SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 6 ~

A/N1: My apologies for the gap between postings, it's been ridiculously busy here over the past few weeks and finding time to put this chapter together hasn't been easy but the good news is that all of that should be done with come this Friday so I ought to have a little more free time on my hands from here on out.

PLEASE NOTE: THANKS TO A PRETTY MAJOR HICCUP THAT THE SITE EXPERIENCED LAST MONTH THAT RESULTED IN CHAPTER ALERTS NOT BEING SENT OUT, SOME OF YOU MAY NOT HAVE READ CHAPTER 5 OF THIS STORY AND, SINCE IT CONTAINS A PARTICULAR PIECE OF INFORMATION THAT'S SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT TO THE REST OF SLOW BURN, YOU MAY WANT TO CHECK IT BEFORE CONTINUING ON WITH THIS ONE. :)

It had been a long morning but a satisfying one and, hoisting a sleeping Ben carefully out of his car seat, Sara breathed a sigh of relief knowing that their seemingly constant running around was almost at an end. With settlement on the Anthem house only three days away and final decisions on paint schemes and kitchen tiles now made, everything was set for the house to be handed over to the contractors first thing Monday morning and then, provided all went according to plan, they'd be moving in themselves in a little over a fortnight's time.

"I was going to get him." Having detoured momentarily to unlock the door that led from the garage to the house, Grissom rounded the back of the SUV and frowned at the sight of his wife cradling their currently dead-weight toddler. "You said your back was sore last night, I don't want you hurting yourself by lifting him."

"He weighs next to nothing," she countered, adjusting the little boy slightly over the curve of her now obvious bump. "But, even if he didn't, I'd still carry him in; besides, according to everything I've read, backache is par for the course for the next four and a half months or so." She smiled almost ingenuously. "And there's also the fact that if I'm getting Ben settled that means you're stuck putting the groceries away."

"Stubborn or devious?" Grissom narrowed his eyes as his mouth quirked up into an easy smile. "I still haven't made up my mind on that one."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to do that while you're unpacking all those bags." She cocked her head in the direction of the open garage door. "And you might want to check the mail before you start; I'm pretty sure there's something in the box."

"I'm leaning towards devious now." With his key fob in hand, Grissom pressed a button and stepped out of the way as the Nissan's tailgate slowly began to rise.

"Good, that's the one I would have gone with too." With a chuckle to herself, Sara stepped around him and quickly made her way into the kitchen.

The house was cool and quiet, a welcome change after the noise of the supermarket that they'd battled their way through. With Halloween less than a week away, the number of customers intent on filling their trolleys with nothing but over-the-top decorations and candy had amazed her. She rubbed her hand rhythmically around Ben's back as she carried him along the hallway to his room and made a pledge – to herself that she'd do everything in her power not to turn into that kind of parent. As a young child she remembered enjoying the celebration and superstition of the day but, as with a lot of things now, much of the fun had been lost to both commercialisation and an almost rabid competition for the best costumes and decorations and that was one particular road she simply wasn't interested in going down.

Pushing open the bedroom door with her foot, she placed Ben gently on top of his Paw Patrol comforter, slipped his sneakers off his feet and draped a chenille throw lightly over the top of him. The nocturnal visits to his parent's room had all but disappeared with his move into a twin-size bed and Sara smiled to herself as she mentally ticked off yet another milestone in the little boy's life. She'd never really expected to be a mother but now she revelled in the role with every single achievement of Ben's filling her with both joy and wonder and, she thought as she placed both hands over the swell of her abdomen, with his sibling on the way, she was more than a little excited at the prospect of what was to come.

Backing quietly out of the room, she left the door ajar and entered her own, gratefully toeing off the shoes she'd been dying to lose for the past hour or so; after being on her feet for most of the last four hours, both her feet and legs were feeling a little the worse for wear. Crossing over to the dresser, she was smoothing her windswept hair into some semblance of order when she caught sight of the bed behind her and frowned; she'd been the last one to leave the room before they departed and she was sure that the bed had been perfectly made but now the top two pillowcases were gone.

She turned on the spot and stared at the king size bed; the duvet in its teal paisley cover was just as she'd left it, as were the rear pillows but the front two had been stripped of their cases and, for the life of her, she couldn't imagine why. She scanned the room but found no sign of them and, perplexed by the entire affair, she was just about to call out to her husband when he beat her to it.

"Sara?"

She'd heard him say her name in all manner of ways over the years – anger, exasperation, concern, love, passion – but she'd never heard it said in that particular tone before and it, on top the mystery of the missing bedding, instantly set her on edge.

She crossed to the open doorway and listened for noise, some steps perhaps or the rustle of a grocery bag as it was emptied of its contents however there was nothing but the selfsame silence that she'd experienced when she entered from the garage and her unease grew.

"Sara…" The call came again, the timbre and cadence still a little off to her ear. "Could you come through to the kitchen, honey? There's something you need to see."

She exhaled audibly, relief rushing through her at the words; she'd found things out of place and so, she surmised, had Grissom. Clearly someone had been in the house during their absence although who that might be and what on earth they thought they were up to she couldn't even begin to guess at.

"Sara!" His tone was more insistent now and, guessing that he was becoming frustrated by her continued silence, she stepped out into the hallway and hurriedly made her way back to the kitchen.

She saw what the urgency was the moment she entered the room.

The intruder was a giant or, at least, he looked that way to her.

Standing beside the dining room table he was dressed completely in black with his face obscured by a dark ski mask and that, coupled with his height was frightening enough but it was the iron-like grip he had on her husband's neck and the large handgun he held flush to his temple that caused her to freeze on the spot.

"Come all the way in, Sara." The voice was calm and controlled and instantly familiar. "Don't just stand there in the doorway."

She knew it was him, knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the same man who had taken her that day.

"I'm sorry, honey…" Trying desperately to make eye contact, Grissom tried turning towards her only to grimace in pain as the fingers digging into his flesh tightened their hold. "He was in here when I got back with the mail."

"Actually I've been here for hours." Thanks to the ski mask, Sara couldn't see the satisfied grin that accompanied the words but she knew it was there nonetheless. "I waited in the living room until I knew both of you were inside and then I made my presence known." He stared across at Sara. "I told you to come in, Sara; I'm going to need your assistance and you can hardly give it to me from there."

"What…" Her voice was shaky, shock and fear making her sound weak and helpless and that was something she definitely did not want him to think so she hurriedly cleared her throat and tried again. "What do you want?"

"Nothing much." Clearly surprised by the display of bravado, he tilted his head as he studied her from across the room. "Let's just say it's something of a house call; I wanted to touch base with you but I also need to speak to your husband." Dragging his attention away from Sara, he glared at his tightly held captive for a moment before looking back at her. "I think he needs to know where we all stand, don't you?"

"I know where we all stand." Desperate to get his captor attention away from his wife, Grissom tried his hardest to pull free of the hand gripping his neck only to have the fingers tighten further still as the handgun shifted from his temple to the back of his head.

"Now that was probably the dumbest move you could have made." Despite the circumstances, there was a hint of humour in both the voice and the eyes that stared triumphantly down at Grissom. "Sara?" He cocked his chin in the direction of the front of the house. "Go through there and get my backpack for me, please, and then you can pull one of the dining chairs over here and we'll see if we can make your husband a little more comfortable than he currently is."

Afraid of what might happen if she failed to comply, Sara made her way to the living room and quickly located the bag that had been stashed out of sight down the side of one of the sofas. She carried it back, re-entering the kitchen just in time to watch Grissom being manhandled into the middle of the room and she hurriedly pulled one of the timber chairs free and dragged it across to the space directly behind him.

"Take a seat, Gil." With a hand now clamped around his throat, Grissom's eyes rose to meet those of the man standing before him as he was unceremoniously pushed down onto the chair. "I don't really plan on being here long but I think we'll all feel a little better about things if you're not in a position to try and fight me." He looked over at Sara. "Open the bag and get the duct tape; I need to make sure he's not going anywhere."

"I know you, don't I?" Despite the pain that was now erupting through his trachea, Grissom smiled knowingly at the man holding him down. "We've met before."

"You're right, we have."

His attention shifting dismissively from Grissom to Sara, the intruder beckoned her closer to the chair.

"I think we'll start around the back." He paused a moment until she was in place behind her husband then stepped back from the chair, the barrel of the gun levelled squarely at his prisoner's chest. "I want both wrists bound behind him and his ankles taped to the chair." He watched as she freed the starting edge of the tape. "And after that you can loop it around his body a few times so he's totally secure." Catching her eye, his voice hardened. "And I want it tight, Sara; if he gets free it will not bode well for you or the boy."

The mention of Ben sent a chill down Sara's spine and she nodded her acquiescence as she tore off a lengthy piece of tape. Reaching out, she took Grissom's hand, not at all surprised at the quick reassuring squeeze he gave her fingers, and then guided it to the back of the chair before reaching for its twin and binding both tightly behind him. Moving round to the front, she knelt and secured his legs before standing once again and running the tape completely around both his chest and the chair three times.

"Good." A large hand on her shoulder made her step backwards and she watched as their captor tested her handiwork. "Now a piece across his mouth, I think," he glanced back at Sara as his tone took on an almost teasing quality. "You want to do it or shall I?"

"I will!" Loath to have him any nearer her husband than he had to be, Sara pulled the final piece of duct tape free of the roll before leaning in with tear-filled eyes. "I'm so sorry; this is my entire fault."

"No it's not." Locking eyes with her, Grissom tried desperately to assuage the guilt that his wife so obviously felt. "There's only one person to blame for all this and it's not you." He nodded towards the tape in her hand and offered her a small smile. "Just do as he says, honey; everything'll be fine, you'll see."

She moved forward, pressing the tape firmly across his lips as she stared imploringly into the bright blue eyes she knew so well just as two large hands reached past her and pulled one of the missing pillowcases down to completely cover Grissom's head and face.

"Okay, if that doesn't hold him nothing will. Here…" From the tone of his voice he was clearly pleased with both their efforts and a shiver ran down Sara's spine at the thought as the backpack was thrust into her empty hands. "Bring this with you; we're going back to the bedroom."

The words wrought a muffled, agonised cry out of Grissom and, turning in surprise, Sara watched as he thrashed against the tape that bound him but a sudden sharp jab to the side of his head stopped the struggle instantly and the gun that just connected with her husband's skull swung quickly around to point at her.

"Don't make me hurt both of you, Sara." For the first time since he'd appeared, a hint of uncertainty sounded in the intruder's voice and Sara pulled her attention away from Grissom's now still form and back to the man beside her. "It's not going to end well for anyone if you do."

She nodded her understanding, knowing in her heart that she was the only one that could get them out of this now and, regardless of what that may entail, that was precisely what Sara intended to do. Taking the bag by one of its straps, she let it fall to her side and then, with a final look back at her clearly unconscious husband, left the kitchen and led the small procession back to the master bedroom.

"Get on the bed."

"No, please…" Backing away as much as the room allowed, Sara vehemently shook her head.

"Relax, okay?" His voice softened slightly and reaching out, he grabbed hold of her arm. "Despite what your husband may think, I have absolutely no interest in raping you." He tugged her back to the side of the large bed. "In fact, the thought of sex with a pregnant woman disgusts me so you have nothing to fear on that front." Shifting his hand to the middle of her back, he pushed her forward until she had no choice but to climb onto the bed. "I just need to separate the two of you for a while and the quicker you cooperate, the quicker I'll leave you in peace." Lying as rigidly as possible on top of the duvet, Sara watched him warily as he seemed to study her intently.

"Okay, I think on your side is probably going to be best."

She felt the heavy weight of the gun settle on the bed beside her head and flinched in fear as two hands slipped beneath her flank and guided her over to face the room's far wall.

"Yes, I think that'll make things easier for both of us."

He kept one hand on her hip, holding her in place as he rummaged through the backpack and Sara listened closely as she tried to come up with some way to gain the upper hand.

"Why are you doing this?" She'd been determined not to speak to him anymore than was absolutely necessary but the question tripped out of her almost unbidden, her subconscious clearly desperate for some sort of explanation for what seemed to her to be an unprovoked attack on her family. "Why us? What have we done to you?"

"Do I really have to tell you?" Pulling the packaging from a new roll of duct tape, he tossed the cellophane wrapping onto the bed beside her and pulled both of her hands behind her back. "After all that we've been through together, surely I don't have to explain."

She felt the tape looping around her wrists, not as tightly as she'd wound Grissom's but uncomfortable nonetheless and she winced in discomfort as he manhandled her until she was face-up once again.

"I'm going to tape your legs now but, without something to attach you to, I'm really not sure how secure it's going to be so you and I are going to have to come to an agreement about trust, okay?" Pulling a long length of the tape free, he crossed one of her ankles over the other and quickly strapped them up before pressing a final piece across her mouth just as she had done a short while earlier to Grissom. "If you promise to lie here and not try and get free for at least fifteen minutes, I'll promise not go next door and visit your son; do we have a deal?"

Watching him closely, she saw the way his eyes had flashed darkly at the mention of Ben and she hurriedly nodded her agreement.

"Good girl." Stepping slightly back from the bed, he quickly retrieved the gun and slipped it into the backpack before pulling out the other missing pillowcase.

"Now…" Sara watched as he shook the fabric out and opened the mouth of it before leaning in towards her. "I need some time to talk to your husband so, when I leave this room, I want you to start counting." She closed her eyes as he slipped the pillowcase over her head and firmly tugged it down until the excess material was resting on her shoulders. "There's nine hundred seconds in fifteen minutes and I want you to count each and every one of them before you try and get free. Agreed?"

Unable to speak, she nodded as much as her position would allow and then held her breath as she heard him backing his way towards the bedroom door.

"I mean it, Sara." She heard a rustling noise and imagined him shifting the backpack from one hand to the other as he watched her. "You appear any sooner than that and you won't like the way this is going to end."

She lay there, unmoving far longer than the fifteen minutes that he'd demanded. The shock of the day's events and the fear of his sudden reappearance kept her pinned to the bed for over half an hour but, eventually, both the absolute silence of the house around her and a creeping conviction that he was long gone from the scene allowed her to begin to twist and turn her arms and legs enough to loosen the adhesive ties that bound her.

Stripping the duct tape from her hands, she quickly pulled the pillowcase off her head and peeled the sticky plastic strip from her mouth before she blinked myopically in the mid-afternoon sunlight that permeated the bedroom. She sat for a moment, partly to get her proper bearings and partly to listen once again for noises but there were none and, kicking her feet free from the final remnants of tape, she swung her legs off the bed, crossed the room to the open doorway and then entered the hallway beyond.

The door to Ben's room was still slightly open and, slowly swinging it wide, she allowed herself a sigh of relief at the sight of the still sleeping boy curled up on his bed.

Backing silently away from the door, she pressed herself against the far wall and continued edging her way down the short corridor. He was long gone from the house now, she was certain of that; it all felt so normal now, as though his presence was gone and she felt herself begin to relax again as she moved to stand in the kitchen doorway.

Grissom was in exactly the same position he'd been in when she'd been forced to leave him. Slumped in the chair as much as the tape holding him would allow, his pillowcase-covered head, was down, his chin obviously resting on his chest and from her position, Sara could just make out the small bloodstain that marked the place where their attacker's gun had made contact with his skull.

"Gil?"

Hurrying around to the front of the chair, she reached first for his hand, worry escalating in her at the feel of his lax fingers in hers.

"Come on, baby; let me know you're okay."

She squeezed his hand, trying to gauge his level of consciousness but got no response and tried to quell her rising panic as she reached for the pillowcase. It pulled free instantly, allowing her a perfect view of the dime-sized bruise that marked his temple and the thin trickle of blood that had run from it.

"Come on, Grissom; don't do this to me!"

She tossed the pillowcase to the floor and cupped his jaw in both hands, gently raising his head in order to get a clear look at his face but, instead, found herself staring into her husband's fixed and lifeless eyes.

A/N2: Thanks, as always, goes to SylvieT. :)