Thank you as always for the reviews. I apologise if this chapter is a little strange, I've been reading Stephen King; he brings out my dark side to play :) Anyways, enjoy

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"I know I probably took you by surprise, I'm sorry. But running off like that was a stupid stunt to pull, you're still sick honey." Catherine said. Once inside they had moved to the living room area, the main part of the small apartment, Cath had sat on the couch while Sara had chosen the chair next to it. "Why'd you run?" she asked, trying to sound non-accusing.

"Why'd you kiss me?" Sara asked back, ignoring the question. Catherine blushed again and looked away.

"I don't know." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair for the millionth time that morning. 'What the hell', she thought, 'I can't expect her to be honest with me if I can't be honest with her.'

"You can do to me in one look what no man has ever done before. You take my breath away Sara." She admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable at letting her guard down. Cath had expected that Sara would either look scared, shocked or amused. But, to her surprise, all she saw in Sara's face was a strange darkness, like the kind that you see when you look at a thundercloud. Deep and brooding.

"You don't know me Cath." Sara said quietly. Cath started to contest that but Sara's voice, cold and harsh, cut her off. "No, you don't. I'm not good for you, I'm dangerous." There was something in the way she spoke, some dark truth that stopped Catherine from arguing. Sara slowly lifted her face, her gaze fixing firmly on the other woman's. Something in her eyes, some deep-seeded fear lurking just beneath the surface of the mysterious hazel swirls, seemed to be drawing Catherine in. And for the first time she realised something, something that she had never been able to see before. Sara was scared.

"Sara, I don't really know what any of this means, but I do know that I have never felt like this about anyone before." Cath explained, holding onto Sara's stare. Sara was quiet for a moment. There was something about the brunette's demeanour that was creeping Catherine out. On the surface she was calm, eerily calm, but inside Cath could tell that she was terrified. "Talk to me sweetheart." She begged gently.

"I can't." Sara whispered.

"Sara, you can tell me anything." Cath assured her. The younger woman didn't answer, didn't say anything. She almost seemed to be studying Cath to judge for herself whether or not to trust her. Just as Cath felt like she was going to suffocate in the silence, Sara spoke; slow and evenly.

"Tell me what you know about me." Catherine scrunched up her nose slightly in confusion. However, not sure what else to do, she obeyed; searching her memory for everything she could remember.

"I know you're from California. Tamales Bay. Your parents owned a B&B by the ocean. You got a scholarship to Harvard, worked your ass off at several jobs to pay for it. Went to Berkley. Started working at the San Francisco Coroners lab before you became a CSI. You came to Vegas when Grissom asked you to." Catherine listed. "I know you're passionate, and empathic, and stubborn." She continued with a small smile. "That you have at least two tattoos." Sara's eyes had never left hers, but try as she might Catherine could not read any emotion behind them anymore. Sara had put her walls back up. "I know that you drink too much and don't sleep enough. And that sometimes you have bad dreams." For the first time she saw a flash of light through the dark fog in Sara's eyes.

"I never dream." Sara insisted, that look of fear returning. Catherine just smiled softly.

"So all the whimpering and screaming is ...?" She asked, not in a judgemental voice, just proving her point.

"Do I talk?" Sara asked cautiously.

"Sometimes, though I can never work out what you say. Sometimes you cry." Sara didn't say anything; it seemed she was lost in her own thoughts. "And I know one other thing. I know you're scared of something and you won't tell me what." Cath finished.

When Sara eventually spoke her voice was spookily quiet. "Do you think there's a murder gene?" Catherine looked at her in shock.

"No, honey I don't think that." She answered softly, fear beginning to tug at her heart now. Sara chuckled, but it was dark, empty.

"You wouldn't know that in my house. The fights, the yelling, the trips to the hospital." The image of Sara scared and shaking outside the emergency room flashed into Catherine's mind and suddenly things started to make sense. "I thought it was the way everybody lived." Sara continued in the same distance voice. "When my mother killed my father, I found out that it wasn't." Finally the cold facade collapsed and Sara broke down, her breath coming out in choked sobs. Catherine moved to sit on the coffee table in front of her so she was close enough to wrap her into a tight embrace.

"Is this why you ran away from the hospital?" she asked, running a hand through Sara's silky locks. She felt Sara nod against her shoulder.

"We spent a lot of time there as kids. Broken bones, fractures, bruises. They never saw it. They just bought the lies; they never saw what was really going on. How many times does a child fall down the stairs before it stops looking like an accident?" She asked sadly. Catherine opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What could she say? Luckily she didn't have to say anything because Sara continued. "My mom tried to avoid taking us if she could. She would just give us whatever was lying around the house; painkillers, anti-depressants. Ecstasy." Catherine's breath hitched. No, surely no parent would ... all of a sudden she felt the ghost of something in her pocket, something that was actually still sitting on Sara's bedside table. Pills. No wonder Sara wouldn't take them. "My brother moved out the day he turned 16. He used to protect us when he could, without him we were lost. My father...he got worse." Sara stuttered through tears, which Catherine wiped away tenderly. "One day, mom came home early from work, she ...she snapped. She ... killed him." She was crying so hard now that she was finding it hard to breathe so Catherine placed a finger over her lips to silence her. Without letting go, she changed positions so she was now on the edge of the seat and Sara was pinned between her and the back of the chair, cradled against her chest. Cath took comfort in the feeling of warm tears soaking through her thin shirt. It meant Sara had let go.

"Why didn't you..." Cath began to ask when she felt Sara had calmed down, but Sara finished her sentence for her.

"Tell you?" She laughed that dry, cold laugh again that sent cold shivers down Catherine's spine. "Would you want to talk about it?" She asked rhetorically. Catherine rubbed her back slowly. "I used to talk with a stutter when I was a kid." She said out of the blue after a few moments silence. Catherine frowned slightly at the random comment.

"A stutter?" She asked, a small smile twitching at the thought.

"Mhmm. It used to be really bad, now it only ever comes back when I talk about ... th..that night. A..afterwards I was taken to a child shrink. They thought I was dumb because I couldn't talk about it at all." She explained. "It's hard enough to talk about s..something like that when you can't even say your own name." A lone tear rolled down her cheek and Catherine caught it with her fingertip. "I was in a few different foster homes and children's homes. Some places it was worse than others. I got bullied for it, at home and at school. Eventually I just ... stopped speaking. One day, in one of the homes, a kid got electrocuted. I called 911, and I just started talking, no stutter."

Catherine studied Sara closely for a moment. The tear treks down her cheeks reminded her of streams filtering through the woods. Her red eyes were a stark comparison to her ghost white skin. And yet, strange as it sounds, Sara had never looked more natural than she did now. There were no walls, no defensive boundaries, no mysteriousness. No secrets. This was Sara Sidle, laid bare. And Catherine could honest to God say that she had never before seen her so beautiful.

You don't know me.

I'm no good for you.

I'm dangerous.

The words played in her head like a rhythm. Carefully, Catherine tipped Sara's face upwards, holding it until blue eyes met hazel. "I'm not scared of you." Catherine said slowly. She watched as the words sank in, finally able to see things she never had been able to before. The way her eyes widen when she realises she's stuck. The way she bites on her bottom lip slightly when she's nervous. In fact, if you look closely you can practically see her mind working over what she has just said.

"You should be." Sara answered finally, her voice trembling. Catherine didn't answer, at least not with words. Without ever breaking eye contact, she leant in and slowly touched Sara's lips with her own. The kiss was feather-light at first, but slowly Cath began to apply more pressure, massaging the other girl's lips gently. Sara did not respond at first, and even tried to pull away, but it dawned on her that she was still trapped, and eventually she gave in and let her eyes drift shut. Sensing Sara's submission, butterflies sprang to life in Catherine's stomach. Boldly, she took Sara's lower lip between her teeth and gently sucked it, forcing Sara's lips open just enough for her to slide her tongue inside. Tentative probes turned into exploring strokes and they were soon locked in a fierce but tender clinch. They slowly pulled apart and rested their foreheads together, their breathing heavy.

"You're worth the risk."