Author's note: Sorry for the extended delay all! I've been caught up in getting ready for college and haven't had a lot of time to write! But I'm back, and things are WAY less hectic now, so I'll try to write more!

……….

Even the smallest drops of blood were hard to get out. Matthew had always thought that maybe Sara's blood was tougher, therefore making it harder to get out. Of course, he knew that was silly, Sara's blood was no different than anyone else's, and trying to wash the hooker's stains out of his pants just proved his point.

He had hoped his stain washing days were over, but the girl had put up more of a fight then he had expected.

He paused for a moment, staring down at his hands. They were stained pink, and dry specks of blood were still caught underneath his fingernails. Matthew wouldn't admit it out loud, but his stomach ached a little at the sight. In the two years Sara had been with him, he had never had to resort to this much violence at one time. The injection he'd given the hooker had almost been pointless, but even in the end she had refused to give in. He'd been more merciful then anything else. Knock her out so she could die painlessly.

Right now he was happy for the privacy of his motel room. He stared at himself in the dusty mirror. It was like he didn't even recognize his own reflection anymore. Things had gotten a lot more complicated then he had originally planned. In the beginning he knew people would die, but back then, he had only planned on a minimal body count. Two people. Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle. Then it became necessary to draw Grissom back to Denver, and the runaway had been perfect. He had killed her. And now, to let them know they were not alone. Notes and flowers didn't seem appropriate for the occasion. Instead, he left them with a wake up call. Matthew kept his word, and now, he was here. In Vegas to finish what he had started.

He looked at himself in the mirror once more before he left the bathroom. He looked older, more stressed, more worn. But soon, soon it'd all be over.

He grabbed his jacket off the bed and headed for the door. He had places to stop before he headed to Grissom's.

……….

Beginning of shift always seemed slow, but tonight it ran even slower as Warrick tried to set up the phone conference with Catherine. The guys were just lucky that tonight, even the criminals were slow getting to their various crimes.

"Got it," mumbled Warrick as he clicked the on button and quickly dialed Catherine's cell. After a few rings, Catherine picked up.

"Everyone there?" Catherine asked.

"We're all here Cath. Tell them what you told me," replied Warrick.

"Ok. Does anyone remember Grissom leaving for a few days about a year ago?"

The group nodded, but only Greg actually said anything, "Did he go to Denver?"

"Yeah," Catherine said, "He came here to I.D. a body. A girl who looked enough like Sara to catch the medical examiner's eye. Of course, it wasn't her, but still, at the time it was suspicious."

"What are you thinking? The kidnapper was taunting Grissom?" asked Nick.

"Maybe. Whatever he was doing, he got Grissom's attention. He was in town for a day, and took the next two days off. He called in, said he had the flu," said Catherine, and in the background the guys could hear papers being flipped.

"And when have we ever known Grissom to be sick. I knew that was really off," said Greg.

The guys nodded, and Warrick continued, "But it's not just that it caught Grissom's attention, this girl was beaten and sedated before she was shot. A lot of her wounds match Sara's."

"We just need to get a blood sample from Sara. Grissom might take her to a doctor, or he might bring her to the lab. If he does that, don't crowd her guys. She's going to need some space. I'm going to be heading back tonight with the sample of blood the coroner took a year ago. It's been on ice, so we may still be able to find something in the sample. We'll compare it to Sara's sample when I get there."

"Okay. We'll see you when you get here."

The line went dead.

"Ok, Greg, check in with Brass, fill him in on what's going on," said Warrick, standing up from the table, "I'm going to see if anything's come in yet. If we have something, Nick, you'll be with me."

Nick and Greg nodded and headed out of the break room. Warrick headed to his own destination, hoping there would be a new case to take his mind off this old one.

……….

It had taken Grissom awhile to get Sara out of the bathroom, and even longer to make her tears go away. They had shared a hug only half an hour before, but, as he tried to calm her down, she flinched away from his touches. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and when he asked what was wrong, she told him nothing, and refused to let him help. It unnerved him, the way she had turned from him so quickly. But Grissom was a smart man; he knew this was a possibility, even if in the last twenty four hours he hadn't wanted to admit it.

Now that Sara had calmed down, she sat quietly on the couch, her comfy bathrobe wrapped tightly around her shivering body. Grissom was careful not to upset her again. He sat in the chair across from her. Sara absentmindedly rubbed her arm through the robes cotton sleeves, and from where he was sitting, Grissom could hear the shudder in her sigh. The silence was hard, but he would wait until she was ready to talk.

"Who called you earlier?" she asked finally.

"Detective Warner. They're following a lead in Denver, the young girl I went to I.D. about a year ago. The girl you said was named Stacy?"

Sara looked up at Grissom and frowned, "They know who she is? They know he did that to her?"

"No, but they know she's significant. They think she may have been injected with something. They think you may have been too."

Sara closed her eyes. She could see his face, feel the needle being stabbed into her skin, feel the tears threatening to fall again…

She took a deep breath, "I was. In the tub, when he was washing all the evidence of… him… off me. He shoved a needle in me. I passed out not too long afterward."

Grissom nodded and looked down. He rubbed his hands together, as if they were doing his thinking for him, "We… we should head to the lab and draw some blood. I know you may not be ready to see everyone, but… there could still be some trace of whatever it is he injected you with, and if there is, we can look up recent purchases of it in the Denver area. We could find him, Sara."

"Will you do it?"

Grissom looked up, "Do what?"

"Draw my blood. I mean, you'll be doing that, right?"

"Only if you want me to," Grissom replied.

The room was silent for a moment as Grissom waited for any sign that that was what she wanted. Their eyes met, and Grissom's breath caught in his throat, his heart tightened with emotion. Sara nodded her head, and if Grissom had blinked, he would have missed the tiny motion.

"I trust you," she whispered.

He gave her a small smile, then stood up. She followed, and grabbed his hand as he went to walk to the phone. Grissom stopped. He stared at their joined hands, then looked into Sara's eyes. She gave him a small smile.

"Thank you."

Grissom nodded, and squeezed her hand. She let go and walked to the bedroom to get dressed. Grissom grabbed the phone and dialed Warrick's cell phone number.

"Warrick, it's Grissom. I'm bringing Sara in. We need to get a blood sample."

……….

"Yeah, alright, but Nick and I are heading out. Dead girl found in an ally. Greg will be here, though."

Grissom mumbled something on the other end, then hung up. Warrick did the same. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he closed his locker door, then turned to Nick, who was slipping his CSI vest over his shoulders.

"What do we know about the girl?" asked Nick as he followed Warrick out to his Denali.

"Nothing much right now. Vartaan said she was found by a bartender who went to take out the trash. Saw her hand hanging out of the dumpster. She was shot in the head., and beaten up pretty badly."

"Anyone I.D. her yet?" asked Nick as he opened the passenger door.

"A couple of hookers said she was one of them. She'd been picked up about an hour earlier."

Nick turned to look at his partner, "She was that close to where she was picked up and nobody heard anything?"

Warrick just shrugged his shoulders, and turned on the car.

The drive to the crime scene was short, but quiet. Even knowing they had a scene to process, both men couldn't help but feel that leaving the lab behind was somewhat wrong. It had been two years since they had both seen Sara Sidle, and knowing she would be in the lab while they were gone was painful knowledge. Deep down, they both needed to see her, to know that she was truly alive. That need, though, had to be put off for just a little longer. Tonight, someone wasn't coming home alive, and they needed to figure out why.

Vartaan waited for them just inside the crime scene tape. His narrow face seemed a little paler then usual, and a small drop of sweat settled near his hairline. The cool Las Vegas night was doing nothing for him. A few cops lingered around the scene, talking quietly amongst themselves, throwing curious glances at the dumpster where the body lay every few seconds. Warrick and Nick looked at each other, each hoping the other had an answer for the unusual behavior. They would have their answer soon enough.

"I have to tell you, this scene is creeping me and my guys out."

Warrick scrunched his eyes and studied the detective, "Vartaan, how long you've been doing this? I know you've seen a dead body before."

Vartaan looked back at the dumpster, then back to Nick and Warrick, "It's not that. She just looks so much like her that we almost called to see if she hadn't gone missing again."

"Whoa, back up. Who does the vic look like?" asked Nick.

Motioning towards the dumpster, Vartaan stepped back from the tape, "Go have a look for yourselves."

The CSI's picked up their kits and ducked under the tape. Curious stares followed them as they carefully made their way to the dumpster, making sure not to disturb any potential evidence along the way. When they reached its side, they pulled out latex gloves. The snap of the latex against their skin echoed in the empty ally.

"Count of three?" asked Nick.

Warrick nodded. Nick counted down on his fingers and when he reached three, both men leaned over the edge. They met the girls hazel eyes.

A girl who was a dead ringer for Sara Sidle.

They wanted to pull back in horror, but their eyes wouldn't let them. Two years, and their first view was a look alike in a dumpster. Warrick shook his head and closed his eyes.

"What do you think? Coincidence?" he asked.

Nick shook his head, "Can't be," he whispered.

"Why not?"

"Well, unless this girl, who just happens to look like Sara, also just happens to know a Grissom, I think we were meant to find her."

Warrick frowned and followed Nick's gloved finger. Gripped tightly in the girl's hand was a sealed envelope.

And on the front, the words, "To Grissom."

……….

The street was dark, lit only dimly by the lamp at the center of the block. A car pulled into the parking lot across the street from the townhouses. Matthew relaxed a little when the car drove around to the back, and didn't return.

A light in Grissom's window turned on, and a shadow passed across the opaque curtains. A smile spread across Matthew's face; he wasn't too late. Grissom and Sidle were still home. He slid down in his seat a little and turned his body more towards the house. The light in the window turned off, and the door opened. Sara stepped out. Her hair shimmered in the porch light. She had just gotten out of the shower, Matthew noted. She smiled as Grissom stepped out behind her, shutting the door, and locking it. He met her eyes and nodded his head as she said something, then led her down the stairs. As they walked to his Denali, she timidly took his hand in hers and smiled up at him as he walked her to the passenger side. Seconds later, they were pulling away, and Matthew's eyes followed them down the street.

When the car turned the corner, he stepped out of his rental, scanning the street for anyone who might see him approaching the townhouse. The light above the door bothered him, it lit up more of his face then he liked. But it didn't much matter right now, his business only brought him here for a few minutes longer. Just enough to leave one more envelope for Grissom and Sara, so they knew for sure he was here.

He set the envelope on the door step, and walked away. If the body in the dumpster wasn't enough to shake them, the note on the doorstep would. Not only would they know now that he was in town, but he knew where they lived too.

And they would not be getting way. It was nearing the end.

TBC