Just a quick chapter here, wanted it to be longer but ran of out time and I wanted to get it up tonight, so you can expect the next part within a few days.

Chapter Seven: Rash Actions

Grissom read the file over one more time, making sure that he was indeed reading the print correctly. He lifted his eyes just enough so that they glanced over the top of the form, his gaze settling on Conrad Ecklie.

Next to him, Sara sat, completely silent. Grissom knew that it was taking all her effort to keep calm; one simple look at her he knew that she was ready to blow. He himself was not happy with what Ecklie was presenting them. Still, he knew that for Sara's sake, as well as his own, he needed to keep calm, and try to find reasoning behind this…outrage.

"I'm not really understanding any of this," Grissom said skeptically, laying the form down on the desk.

"You're a man of science Grissom," Ecklie stated lightly, picking up the form in his own hands. "You collect the evidence, you analyze it. You follow where it leads. Now do that here."

Grissom was silent, his eyes never left Ecklie's gaze. The older man sighed, shaking his head. "I'm only doing what is best for the lab."

"You think that letting go one of our top criminalists is going to help us out?" Grissom phrased the question slowly.

"Sidle's record is impressive," Ecklie agreed, "But she is a danger to the lab as well."

"I am right here Conrad," Sara stated quietly, a silent fire burning behind her eyes. "Please address me as so. If you want to talk like I'm not here, then send me home."

Ecklie held his hands out, looking towards the ceiling. "That was wrong of me," he admitted, "I'll try to be better on my people skills."

Grissom held his hand out to Sara, silencing her next comment. The last thing he needed was for her to anger him any further. With any luck, he would be able to work her out of this mess.

"I'm not exactly following you. Sara carries one of the top records out of all the shifts."

"She also carries the highest number of incidents as well. This latest turn of events isn't helping to improve her image either."

Grissom's brow raised as he leaned back. "You're holding her accountable for something she had no control over? What happened at that house was an accident. The officers failed to clear the scene properly."

"I am aware of that," Ecklie nodded towards him. "I am also aware that this is the second 'accident' that has happened under Sara's charge within the last month. Not only that," he continued, breaking over Grissom's interruption. "Sara has demonstrated a growing practice of confronting suspects before we have accurate evidence to support it. She becomes emotionally involved with the victims, and that alone causes error. Error is something we cannot have."

"I'm asking you to reconsider," Grissom spoke up at the first chance. "Probation, suspension maybe. Look at your alternative options here before making a final decision."

"I already have," Ecklie stated. "As for the case, I'm having Catherine take the lead. Sanders' and Sidle's work has proven to be little more than efficient. The case was supposed to be closed two days ago. Both of you can go now, I have work to do."

Grissom followed Sara out the room, only after pausing, considering having a few words with Ecklie alone before realizing that the option wouldn't be the best. Throughout the entire meeting, Sara had been livid, only keeping herself at bay with worry over Greg. She was too sick to her stomach to yell and scream.

Now…now her head hung towards the floor, not even looking up as Grissom placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was touched by his concern, and maybe, just maybe if she had been in a different mood, she would have been ecstatic.

"I'll talk with him once he blows off some steam," Grissom told her quietly, his hand still on her shoulder.

Sara shook her head, pulling away just enough that his hand fell free. "Don't waste your breath," she responded. "Ecklie is…well, you know, Ecklie. I'll be fine, there are plenty of other jobs, and it's not as if I'm going to disappear or anything. I'll still stop by, see everyone."

Grissom nodded sadly, not wanting to believe what was happening anymore than she was. At least Sara was facing the reality of it all. "I'm still going to see what I can do, Ecklie's out of line, I don't care what anyone else says."

She smiled sweetly at him, shaking her head after a moment. "You don't have to, but thanks anyways. I guess I'm headed home…I'll stop by the hospital, check in on Greg. See if he needs anything…"

Grissom nodded, "You do that, I'll give you a call when I know anything."

For the life of him, Greg Sanders was never going to take another taxi in his life. First off, the fare was far to over priced. Secondly, the driver had been everything but polite, the older man cursing at his slow movements, threatening to push him out of the cab if he didn't hurry it along. One would think that someone would be a little more considerate to someone just out of the hospital.

Yet the world seemed to surprise him everyday with something called 'human intelligence.' He supposed he could add impatience to that list as well.

The hospital hadn't kept him the whole night. Only till about three, when they gave him the go-ahead. By that time, Catherine had already been called away to work. When that had happened it had been assumed that he would be there until the morning time, and Catherine had promised to give him a ride home then.

Instead of waiting five hours for her to show up, Greg had figured to take a taxi. It had taken several tries to successfully wave one down, on the account he could barely move without any pain.

The doctors had said he was lucky, only suffering from severely bruised ribs. To Greg, severely was not a good word. It was a bad word, but when they said it could have been worse, Greg decided to settle on the bad, instead of on the worse. How much worse could it have been?

"Spinal cord injuries, broken neck, busted limbs, internal bleeding, parallelization…

Greg wasn't sure how long the list went on, but he definitely settle on bruised ribs. Once paying the uncouth driver for his so called, generous deed, Greg worked his way up the stairs slowly, wishing for one brief moment, that his apartment complex had working elevators. The last time he had used the elevators he had ended up stuck for nearly seven hours. That was an adventure he rather not repeat.

Since then, they had gone under repair, still waiting for the actual repair to take place. Grimacing with each carefully placed step, Greg fished the keys from his pocket, pushing inside with a sigh. It was good to be home, and all he wanted to do now was sleep.

He glanced down at the bag he held in his hands, dropping it off on the counter as he went by. Greg knew that he probably should take one of the recommended pills, knowing that it would help with the pain, but he wasn't really up to it. What he wanted now, all he wanted now, was his bed, and an endless amount of hours devoted entirely to rest.

TBC…