Disclaimer: I don't own csi but I really wish I did :)

What Does It Take?

The Cold Of Fear

Sara finally got tired and slumped to the ground. She'd been pacing for a while now, ignoring every concern Greg voiced about her head.

This was bad. Maybe even worse than when she'd been kidnapped previously. They were stuck in this room, while the man was outside with not one, but two guns. He'd managed to lock them in here, and Sara had obsessively listened until his footsteps faded.

She sighed and leaned her head back against the dresser. Here eyes met Greg's and he just continued to look at her in a worried way. Some how, whether she fully understood it or not, it felt nice. Just to have someone she loved care about her. Even if it had lost them there chance of escape. Although, she wasn't sure they had had one originally.

Greg slid across the carpet to sit beside her. His slightly taller frame fit nicely against her, and for some reason she remembered all the times they had sat like this. There must have been hundreds. After hard cases, a few nights before she left CSI, on his couch after she'd come back, and pretty much every night she couldn't sleep.

"What the hell are we going to do?" She asked, exasperated and suddenly tired; a combination she hadn't thought possible until now.

"Relax, we'll be fine. You, the perfectionist, didn't notice my lack of phone?" He said quietly, and her heart sped up. No. She hadn't noticed. Wait, where was her phone?

She shook her head, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Where was her phone? She didn't have it with her... she thought she remembered leaving the house with it... what happened? It felt as though her chest was being compressed. It sounded cliche, but her phone was her lifeline. Grissom and her had an unspoken agreement that no matter what they were doing, where they were, or who they were with, they would always pick up. Suddenly, without being able to contact him, her husband, her emotional rock no less, her breath was becoming forced.

"You should have more faith in me. I wasn't just going to attack the guy without making sure we'd get out of here." He said, which brought her out of her deep thinking. What had he done?

Sara looked at him expectantly, and he answered her question. "I called 911 and wedged it in the couch. I doubt he'll find that. All they gotta do is check the number, realize it's a CSI,"

"And Brass'll be here in minutes." She finished for him, seeing exactly how smart that was. Not that she was surprised, she expected no less of Greg. He was a friggin genius.

"And the rest of the team." Greg said, smirking slightly. "Catherine's gonna have a fit."

Sara smiled at him, thinking about what there boss's reaction would be. His smile broke into a full grin and Sara wondered how they could possibly go from being terrified to being happy.

"But exactly how were going to get out of here..." She said, knowing she'd ruined the small joyous moment.

"That... I've got no idea." Greg sighed and finished.

She looked at him, knowing she could trust him with anything. She'd always thought the term sounded cliche and teenager-like, but he was definitely her best friend. He had been from the beginning and he would be till the end. There was no changing that.

XXX

Nick had texted Sara how many times now? 5? 10? Seriously, she needed to learn how to reply to her damn messages. Usually it as a silent message to shut up and go away but this time seemed different.

He had heard that the police had found the owner of the room, and brought her in for questioning. He'd gone down to the station, ready to interview her.

Once again he checked his phone, hoping he had a reply. Nothing. Not even from Greg, who he'd messaged and called, but got a busy signal.

Finally he looked up and saw an intimidated Jessica McLeod being led into an interrogation room. He stood up, eager to finish the case as quickly as possible.

But as he walked towards the room he was stopped by a quickly moving Jim Brass.

"No, your coming with me." The police chief said sternly, grabbing Nick by the arm and dragging him the other way.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, knowing the man only got lke this when he was really worried.

Who was it? What had happened? His stomach went cold. Please, don't let it be Sara and Greg. No, no, no.

"911 got a call, no voice, nothing. It was Greg's phone." Brass said roughly, going out the front door, both men jogging by now.

Nick's heart was pounding in his ears, the worry was unbearable. No. It wasn't worry, or fear. It was absolute terror. His practical sister and brother were in danger. They could be hurt, or even... He couldn't even think the word. This was his fault. He'd left them in the room and taken the cop with him. If they... If they were... it would be his fault!

They jumped in Brass's truck, put the siren on and sped off, far beyond the speed limit.

Nick was already dialling Catherine's number, wondering if he could find his voice long enough to tell her.

Like it? I think it sounds like what they would say :) Review! Seriously if you love it say so, if you hate it, go ahead and tell me! Every review helpss :)