Sorry it's taken me so long to update. The Super Bowl was Sunday (go Giants!) and I injured my knee Monday night playing football. So I've been trying to get that back to normal and haven't had much time to write. Hope you guys like this one!

A sudden flash of light startled me out of my Stage One sleep. I squinted my tired eyes in the direction of the open door on the other side of the room. A familiar shadow filled the doorway, and I felt the disgust rise up from my chest. "You again," I spat, leaning my head against the metal pillar I was strapped to.

"Now, now, Detective," he said patronizingly. "Let's at least attempt to be civil."

"You call this civil?" I shot back, jerking my head toward my bound feet.

"Merely a tool, Detective. A means to an end."

"What end?"

I could see him slightly smile. "You'll find out eventually." He held up what looked like a camera. "For posterity's sake."

"When I get a hold of you, you won't have a snowflake's chance in hell of having any offspring to pass it down to."

He chuckled. "Feisty. Like your mother."

I ground my teeth together in rage. "What's my mother got to do with this?"

"Everything," he said simply as he leaned on the doorframe. "You really must relax, Detective Curtis. As long as your friends follow my directions to the last detail, you won't be harmed."

"Somehow that doesn't exactly provide much reassurance."

He cocked his head quizzically, much like Grissom does when he's staring down a crime scene. "Are you frightened, Detective Curtis?"

His question caught me off guard. I can still remember the training exercises at the LVPD Police Academy. Whatever you do, do not show fear. But the truth was, at that point, I was scared out of my mind. I wanted nothing more than to be back in my nice, hectic office surrounded by my colleagues and the occasional hooker. So I looked at the ground and whispered, "Yes."

"Smart girl. Truth is, I'm going to kill you before this is all over."

I felt the rage boil up within me, and for a moment I forgot my fear. "You sadistic son of a bitch," I hissed, struggling against my bonds once again.

"Guilty on both charges."

"You just wait until my friends get a hold of you."

"That, my dear, is something that I greatly look forward to."

With that he slammed the door, plunging me into utter darkness.

There are a few times in my life I can remember being scared to death. The first happened when I was six, on my first rollercoaster ride. My mom said I turned a strange shade of green on the first little hill. The second, my first day of high school, with acne all over my face and my breasts not fully developed. Gym class was miserable until my sophomore year. The third, when Officer Bell got shot, and I was positive I had been the one to do it.

But I had never been so scared as I was at that moment.

Grissom glanced up as I rapped softly on the doorframe of his office. "Come in, Cath," he said, peering at me over his glasses.

"The blood found at the scene was definitely not Sofia's," I reported as I sank into one of his chairs. "Wendy's running the DNA from the hair and the blood through CODIS now." I tossed the manila folder in my hand onto his desk.

He said nothing as he picked up the folder and flipped through it. He didn't seem to notice me watching him. His relationship with Sofia had never really been defined, at least publically. I knew he had been intrigued by her from the moment he met her. I knew he had convinced her to stay around.

Finally I couldn't take the silence any more. "Gil," I whispered.

He trained his blue eyes on me, his eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Are you okay?"

Grissom leaned back in his chair and removed his spectacles. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been through a lot in the past year... Warrick and..." I decided to leave Sara's name out of it. "And now Sofia..."

"Cath," Grissom's gentle whisper stopped my rambling, "I'm fine." He caught my gaze, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Sofia's gonna be fine."

A knock at his door startled me, and I turned to see Nick in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space. He had lost that haunted look, and his face was all business. But I could still see the worry in his eyes. "I ran the tire prints at the scene." He handed Grissom three sheets of paper. "They're fairly rare, only put on about one hundred fifty brands of cars."

I snorted. "Well that doesn't narrow it down much. Any word on the DNA at the scene?"

Nick shook his head. "Wendy's still running it down." He looked at Grissom. "Have you called her mother yet?"

Grissom shook his head. "I'd prefer not to call her until we've got something concrete. The last thing we need is Captain Curtis hovering over us."

The younger CSI sighed. "She's gonna want to know."

Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but the little blonde receptionist from the front desk pushed her way past Nick and handed him a manila envelope marked Urgent. "This came for you a couple of minutes ago," she said quietly. "I thought you'd want to see it right away." She pointed to the label on the front. In bold letters were the words: Regarding Detective Curtis.

Grissom caught my eye as he ripped it open. I reached up and slowly grasped Nick's hand, squeezing it ever so slightly. Grissom's eyes widened slightly in shock, then narrowed in anger. "Son of a…" he muttered as he handed me what looked like a photograph.

I reached over and took it from his hands, feeling Nick's breath on my hair as he looked over my shoulder.

A pretty young woman sat on a tan linoleum floor, her back leaning against a thin metal pillar. Her feet were bound in front of her, and her blond hair fell limply against her pale cheeks. Her locks covered her face, but I knew and Nick knew… it was Sofia. Someone had written a sentence across the picture that sent chills down my spine.

It's not her I want.

Was she some kind of sick mistake? I thought, horrified at the thought that maybe, just maybe, someone had put us through this living hell for nothing

Nick's soft inhalation and whispered curse brought me back. "What the hell?" Nick hissed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, Griss," Wendy's voice interrupted Grissom's reply as she entered his office and stood next to me. "I got the results on the DNA test. We got a hit off CODIS. The blood from the scene and the hair were from the same source, but check out who those little amino acids belong to." She handed me the computer printout.

"Raymond Jackson," I read aloud. "Creepy looking guy."

His eyes really freaked me out. They were so cold… like ice. It seemed like they were blazing with rage and malice. Someone said way back in the day that the eyes are the window to the soul. I'm not a particularly religious person, but in my line of work you find people that truly are evil, and there's just no other explanation for the things they do to other human beings. This guy's eyes led straight to his soul… and they were just evil.

I scanned the list of his crimes. "Breaking and entering in 1991, robbery two years later, aggravated assault in the robbery, aggravated sexual assault eight years ago for which he was just paroled…" A note next to that one made me stop. My jaw dropped to the floor.

"Cath?" Nick's concerned voice barely registered in the back of my mind.

"Check out who the arresting officer was on the aggravated sexual assault." I handed Grissom the printout.

Grissom's eyes widened. "I don't believe it." He looked up at me. "The arresting officer was Detective Janie Curtis."

Nick started forward and grabbed the printout from Grissom's hand. "Sofia's mother arrested her kidnapper?"

"Call me crazy, but I think now would be a great time to call her," I said, glancing back at Grissom.

He nodded as he picked up the phone. "I think you're right."