SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 23 ~

The unexpected knock on the door startled her and, after glancing over at her clearly oblivious son, Sara put down the towel she was in the midst of folding and made her way towards the front of the house.

"Greg!" Eyes widening in surprise, she stared at her visitor. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in court today."

"I was." Striding past her, he shrugged his shoulders. "I got there an hour early to go over things with the prosecutor, sat outside the court for another hour waiting to be called and then the guy decided to change his plea to guilty. I guess it finally sank into that moronic skull of his that the evidence was going to bury him. Anyway…" He shook his head as if to clear it and held out his hand. "I thought I'd drop this around; you left it in the break room."

"My jacket," Sara chuckled as she took it from him. "I looked everywhere for that."

"I was going to leave it on your desk for you but you're not that far out of my way so I decided to stop by." He held up the large envelope he was also carrying. "It was also the perfect excuse to bring this." He cocked his head towards the sounds of Paw Patrol emanating from the living room. "I'm going to guess that's not Grissom."

"No, it's definitely not," Sara chuckled. "Lily called last night to tell us that her neighbor has come down with the flu so Ben's playdate's been cancelled." She shrugged nonchalantly. "She was more than happy to still take him for the day but I decided to play it safe; the last thing we need around here is another bout of sickness."

Leading him towards the kitchen, she tossed her jacket over the back of the sectional as she passed, an act that was completely ignored by Ben. "He's got a couple of favorite shows at the moment but this is the current 'do not disturb' one so don't expect too much out of him until the end."

"Well, he's got his father's intensity, that's for sure." Watching the toddler's total immersion in the television, Greg grinned. "Between that and the fact that he's a miniature carbon copy, there's no doubting that's Gil Grissom's kid."

"True," Sara agreed, "and that intensity is something I count on when it comes to getting stuff done around here without interruption…" she gestured towards the large basket on the granite island, "… like laundry, for example." She held up the glass of soda she'd been drinking. "Want one?"

"Sure." Greg nodded as he took a seat at the dining table. "So, Grissom's working today?"

"Nope, he and Jim are picking up their outfits for the wedding." Heading for the refrigerator, Sara glanced at the clock. "All going well, he should be home around lunch time."

"And your scan the other day? I never got a chance to ask how that went."

"It was good; I'm not sure Ben completely understands that what he was watching on the monitor is going to be coming home with him soon but he seemed interested in everything that was going on." Having poured a glass of soda for her guest she topped up her own before carrying both across to the table. "The due date is probably going to be moved a little closer, my doctor's leaning towards inducing at thirty-eight weeks instead of letting me go full-term; apparently that's not all that uncommon with older mothers."

"But everything's okay, right?"

"Everything's fine," Sara assured him. "It's just precautionary; in his words, he thinks 'it's better to undercook than overcook when the mom is getting on a bit.'" She smiled and shrugged. "He's not the most tactful of people but he is one of the best obstetricians in Vegas so if that's the way he thinks we ought to go then we're all for it." She patted her belly. "If nothing else, it means we'll get to meet this one a little sooner than we thought."

"Good," Greg nodded, "that's good."

His fingers fiddled with the corner of the envelope he'd placed on the table beside him and, noting his somewhat distracted air, Sara nodded towards it.

"So, what have you got for me?"

"I, um," pulling the envelope closer, Greg cleared his throat before continuing. "I was hoping you might be able to help me out with something; well, we're hoping actually, it was Catherine's idea to bring this with me." He shrugged. "I really wasn't sure about asking you to do it at all especially since you've already said you don't remember anything but we're kind of at a standstill at the moment so," extracting half a dozen photos from the envelope, he fanned them out across the table, "I'd really appreciate it if you could take a look at these."

"Photos of your suspect."

"Yeah, I'm sorry but, apart from the deputy in Texas, you're the only one we know of that's had a decent look at the guy's face."

"And the cop doesn't remember anything?"

Greg shook his head. "No, not a thing."

"So what makes you think that I'd be any different?" Sara crossed her arms defensively in front of her. "I was drugged too, remember."

"I know but according to Doc Robbins, some people who've been sedated with Midazolam might be completely memory free immediately afterwards but, given time, begin to recall bits and pieces about things they experienced before the drug wore off. I'm hoping that might be the case with you, it's been a few months now and-"

"You think I haven't tried to remember?"

Her tone was accusatory and Greg quickly shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure you have but sometimes it takes something more than just trying to jog your memory, you know that." He slid a couple of the photos closer to her. "I know you've seen some of these before but if you could just take another-"

Music sounded from the television and, standing, Ben turned to look for his mother, his face breaking into a delighted grin when he saw who else was sitting at the table.

"Kwek!"

Rounding the modular at a run, he hurried across and almost threw himself at their guest.

"Hey, Benny." Lifting the little boy up and sitting him on the edge of the table to face him, Greg smiled happily. "How you been?"

"Good," Ben swung his arm back, his finger pointing at the large TV. "Watch Paw 'trol!"

"I saw that but I guess it's finished now, huh?" Greg grinned at the solemnly nodded reply. "So, which one's your favorite?"

"Zuma."

"And what does Zuma do?"

"Him swim," Ben told him proudly.

"He swims?" Greg widened his eyes in mock amazement. "Wow, that's one pretty cool pup." His hand shot out as Ben reached for the photo nearest beside him. "Uh-uh, those are for Mommy to look at." Gathering the rest of them together, he pushed them towards Sara. "Which is what she's going to do right now, right Mom?"

"I guess so." Reluctantly pulling the photos closer, Sara spread them out in a line before her, her eyes flicking briefly from one to another but never really lingering on any of them. She didn't need to see them to know it was him just as she didn't need to see them to know that there was nothing she could tell her colleague.

In her mind she could see the white van parked next to her in the mall parking lot, she could see the driver exit his vehicle and make his way across to hers, she could see his tall form bend to look in her open window and could even see his hand come up to point something at her but that was all she could see; she couldn't see his face, couldn't hear him speak and she couldn't give any better description than she already had.

In her dreams things were a little clearer, he had a voice for one and somewhere at the back of her mind she knew that she'd heard it before but his face was always obscured and, try as she might, she simply couldn't muster up any further details of the man. Not that it would help if she could, no investigator, or court for that matter, was going to put much stead in someone's dreams and, besides, how much of what she saw in her head was real and how much was simply her mind working overtime to put a face – any face – to someone she really wasn't sure she'd had the chance to see clearly anyway.

"Sara?"

Her name seemed to come from a distance and, with a shake of her head, she looked up to find Greg watching her with a mixture of worry and bemusement.

"You back with us now?"

"Of course I am." She shook her head as if to clear it. "It's not like I went anywhere."

"Maybe not physically." Greg nodded towards the photos. "But, you've been staring at those things for over fifteen minutes now." Both eyebrows rose in hope. "Any luck?"

"No, sorry; none at all." Sara pushed the photos back towards him, her brow furrowed. "Fifteen minutes? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he insisted. "In fact, Ben's had the time to fill me in on the rest of the Paw Patrol team while you were at it and we've got a date to catch an episode or two on my next day off." He stared at her again, his unease growing as he noted her obvious confusion. "Hey, you know, maybe I should stick around for a while," he glanced at his watch, "at least until Grissom gets back anyway."

"No, really there's no need." Unsettled herself, she decided to downplay the incident. "This kind of things has been happening the past couple of months; I checked it with Helen and it's perfectly natural in pregnant women." Seeing that he was still unsure, she laughed in the hope of erasing any lingering doubts. "At least this time it happened at home and not in the car; trust me, it's a little disconcerting to suddenly find yourself parked in the driveway without any memory of getting there."

"It sounds kind of dangerous actually." Frowning, Greg shrugged. "But, I guess we've all had something like that happen from time to time." He waggled a finger at her. "You've got to get more rest."

"I know, I know," pushing back her chair, Sara got to her feet. "I have a husband and a doctor that tell me that all the time." She gestured towards the photographs. "I'm sorry that I couldn't help you with those."

"That's okay, it was probably a long shot anyway." Swinging Ben onto the floor, Greg stood and, gathering the pictures together, returned them to their envelope. "Sure you don't want me to stay?"

"Positive," Sara told him with a glance at the abandoned laundry basket. "I think I'll leave the rest of that for later and put my feet up for a while anyway." Watching her son approach, she smiled. "We might find a movie to watch; how does that sound, Ben?"

The toddler nodded his agreement before looking up at her with a hopeful expression. "Cookie?"

"I think we can manage that," she ruffled his hair. "You go sit down and I'll get you one after I've said goodbye to Greg."

Walking her friend to the front of the house, Sara pulled the door open and stepped aside expecting him to exit only to have him pause at the threshold.

"You've told Grissom about this, right?" Greg turned to face her. "About the lapses, I mean."

"Not specifically, no but I'm sure he's noticed it," she chuckled. "There's only so many times you can find unexpected things in strange places and not think something weird is going on."

"Discuss it with him, Sara," he implored, "especially the car stuff; if it were my wife driving around town in a daze, I'd want to know about it."

"That only happened once, you know and I haven't even come close to zoning out behind the wheel since." Noting the slight narrowing of her colleague's eyes, she hurried to placate him. "But, if it'll make you happy, I'll fill him in on everything when he gets home." Turning her wrist, she checked the time on her watch. "Now, you better get going if you want to get any rest yourself; you know what traffic's like this time of day."

Moments later, she closed the door behind him and, turning her back to it, exhaled in relief; as much as she loved Greg she needed him gone so she could try and make sense of what had just happened, how it was that the two minutes she thought she'd spent looking at those photographs had somehow stretched into quarter of an hour. And exactly how it was she was going to broach the subject with Grissom; his recent illness had apparently been remedied by a change of medication but, undoubtedly, stress had played some sort of part in it and the last thing she wanted to do now was add to it.

Pushing herself off the door, Sara managed only a handful of steps towards the kitchen when a soft double-knock sounded from behind her and, assuming Greg had forgotten something, she turned back with a weary sigh. The only things he'd walked in with had been her jacket and those damned photos so she had no idea what it could have been but, plastering an amused smile on her face she twisted the handle and pulled the door wide.

"Okay, what did you forg-"

She woke with a start, eyes blinking in the bright sun that was flooding the room through the large windows beside her and, pulling herself upright, Sara struggled to recall exactly how it was she'd ended up asleep on the sofa at all. She remembered Greg's visit and vaguely remembered waving him off and walking back to the kitchen but, after that, nothing.

She examined her surroundings, noting with a growing disquiet that things weren't quite as they should be - the coffee table was much closer to the modular suite than usual, the large lined wicker basket that was used as a toy box was lying open on its side, its contents spilling out onto the area rug, the television was still tuned to one of the children's channels but not the one that had been on earlier and Ben was…

She looked around frantically, fear and nausea churning through her in equal parts as she realized he was not in the room. She called his name expecting to be answered by his familiar giggle but the house remained silent and, quickly getting to her feet, she made a beeline for the kitchen.

Annoyed for the first time at the additional weight she was carrying, she ran from room to room calling his name, the tone of her voice becoming more and more desperate until eventually, standing beside her Explorer in the otherwise empty garage, she finally admitted to herself what she'd known all along - Ben was no longer in the house.

Stepping out into the sunlight through the garage's rear access door, she squinted through the glare around the freshly landscaped garden and, moving quickly, searched the yard frantically for him but it wasn't until she'd crossed the yard to the pool fence that she saw the single small sneaker lying on its side at the very edge of the water.

She tried to scream but nothing came out and, desperate to reach her son, she rushed to the pool gate only to be halted by a pair of restraining hands that closed suddenly around her upper arms. She struggled against them but the more frantic she became, the tighter they held her.

"Let me go!" She spat the words out as she fought her hardest to pull away. "I have to get to him; I have to get to Ben!"

She yanked one arm free and blindly lashed out at her captor, an act that bought forth a sudden shocked oath before a hand closed quickly around her flailing wrist and a familiar voice finally broke through her panic-stricken mind.

"Sara, stop it! For god's sake, honey, Ben's safe, he's right here."

Her body relaxed instantly at the words and, eyes opening wide, she stared into her husband's worried face.

"He's here?" Raising her head from the cushion behind her, Sara quickly scanned the room desperately for the truth. "He's really okay?"

"Yes." Crouched by the side of the sofa, Grissom huffed out a single relieved laugh. "He's perfectly fine. That must have been one hell of a dream."

"Believe me," pushing herself up fully, Sara shook her head, "that was no dream." She looked around the room again. "Where is he?"

"Probably creating havoc in our bedroom." Smiling at the baffled look on his wife's face, Grissom hastened to explain. "He must have heard me drive in because he meet me at the door and told me to 'shush' because it was nap time but I could tell by the way your breathing was starting to ramp up what was really happening so I gave him the bags I was carrying and asked him to take them through to the bedroom for me; knowing that raiding shopping bags is one of his favorite pastimes, I figured that would keep him busy for a while."

Pushing back her sweat-slicked hair, Sara frowned. "If that's the suit you just got he's going to ruin it."

"No he's not, that's still in the car; he's got the shirt and tie in one bag and some new shoes in the other." He shrugged, "Apparently, my dusty old hiking boots aren't good enough for the big day." Reaching out, he took her hand. "So, you want to tell me what the dream was about?

"Not quite yet; right now, I just want to forget it." Sara shook her head. "It was just so real though. I thought I was over all of this." She exhaled heavily. "Greg came by earlier and asked me to look at some of the photos they've managed to collect of their suspect; I guess that's what set it off." She looked down at their joined hands and caught sight of his bleeding arm. "What happened?" She pulled him closer for a better look at the bloody furrows that ran diagonally across his forearm. "That looks fresh."

"Probably because it is." Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Grissom dabbed at the still seeping blood. "I'm just grateful you keep your nails fairly short."

Sara looked up in surprise. "I did that?"

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad I managed to block you; I'm pretty certain you were going for the eyes." He squeezed her hand. "I'll have a word with Greg and Catherine and make sure that they know if they're going to question you about anything to do with that case - officially or unofficially - then they're going to have to schedule it with me; I want to be there when they do it but, more importantly, I want to be there after they've gone."

She nodded her agreement as she glanced around the room, her gaze settling on the wicker box and the scattering of toys around it.

"I can't believe I fell asleep with Ben here though, we were about to watch a movie and I just lay down for a minute and-"

"Well, by the looks of things he kept himself busy with his toys and this place is so well toddler-proofed that there are times even I struggle to get into some the drawers so there's no real harm done. You were just tired, Sara, probably overtired, and I really should have dropped him off at daycare instead of expecting you to look after him after working all night."

"I'm his mother, that's my job." She countered.

"And you're fantastic at it but you're also busy at the lab and," he placed his hand gently on the mound of her stomach, "you're busy growing this one so that makes for one heck of a workload."

A shuffling noise sounded from out in the hallway and turning towards the doorway, they both watched as Ben appeared, his sneaker-clad feet shoved into his father's brand new shoes.

"Having fun?" Grissom queried with an amused chuckle.

"Mmmm." Head down, Ben stared intently at his borrowed footwear as he attempted to take a full step in them, an effort that caused him to quickly overbalance and sent him toppling forward, his fall only broken by his father's grasping hand.

"Whoa!" Settling his son on the edge of the nearest seat cushion, Grissom quickly extricated the toddler's feet from the shoes. "I think you've got some growing to do before you fit into those, kiddo." He pointed at Sara. "How about giving Mommy a hug; I think she could so with one right now."

Ben frowned at the words. "Mommy 'kay?"

"Mommy's more than okay." Holding her arms wide, Sara waited until the little boy scrambled his way into them before wrapping him in a tight hug "Especially now." She kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you, baby; that's something that'll never happen again."

"Okay, I'm going to go put these somewhere safe." Discarded shoes in hand, Grissom pushed himself to his feet. "And then I'm going to make us some lunch," He swooped in and pressed a quick kiss to his wife's forehead. "Having something to eat will probably make you feel a lot better."

"Mommy eat." Pushing backwards out of Sara's embrace, Ben rolled his way off the sofa and ran across to the toy box only to return moments later with a familiar package which he proudly held out towards his mother. "Here go."

"Thank you, baby." She stared in confusion at the offering of Macadamia shortbread biscuits.

"Aren't they from your secret stash?" Grissom looked from the pack to his wife and back again. "I thought you had them hidden away on the top shelf of the pantry."

"I did," Sara confirmed as she hoisted Ben and his 'gift' back onto her lap. "How did you get these cookies, sweetheart?"

Intent on feeding his mother, Ben fiddled with the box opening. "Man get."

"What man?" Grissom frowned.

Confused by the wary tone of his father's question, he looked from one parent to the other before pointed up towards the ceiling above them.

"Big man!"

A/N: Thanks for the beta, SylvieT :)