Chapter 6: Running Smoothly

"The course of true love never did run smooth." Shakespeare

He was kissing her.

He had actually kissed her. He had broken through the barrier they had constructed between them and had become physical with her.

His lips were moist against her chapped ones and while it certainly felt foreign…part of her admitted that it also felt nice. It had been so long since they had been close like this and while she gave the impression of the confident, never acquiescing ice queen, it was rather…pleasant to be loved once again.

If that's what you could call it, she added somewhat bitterly. This was, after all, her ex and she had already gone down that path. She already let him in once and the consequences of that were well known. She couldn't let him take control of her, like she had once allowed.

But…everyone needs some form of comfort, right? And here he was offering it to her, with a hint of something more. The only question was if this 'something more' would turn into the deadly viper their first relationship had.

She had learned her lesson.

She knew now that she wasn't made for long-term relationships or a marriage or a family. Too bad that she had had to go through seven and a half years of torture to learn.

Was it really torture?

Sure, there had been bad times- lots of them in the recent months. But at the beginning, when it had just been her and Greg- things had been fun. She had liked those times, when they were on their own and free of worries. But then she let Greg talk her into getting pregnant and the happy 'fairy tale' had disappeared.

Been crushed, by the evil witch.

The evil witch, by the name of Sara Evelyn Sanders nee Sidle.

She hadn't meant to be a horrible mom. But regardless of her intentions, fate had held a different path for her. And after awhile, as her confidence was destroyed bit by bit, she began to take on a certain disregard for it all- her children, her parenting abilities, her marriage. So she stuck to the things she knew- forensics and the ability to be utterly alone and to revel in her solitude.

She hadn't wanted to ruin it all.

But she had and she couldn't take it back.

Walking into Lissy's sixth birthday party- after everyone had gone home, because she was seven hours too late- had been the eye-opener. She realized how shitty she was being to her daughter and her husband and even to her son, who probably didn't even recognize her. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't, at least. So she started a fight, because it was something she knew she could do, something she wouldn't have to worry about failing in. And then she left- or at least tried to. Yet she had let Greg talk her into staying for at least a little bit more, while she retreated even more into her soulless shell, trying to hang on, trying to make appearances and have everything seem happy-dandy fine. Which nothing was, but no one would believe her.

She just wasn't capable of a relationship. She wasn't capable of being part of a family. Her own family had been horribly screwed-up. Her foster families weren't that much better and she was bounced through the system like a ping-pong ball, until her aunt and uncle finally got out of their hippy flower-child stage- in 1987, she might add, and took her in- if it could even be called that. And then she had gone to Harvard and gotten married- yes, it had been a mistake and yes, it had only lasted about three months and no, she didn't want to talk about it- and proved that marriage was a horrible mistake. Then came Grissom, and she spent over sixteen years pining for a man who was an emotional vacuum. And she gave up on relationships.

Then Greg had convinced her to give him a chance. And she realized that, hey, relationships might not be that bad after all. Until she screwed that one up- ended up screwing up two children as well- and realized that she finally had her proof that relationships and she did not mix, thank you very much.

But now, she had lost her daughter and she was suddenly faced with feeling she hadn't felt in, well, years. She wanted to be a mom again, on some primal level, even though her head and heart both were warning her away.

And now Greg was kissing her.

She didn't know what to make of it.

She was a scientist- but this wasn't something she could analyze, no matter how she tried. And when Greg deepened the kiss, opening his mouth and compelled her to open hers- she did, regardless of what the consequences might be.

Screw the consequences.

The kiss couldn't go anywhere good, and after it ended- wherever it ended- they were still going to be stuck with the aftermath. There was so much between her and Greg- and it wasn't all daises and roses. Roses have thorns, after all. And the argument- extremely heated fight, more likely- they had just had proved that things were nowhere close to being okay or on the way to getting there.

So why wasn't she pushing him away? Why was she kissing back, reveling in the sensations as he left her lips to trail down her neck? Why was she pulling him closer, instead of moving away?

Because I'm human, she finally decided. And wasn't that the start of it all? She had tried to become 'super-mom' and had failed miserably. Instead of asking for help, she had refused it. Instead of taking the time off of work, she wanted to prove (to Grissom) that being married and having a kid didn't mean anything in the long run- she still was capable of working and doing everything else she used to before she had let her husband knock her up. This- this family thing- it didn't matter. She could handle both.

But she hadn't and she had had to push one to the side. She had had to decide whether motherhood or her job meant the most to her- which she needed to spend the most time at. And since Greg was already handling the fatherhood thing so damn well and since everyone already had begun to think that she wasn't doing that great of job as a mom- well, the choice had looked simple.

Too bad she had chosen the wrong one.

And too bad it was too late for her to see it.

She couldn't fool herself any longer. She and Greg needed to talk- not this intimacy, which while feeling great, didn't really help matters any- and they needed to talk soon.

Of course, with Lissy missing, the chances of that happening were slim to none.

She had committed the biggest screw-up- she had let her daughter get kidnapped. Forget the statistics and the logical knowledge that there was nothing she could have done. Just accept the fact that it was her fault and her fault alone and let her beg for forgiveness- except that she couldn't.

She didn't know how to.

Which was also one huge problem.

Face it, Sidle, you're one huge problem.

And…that was it, wasn't it?

It was simple. She was a failure.

And when the doorbell rang and brought them both back to reality and Greg turned red and started to stammer about the door before running off to get it, she just stood there in their former bedroom, the bedroom they had consummated their marriage in as well as conceived at least one of their children in (she wasn't too sure about Eirik) - the walls began to crumble.

And she collapsed in a pile of self-contempt, self-pity and abandon, as she wept for all that had been, all that was and all that was to come.

He thundered down the stairs, actively trying to push the last minutes out of his mind. He was a complete and utter idiot. He considered bashing his head against the wall, but he knew that one, it wouldn't help him any and two, he didn't need the headache. He already had enough of one…

"I work here! Let me in, just tell Mr. Sanders that-" He heard the agitated voice as he entered the foyer and it was clear to him who it was. Apparently in all the haste and confusion, no one thought to call Nora Jameson, the baby-sitter, and tell her what happened.

Not to mention that Brass would want to interview her. He hadn't been in the room while Brass had interviewed Sara, but he figured that she had left out mentioning Nora. It wasn't that surprising- Sara had little contact with the young woman who took care of the children while he was at work. And Brass would probably be by soon to ask for a list of anyone who had contact with the children. It was usually one of the first things asked of the parents, but as they all knew, this wasn't your normal kidnapping. And things had been done out of order or not done at all.

Nora was a petite five feet, currently had dark blue hair, straight and going half way down her back. She also had blue eyes- that matched her hair- pale skin and was dressed completely in black, from the cotton blouse with billowing sleeves to the full lacy skirt to her black platform suede boots. She had one ear pierced with various earrings, the other ear holding only one earring and she also wore a silver chain with a few charms on it. Nora was, to put it simply, a character- but Greg didn't care. She was good with the children and they loved her and that was really all that mattered.

Oh, and the fact that when Greg had ran her fingerprints through AFIS and her DNA through CODIS nothing popped up.

The three officers were crowding the doorway, refusing her entry and Greg could tell that she was quite annoyed. Sighing, he spoke up. "Officers, it's all right. I need to talk to her."

"Captain Brass is already on his way," Officer James mentioned. "And he said to keep her out until her identity could be verified."

"Consider her identity verified," Greg said, moving towards the door, and grabbing the woman through the police officers. "We'll be in the living room."

Nora just stared at him in shock as he herded her through the unyielding human police barrier and into the living room. But she sat down when he bade her to and she stayed silent until he spoke.

This was not going to be fun at all.

"Nora, as you know, Sara took the kids for a few hours this morning." His voice was grave, but as he mentioned Sara, his mind immediately flew to the woman currently in the bedroom and the kiss. Damn it, do not think of that…

"Well sure, Mr. Sanders. It's just after two and since no one called, I went to her apartment to pick them up, but they weren't there. Then I came here." She smiled hesitantly at him. "Is there something wrong? Did I mess up?"

"No," he tried to smile at her- but failed. "It's nothing that you did. It's nothing that anyone did, really. Sara took the children to the park and-" He found he couldn't go on. He was choking, unable to speak the words. It had been hard- but manageable- to talk about it to their friends and co-workers. They were involved in the case anyways. But to speak of it to someone else not actively involved in the investigation… That made it real.

It couldn't be real.

He had been able to face the facts when presented with them, and he had been able to deal with talking about it, only because part of him was still insisting that it wasn't real- that it wasn't Lissy, but someone else- just another case. Because, in a way, that's all it was. He had been there when the case had been assigned a number. He had been there when Grissom handed out the assignment and called Nick and him in from the B&E turned 419. He had been there for the initial briefing and the case had run as any other case would, with a trip to the scene.

And then the bottom had fallen out and he was sent into an abyss of despair and second-guessing and horror and all those other things he didn't dare think about. But he was able to semi-cling to the walls- the horrible looking sharp and rough walls that tore at his hands- simply because part of him wouldn't believe it. It was his saving grace to believe that it was nothing more than a mistake and that it didn't really mean anything.

Oh how wrong he was…

And now, faced with the black infinity of the abyss as the sides turned into smooth stone that wouldn't allow any hold- it was real. Either face the bottom or fall forever.

Neither seemed appetizing.

But he didn't really have a choice…

"Rosalind Sanders has been kidnapped and the police are actively pursuing the case." Officer James interrupted, when Greg didn't continue. He figured that the officer meant well, noticing his distress and deciding to give him a break. But if the distraught look on Nora's face was any indicator, the police woman's remark hadn't helped any.

"Lissy was kidnapped?" Her hands flew up to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. "My God, what happened? When? Is she all right? Where's Eirik, is he doing okay? Is there anything I can do?"

"Calm down, Nora," Greg finally spoke. "Sara took the two of them to the park and while Lissy was on the swings, she was taken. It happened around noon, we don't know if she's all right and Eirik is doing fine. He's asleep upstairs. As for anything you can do- just answer the detective's questions when he arrives." He listed the information, trying to keep his tone normal. It was all he could do to refrain from breaking down himself.

The sitter's tears slowed and she began to fiddle with her necklace- something Greg noticed she did when concentrating. "She'll be okay," he found himself reassuring her, although deep down he knew that it was anything but true. She wouldn't be okay, not after being kidnapped. Even if she wasn't harmed at all physically, there was still going to be emotional damage.

Patting the woman on the shoulder, he sighed and faced another officer, one he wasn't sure of the name of. "I'll be upstairs," he muttered, and left. It wasn't until he was on the stairs that his mind added on 'with Sara'- the mere thought that made him begin to flush red again.

Perhaps he hadn't cleared his mind of the previous encounter so well.

And perhaps he didn't want to.

Before leaving for the Sanders residence, Brass had plopped the finished sketch of their current suspect in Warrick's hands. Now the man was staring at the digital image on the computer screen. Frowning, he began to work it.

He added in brown as the hair color, his mind seeing a darker shade than normal. He also filled in the pale skin color, the blue eyes he knew fit. He also adjusted the clothing, adjusted the hair style and cut and then saved the image.

He knew the man.

And he had a very bad feeling.

"Archie?" He called out, and the lab tech appeared almost instantly, leaning over his shoulder.

"What do you need?"

Warrick got up and the computer expert replaced him at the computer. "I need you to run this for me, through past cases. I recognize this guy, but I don't remember who he is. Just that I know he's been involved in some case before."

"Sure thing," the tech said, and started his magic. Warrick retreated to do some other work- while he hadn't found anything in the bathroom, he knew that Grissom had collected an assortment of dead birds and one of them had a blue fiber on them. But when he checked in with Hodges, the man had simply explained that he was still running the fiber and he wouldn't know anything for at least another hour.

A bit shaken, Warrick returned to the AV lab. Hodges had been almost pleasant, which was certainly abnormal. Then again, the entire lab knew Lissy and when Ecklie of all people announced that she was missing and that the case had highest priority, no one had argued. They were all shaken up.

"Found anything yet?" Warrick called, as he entered. Archie was hunched over, his fingers running over the keys.

"No, noth- wait a second…" Typing in a rapid sequence of letters, a grin of triumph erupted on his face. "Got him."

Warrick bent over to peer at the screen. "Derek Pruden. Knew he looked familiar. But call up his sheet- there's something fishy about this."

"Already on it," Archie replied and with a flick of the mouse, his sheet was displayed. Derek Pruden, it read, DOB March 13th 1966. Warrick skipped to the bottom of the screen, where the pertinent information was displayed. And narrowed his eyes as he reached for his cell phone and made a call.

"Officer, I need to speak to Lieutenant Cox, yes, thank you. Has Miss Carver, the witness in the Sanders case left yet? Oh, yes, right. Do you have the contact details on her? Okay. Will do. Thank you." He hung up, glowering as he replaced the phone on his belt.

Archie was staring at him worriedly. "The witness still there?"

"No," Warrick said, fighting his response to slam his fist on the desk. "I've got to get a hold of Vartann," he named, the other detective who was actively working the case. "We've got one hell of a problem." He stalked out the door, and then turned back to face Archie. "Make sure he's still there," he said, nodding at the computer screen. "But otherwise, we were played real well."

Archie nodded and turned back to the screen as Warrick left. Displayed on the bottom of the screen were the words: currently incarcerated in Clark County Penetentiary.