A/N: Thanks again to all who reviewed! This chapter takes place two weeks after the last Friday at the club.

Scent triggered memory, and Warrick Brown found that out the hard way. Her scent was intoxicating; her scent meant that she was nearby, and her being nearby meant that he could just reach out and touch her… kiss her, hold her… love her. The faint hint of vanilla and cherry blossom made him think of laying tangled in the bed-sheets with her, it made him think of that one night; that one perfect night. How beautiful she was, how… wonderful her whole was; how he felt as though he were suffocating and the only thing keeping him from cheating death was her lips.

But every time he set eyes on her, it was rare that he didn't feel the need to ravish her right then and there.

He thought it a bit silly to have grown to need her so, but ever since that night he could not shake this feeling of needing, wanting. He loved this woman more than anything or anyone else in the world, and he would be goddamned if anyone ever took her away from him or did something to hurt her. He would shield her with his life; he would run in the way of bullets, jump in the path of knives, anything to ensure that she was safe.

Everything about her drove him to the brink of insanity. Her voice was heavenly; to him it was if an angel was singing the Hallelujah chorus. Her smile sent shivers down his spine that tickled his nerves like live wires, sending electricity throughout his body like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes were the pathway to her soul, the core of his desire and lust for her. He loved her nose, her lips, her everything.

And there was also something about her that made him feel like a virgin on prom night, something that made him feel weak at the knees. And for god's sake, he told himself, he wasn't a giddy schoolgirl who had just been asked to the dance, he was a grown man in his thirties, fully capable of handling these emotions. At least that was what he thought. The emotions and thoughts he was experiencing were overwhelming. He had never felt this way about anyone in his life before and it was a bit intimidating.

But for Sara, he was willing to take the risk.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he fixed his tie with a sigh, smoothing out a few strands of hair on his head with the palm of his hand. Straightening out his shirt sleeves, he decided that he was ready after a few minor touch-ups and a spray of cologne; the cologne she liked.

He nearly jumped when he saw her emerge from the doorway. She looked absolutely gorgeous; a long black dress (longer than the one she had found in her closet, Warrick made sure of that), hair fixed and kept together in a clip behind her head. He turned around and watched her head over to her dresser and grab something before she dashed back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

He watched her for a moment as she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to make sure that she was presentable. Oh, she was so much more than that, Warrick thought. She took the cap off of a tube of lipstick and applied a dark red color, keeping her eyes trained on the mirror to take sure she didn't mess up and end up looking like a tribal member who tried to conjure up evil spirits. She nearly jumped when she felt arms snake around her waist, stilling her from movement.

"Damn, Sara…" Warrick whispered, resting his head in the crook of her neck from behind her.

"Warrick," Sara said in a teasing tone.

"You look beautiful," Warrick whispered into her ear.

"Why thank you…" Sara smiled, "You look very handsome."

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me…?" Warrick mumbled, gently trailing tender, sweet kisses along her neck.

"Mmm… I have an idea," Sara mumbled, closing her eyes at the sensation of Warrick's warm mouth on her skin. "Can't you at least wait until after the performance…?"

"I don't know if I can…" Warrick whispered, gently nibbling just under her earlobe and then smoothing the skin over with his tongue. He still wanted to explore every part of her body, taste every part of her.

"Warrick…" Sara groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. "Later…" she whispered, "We're going to be late…"

"Then let's not go…" Warrick mumbled, slowly moving his hands down to her waist.

"As appetizing as you're making that sound…" Sara mumbled back as their lips stayed together, "We've already blown them off once…" she offered a small smile.

"Alright…" Warrick finally said, letting out a defeated sigh. "And then it's straight home," he told her, shooting her a grin.

Sara laughed. "Deal," she told him, walking out of the bathroom to grab her purse.

I love you, Sara, Warrick thought, and if anyone so much as looks at you a certain way I'll make sure that they never do it again… I love you, and I swear I'm going to protect you. And then Warrick remembered the piano player, well, Trey, as Sara said the man's name was. Warrick felt a small flame of anger growing bigger and bigger deep inside of him, like someone had started a bonfire in his soul and kept adding dry grass to the pile. Anger flashed in his eyes and he gritted his teeth so he wouldn't let out an explicative under his breath.

"Come on, Warrick!" Sara called from the kitchen.

Warrick frowned to himself, walking out from her bedroom and heading into the kitchen to meet back up with Sara.

"You ready?" Sara asked him, shooting him a smile. When he just nodded and automatically headed toward the front door, she could tell that something was wrong. He was no longer smiling and he looked very stern; his eyes flashed with an emotion she hadn't often seen on him. "Warrick… are you okay?"

"What?" Warrick blinked, looking over at Sara. "Oh… yeah, I'm cool," he told her, holding the door open for her. Shooting her a small smile, he said, "Just thinking. After you," he motioned outside.

"Okay…" Sara said, a small smile slowly returning to her face. "Thanks," she told him, walking through the door and watching as he closed the door behind her, taking the spare key she had made for him and locking it up.

"Ready?" Warrick smiled, holding his hand out to her.

"Ready," Sara smiled, taking his hand and letting him lead her toward the car.

Warrick knew that Sara was currently in a very good mood, and he didn't want to ruin the beautiful smile on her face with his thoughts about Trey, who, in Warrick's eyes, was a dead man if he even looked at Sara. He wasn't going to make her nervous because he knew she was already nervous enough about going back on stage in front of a bunch of people, even though he knew she was going to do just fine. So Warrick decided that he was going to be the one to do the worrying tonight. Sara had enough to worry about, and he didn't want to burden her by putting even more weight on her shoulders.

Warrick wondered for a moment why Sara didn't seem nervous about going back to the club after what had happened last time. Was it because she knew Warrick was there and wouldn't let anything happen to her, or if… she didn't care anymore.

That's ridiculous, Warrick thought.

Opening the passenger's-side door for her, he helped her get inside and then ran around to the driver's-side door. Part of him felt bad to even have to leave her unattended for the short period of time it took him to run around to his side of the car. This was ridiculous, he knew, but he wanted to protect Sara and nothing was going to get in the way of that. Working his job he had seen it all; murderers, rapists, muggers, you know name it and he had seen it. Warrick wasn't going to let Sara become a victim.

So if it made him seen like an over-protective presidential bodyguard, so be it.

Getting in and buckling himself in, Warrick turned the car on just in time to hear Sheryl Crow fill the speakers. He couldn't help but smile a little; he wasn't hearing Sheryl Crow's voice singing the song, he was hearing Sara's voice.

"You never took that out of your CD player?" Sara asked him with a smile.

"Oh, uh, no, I've been listening to it in the car so I don't forget how to play it," he told her with a smile. "And I didn't, so no worries," he winked.

Sara laughed. "I wasn't worried about that, I know you better than that," she told him.

Sara had this healing effect on Warrick, and he didn't know why it happened, but whenever she laughed he forgot all that ailed him and filled him with grief or other unpleasant feelings. Warrick regretted it sometimes and told her so, but always in a joking manner (one time she had laughed about a joke of Nick's in the break room and Warrick had forgotten to change out of his smelly CSI scrubs that reeked of decomposing flesh and bodily fluids). How could he be this serious in front of Sara? You just couldn't, Warrick thought. No one could.

Don't worry about it, Warrick told himself, nothing's going to happen. You're thinking too much into things. You'll both be just fine. Protect her, no matter what…but don't ruin this night for her. "We're here," Warrick announced with a smile as they arrived at the Midnight.

"Looks busy tonight," Sara observed, looking at all of the cars parked along the sidewalk.

"Yup," Warrick agreed, "Big crowd tonight," he smiled. "And I know you'll do just fine, because have the voice of an angel."

"Warrick, quit it…" Sara told him, feeling her cheeks flush red.

Warrick just laughed, patting her shoulder. "Come on, let's go inside and show these people how it's done, shall we?"

"Absolutely," Sara smiled.

Once they were both inside the furnace (this was what Warrick used to describe the place as it was always filled with cigarette smoke), Warrick and Sara both headed to the back of the building to get ready for their performance. As Sara was about to kneel down to set up all of the equipment, Warrick scooped her up into his arms by her waist, practically lifting her up over his head.

"Warrick!" Sara laughed, saying his name the same way for about the third time now that night. She felt his hands creeping up her sides and she giggled. "Damn it, why did I tell you where I was ticklish?" she playfully teased.

"You didn't have to tell me," Warrick smiled, pressing his lips against her neck. "I already knew, girl. I've got magic hands."

"Warrick, stop!" Sara laughed, kicking her feet back and forth. "You're tickling me! Someone's going to hear!"

"Then let them hear…" Warrick smiled. As Sara continued to kick in his arms, he accidentally bit down on her neck, not even realizing it being in the middle of having so much fun.

"Ow!" Sara said, slowly raising a hand up to brush against her neck. "Are you a vampire now?" she asked with a laugh.

"Sorry!" Warrick apologized. "Didn't realize I did that," he smiled, kissing the section on her neck that was now a small red patch of skin.

Sara just laughed as he set her down. "Sure you didn't," she smiled, stepping up onto the stage and purposely swaying her hips back and forth for him. Knowing that he was watching her, she turned around and laughed as she noticed him staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "Don't get any ideas yet, Mr. Brown," Sara smiled, propping herself up on the big black piano in the middle of the stage.

"It's a little late for that," Warrick grinned, taking his place at the piano bench. Cracking his knuckles, he looked up at her, "So Ms. Sidle… shall we get to this? So that I can take you home?" he asked.

Sara shot him a look before a smile broke out onto her face and she just nodded, turning herself back around to face the audience as the curtains parted.

"Well I'll be damned," the bartender mumbled under his breath as he watched from behind the bar counter. "Kid's back up on stage. Well, good for you, honey."

"Mike," came Trey's voice. Walking over to the bar, he said, "Have you seen Sara yet?"

"Yeah, she's up on stage," Mike blinked, pointing up on stage. "I thought that was you playing the piano. Did things not work out between you two?" he asked, shooting him a taunting grin.

Trey's face quickly drained of color and he became deathly pale as he turned around to look up on stage. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he balled his hands into fists. "That bitch…" he muttered.

"Trey?" Mike asked. "Sorry to say this, but you're kind of in the way. There's a lot of customers here," he explained, motioning toward three men who were clawing their way to try and get in Trey's spot.

Without so much as a nod of the head Trey stormed off, feeling fumes of anger blow from his ears like steam escaping a train whistle. Almost knocking someone as he headed around the building toward the back, he listened to Sara and Warrick up on stage, shaking his head. He could do so much better. How dare she pick someone else to perform with. He had created her; he had given her the job, and she kicked him to the curb for someone else?

Walking around and passing his office door, Trey watched from the side, keeping himself hidden in the shadows which proved to be a hard task.

How dare her.

How dare her!

Up on stage, Sara and Warrick were too lost in the moment to notice Mount Trey erupting just to the right of them and the stage. Warrick tried to stay focused on the piano but it was a bit difficult with Sara lying sprawled-out across the piano in front of him. Feeling sweat dripping from his brow, he looked up at Sara and shot her a look as his fingers continued to automatically seek out and strike the correct keys. Sara only smiled innocently at him as a response to his 'this isn't fair' glare.

When the performance was finally over, which seemed to be an excruciatingly long time for poor Warrick, he tried to get off stage as quickly as he could in his haste to get Sara home. He remembered her telling him that she was going to get him back. Well, you got your revenge, Sara, Warrick thought to himself. Boy did you…

As soon as the audience's clapping seemed to die down because they were getting tired of slamming their hands together and feeling their skin begin to chafe because of it, Warrick and Sara headed off stage. "I have to go do something," Warrick told Sara. "Can you stay here for just a minute?"

"Sure," Sara told him, nodding. "Go ahead. I'm just going to be unhooking the equipment."

"Alright, I'll see you in a minute," Warrick told her, jogging off. Sara couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey Sara," came Trey's voice in a mere whisper.

Sara jumped, looking around for the source of the voice, and felt her heart sink deep into her gut when she saw Trey come out from his office, leaving the door cracked open. "…Hi," Sara barely managed to get out.

"Congratulations on the successful performance tonight," Trey told her, shooting her a fake smile. His eye was twitching in anger; he was furious.

"Uh… thanks," Sara said, kneeling down and quickly unhooking the microphones. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as she could. God, she needed Warrick, where was he…? She was scared, and she was cold. His voice was making her shudder and the look on his face that he was giving her could break a mirror.

"Why don't you come in my office and celebrate?" Trey offered, taking one step toward her. Actually, it wasn't just a step. It was a giant step that quickly closed the space between the two of them and brought him dangerously and uncomfortably close to her.

"That's nice, but…" Sara swallowed, seeing his face quickly drop and his fake smile disappear. She tried to calm herself down even though it seemed a bit impossible at the moment, and told herself to choose her words carefully, "I need to get home. I have work tomorrow, and—"

"Nonsense!" Trey told her, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet. Sara winced as she felt his fingers hold onto her arm tightly, as if his muscles themselves were telling her that they weren't going to let her escape. "You can come in for a drink," he told her matter-of-factly and ushered her toward his office.

"I-I really can't!" Sara said, almost urgently now, trying to use her other arm to keep him from pushing her into his office.

"One drink," Trey whispered, abruptly shoving her inside and closing the door behind him. Sara almost tumbled to the floor and he silently clicked the lock from behind his back as he walked around his desk, taking a seat in his red-velvety chair. "Have a seat," he told her, motioning to the two chairs across from him.

Sara reluctantly obeyed, taking a seat in one of the chairs as he opened up one of the drawers of his desk and removed a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "I was going to have this with you last Friday. No, the Friday before last, you blew me off last week," he amended, as if to add insult to injury. "But you left."

"I'm sorry I didn't show up last week, I wasn't feeling well," Sara cautiously said.

"Well a call wouldn't have hurt, would it?" Trey asked, pouring both glasses, the anger evident in his voice. Sloppily pouring the first glass, he ignored the liquid dripping down the sides of the glass as he shoved it toward her. "But all is forgiven now. Let's just have a drink, shall we?" he asked, raising his own dripping glass.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to go," Sara said, quickly getting to her feet and turning toward the door. It seemed like he teleported and suddenly he was in front of her, pushing her back down into the chair by her shoulders.

"Who was up on stage with you tonight?" he asked her, sitting down across from her, his hand resting on her knee. "It wasn't me, because… well, obviously, I didn't come into the club until later."

"He's a friend," Sara said, slowly inching away from his hand for fear that it would start wandering, touching her places only Warrick could touch. "In fact, I wanted to tell you," she said, swallowing her fear and trying to act confident. "He's my new partner," she said bit harshly.

Trey's eyes immediately narrowed and he lunged forward like a tiger at its prey, grabbing a hold of her upper forearm. "What?" he hissed, his nails digging into her arm. "I am your partner."

Sara winced, trying her hardest not to, but failing miserably.

"Tell me why this man is better than me, huh?" he asked her. "Why is that? I gave you this job, you bitch," he whispered.

And at this moment Sara knew she was in trouble. The word 'bitch' obviously had not been accidentally squeezed out of his mouth, he meant it.

"Can you please hurry?" Warrick asked, back at the bar. Drumming his fingers on the counter impatiently, he sighed as he looked down at the bartender who was on his knees looking for what he requested. "Sir… I need to get home," he said.

"I understand, Sir," Mike told him. "But this is going to take just a minute."

Warrick just sighed. I just wanted a bottle of wine to surprise Sara.

"Tell me why!" Trey demanded of Sara, reminding her that they were still in his office and that she wasn't out of the woods yet.

"You… you were scaring me," Sara whispered, looking up at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. Damn it, she thought. Why did she say that? That wasn't going to make him any less angry, she knew, but it was the truth.

"What…?" Trey asked, grabbing onto her other arm with his free hand. "I was scaring you? What am I, the Boogeyman?" he practically screamed, shaking her back and forth.

"You were touching me!" Sara screamed back, never taking her eyes off of him for fear of what he would do. Why wasn't Warrick coming? Couldn't he hear her screaming? Obviously Sara had forgotten once again where they were.

"So?" Trey asked, not fazed the slightest. "You liked it, I know you did. I could see it in your eyes, you wanted me to touch you," he whispered, slowly raising his hand up to caress her cheek.

"Don't touch me!" Sara hissed, slapping his hand away. "I did not want you to touch me! Only Warrick can touch me!"

At that moment Sara Sidle knew that her fate was sealed.

"Warrick?" Trey incredulously asked. "Warrick?"

Sara stood up, slowly inching toward the door but keeping her eyes on Trey.

"Who the hell is that!" he screamed, jumping to his feet the moment he noticed her trying to get away. When she tried to slap him again he grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him so that he was up in her face. "Who is he!" he repeated.

"Let go of me!" Sara screamed, trying to rip her arm away from him, but only succeeding in tightening his grip even more.

"You bitch," Trey hissed, "I'm—" And then something caught his attention. Normally Sara would've taken that opportunity to bolt for the door, but she wasn't able to because Trey was still holding onto her. What had caught his attention was something on her. "What is this…?" he whispered, grabbing a hold of her neck and brushing her hair out of the way. Noticing the now-pink patch of skin and the tiny imprints Warrick's teeth had left on her skin, he growled angrily. "What the HELL is this!"

Sara looked up at him helplessly, not doing anything for fear of what her actions would cause him to do.

"Huh? You're not gonna answer me then, huh, is that it?" Trey whispered. "I know what this is, you fucking bitch!" he screamed, slapping her across the face without further warning.

Sara knew it was only a matter of moments before he was going to hit her, but when the back of his hand finally connected with her skin it was shocking. Her cheek felt like it was on fire, god it hurt!

"So did you too already get busy?" Trey asked. "Huh? Did he leave you a little love-bite? A souvenir?"

"At least he didn't try to rape me!" Sara screamed.

Trey froze. "What…? You thought I was going to rape you?" he asked. Sara just stared at him, slowly inching toward a corner of the room in some feign hope that it was the safest. "You thought I was going to do that? Huh? Is that what you want?" he screamed, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her against the wall. "HUH?"

"No, no that's not what I want," Sara whispered, now shaking with terror. I want WARRICK!

"Is that what you WANT?" Trey asked again, yanking her around and shoving her to the floor. As soon as her back made contact with the floor he jumped on top of her, growling as she tried to throw him off of her. "I'm just giving it to you like you want, so stop fighting me!" he yelled, putting both hands on her shoulders and shoving her back down on the ground.

"Don't," Sara whispered, "Please, don't!" Looking around the room, she noticed that he had turned the lock.

Oh god.

She was trapped.

"WARRICK!" Sara screamed as loud as she could as she heard a piece of material from her dress rip.

"Would you like a drink while you wait?" Mike asked Warrick. "On the house for making you wait so long."

"No thanks," Warrick sighed.

But then something caught his attention.

"…Did you hear something?"