disclaimer: I do not own CSI : (

AN: next chap : ) sorry for it being so late! but I was faster than last time :whistles: anyways, here's the next chap. I apologize for being slightly out of ideas. I hope you like the chap at least a bit : ) I started a second WIP which is called shattered hearts and resurrected dreams, I hope that I will be able to update both fics faster in the next months, but I am going to write 5 exams in the next 30 days so I can't promise anything. Afterwards I'll have plenty of time though!

Many thanks to Myra for beta reading :)

Chapter 4:

"Until he tortures, rapes and kills them."

It ran through her head, it haunted her… and the feelings she had felt when she'd sat there, him standing in front of her, being obviously – at least for her – fighting to not loose complete control of himself and the situation, were rising up in her again as she stood in front of the goods shelf, feeling the eyes of that creepy guy on her body.

He asked her after a cigarette and she handed one to him, she felt her heart beating hard and cold showers ran down her spine every time that her eyes met his.

She had known before that this wouldn't be easy, she had told Grissom that she could do it, that she wanted to do it, that she was able to defend herself, that nothing would happen to her… but right then she realized that she hadn't told him all that because she wanted to calm him down, but because she needed to find the strength to really do this.

The fact that he had been so worried about her had made her smile inwardly, but on the outside she couldn't do anything else but pretending not to be worried at all. If this façade would have broken down, she would have lost her strength, would have lost the power to play the decoy in the FBI's operation. And she had to do this. For the poor woman's sake that could be the Strip Stranglers next victim!

When the FBI finally entered the supermarket and he was pressed against the shelf she felt her heart beating even faster. But then she started to realize that this guy wasn't the Strip Strangler, he was just a tiny fish, a thief that had tried to steal her purse. On the one hand she felt relieved, she hadn't thought about the consequences it would have had for her psyche if this man would really have been the Strip Strangler, how would she have felt? She already felt haunted by the way this guy had looked at her, the way he had seemed to undress her with his eyes... How would she have felt if later on it would have been confirmed that it had been the Strip Strangler she'd been talking to? That she could have been the next victim if she hadn't been a decoy in this FBI operation? On the other hand this guy was still out there, probably taking a woman's life right now.

When agent Culpepper's cell phone rang Sara sensed that another woman was dead, the affirmation followed seconds later.

Culpepper told everyone to leave and turned around, Sara turned to Grissom and their eyes met for a moment. She was disappointed; she had hoped that they could prevent another cruel murder. He handed her the purse and told her that sometimes it would be the hardest thing to do nothing.

Sometimes she hated it that he was always right. He placed his hand on her back and guided her to the exit. The feeling of his hand on her body stunned her for a second, then she threw the purse into her basket and continued walking next to him, wondering since when he thought that body contact would not immediately reveal their 'history'. Maybe he had seen that Culpepper had placed his hand on her back several times. Maybe he had seen the looks that Culpepper had given her. Maybe Gil Grissom was slightly jealous. Maybe Culpepper's behavior was not only bugging him because he was working for the FBI and because he behaved as if the lab was his. Maybe it really bugged him that Culpepper had behaved as if she was his.

Sara had already felt it when Grissom had tried to convince her to not participate in this operation. The way he had looked at her, with such intensity, so much strength. He hadn't liked it that she wanted to help the FBI. She knew that he had been feeling hurt, professionally as much as personally. With saying that she wanted to do something that really helped finding the Strip Strangler she had betrayed him, somehow. She had shown him that she did not believe in his skills. She usually did believe in his skills and she still did but she had felt that they needed to do something now and waiting and analyzing hadn't been fast enough for her. She had promised him that she wouldn't let her emotions take control over herself, she did her best to not break this promise but it was hard, really difficult and she'd just needed to do something. And personally, personally she had hurt him with agreeing with Culpepper, with telling him in front of all the FBI agents that she did not agree with him. She had known that he didn't like Culpepper and that he wished that the special agent had never shown up, she had known that he was doing his best to solve the case and she knew that her betrayal must have felt like a slap in the face for him.

They reached the parking lot and he stopped, turning to face her. "I have to drive to the new crime scene. Your apartment is on my way, you want me to drop you off at home so that you can change into your working clothes?"

She nodded softly. "Thanks."

He opened the door of the car for her and again she felt his hand on her back. She couldn't help but smile softly. Maybe he was really a little bit jealous. Never before he had been opening a door for her, not since she was in Vegas, never before he had behaved like this around her.

She took seat and watched him while he walked over to his side of the car. She prayed that he was jealous.

When he had taken seat he started the engine of the car and glanced at her, she caught him doing so and it sent little showers of sensations through her body.

They remained in silence for a while. As they reached a cross road and the traffic light switched to red he stopped the car and turned his face to her. She felt his eyes on her body but she didn't know whether or not she should turn to face him. There was this weird atmosphere that surrounded them, a mixture of her frustration and disappointment because of this case, his anger because of Culpepper, her need to say something and the need to hear something from him, the usual tension that still rose up between them whenever they were together…

"Lost in thoughts?" he asked with soft voice.

Now she turned to face him, she nodded and bit down on her bottom lip. "Somehow." She answered softly.

"What were you thinking?"

She shrugged. "Nothing very important."

"I'm sorry for my reaction earlier at the lab."

She definitely hadn't expected that. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes not leaving him. "You are?"

He smirked when he noticed that this had surprised her. "Yeah. This Culpepper just…"

"…makes you want to rip his head off."

He chuckled softly.

"He's an arrogant, bigheaded, overbearing… well you get the idea." She said almost grinning. She did not really think this but she knew that it was what Grissom thought of Culpepper and she knew that this was what Grissom needed to hear. He needed to hear that she thought the same. Maybe she thought, maybe her theory of Grissom being jealous was not true, but the tiniest chance that he could be made her do this.

"And I thought I was the only one who noticed this." He said somehow sounding relieved.

Their eyes met and silence surrounded them, until the driver behind them blew the horn of his car. His eyes broke away from hers. He started the car again and they continued driving.

She wondered what he might be thinking about the clothes she wore. He had never seen her wearing a skirt; she hadn't worn a skirt in ten years. She had caught him looking up and down her body when he had been standing in front of her in the parking lot before the decoy operation had started, and this filled her with slight confidence but at the same time with insecurity. She knew it was idiotic and naïve to think that there was a chance that he would ever again let this thing between them become more than just a friendship, but she couldn't help but feel that there was still more that he felt for her, more than he thought he should. She had seen with her own eyes that his job was almost all that he cared about, she knew her feelings for him weren't healthy for her heart, but what was she supposed to do?

She couldn't ask him straight what he thought about her clothes but she wanted, needed to know. She didn't know why, the feeling that she needed to know it was just there; maybe it was because she was a woman, maybe because she felt attracted to him, maybe just because he was Grissom. Gil Grissom, the reason why she came to Vegas.

"God I'm glad when I can get out of these clothes." She stretched out her arms a little, pretending to feel awkward in this skirt and shirt. It wasn't hard to pretend this because in fact she really did not like wearing skirts. She wasn't that kind of woman who cares a lot about how tight her clothes are; about how hot she looks in what she wears, about how her makeup looks…

"You don't like wearing that stuff, do you?" He asked slightly smirking.

"Skirts just don't suit me."

Grissom shrugged. "I don't know much about clothes..."

And that was so typically Grissom. Sara cursed herself for doing this to herself. She didn't say anything and was not really expecting him to say anything more.

"But I think you look nice." He said and glanced at her.

A smile flashed over her lips and she felt caught as she noticed him glancing at her. She turned her face away and stared outside of the car, watching the casino lights fly by as they drove. Her heart was beating fast and she felt some butterflies in her stomach, she knew she shouldn't feel all this, but what was she supposed to do?

TBC

I hope it wasn't that bad, if it was I apologize!