Author's Note: Still don't own them, wish I did. I'd chain Eric S. to my bed and...well...I'd have to up the rating to finish that comment. Lol.

Another new story! What am I thinking! I couldn't write anything else until this idea came out, so here you go. Next week proves to be busy, but it also proves to allow ample writing time. The following two weeks are Spring Break, so expect a lot of updates coming up this month!

If I'm urged to continue (wink, wink) I should have something out within a few days, probably Tuesday.

Let me know if you're reading and if you like/dislike! Any errors you find are definitely mine--my right hand girl is out of town at the moment. This was done while multitasking an online music lesson, a msn conversation, and writing a play for my creative writing class, so if it seems choppy, let me know and I'll revise as best as possible.

Jenny

Provocation:

Sara raised her head from the break room table as the door opened and Greg walked in, a file in his hand, "Got a lead on the Michelli case."

"Great." Sara replied, coughing slightly as she covered her mouth with her hand. "What did you find?"

"You okay?" Greg asked, sitting down next to Sara, placing a hand on her forehead, "You're burning up."

Sara shrugged, stifling a yawn, "I'm okay, just a cold. The case?"

Greg rubbed her arm gently as she shivered, "Come on, let's take a break."

Sighing impatiently, Sara shook her head. They had way too much to do, they shouldn't even be talking, much less talking about abandoning their work. "Greg, drop it, we don't have time. I'll be fine."

"Okay." Greg relented with a frown, "Victor Michelli has a rap sheet longer than most convicts I know. He's wanted in three states under the name Victor Rigatonelle, Victor Greenbaum, and Victor Vitelli. He's got a page of aliases. 4 aggravated rapes and murders are at the top of his list. Arizona is looking for him on two of these counts. He could be our man."

"His previous victims--" Sara began, rubbing her head tiredly, "Any wives, girlfriends, mistresses?"

Greg slid the folder to her, pointing to the middle of the page, "Wives and fiancés in each case." He held up a piece of paper in his other hand, "I've got a warrant."

"Let's go get him."

Sara and Greg both stood, and Greg had to grab Sara to keep her from falling as her knees buckled beneath her. She put a hand to her forehead, lowering herself back into her chair with a groan, "Stood up too fast, I'm okay."

"You don't look so good."

"Thanks."

"Seriously, I can go to Michelli's place alone, you go back to our place and get into bed. I won't be too long." Greg pleaded, taking her hand into his, "I'm worried about you."

Sara smiled up at Greg, squeezing his hand, "I appreciate that you worry, but you don't need to. I'll be fine."

She slowly stood again, relieved when the room didn't start to sway. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the fridge and took out a bottle of water, taking a swig and briefly bringing the bottle to her aching head. The cold bottle was a great relief, but as Greg's gaze narrowed, she hastily lowered it, not wanting to be lectured on her work habits yet again. Plastering on a smile, she turned to Greg and motioned towards the door, "I'm driving."

"Never going to happen." Greg replied, dangling his keys in front of her as he walked into the hallway, "Are you sure you're up to this?"

Sara nodded, stifling another yawn, "I'm sure. We can call Brass for backup once we get in the car."

"Sounds good to me."

--

"It's not like we don't have guns, Greg." Sara protested tiredly, "I just want to go in there, take a look around, and get out of here. It doesn't even look like he's home."

Greg shook his head, "Protocol, Sara, you know as well as I do that we have to follow the rules."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." Sara grumbled, leaning her head back with a sigh, "What's taking him so long?"

Greg glanced at his watch, shaking his head, "Give him a few more minutes, he's a rookie. I told you that you should have just gone home. You look awful."

"I was fine until you drove like a maniac to get here." Sara muttered, lowering her hand to her stomach, "You could be one of those kamikaze cab drivers."

"Couldn't have been that bad, I didn't make you puke." Greg joked, disappointed when she remained silent. Heturned the radio on, gently adding, "Come on Sara, don't be in a bad mood tonight, please."

Sara turned to look at Greg, a frown on her face, "I'm not in a bad mood. I'm sorry...I just...I may be coming down with something."

"No, really?" Greg teased, "After we're done here, we'll both take off...I'll take you home, tuck you into bed, and we'll spend the entire day in bed together."

Sara laughed softly, "When you say that, it sounds so dirty."

"What makes you think I'm not being dirty?" Greg laughed, "Seriously, though...I'll run you a bubble bath and you can just relax. I won't even proposition you for sex."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Sara yawned, "Here comes our backup."

Ten minutes later, they were searching Michelli's house. Sara motioned towards the staircase, "You go upstairs, and I'll work down here."

"Okay, call if you need anything." Greg said, wincing when Sara gave him a harsh look, "Sorry, didn't mean to baby you...how about...Race you?"

"You're on, Sanders."

Sara squatted next to the coffee table, yawning as she dusted for prints, adding what she found to a stack of ones she had already collected. She glanced down at her watch, frowning as she realized that it had stopped. She slid it off of her wrist, dropping it into her kit, wincing at the sound it made when it contacted the metal bottom. She was relieved to know that Victor Michelli was absent from the residence, because the sheer noise of listening to him complain would have driven her head to explode with the headache she had.

She heard a crash upstairs, and she rose to her feet, calling out shakily, "Greg?"

Footsteps came racing down the stairs, and Sara relaxed a bit. The officer had cleared the scene, and it sounded like Greg was in a hurry, so the worst possible scenario was that he dropped or broke something. That wasn't her problem, that was the city's problem at this point.

"What did you do, Greg?" she called out, wincing as her voice echoed in her aching head. She started to turn, but stopped as she felt cold metal contact her neck.

"Make one move, and I'll blow your brains out."

TBC