Summary Natalie Davis created miniatures, committed murders and ultimately abducted Sara. The question is why? Rated M for adult content, this story will get dark following Natalie's journey. Spoilers for Season 7 are included so please, you have been warned about the spoilers and darkness.

Author's Note This is my first attempt at a fan fic, so please read and review as suggestions and comments would be greatly appreciated. I have tried to keep as honest to the CSI timeline as possible, however, since it is a little fuzzy, so am I. As you read, you will question Ernie's relationship with Natalie. Is Natalie seeing things that aren't there?

This is written with Natalie's perspective in mind. I am writing this because I am trying to fill in what we have not seen from Natalie. In this chapter, Izzy gets whacked and Grissom finds the first miniature.

Disclaimer I did not create nor do I own neither the characters nor anything to do with CSI. I am merely a fan. That is it.

Chapter 4

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The day had finally arrived; after today, Natalie was never going to have to think about Izzy Delancy again. She decided weeks ago that she had to make him pay for the torture that he was putting her through on a daily basis. As there were many people that adored and loved Izzy Delancy, there were just as many that despised and hated him. He was rude, crude and held a cruel malicious streak that was undeniable. Natalie had not exactly discussed the final part of her plan with Ernie. Sure, they had discussed all of their options on how to inflict pain on and how to kill Izzy, but that was all in terms of research for their model. If Ernie knew of Natalie's true plan, he would have only tried to talk her out of it, and she couldn't have that. So, today was going to be the day that she finished the model and finished Izzy.

Every morning, Natalie would arrive to work; Monday, Wednesday and Friday, at exactly 5 am to start her job for the Delancy family. She would use her key and come in the front door and then she would immediately start working in the living room, systematically cleaning the downstairs of the house, one room at a time. She had the "downstairs duty" and Annie - the nanny, had "upstairs duty" and would clean the rooms upstairs at her leisure. It was an odd setup, but Izzy Delancy was rather odd. Normally, by the time Natalie had reached the kitchen to clean, which was the last room before she left, Izzy and Annie would be there, purposefully in her way. Izzy would be fondling Annie a bit and chasing her around the kitchen while making crude lascivious remarks to Natalie. And he would laugh at her as if her terror, especially where bleach was concerned, were the funniest thing he had every seen. He would then go sit at the dining room table, reading his newspaper, that he set off to the left of his placemat, while waiting for his breakfast. After he finished his breakfast, he would go upstairs for his after breakfast fling with Annie, while Natalie finished cleaning his mess. It was a daily routine that never wavered.

After "Annie the Nanny," as Izzy liked calling her, prepared and served him his breakfast of two sunny side up eggs and three pieces of bacon, she would go up stairs to "check on" his baby. She would generally be gone at least an hour, if not more. She didn't think anyone knew that she was actually using this time to go rummaging through Izzy's chicken heads and other disgusting artifacts from his perverted rock star past. But Natalie knew. Natalie also knew that Annie was uploading the pictures that she took to a paparazzi website to sell. One day, Natalie even showed her how to download the pictures from her camera and then upload them and format them for the Web. It was actually an ingenious plan for someone like Annie if you thought about it, each morning as Izzy was eating his breakfast; she would take pictures of his home life and send them out to the highest bidder. The fact that this girl was getting one over on Izzy made Natalie smile. Natalie enjoyed the small anonymous acts of revenge that could be taken out on someone. Once again, Natalie had a knack for flying under the radar, and in this case, it worked to her advantage. If no one paid attention to her, then her task would be all the more simple.

The final line that Izzy crossed was by calling Natalie on her cell phone to mock her about using bleach. Or more accurately, not using bleach. It wasn't bad enough that she had to clean his disgusting sweats, but he insisted that she use bleach, as if that would wash away any of his sins. On that call, he laughed at her. Natalie could even hear the Nanny laughing at her in the background of Izzy's call. She couldn't escape his ridicule; her home was no longer a sanctuary, a quiet lull in the storm that was her thoughts was now gone. He had sealed his own fate in Natalie's eyes with that last phone call. Whatever happened next was his fault. Not hers.

The next day, she went into work, like nothing had changed, except of course the fact that it was her day off. Natalie went directly to the kitchen and before anyone in the family was awake, she placed her bag and a cardboard box under the kitchen sink. If anyone had seen her, they wouldn't know if she were working or not anyway, so at least if something happened, she had an alibi. Natalie then slowly opened the drawer directly left of the sink and reached in for the marble rolling pin. She calmly pulled it out, tilting her head, marveling in the smooth cool texture of the marble. She gave the rolling pin a little spin and smiled as she heard the slight whirling sound as the pin spun around on its casters. She then went to wait. Natalie waited in the utility room off of the kitchen, a room that she had never seen anyone else enter the entire time she had worked for Izzy. Again, it was a perfect spot for a perfect plan.

At precisely 8:15 am, Natalie heard Annie finishing Izzy's breakfast and then making her way upstairs. Natalie then came out of her hiding place, hugging the walls of the room, trying to be sure to stay out of Izzy's line of sight.

Natalie watched Izzy began eating his breakfast, had had eaten one piece of bacon. She then leisurely, coolly, walked behind Izzy, with the rolling pin at her side. Izzy continued to eat his breakfast, completely oblivious to the fact that Natalie was in the room, let alone the fact that she was walking in his direction. Izzy was never very observant to begin with and once food was in front of him, nothing else mattered. Then, with the confidence that he was not paying any sort of attention to her, Natalie walked up directly behind him and without any hesitation, she raised the rolling pin and hit him squarely, with all of her force, in the back of his head. She let every ounce of rage in her fly out in that one smooth motion. The sound was sharp, but softer than she would have thought as the marble rolling pin struck Izzy's skull. She heard the rolling pin spin again with a slight whirl. Natalie then heard the heavy, thick sound of his head hitting the table. His head bounced a bit as it hit the wood table, which made a smile creep out on to Natalie's lips.

With the big task complete, she then walked over to the sink and washed the blood off of the rolling pin and put it away in the drawer, making sure that it was in the middle, not too far back and not too far forward. Next, Natalie opened the cabinet underneath the sink, all the time humming sweetly to herself. As she squatted down, she pulled her box that she had placed there earlier. It contained the miniature scene that she had finished with Ernie the night before. It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. All she had to do was finish the blood pattern on the miniature model; it had to match what was forming around Izzy's head and what was pooling on the floor. Natalie pulled out and put on her heavy duty cleaning rubber gloves to remove the model and put it on the counter. Natalie marveled at what she had created. She looked down at the miniature scene and then up at the "real" scene. She allowed herself a few seconds to relish in her victory of her perfection. Taking a syringe out of her pocket she siphoned some of Izzy's blood from the pool forming slowly at his head. Then, carefully, with her other hand under the syringe, just in case any blood were to drop off of it, she took it to the miniature and placed drops on the tiny head of Izzy matching it perfectly to the full size scene. She then continued and completed the scene with Izzy's blood forming at the miniature's head on the table and then at his feet. She then took a baggie out of the drawer and placed the syringe in it and put it in her pocket as she was packing up to leave. Natalie was amazed at how it was so easy it all was. It was so simple. She felt such a light, free feeling coming over her, just like …

Natalie started to feel her rage boil in her again, thinking about her. Even though she had created this perfect thing, even though this was Natalie's crowning achievement, even though she had been dead for years, Natalie was still thinking about her. It was always about her. Natalie grimaced at that thought as she started to pack up her things to leave. It would be at least 41 more minutes before anyone would find Izzy, and that was more than enough time for her to disappear.

As Natalie started to walk out the front door, she thought about Izzy and the fact that it was his own fault after all. Not hers. He got what he deserved. He just wouldn't stop.

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In all of his years and experience as a crime scene investigator, Gil Grissom had never seen anything like it before. He had arrived to the crime scene at rock star Izzy Delancy's house only to find an exact replica of the scene in horrifying detail sitting on the counter. He took hundreds of photos at the scene. He was comparing and contrasting every angle of the actual scene to the miniature scene. Everything was precisely the same. It was frighteningly perfect.

After hours at the crime scene, Grissom brought the miniature back to the lab to go through it piece by tiny piece, searching for some clue as to the creator. While he would never openly admit this to anyone, the man that created this miniature scene scared the hell out of him. If a man is capable of this sort of premeditated detail, the patience to create such a thing, God knows what else they would be capable of.

He had just pulled a double, actually close to a triple, examining the evidence and he was to the point that he could barely focus anymore. Sara had left hours ago, and he was ready to go home to her. By the time Grissom got to the townhouse, he was absolutely exhausted, more than he even thought he could be. He was lucky he didn't fall asleep at the wheel. Even worse, he could feel a migraine starting to form and the first thing he wanted to do was to take his rizatriptan and flop on the couch. Grissom knew that once his headache started to form, he would see the lightening bolts shooting in his field of vision and everything would blur. If he didn't take his medicine in time, just the sound of his own breathing would be ear shattering, so he shuffled into the kitchen, took his pills and a bottle of water and headed over to the couch.

As much as he wanted to be with Sara right now, he just didn't have the strength to make it to the bedroom. Grissom decided that he would tough it out on the couch for a while and then make it to bed once he had some of his strength back and his medicine would kick in. He hated anyone, even Sara seeing him weak, seeing a crack in his exterior. So it was just as well that he was out on the couch. He also didn't want to bother her, she was working just as hard as he was and she needed her rest as well. If the first miniature scene was any indication as to what was going to come, they were all going to need as much rest as they could get.

Meanwhile, Sara, unable to sleep, rolled over and noticed that she was still alone in bed. Grissom should have been home long ago and she was starting to get worried. Not the type of worry that sinks into the pit of your stomach, but more that she knew he was wrapped up in the new case involving a miniature crime scene killer and he would probably be in the lab until he fell over. But still, she worried about him, someone had to.

Sara got up and went into the living room and noticed Grissom half asleep on the couch. He was squirming around, trying to get comfortable, and from the looks of it, he was not having much success. He had his pills on the coffee table, so she knew that he was in bad shape and needed to get to bed so he could rest properly. Sara walked over to where he was on the couch and sat on the edge of the coffee table, just watching him. She had seen him like this only a handful of times since they had been together, and it disturbed her each time. Grissom was usually a strong and confident man. When he was like this, he seemed smaller and it was a little tough to witness the change. It wasn't difficult because of him showing a weak side to her, it was just painful to watch what he did to himself. He hated for anyone to see him at less than full Grissom, and he just didn't seem to understand that she didn't care. And as much as Sara hated to admit it, she did enjoy a small part of his misery, obviously not the fact that he was in pain, but because it allowed her to be in control. It allowed her the rare opportunity to take care of him.

"Gris, why don't you come to bed?" she asked, her voice full of concern. She looked at him and with her eyes she was telling him that he better do what she asked. He didn't really have any choice. He learned long ago that sometimes it is better to submit, some fights he wasn't meant to win, and some fights he wasn't sure if he wanted to win. She slowly, relaxingly rubbed her fingertips up his arm as she spoke to him, trying to convince him to come with her.

It was a soothing gesture and he almost didn't want to open his eyes because he didn't want her to stop. He loved her touch. He lived for it. Her touch could revive him in ways that he had only read about. 'Hmmm…" Grissom mumbled, trying to hide the smirk that was forming on his lips.

"C'mon tough guy, let's get you to bed. And if you are a good boy, I can make you eggs for breakfast…I will even sprinkle the red ants on them if you want" Sara said with a chuckle as she offered her hand to him.

Grissom slowly got up, leaning into the strength that was being offered to him by Sara. He was trying to steady himself, a little fogged from the medicine. Whenever he took his medicine, it created a thickness in his head that made him feel two steps behind. Sort of like walking down the hall and having to wait for the rest of your body to catch up. Times like this he was happy to have someone take care of him. Someone he could trust. As he straightened up he pulled Sara close to him, startling her a bit and throwing her slightly off balance. She was afraid he was going to fall back so she tightened her grip on him as well, pulling him towards her crashing their bodies together. All of a sudden, Grissom was no longer concerned about his headache and he was trying to maintain his balance for a completely different reason. As he looked into Sara's eyes, he closed the remaining distance between them and gave Sara a slow, sweet kiss at first. He moved his right had up from Sara's waist slowly up her back rubbing it slowly, in perfect rhythm with his kisses that were now sliding down her neck. Sara pulled away when the need for air became insistent, giving her a moment to clear her head. As should rather nothing more in the world than to stand here and kiss this man all day, she knew that he needed his rest and she was supposed to be taken care of him in his weakened state, not taking advantage of it.

'Gris," she slowly said, her eyes trying to focus on something other than his lips and how they would feel on her again. She tried to concentrate on anything other than the fact that this man could completely melt her heart and all of her defenses with five little words.

"You are all I need," he said with a smile, adoring the fact that she cared about him so much.

"No, really…" she said as she pulled her head back, away from his insistent lips. "Let's just get you to bed," as she grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway to their bedroom.

Sara led him over to their bed where she pulled the covers back for him to lie down. He took off his shirt and trousers, tossing them aside and crawled into bed with just his boxers and undershirt. Sara came back from the bathroom with a cool cloth for his head, hoping that might help him. She crawled into bed next to him, and gently placed the cool cloth on his head. He never had the heart to tell her that the cool cloth didn't really make a difference one way or another with his headache. The smile and warmth that he earned the first time he thanked her for her considerate gesture, was worth a little sogginess. If anything, it was her gesture that was more important, that she cared enough to try and make him feel better. He sighed heavily, as he was comfortable and nearing the edge of sleep. Sara removed the cloth from his head and began gently massaging his temples in small circles, while lying across him.

"Gris?" Sara asked, unsure if he were asleep, as she snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think that there are more miniatures out there?" Sara asked as she moved closer to him.

"I don't know" Grissom sighed, as he pulled her tightly to him "I just don't know."

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Thanks for reading! If you like what you have read, please review I would appreciate hearing your comments. I could use some warm fuzzies.