperware top, she placed it in the corner. "I'm done, you can turn around now," she told Grissom, who was patiently waiting in the corner. He turned around, a smile on his face. "What?" Sara asked.

"You have a very nice singing voice, that's all." He informed her. "You should sing more often."

"I tell you what. If we get out of here, I'll sing at the annual Christmas party," Sara declared.

"Deal."