Okay, I'm updating a bit earlier than I thought I would, but vacation can be so incredibly dull at times, but not that I want it to go away any time soon. Sorry for the lack of Greg/Sara stuff in this chapter, but it just has to be in here to make the rest of this make sense.

Chapter Three- Accidents Will Happen

"I printed the woman's pin…you know, the one with her name on it. I found a print, but, of course matches nothing in AFIS. But first off all…why did we find prints on her, when you both said that he left nothing of himself behind for us to find, so why this time?" Greg pondered, finishing up the rest of his sandwich during a working lunch in the conference room.

"That's what science is about, answering questions, Greg. Something caused him to get sloppy with his clean up, what exactly…well we'll figure that out eventually." Greg noticed a change in the tone of Grissom's voice. He was vaguely reminding him of how Sofia usually spoke to him, like he really was a subordinate, not a fellow co-worker. It was odd to hear Grissom sound in anyway, dare he say, superior. Though he had a feeling it had a lot to do with how they all met at the scene. "Maybe he was rushed…or he heard you two and had to get out quick. We had it figured that he always wore gloves…maybe he took them off for some reason."

Greg was about to utter something more when his cell phone rang, which was odd because it was his work number, and most of the people who would be calling were in the same room with him.

"Just a second." He apologized to both Sara and Grissom before answering it. "Yes, this is he…I'm sorry, but I don't know an Ian…how did you get my number…Aggie? She's where! Oh, thank you." He ended the call, set his phone down on the table in front of him, but doesn't say anything.

"Greg…is everything okay?" Sara noticed a far away look in his eyes to replace their usual glow, very much unlike him.

"My sister lives in New York…she was in a hit and run when she was walking to work."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know how bad she is, but she was able to tell someone to call me."

"Greg, you've got a month or more vacation on the books…why don't you take a week to go see her, maybe two." Gil advised.

"What about the case?"

"You know us…we're insomniac workaholics, if anyone can handle it without you, it's us." Sara tried to further convince him that things surprisingly could go on with out him.

"And if we need some extra help we can always call in Sofia." Though Sara was happy with Greg and could care less about she and Gil, but she still couldn't bring herself to tolerate Sofia long enough to work with her yet.

"Just go Greg, or Griss will ban you from the lab until you take some time off…I should know, he's done it to me before."

"Room 202...room 202." Greg frantically repeated to himself running through St. Vincent's hospital like a doctor late for surgery. His plane had landed an hour ago and it seemed as if he had spent more of that time searching for her room number than waiting in traffic.

"Hey, are you lost?" A bored high school age candy striper asked in a true New Yorker accent.

"Room 202?" He begged, hoping someone could finally help him get to his sister quicker.

"Four doors down." She pointed down the hallway.

"Thank you so much." He said relieved before rushing down to that very door.

He quietly walked into her room careful not to wake her if she was sleeping. He didn't even know what her injuries were. She wasn't in the ICU, so it couldn't be near fatal.

He pulled up the visitors chair to the side of her bed. He hated to see her in a hospital bed. He didn't want her to move to New York in the first place. It was too far away for him to watch over her, whichwas probably why she wanted to live on the east coast in the first place. Something had happened to her and he wasn't there to stop it from happening.

He took her hand from where it laid by her side. He hadn't seen her in a near three years. In some ways she hadn't changed a bit. The hand he held in his still had the shortest set of fingernails on which she always nibbled when she was nervous. But other things were so different. Her hair, which was naturally Norwegian blonde, had been dyeda red darker than Catherine's ever wasand Court Tvhad beenthe last channel on the television when it was left on when she fell asleep.

Aggie's brown eyes flickered open to meet a pair just like them she hadn't seen for so long. "Greggo?" She smiled. "Hyggelig å møte deg!" (nice to see you)

"Your friend, uh…Ian called me yesterday. He said he couldn't find Papa's number, only mine. Why was he in your apartment?" He questioned going into big brother mode.

"He has a key."

"Oh…has a key, huh?"

"He's a friend, my next door neighbor. He and a few of his friends have a band, two weeks ago I had to fill in one of them on keyboard for their last gig. "

"A friend?"

"Yes, I do have a social life...unlike you." She pushed herself up carefully with one elbow. "And if you repeat me one more time I'll---"

"He's in a band. You know how guys in rock bands are? They do not make good boyfriends. They'll love you and then leave you."

"Greg! He's only my next door neighbor." She raised her voice, ending the conversation. "Now aren't you going to ask how I am? You know…hospital bed…nurses…awful paper gowns…or my leg."

"Okay…" He smiled. "What the hell happened to you, Aggie?" God, it was like he was talking to himself, a clone.

"Well, I was crossing the cross walk on the way to the studio when a car ran a red light and hit me." She couldn't really remember what happened. She was just repeating what she had been told. "My right leg is broken in two places, I have a hairline fracture in my arm from landing on top of it, a cracked rib, and I messed up my knee." She sighed, it was all hard for her to hear over again. "The doctor wants me to start therapy, but there's still a chance…I may never be able to dance again."

Greg didn't say anything, shocked by what she had just told him. She had tears in her eyes. Dance was her life. She had been prancing around the house in pink tutus since Nana Pernilla had taught her at three years old.

"I just nailed my audition for Roxie in Chicago…and now I'll have to give it to my understudy."

"I'm sorry." It's the only thing he could think to say. He didn't know how to help her.

"Don't I get a hug or something?" She stared at him with a blank look on her face.

"Well, I didn't know what more I could break in there."

"Just watch out for my arm, now get over here." She snapped her fingers and he bent down to finally give her a hug as she asked, and to one up her, he kissed her forehead before sitting back down.

"There…you happy?"

"Yes." She lied back down, wincing as she moved her right arm. "Now how did you get away from work long enough to actually visit me?"

"I had three weeks of vacation on the books and one more week and I'd be out of the lab unless I used some."

"So you use them now instead of my birthday or Christmas…any time I wasn't stuck in a hospital bed so we could have some fun?"

"You do remember I lived here for a year before going to Vegas."

"Well, things have changed since then. I won't be out of here for a few more days. Why don't you stay at my apartment instead of paying for an over priced hotel room. And you never know when a burglar might break in and steal my life savings." She joked. That was always his excuse for her not to move to the city. "And now you carry a gun. That guy will be shaking in his boots!"