I swear...I promise you...this is not, not in anyway, turning into a GSR fic. I would never do that. This is a drama, and drama's have to have a conflict, so this here is the conflict. It can't be fluffy all the time, I'm a realist and real life just doesn't work that way. I just love Grissom...but not with Sara, and I wanted to write somethings from his side of things. Don't hate me for it. I promise it will get better later.

Chapter Five- Erase/Rewind

She always hated when she forgot to pull the blinds in her bedroom before she went to sleep. At the time she'd normally wake up the sun would be at just the right angle to shine through the window and into her eyes. So this morning like any other she would squint and silently curse to herself.

This morning, however is much different. First of all, her head was pounding, and two, she actually felt like rolling over to Greg and forget about going to work. So, that's just what she did. She smiled and draped an arm over his chest taking in the smell of him beside her, which seemed different as well. She figured it was just some new gunk he was using in his hair. She also made a mental note to hide his ice cream. He was starting to pack on a few pounds.

That's when she knew something was terribly wrong.

She grabbed her robe hanging by her night stand and fumbled for her glasses. It had just occurred to her, Greg was visiting his sister on the other side of the country. If he was there, he obviously couldn't have been in her room too. She started backing away toward the door once it dawned on her that she was with someone at a bar the night before…Grissom.

"Gil…" She said wearily, afraid that if he woke up she wouldn't just be imagining things. "Grissom!" She repeated louder.

This time he heard it, startling him off the edge of the bed on to the floor pulling the sheets along for the fall. His eyes shot open to find himself in a strange room with a horrified Sara near the doorway.

"What the hell happened, Griss?" She panicked, pulling the neckline of her red robe closed.

Grissom looked around the brightly painted room to find articles of clothing that looked an awful lot like his own strewed about the floor and noticed that he probably should gather the sheets a bit closer to him just to be safe.

"Could…could you step outside for a moment…" He stuttered awkwardly. "..Or at least turn around please?"

"I would be more than happy." She walked out into the hallway. "But apparently I've already seen everything." She laughed nervously. From now on she swore only go out drinking by herself.

A minute later he followed out into the hallway wearing the same clothes in which he went celebrating. He always knew he hated parties, how he remembered why.

"Do you want some aspirin?" Sara asked setting down a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He was rubbing his temples, having obviously more to drink than he was accustom to having.

"Oh, that would help so much." She opened the bottle and handed him two red and white caplets and sat down on the couch beside him, taking two pills for herself. "Look…" He began. "We need to talk about this."

"It never happened," blurted out of Sara's mouth.

The suspicious man, Harvey McCain, as the DMV database had informed them, had been taken into custody after Mia had confirmed the DNA a match to the samples collected from the first crime scene and the finger print found on the last victim was a dead ringer for the one printed from the handle of the diner's butter knife handle. Now all that was left was his apartment to process for something to connect him to all four murders.

Based off of Doc Robbins' report, the lividity patterns of all four women lead then to believe they couldn't have been just dumped at the lake, but they were killed there. Though that didn't necessarily mean they didn't stop by his place before heading to Lake Mead.

Sara was in the man's bedroom wearing her lovely pair of orange glasses using the alternate light source on the whole room to bring out any useful information she couldn't see when she looked with her own eyes, but so far she had found nothing of much importance. Since arriving to the scene she hadn't spoken a word to Gil that she didn't absolutely have to say. They had kept to their own respective rooms working away. Gil, like Sara, hadn't yet come across anything, but seemed to find his mind wandering off to things other than the case they were working.

Though he still swore to Sara that he couldn't remember a thing that happened after they got in the cab, it was slowly starting to come back to him. He tried to push it away to the back of his mind, but for some reason it didn't want to stay where he put it. And during work, wasn't the best time for it to be coming back to the front burner.

She wanted it to stay a secret, completely forget about it, and swear up and down it never happened. She called it a mistake. The only mistake he saw was that they had been out drinking, couldn't remember half of what happened, and the fact she was practically living with Greg, for real this time around. He wasn't so sure he wanted to pretend things were different.

Their black cab rolled up to the curb outside and Grissom, as best one man with bad balance could, pushed the door open and escorted Sara to thecab and opened the door for her. As he watched her slide across the backseat, he leaned on theframe of the carto keep himself from falling over and then got in himself.

If the cab driver hadn't already figured they were plastered, he definitely figured that out when Grissom started singing softly to himself. "Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name..."

"Dun...dun...Dun...dun..." Sara chimed in.

"And they're always glad you came..."

"No, Sam made us leave!" Sara whined.

"You wanna be where…something, something, something's...all the same." He continued, though forgetting the words in the process.

"Grissom...since when do you sing?" She asked resting her head comfortably on his shoulder.

"Since I got into celebrating with you." He rested his right hand lightly on her knee. In his right mind, he would never do such a thing, but then again he wasn't in his right mind. He was out of his mind. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it before, it was just that he had always expected a slap in the face, but this time there was a good chance she had no idea he had done anything in the first place.

"We're here!" She announced, seeing the cab pull into the parking lot to her apartment building.

Once the car came to a stop, she managed to get out, pay the fare, and walk a few paces before Grissom could crawl out of the cab and follow close behind her.

"What are you doing?" She turned around, finally noticing his staggering steps behind her.

"I thought I should at least walk you to your door." He swayed and stumbled a few steps away from her. He'd nearly fallen over before she noticed and linked her arm with his to safely guide him up the stairs.

Once at her door, Sara let go of Grissom to get her keys out of her jacket pocket. As she did he leaned against the door waiting for her to open it. Though Sara momentarily forgot everything she learned in physics, because gravity won when she pushed the door open and Grissom fell to the floor.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She crouched down to his view, and lent a hand to pull him back up to his feet. "You didn't hurt anything, did you?" She shut the door behind him and walked a few steps further into her kitchen.

"No Sara...I'm just fine." He answered slowly, trying to form each word correctly, which for some reason seemed much harder than usual. As he spoke, his hands found their way down her sides to rest around her waist.

"You know...my couch is free if you'd rather stay then have to tumble all the way down the stairs to get back to the cab." Her fingertips crept up the bare skin of his arms to his neck and the remnants of his graying stubble as she stared back into his hazy blue eyes waiting for him to answer.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, bringing her body closer to him. "I'd like that." Sara felt the movement from his lips as he spoke inches from her own.

And that's where it got a bit fuzzy. Everything after that he couldn't remember. It was a big blur. He couldn't remember the words they exchanged…if there were any words said at all.

Just then was when Sara chose to call for him from the other rooms so he was forced to put all of that to the back of his mind and go back into working Grissom mode.

"Griss…I think I found something." Finally some kind of cheery tone came back into her voice that he hadn't heard since the night before.

He hurried into the hallway from where he heard her voice. "What?"

She had, on a hunch, opened the closet, thinking that if someone wanted to hide something that would be the best place for it. His eyes followed down to the floor where Sara's finger pointed toward. "I would know those anywhere." Four white pairs of roller skates are lined up at the bottom of the closet beside a shoebox of photographs, ones she picked up to see that there was one of each of the victims she had come to recognize so well.

"You know some serials like to take souvenirs to relive each kill every once in a while."

When Sara and Grissom entered the interrogation room carrying the four pairs of skates they had just collected, two people were already seated at the table situated in the middle of the room, McCain and his lawyer. The suited lawyer was leafing though the pages in the manila folder in front of him and occasionally consulting his client, though McCain was too busy staring off toward the door, though which they had just entered, slightly rocking back and forth.

"Now Mr. McCain, if you can, explain how these roller skates happened to be in the bottom of your closet?" Grissom asked as they both set two pairs down on the table.

The man's lawyer spoke up before Harvey had a chance to defend himself. "How can you prove these have anything to do with the four women from the diner? Just because the man happened to have four pair of white skates in his house, does not make him a murderer!"

"Well it does when inside there were epithelial samples matching that of the four women that were killed…"

"Can you prove that?" The lawyer continues defending Mr. McCain.

Grissom pulled the lab results out of her file and handed them over to the stubborn man to back their story. "Now…would you care to explain?"

Harvey remained silent staring off towards Sara, as if he was in a daze and completely unaware of where he currently was.

"Okay then…all the other scenes, you were on top of things. You knew what you were doing. You wore gloves and you cleaned up afterwards." Though it was Gil who was addressing him, the man still insisted on intently watching Sara instead. "Why did you slip up so much on the last one…DNA samples…fingerprints…You took off your gloves, didn't you?" There was still silence throughout the interrogation room."You took off your gloves to touch her."

Gil noticed how she sat uncomfortably in her chair, though naturally anyone in her position would. She had met him before when she was working in the diner. McCain knew that she was the one person who had put him in that very interrogation room. She had been the one who caused him to get caught, and if for some reason they couldn't get a conviction in the end of all things, shewas scared.

"Christine…my Christine…" The only words the mad man muttered, but Sara knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Your fiancée…" Sara began, but not with out an odd look from Grissom. "…seventeen years ago there was a case much like this one. The soon to be Christine McCain…she came to Las Vegas to become a dancer…she worked at the same diner…" Grissom then started to remember the case to which she was referring. It was one of the first cases Grissom had worked since moving to Las Vegas. "Then she met someone at the diner…said he could make her a star…he took her out to the lake…and he killed her…right?" Harvey then attempted to get out of his chair, but he was quickly forced to sit back down. "This last victim, she was the splitting image of Christine. She even had the same name. You took of your gloves…you wanted to feel her again. But she still wasn't your Christine…then you lost it."

As Sara finished, he jumped from his chair, and before anyone could catch him, he had a firm hand grasping Sara's neck. Grissom didn't give a moment's thought before grabbing the guy and pushing him away from her with more force than he thought he had. McCain fell over backwards and was escorted out of the room by Brass. The last time something like that had happened to Sara, he was locked out of the room with absolutely no way to help her. He wasn't going to let it happen again.

Okay so now that case is wrapped up and except for one scene, Grissom is completely out of the rest of the story...so no worries Sandle's fans! Don't be afraid to tell me what you think...the good, the bad, and possibly even the ugly too!
And just so you know, I'm no longer going to be "review nazi" who refuses to post until I get 5 reponses. It gets pretty boring waiting to post until I hear what you all think of the one before. The next chapter should be up soon, depending on my schedule. I have three presentations in the next two weeks (one on forensics...so that's not so bad). We'll see...