Okay, so here's the third chapter of this wonderful fic. Still not owning CSI, despite the many attempts I've made. Darn.

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Sara ran all the way home. She wondered what would happen if her father was already there? Would he still be mad? She couldn't bare it if he was at home, taking it out on her mother. Not for something that in a way, was her own fault. Her father had asked her to come right home everyday and spend her time studying. How else could she pass the course?

She figured, if she'd talked to her father, and let him know where she was, and that she was getting extra instruction from one of her professors, that he wouldn't have minded. She should have done that from the beginning, but she was so excited about the possibility of learning more, that she took the chance and was just going to explain later.

Coming up her to her door, she listened for the sound of her father. Nothing. Maybe he wasn't there after all. He did say he had other plans, did he not? She tried for the door and it was unlocked, so she stepped in and took a quick look around.

"I thought I told you not to show up here tonight," her father said, from his place in favorite recliner. "Though I kinda figured you would." He gave her a wink, and motioned for her to come closer. She complied. He got to his feet, and stepped a little too close into her space. "So, your teacher… he at least teach you anything useful?"

"Yeah," Sara said, excitedly as she remembered her conversation with Mr. Grissom. "He taught me all about how to process a scene and-"

He slapped her across the face. Hard. "How the hell is that useful to me?" Her father reached out and started to caress the red mark that was already starting to form on her face. "I thought you might have picked up a new thing or two. You know," he said suggestively, "something the two of us could try out later."

She took a step back. "Daddy no…"

"You ungrateful little bitch!" He took a step towards her, again, invading her space.

"It wasn't like that. All we did was talk."

"Bullshit!" He grabbed a handful of her hair, and dragged her toward his bedroom.

"Please Daddy!" She cried out, the tears coming to her eyes.

"You don't have to beg," he said with an evil laugh. "But if I knew you wanted it that badly, I've have done this more often."

"No!" She fought him with all she had, but it really had no effect. Instead, she just ended up being thrown onto her father's bed, and witnessed the sadistic smile, growing ever so slightly.

That's when she heard it. A knock at the door.

Both heads turned towards the noise.

"You say one word, and you are good as dead!" He snapped.

She went to speak, and he saw it coming, so he landed a punch hard on her jaw to shut her up. He grabbed the roll of duct tape that he kept on his nightstand for times like these, and pulled at the tape, and grabbed for her head. He quickly maneuvered the tape three full times around her head, effectively cutting off any cries for help she may have had. He then forced a knee into her back to keep her from moving while he did the same to her wrists.

Another knock at the door. He could here a muffled voice coming through the wood, but couldn't make out just what they were saying. Quickly he secured her ankles, and then made his way out of the room, locking it from the outside.

When he opened his front door, he saw the teacher he'd met that afternoon, and beside him was a cop. The father feigned sleepiness, even adding a yawn before saying, "Sorry, I was asleep. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we are looking for your daughter," the cop said.

"That makes two of us, she isn't here…" the father replied.

Mr. Grissom took his chance to speak up, "Do you always look for your loved ones while you are sleeping?" He knew the act was just that, an act. He was in the business long enough to spot a lie, especially when it was so badly constructed.

"Look, I'm tired, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"May we have a quick look inside?" The cop questioned.

"You got a warrant?"

"No."

"Then come back when you do."

Just as the father was closing the door, the visitors heard a banging coming from deep inside the house. The cop quickly, reached out his arm and prevented the door from closing.

"Sara?" Mr. Grissom called out.

More banging.

"Sir," the cop began, "I'm going to have to ask you to step aside."

"No warrant, no entry," the father said smugly.

"Sir, there is a perceived threat, which means a warrant isn't necessary." The cop took a serious tone. "And if you don't move aside, I'm going to have to arrest you."

The father took a couple steps back, and waved the cop in. "Be my guest, but the crooked teacher stays outside."

The cop stepped in, while Mr. Grissom just looked at him like the insect he was.

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Well, I'm going to leave it there for now. I'm getting the five minute warning for dinner. Hope you are enjoying it so far.