A/N Hi! Thanks for the reviews. I'm feeling a little doubtful about putting this chapter up - it's quite a drastic turn of events. Actually, I'm terrified of what some of you might think. But, I'm doing this anyway. Please don't freak out - I'm totally open to re-working.

C: 3

When Nick and Sara arrived back at the scene, they agreed to spread out and search the surrounding areas properly while Brass drove to the nearby house to find its inhabitant. Greg was still in the water, calling orders and suggestions to the divers retrieving the shards of jetty. He waved to Nick and Sara but ignored their jokes, clearly in no mood for laughing.

"Hey Nicky," Sara called, after a few minutes of searching. "There are boot prints here. They lead away into the trees."

"That's a pretty deep tread. Ballpark size, er, 11?"

"Hiking boots, maybe?"

I'll get the mikrosil so we can make an impression," Nick said, heading towards the Tahoe.

Turning her attention back to the prints, Sara snapped a few photos and decided to follow them. The boot prints lead away, into the darkness of the trees and Sara had to squint to see ahead of her, despite her flashlight. Soon, she could no longer hear the splashing of the divers and Greg's annoyed comments to them. It was silent in the trees around her, save the sound of crickets and an owl in the branches above. The wind whistled through the trees, blowing Sara's hair into her eyes. Suddenly, a cough rose in her throat. She doubled over, her voice echoing in the trees. When she straightened up, she shivered. It was creepy and she suddenly longed for Nick's company. She was about to turn and go back when she spotted a dilapidated wooden shed just ahead. It was small, only about 12ft. both ways. The door was open a crack and creaking in the wind.

Intrigued, Sara put down her kit and stepped up to the door. With a quick glance behind her, she nudged it open with her foot and shone her torch inside. The shed was empty except for a high shelf above a glassless window on the opposite wall, and a rickety-looking chair. Carefully, Sara stepped into the shed and scanned the floor for evidence, allowing the door to creak closed behind her. A small red stain on the wooden floor caught her eye and she bent down to take a closer look. A quick swab and a drop of phenolphthalein from her utility jacket told her what she already knew: blood.

Sara capped the swab and put it into her pocket. She moved the chair over to the shelf then carefully climbed onto it to have a look at what was on the shelf. Sara clicked on her torch and inspected its inhabitants: a rusty fishing tackle box, a balled-up old sleeping bag, a baseball bat and a coil of coarse rope. She reached out for the bat but stopped when she felt a light tickling sensation on her stomach.

"Nick," she said seriously, "I'm not ticklish."

"Oh yeah?" a rough, throaty voice growled. Sara froze, her skin prickling. That was definitely not Nick. The light sensation on her skin became harder, cold. 'Oh God,' Sara thought, ' a knife.'

Gulping, Sara slowly looked down. The man had long red hair, tied back into a ponytail and malevolent black eyes, red around the irises. His clothes were sensible: a white shirt and khakis, but were covered in sand and blood. Two dark rings circled his eyes. All in all, he looked like something out of a horror movie. He pressed the knife deeper and reached up to grab hold of her wrist. He squeezed hard and Sara grimaced at the pain.

"Slowly now. Get down," he commanded.

Carefully, Sara lowered her feet to the ground.

"That's it," the man said, keeping an iron grip on her.

Once firmly on the ground, Sara tested the waters. "Sir, this is a potential crime scene. You-"

He snorted and shook his head so she threw caution to the wind. Sara spun around and yanked her arm from his, moving her hand back in preparation for a defensive blow. But she'd underestimated his speed. Before Sara could put up an arm, the man swung at her head. The pain shattered her thoughts, disorienting her completely. She stumbled and her assailant seized his chance, pulling her to him and clamping his hand over her mouth. The knife was at her neck in a heartbeat. Sara froze and stopped struggling the second its cold metal touched her skin. The man stank like stale beer, sweat and blood and she felt her body beginning to tremble against him.

"Don't move!" He hissed.

Sara nodded, hoping to placate him. Her head was spinning with fear and pain and her quick breaths were erratic. The hand over her mouth smelt like rotten fish and she tried hard not to gag. Questions raced through her head: who the hell was this guy? What did he want with her? Was the blood on his shirt Melanie Porters? Deep down, Sara prayed that it wasn't – or else she would have to accept that she was at the mercy of a murderer!

"Hey, you're kinda cute," the man said huskily, causing a shiver of dread to run down Sara's spine.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Sara jumped, and the man tightened his grip on her.

"Sara? You in there?" It was Nick.

"Make one sound and I will carve you, you hear me!" the man whispered harshly into her ear.

Sara flinched, tried to pull away from his rotten breath and nodded furiously. But she knew she'd left her kit outside: Nick was sure to come inside looking for her.

To her horror, the door creaked open and Nick put his head inside.

"Sar-?"

"Move one muscle and I'll slice her!" the man shouted.

Nick froze, a look of absolute horror crossing his face as he took in the scene in front of him. He put up his hands. "Whoa man, calm down."

His eyes darted from the man, to the knife, to Sara. His heart ached. Her pale face was completely ashen and she was gasping for breath. Her hands gripped her assailant's arms uselessly and her wet eyes screamed the fear that Nick knew all too well – will I live through this? He hadn't seen Sara as scared and vulnerable as she now looked and it killed him. Silently, he cursed himself for leaving his gun in the Tahoe.

"Back up now," the man said, flexing his fingers on the knife's grip.

Nick stood rooted. "I'm sorry…but I can't do that," he said.

"Back up NOW!" the man shouted, pressing the knife harder against Sara's neck until she gasped and flinched. Nick didn't move. His eyes met the raging ones of Sara's captor instead.

"Please. I can't do that. Just let her go," Nick pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.

The man paused. "Any why do you care so much, huh? You wanna be a hero and go back to your Captain for a shiny medal?" he taunted Nick.

Nick sighed and shook his head. He decided to let it all loose.

"No, I'm not a cop. That girl you've got there? I love her. With every fibre of my being. If something were to happen to her, my world would end. Hell, I even want to marry her someday," he said, his eyes going to Sara's. The first emotion he read there was surprise, but behind that was something more, something that he hadn't seen in her eyes in a long time – hope, maybe?

The man snorted. "Sorry kids. Love means nothing to me anymore." He put his cheek up against Sara's, keeping his eyes glued to Nick. "And I'm not about to let a pretty opportunity pass me by again," he smiled malevolently.

Slowly, agonisingly, his hand left Sara's mouth and slowly slipped through her hair and caressed the side of her face. Nick watched in burning anguish as Sara squeezed her eyes closed and squirmed against his grip. His touch was slimy and suggestive, and she hated having him handling her so intimately. Her eyes met Nick's in desperation, begging him to do something, anything.

Fury rose in Nick and he took a step forward.

"Uh, uh, uh. You stay put," the man growled, making a sawing motion across the front of Sara's neck with the knife. Nick froze again, forced to watch in horror as Sara gasped frantically in the tyrant's arms.

Suddenly, there was a click from behind the man. He stopped dead, eyes growing wide as his whole body tensed. Nick frowned at the change and leaned sideways to see where the sound could have come from. His heart leapt happily when he saw Greg, standing at the window, shakily holding his gun through the window, against the man's back.

"Drop the knife," Greg said slowly, nodding to Nick to reassure him.

The man stood frozen, all of the menace and power gone from him. In his arms, Sara's eyes darted around the room, desperate to find out what had caused the change.

"Drop the knife!" Greg repeated more firmly.

With a dull clatter, the knife hit the ground. In the man's arms, Sara breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. Now let her go and put your hands up," Greg said, gaining more confidence.

Slowly, his fingers uncurled themselves from Sara and she stumbled forward into Nick. Brass burst into the shed from behind them, pointing his gun ahead, and went to handcuff the man who now stood scowling at the two CSIs.

"Mr Phipps, I presume? We missed you at your house," Brass said as he snapped on a pair of handcuffs and shoved him past Nick and Sara. Phipps paused, sticking his tongue out suggestively at Sara and running it along his lips.

"Hey! Move!" Brass shouted, shoving him from the shed.

Nick watched him go, carefully pushing Sara behind him protectively as he scowled at the man. He turned back to the trembling woman behind him.

"Sara," he sighed, embracing her. She remained still, slowly processing all that had just happened. When Nick broke the embrace and stepped back to look at her, she sighed.

"How are you Sar? Okay?"

She swallowed and nodded.

"Good." The same questions burned in their minds but both remained silent until a familiar face entered the shed.

"You okay Sara?" Greg asked.

Finally, to Nick's relief – and jealousy – Sara smiled. "Of course. And look at you – flashing that gun around like a real pro."

Greg shrugged, blushing, "I try."

Sara caught his hand and squeezed, looking him in the eye. "Thank you Greg."

He nodded sincerely, accepting her thanks.

"You're a real hero Greggo," Nick said, stepping up and slapping him on the back. "Nice work newbie."

After a moment's silence, Greg raised his eyes to Sara's. "So… who was that?"

Sara sighed. Nick read her face like an old story: it pained her to recall any of what had happened. He knew from his own near-death experiences that recall of any kind was never easy.

"I…uh… dunno," Sara said, "He just came out of nowhere."

"This is some night you're having, huh?" Greg joked sympathetically.

Sara nodded and smiled wryly. Nick suddenly recognised the set of her jaw, the way she hardened her eyes. In true Sara Sidle fashion, she was deciding to avoid the issue altogether, despite her trembling body and racing heartbeat. Sara pulled the swab from her pocket.

"I found blood on the floor in here. There's also a baseball bat and some rope on the shelf."

"Maybe we've found our murderous Romeo's base of operations?" Nick suggested.

Sara raised a questioning eyebrow and him and he shrugged.

"Secluded, half way between the only house – which must be his – and the dump site…"

"Well, I've wrapped up the jetty," Greg added proudly," Why not head back to the lab? We can process the blood DNA that Sara got in here and compare it to the vic's."

"Sounds good. Let's roll," Nick said, knowing how much Sara probably wanted to get away.

Sara nodded in agreement and took one final look at the shelf before following him out.

Greg stayed behind, crouching to put the forgotten knife into an evidence bag. He also wanted to give Sara and Nick a few moments alone. He'd only caught the tail end of Nick 's speech, but he suspected they'd want some privacy.

Outside, Nick caught Sara's hand.

"Sara?"

"Yeah Nick?"

"You sure you're okay?"

She nodded furiously, "Yeah. I'll be fine. Thanks – for not leaving me."

"You do know how much you mean to me, right Sar?" Nick asked.

Sara frowned doubtfully and he smiled.

"I meant every word of what I said, Sara. The cat's outta the bag now, there's no point trying to hide my feelings for you anymore." He paused, taking her hand in both of his and looking deep into her eyes. "I love you Sara."

Sara stood rooted, completely taken aback by his revelation. Slowly, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She blinked as more filled her eyes.

"Nick, I love you too," she said softly, a smile slowly creeping across her face. A grin erupted on Nick's face and joy sped through his entire body.

"Sara!" he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Happy, relieved laughter rose in his throat. "Oh Sara, don't cry. I love you so much, sweetie don't cry."

Sara relaxed happily into his warm embrace, letting go and allowing her tears to flow freely. "I'm sorry," Sara sniffed. Nick pulled back to look at her and smiled.

"What's wrong angel?"

Sara shrugged then laughed. "I can't believe it. I can't believe this is happening."

"Come here," Nick laughed, pulling her back into a tight embrace and laughing happily.

"I love you," Sara repeated in his ear, her joy evident in her voice.

"You're still shaking," Nick said softly, gripping her hand. At that second, a rasping cough claimed Sara's body and she shook violently in his arms."And you're still sick. I'm taking you back to the lab right away."

This time, Sara had no objections.

A/N (peeping out from behind chair) So, um... what did you think?